#billy butcher x male reader

[marrziy]

The Boys x Male Reader

.•✪ Resumo: os personagens de "The Boys" usufruindo do seu peculiar e prazeroso superpoder. ⋆͙̈

Leitor!bottom

Você se considera um super-inútil, mas não odeia completamente estar em tal posição. De qualquer forma, você não se vê salvando o mundo e, mesmo que ser uma pessoa comum fosse o ideal para você, ser o melhor parceiro sexual de qualquer um lhe garante muito mais do que você conseguiria em um emprego comum numa vida comum.

O seu corpo não chega a ser indestrutível, mas é resistente. Afinal, é preciso ser forte para aguentar tanto pau e porra. Você não sabe como funciona, apenas aceitou que a sua bunda vicia e que quem prova vai à loucura. O seu buraco é requisitado; quem te fode sempre acaba tendo o melhor orgasmo da vida e pede bis, isto é, quando não morre de prazer.

🔞 Dark | sexo rude | protuberância na barriga

HOMELANDER empurra os quadris com tanta força que faz você, alguém que desde virgem sabe trepar como ninguém, gritar. O seu corpo está curvado contra a mesa de reunião dos sete há pouco mais de uma hora. Você perdeu a conta de quantas vezes Homelander gozou dentro nos últimos minutos, apenas sabe que não foram poucas.

O seu estômago cheio e a quantidade gritante de sêmen escorrendo da sua entrada confirmam isso.

A porra acumulada no seu buraquinho esguicha para os lados a cada investida bruta. O choque de peles espalha a bagunça gosmenta no chão e na mesa, para que um pobre funcionário se encarregue de limpar mais tarde.

O pau inchado do loiro orquestra uma cantiga molhada enquanto se afoga na própria porra ao desaparecer no seu corredor esponjoso. O sêmen quente, plantado com pressão em seu interior, às vezes borbulha, vazando para fora com bolhas pouco duradouras na composição espessa.

Você sente os efeitos do composto V estalando no ato curvar o pescoço e ver o seu ventre contendo o pau de Homelander, que só não atravessou seu estômago graças à sua resistente pele maleável. A protuberância em sua barriga some e aparece de acordo com os movimentos desesperados do super entre suas pernas.

Você pode até afirmar que está fora de si por estar babando e gemendo, mas não se compara ao homem choroso te comendo. Ele treme, tão desleixado que erra o seu buraco vez ou outra. Os olhos azuis dele estão marejados e os lábios vermelhos de tanto morder. O herói evita te tocar com as mãos, com medo de acabar quebrando o brinquedinho favorito dele.

Há 30 minutos, você tentou pará-lo, já cansado, dolorido e também por ter mais o que fazer, mas foi ignorado. Ao insistir, inutilmente tentando empurrá-lo pelo peito, você quase teve suas mãos desunidas dos pulsos.

Agora você se mantém pianinho, contraindo para ouvi-lo gritar e apressar aquele que talvez fosse o último orgasmo dele te inundando.

— Porra! E-eu te amo! – ele geme alto, e você sabe que não é sincero, Homelander sempre reforça isso. Ele fica assim quando fode, manhoso e estranho, sem a imponência usual. — Queria que você tivesse um útero pra eu encher de menininhos! Todos seriam fortes igual ao pai!

Manhoso e estranho pra porra.

Ele urra rouco e prolongado, forçando-se dentro do seu anelzinho dormente até não deixar espaço vazio dentro de você, arruinando suas entranhas com mais uma carga abundante do líquido branco. O membro grosso incha no seu interior e o formato exato do pau de Homelander marca o seu abdômen, cada vez mais robusto devido às investidas duras.

Ele cai exausto em cima de você, sentindo a própria liberação lambuzar o pau pela incontável vez seguida. À medida que geme no seu ouvido, ele volta a meter preguiçosamente com o pau meia-bomba - que permanece grande ainda assim - e, mesmo três minutos depois, consegue o feito de gozar mais uma vez, contraindo as bolas e liberando jatos grossos no seu reto judiado.

🔞 Degradação | Leitor dom | Hughie brat/sub

HUGHIE é uma vagabunda, uma cadelinha que adora latir entre quatro paredes. Você, mesmo sendo um dos sinônimos de vadia, sente-se puro o suficiente para chamá-lo de putinha.

Ele duvida dos seus poderes, assim como você também duvida às vezes, afinal, não dá para comer o próprio rabo. A única evidência que você tem são as expressões exageradas - semelhantes às feições bizarras de uma garota num hentai - dos homens que te fodem quase que loucamente nos seus dias úteis e inúteis.

Mas aquilo não é dúvida, é vontade, do tipo que pulsa na calça.

É notável que Hughie quer que você prove para ele a veracidade dos boatos que ele escuta nos corredores da empresa sobre você e o seu cuzinho de mel - apelido que te rouba um ano de vida sempre que você escuta.

No momento em que ele abre as pernas, afastando as coxas e exibindo o volume marcado no terno, passa a ser visível que o que ele realmente quer é um gostinho do que muitos já provaram.

Depois de tanto ouvir as experiências dos colegas de trabalho, o pobre homem se sentiu tão tentado que doeu todos os dias até hoje, quando ele finalmente criou coragem, entrou no seu escritório e se sentou na poltrona em frente à sua mesa, sorrindo ladino com a provocação na ponta da língua.

Deu certo.

Você pousa as mãos nos joelhos dele, agachado no carpete com o rosto próximo à virilha coberta do homem mais novo. Com a língua para fora, você desliza o músculo pela saliência de Hughie, sentindo o pau dele contrair através da lã azul. Mas você é interrompido por duas mãos nas laterais do seu rosto, apertando suas bochechas e erguendo seu olhar. — Pelo que eu saiba, o seu buraquinho gostoso não é a boca… – ele murmura, sorrindo jocoso.

Você ri soprado, convicto de que irá derrubá-lo e maltratar. — Quanta pressa… tá tão desesperado que não aguenta uma preliminarzinha? – você se apoia nas coxas dele para levantar e, propositalmente, afunda as unhas na carne censurada. — Ok, vou te dar o que você quer, só não vem com chororô pra cima de mim se a sua piroquinha não der conta do recado, tá? – sentado nas coxas de Hughie, você empina a bunda, arrastando o quadril em cima dele até estar pressionando os glúteos na área necessitada do rapaz, que grunhe em resposta.

Você desabotoa o zíper da calça social dele e ele faz o mesmo com a sua. Hughie fica com a peça estagnada no meio das coxas, enquanto você se levanta para se livrar totalmente da sua antes de retornar para o colo do mais alto. Você resmunga ao sentir o zíper dele roçando na sua pele, mas logo esquece.

Ambos se encontram de cueca e com a camisa branca parcialmente desabotoada, friccionando seus membros enquanto se beijam furiosamente e trocam apertões sedentos em regiões aleatórias no corpo um do outro.

Hughie suspira durante o beijo. Com dificuldade, ele consegue falar contra seus lábios. — Em quan-quantas rolas você teve que sentar pra… pra conseguir um ca-cargo tão bom em… em tão pouco tempo? – Hughie impulsiona o quadril para cima, simulando estocadas, já dominado pela vontade de afogar o ganso.

— Em algumas, e todas eram maiores e mais grossas que a sua. – o homem abaixo de você estremece, principalmente por ter os mamilos provocados pelos seus dedos astutos, mas as suas palavras também têm peso nisso.

Hughie gosta desse tipo de coisa.

— Puta merda… – um risinho acompanha suas palavras. Você se diverte testemunhando a agitação patética dele. — Cê nem disfarça. – você torce os biquinhos inchados de Hughie entre os dedos, se deleitando com as contrações que arranca dele. — Se orgulha? Tem culhão pra assumir que é uma putinha patética que fica de pau duro quando pisam em você? – sua mão desce, apertando o pau de Hughie na cueca, enquanto a outra reveza entre apalpar o peitoral e o abdômen do mais novo. — Depois eu que sou o pervertid…

Você congela ao ouvir o som de algo rasgando.

Sua face neutra captura o sorriso maroto de Hughie. É a primeira vez que você deseja tanto fazer alguém chorar.

Ele tem as mãos firmes na sua bunda, separando as bandas com a ponta de três dedos ameaçando entrar no seu anel rugoso, agora exposto após Hughie rasgar sua cueca.

— Era a minha favorita… – você finge denguice, forçando um lábio trêmulo enquanto sorrateiramente desfaz o nó da gravata dele.

Lerdo. Você constata.

Ele está perdido nas próprias sensações, tão focado em esfregar a ereção no seu corpo e em dedar seu buraco que nem percebe as suas intenções perversas.

— Não é como se você não pudesse comprar outra. – responde Hughie. No momento em que você rodeia a seda no pescoço dele, ele sorri ainda mais largo do que antes.

Ele anseia que você dite quando ele pode ou não respirar.

Isso te deixa fraco, faz com que você se imagine empalado no pau dele, que prova não ser pouca coisa ao saltar glorioso da cueca, batendo no abdômen e ultrapassando a altura do umbigo, contrariando suas provocações anteriores.

Você bate na cabecinha inchada com a ponta dos dedos, arrancando um resmungo de Hughie. — Até que é grandinho. – você finge não estar surpreso. — Mas, não é questão de eu poder comprar outra, seu estúpido. – com uma mão na extremidade esquerda da gravata e a outra na direita, você estica ambos os lados. A pressão no pescoço de Hughie limita a chegada do ar nos pulmões, mas, em compensação, faz o sangue pulsar quente e forte nas veias do pau. — Eu comprei porque gostei, porra.

Hughie abre mais as pernas, criando um vão entre as coxas que quase te leva ao chão. Ele agarra a base do pau, batendo-o contra seu estômago, esfregando ele em seu corpo, espalhando pré-porra em você enquanto te encara pidão, implorando com um olhar brilhoso de cachorrinho. — Por favor… bota dentro! Eu não aguento mais!

Você se ajeita no colo dele, encaixando a ponta sensível no seu interior, também cansado de prolongar.

Hughie grita de prazer quando você senta de uma vez, o engolindo por completo com o seu anel de músculos, esmagando as bolas dele com sua bunda. — Shhh! – você aumenta o aperto na garganta dele, sufocando os gemidos escandalosos do homem eufórico.

Ele não consegue controlar os impulsos e guia-se fundo em você, apertando a sua cintura com os dedos trêmulos, empurrando para cima, sentindo e confirmando na prática tudo o que ouviu sobre o seu buraquinho mágico.

É quente, macio e muito, muito apertado.

— Caralho! Você vai entortar o meu pau! – é o que Hughie diz, mas o que você ouve não passa de uma tentativa chorona de fala.

Enquanto você geme de olhos fechados, sentindo seu interior arder, esticado para acomodar o membro necessitado, Hughie esperneia, chora, baba e contrai todo o corpo, encharcando você por dentro com um pau chorão que convulsiona sem parar.

Ele dá três tapinhas nos seus pulsos, pedindo para você afrouxar o aperto, mas como é na sua palma que reside o controle, você resolve brincar, potencializando a pressão da gravata no pescoço dele. Hughie revira os olhos e bota a língua para fora, exatamente como uma peituda num hentai fodido. Você cospe dentro e agarra-lhe a mandíbula, fechando a boca dele e fazendo-o engolir.

Aquilo foi demais para Hughie aguentar.

Você sente o calor e a umidade familiar entupir suas entranhas, te enchendo até a borda. Hughie continua metendo de forma errática e desesperada, gemendo choroso ao liberar cargas grossas no seu interior apertado, lambuzando ainda mais seus corpos com o choque de peles. A porra quente vaza aos montes e Hughie se esforça para mantê-la dentro.

Você sorri maldoso e contrai o reto, estrangulando o pau melado do homem manhoso, sabendo muito bem o que vem a seguir…

Hughie geme sem voz, com a boca aberta, porém muda. Ele volta a foder o seu buraquinho alagado de esperma, à mercê de um segundo orgasmo que escapa do pau superestimulado, mais potente e abundante dessa vez. As bolas dele contraem, batendo nos seus glúteos no ritmo dos quadris, que colidem contra seu corpinho em uma velocidade instintiva.

O último esguicho te enche com o pau grosso fincado, estático nas suas profundezas até o talo. Hughie te abraça com força, tremendo ofegante, tentando se recuperar, desejando descanso, mas o caralho dele simplesmente não amolece. — Você me quebrou…

— Eu te dei o melhor orgasmo da sua vida e você me proporcionou uma foda medíocre. Não me parece justo… eu nem gozei! – você se esfrega para frente e para trás no colo de Hughie, lambuzando as coxas, a cueca e a calça social arriada dele com a porra que escorre do seu anel esticado, ainda com o pau pulsante alojado profundamente em você. — Vai precisar se esforçar bastante pra nivelar as coisas, gatinho… – você sussurra, mordiscando o queixo dele.

Hughie choraminga, levantando da poltrona com você no colo, quase caindo devido ao tremor das pernas. Ele colide seu corpo contra a parede, unindo seus peitos suados e batendo forte no seu corredor esponjoso. — Vou te foder em todos os cantos dessa porra de escritório!

🔞 Sexo rude | sexo com raiva

BRUTO tem os dedos firmemente rodeados no seu pulso, tão agarrados que machuca. Ele puxa você para um beco, o primeiro lugar disponível que encontra, apesar de não ser nada propício.

— Billy, pera aí! Tá machucando meu braço! – você tenta acompanhá-lo, a princípio, passivo às ações contestáveis.

Mas a sua paciência não é santa; ela evapora ao ser testada.

Sua voz estoura em um grunhido quando Billy aperta seus ombros e empurra sua estrutura menor contra os tijolos da parede próxima. — Mas que buceta! Por que você tem que ser sempre tão pau no cu? Que caralho eu te fiz? – o ardor desconfortável nas costas ocasiona na face contorcida e em frustração genuína.

Na mesma delicadeza de quem acorda durante uma cirurgia e sente a incisão, voam os seus punhos fechados contra o peitoral de Bruto, acertando a musculatura coberta. 

Faz, no máximo, ele sorrir.

Você não sabe o que atiçou a raiva dele, apenas consegue supor, certeiramente, que tem a ver com o grupinho de justiceiros que ele lidera, ao qual ele garante a sua completa ausência e ignorância no âmbito. Billy não te quer naquele meio.

Mas algo o frustra, e ele pretende descontar em você.

Dentro de você.

— Era pra doer? Bora, porra… cê consegue bater mais forte. – o desgraçado sabe que aquele é você dando tudo de si. Ele comprime o espaço entre os corpos, prensando-se contra a sua estrutura vulnerável, provocando ao fazer, com extrema facilidade, o contrário do que você tentou impor com seus socos exaltados. — Filho da puta… amarrotou a minha camisa! – ele curva o pescoço, dramatizando o amasso fútil no tecido floral.

Quando ergue a cabeça e pesca o seu estado acuado, Billy ri fraquinho. Nunca divertido.

A voz, as provocações e a feição risonha estão carregadas de luxúria densa, tão evidente que exala feito aura. A irritação também é notada ao fundo de cada frase, faiscando discretamente na fricção dos caninos, e exposta de maneira didática com a brusquidão com que Bruto te toca, aperta e mantém cativo naquele cantinho esquecido de Nova York.

O sol de verão atua no céu, encenando o terceiro ato daquela sexta-feira à tarde. É possível ver a luz laranja na entrada do beco, que pouco ilumina o espaço entre prédios.

Entretanto, o ambiente taciturno não te faz ceder. — Não… aqui não… – seu embargo dá pistas sobre a libidinagem que você tenta esconder e Billy passa a focar mais nas entrelinhas. — Em lugar nenhum, na verdade! Cê me tratou feito um qualquer, de jeito nenhum que eu vou liberar pra… Ei!

Você fecha as pernas quando Bruto tenta abrir caminho entre elas usando o joelho. Suas bochechas coram e você engole seco, testemunhando a feição destemida do mais velho denotar as pretensões maliciosas por debaixo dos traços.

Billy leva as duas mãos até a parte interna das suas coxas, separando-as e se enfiando entre elas sem cerimônia. — Vagabunda ingênua… tentou mesmo esconder sua ereção de mim? – sussurra rouco no pé do seu ouvido enquanto simula estocadas, esfregando o próprio volume latejante contra o seu. — Para de bancar o puritano, nanico. Você não passa de uma putinha incubada. Esse inchaço na sua calça diz tudo.

O apetite do justiceiro é voraz. Os dedos dele escorregam do seu quadril e pousam na sua bunda, afundando os dígitos na carne traseira, estapeando e apertando com gana.

Você pende o corpo para frente, preferindo a dureza de Bruto à rigidez da parede. — Se for seguir essa sua lógica esquisita, você é mais puto que eu. Seu pau falta explodir de tão inchado!

Apesar do desejo salientado a cada arfada, seu orgulho e teimosia sobressaem às vontades da carne. Você insiste nos débeis empurrões para afastá-lo, com o plus das unhas indo de encontro ao pescoço de Billy, arranhando, arrancando sangue e o fazendo grunhir. 

Ser tão facilmente dominado por Bruto te deixa de perna bamba, mas também faz você querer, mais do que tudo, contrariá-lo.

— Cacete… Deixa de cu doce! – o autocontrole o abandona. As mãos de Billy trilham cegamente o caminho apontado por seu instinto animalesco; uma delas se apronta nos seus pulsos, os prendendo na parede acima da sua cabeça, já a outra ajeita-se na barra do seu short e cueca, puxando para baixo num piscar de olhos.

Nu da cintura a canela, você se sente vulnerável. O peito sobe e desce aflito enquanto você analisa os lados, preocupado com possíveis observadores à esquerda e à direita.

Notando seu incômodo, Bruto se compadece; — Relaxa. Não vai ser gostoso pra você se eu enfiar contigo tenso desse jeito. Ninguém tá vendo, então pode afrouxar o cu. – ele acaricia sua palma, buscando transmitir conforto, mesmo com intenções contrárias para atingir os finalmentes.

— Idiota. – você sorri com os olhos. — Pode me soltar agora? Quero te tocar.

— Não. – Billy segura a parte posterior do seu joelho e a articulação dobra quando ele ergue a sua perna. Ele te tem servido bem ali, em pé naquela caverna urbana. — Tô puto, sem paciência e te conheço muito bem. Só seja um garoto obediente, tá? Não quero te arrebentar demais.

Foi tudo muito rápido. Você perdeu o momento em que Bruto abriu o zíper do jeans e tirou o pau da calça, facilitando para ele te predar.

Ele inclina o quadril para frente, pressionando sua entrada com a cabecinha inchada. Billy provoca o anel muscular esfregando e espalhando sua essência na fenda enrugada, intercalando com impulsos ameaçadores, dando a entender que vai meter, mas recuando em seguida, sem nunca cortar contato.

Percebendo que ele não pretende te preparar, você recua, ou melhor, tenta e falha, pois não há nada além de tijolos nas suas costas. — Cê vai mesmo enfiar no seco? E a elegância, cadê? – sua rigidez pulsa com tamanha aspereza, mas o receio ainda é residente.

— Eu não pretendo ser gentil, foi mal, coisinha. – o sorriso cafajeste nunca deixa a face madura. Bruto mordisca seu queixo e lambe seus lábios antes de depositar um selinho casto. — Mas ó… – ele eleva o corpo sobre o seu e, por consequência, aprofunda um pouco mais a carne dentro de você. — Se tu lamber, prometo atolar meu cacete bem devagarinho na sua bunda. – Billy tem o pescoço próximo ao seu rosto, exibindo os vergões que você deu à pele. Dos arranhões, brota uma pequena quantidade de sangue. — O que cê acha, hein? Até eu prefiro assim, porque se eu meter de uma vez, vou ter que ficar um bom tempo sem te arrombar depois.

— Deve estar ardendo… – seus pulsos são libertos e você usa os ombros do mais velho como apoio.

— Nossa, você não tem ideia do quanto dói! – ele se coloca em um falso estado de lástima, fazendo beicinho e enrugando o queixo.

— Dramático. – você revira os olhos, mas acata as condições, ansiando com a barriga fria pela interação libidinosa.

Seu músculo molhado escapa da boca entreaberta, atraído pelo rubro. A língua quente encontra o ferro, que, na ocasião, se assemelha ao suco conservado na polpa de uma maçã. Você troca o suor por saliva e sente o salgado suave junto ao sangue que quase inexiste, nascido das feridas. É viciante e você quer mais, então puxa Bruto pela nuca e inicia uma escavação com os dentes. O ouro que você encontra é vermelho.

— Filho da puta… Era pra você limpar a porra do sangue, não tirar mais. – ele chia, esmagando sua cintura até te ouvir choramingar. — Bem, se você não cumpriu a sua parte, o que me impede de não cumprir a minha?

Você nega freneticamente com a cabeça, mas vê-se lacrimejando, tremendo e gemendo no instante em que Bruto ignora a resistência do seu buraco despreparado e empurra com força. É tão apertado que um impulso não foi suficiente, apenas metade entrou. Billy enfia os centímetros restantes, sentindo seu estômago acomodar a ponta enquanto o comprimento é esmagado pelo corredor esponjoso.

Você o abraça, gemendo palavras irreconhecíveis e descontando a dor e o prazer com mordias e arranhões em qualquer pedaço de carne à disposição.

Está tão fundo. O pau de Bruto esmaga suas entranhas e rouba sua vitalidade, transformando você na vadia perfeita que geme, controce e contrai.

A pélvis dele bate contra a sua a cada investida violenta, o quadril colidindo até o talo. O som molhado ecoa pelo beco e com certeza os ouvidos nos apartamentos acima ouvem os gemidos e estocadas, talvez até estejam se divertindo com o show.

Se fosse com qualquer outra pessoa, Billy duraria horas, mas é com você e esse seu estranho e maravilhoso poder de extrair tudo daqueles que ousam tirar uma casquinha.

As bolas inchadas, cheias de porra para liberar, batem contra seus glúteos no ritmo frenético e desesperado que Bruto adota. Ele geme manhoso, se provando mais cadela do que você.

Quando ele goza, te enche tanto que o sêmen escorre em cascatas para fora do seu orifício dormente. A transparência espessa é quente e abundante, mas o justiceiro não se contenta com apenas uma liberação. A sensação de atolar seu interior com cargas grossas é incrível demais.

O pau dele não para de contrair; você sente cada latejar, cada pulsar das veias.

Prever o futuro não é uma de suas habilidades, mas naquele momento, é perfeita a imagem que você tem da sua figura cambaleando para fora do beco, mancando e andando esquisito para evitar que a porra acumulada no seu buraco escorra por entre suas pernas trêmulas.

⣿A parte do Homelander desse tamanho 🤏 comparada com a dos outros. Perdão qualqer erro, terminei e postei direto, mal revisei

[issdisgrace]

Love the idea of Butcher with a husband that’s taller, meaner, and more stubborn than him. And you’d think they would be a terrible couple and they would fight all the time but it’s quite the opposite. They never fight, they’re nice to each other in their own weird ways, and they balance each other out perfectly. And overall they’re just a huge power couple.

[writeshite]

Okay wait but Butcher fucking you slow and sweet though, murmuring soft praises and compliments while keeping his eyes on yours. Tells you how good you feel and look while you take him and covers your face in kisses. Sigh.

I need him to deep fuck me the same way you deep clean a room

[gatorbites-imagines]

*knock knock* If it's possible I'd like to request a Butcher x Male reader where they meet each other and starts dating and then Butcher learns that his s/o is kind of Homelander's brother and he feels conflicted af? But it ends up in fluff?

Thank you so much if you can do it! <3

Billy Butcher x Male reader

Headcanons

Reader is a supe, cuz I love characters having powers hehe. Reader looks kinda like Homelander in this, but just enough that they could be siblings ya know?

-          You and Butcher met in a very normal way, at a bar for the less than legal people who did the type of work you both do. Butcher wants to get rid of supes, you want to get rid of supes. You were both good at what you did and had similar opinions, so you started to get to know each other.

-          Now, you had never known your past. All you knew was that you were a supe yes, but your adoptive mother had rescued you from somewhere. You had been so little at the time that you didn’t remember more than white cold walls, and someone’s hand holding your own.

-          Your mother never told you much about where she rescued you from, just that it was a horrible place. You learned after she died that she was a scientist for Vought, so you could only assume that was where she rescued you from.

-          Your mother was killed by supes, you knew it had to be Black Noir. Your family had been hunted for most of your life, you assumed because Vought wanted you back. Your mother had succeeded in removing the tracking chip from your body when she rescued you, but they still followed you.

-          Because she was taken from you, your hate for the supes and Vought grew and you started to work in the business of taking them down, using your powers.

 -          You had always assumed you hadn’t discovered all your powers, but you could fly, was indestructible and had super strength and speed. That was all you needed in your opinion.

-          In the beginning you and Butcher just got along as allies, but as time passed you got closer and closer. He was cautious because of your powers, but overtime he calmed down and you became friends.

-          When The Boys became a thing after Hughie’s girlfriends death, you and Butcher had been friends for a while so you were the first to join up. When the whole thing with translucent happened the hero had looked at you when you entered and for a second thought you were there to save him.

-          When he called you Homelander you almost snapped and killed him on the spot, but Butcher calmed you down enough to leave him alone.

-          It was always something you had suspected, and Butcher had had his theories as well. With your powers being so similar to Homelander and the fact that some of your facial features were similar to the number one hero.

-          But you had never looked into it, not wanting any connection to that monster who claimed to only want the best for the world.

 -          The two of you starting to date just kinda happened. You two had gotten closer, both physically and emotionally. One day you just noticed how you Billy would lean against your shoulder or your arm would go around his waist.

-          It was when your teammates asked if the two of you were dating that you both had to confront your brewing feelings. Now, neither of you were good at talking about feelings so it just ended with the two of you sitting in Butchers car as you drove.

-          You both ended up just confessing, and Butcher pulled the car over on the side of the rode where no one could spot you, took of his seatbelt, leant over, and kissed you. In the end you accidentally ripped your seatbelt as you wrapped your arms around him and pulled him in close.

-          You never outright said you were boyfriends, but you both knew you were together and your teammates knew, so that’s all that mattered.

-          Your dynamic didn’t change much after that. Butcher was still rude ass Butcher, and you were the one supe he didn’t want to take out back and kill. You just were more open with your affection now and your kisses.

-          It was during one of your passionate moments that your eyes flashes red for the first time. You had been so consumed by feelings with Butcher above you, suddenly your eyes felt so hot, hotter than ever before.

-          Butcher had frozen in what he was doing and looked at you with a shocked expression. Seeing his expression you had panicked too, not knowing what was wrong, and the heat in your eyes disappeared.

 -          You didn’t continue your passionate time together. You both got cleaned up and Butcher was quiet and tense. When you asked what was wrong, what had happened, he didn’t say anything for a while until he told you that your eyes as glowed, bright red, like Homelander.

-          At first you had chuckled because you thought it was a joke, but the seriousness in Butchers expression told you he wasn’t trying to make you laugh. You could feel your heart sinking and fear gripped your heart.

-          Your worst fear was being related to Homelander in any way, especially because you knew what he had done to Butcher, what he had taken from him.

-          You tried to come up with any excuse on why it was like this, tried to come up with a logical explanation on why your powers were an exact copy of Homelanders, but it all came back to you being related to him, his brother.

-          The apartment was quiet after that, until Butcher got up, grabbed his keys, and said he was going for a drive. You knew he needed it to clear his mind, but it still made you want to curl up and cry, fearing he would leave you.

 -          After Butcher left you had sat in the apartment for a while, staring at your hands in your lap trying to figure out any way to not make him leave you.

-          Feeling frustrated you left the apartment and went flying, flying high above the clouds to have some time to think and time to yourself. You had always had great senses, but it was like this stressful situation was the last kick your body needed to truly power you up.

-          Suddenly your senses were greater than ever before, and you clamped your hands over your ears as you could hear everything. The only thing that kept you from not losing your mind was the fact that you could hear Butchers heartbeat, calm and not in danger.

-          You noticed a red glow coming from your eyes, the heat from before was back, but this time it wasn’t summoned from passion but from stress and rage. You despised what you were because you feared it would take the one person you cared for away from you.

-          Before you knew it the heat gathered and gathered until bright red lasers shot from your eyes out across the clouds, a beam of death that disappeared from sight and ceased to exist after a while. You panted, letting your hands fall to your side with shaking fists.

-          Staring out in the direction you had just shot lasers, you took a deep breath, and returned home. You took the long route, hearing that Butcher had retuned yet as his heartbeat was further away. You didn’t go to sleep when you got home, you just say in your living room with the tv turned off, trying to learn to control your new senses.

 -          When Butcher returns a few hours later you art still sitting on your couch, eyes clenched shut in fear of them glowing again, a horrible migraine present because of the influx of sounds you could hear or things you could smell.

-          You don’t react much when he sits down beside you, scared to break the silence fearing what he will say. But you do relax some of your tense muscles when you take in his scent and listen to his heartbeat, knowing he is right there with you.

-          Finally Butcher is the one to break the silence, and you still keep your eyes clenched shut as they start to burn again as he hesitantly starts talking about his feelings. Its no secret Butcher hates talking about his feelings and would rather do anything else, but here he is confessing how it scares him sometimes that he could lose you, or how he doesn’t know what to do with himself because of your relation to Homelander.

-          You must have made a face at the mention of the blonde hero, because Butcher gives a dry chuckle, and reassures you that you aren’t Homelander and never will be him. When Butcher takes your hand you almost star crying, feeling his warm rough palm in your own.

 -          Butcher reached up with his other hand and cradles your face, carefully turning you to him. He’s silent for a bit before he softly asks you to open your eyes, to which you shake your head fearing you’ll accidentally kill him with your newly discovered powers.

-          His voice is soft when he tells you that you won’t hurt him, because he loves you and trusts you, the brit leaning in afterwards and softly kissing you. The action makes tears gather in your eyes again and you finally dare to crack them open.

-          You can tell they’re glowing, and for a split second you fear Butcher will flinch or back away, but he just smiles softly and rubs his thumb over your cheekbone. “There are those pretty eyes of yours” he says, voice soft and adoring in a way that makes your chest ache in a good way.

-          The heat in your eyes stay as you lean in and kiss him again, gripping onto his jacket in a desperate manner as his arms wind around you and pull you against him. The kiss is full of love and devotion, and your fears lessen as he only holds you tighter like you’ll disappear if he lets go.

-          Even as you cuddle into his arms and rest against his chest the heat stays, though lesser than before, but Billy says nothing against it and just holds you as he turns on the tv. You would figure out your new powers together, Billy was still by your side, and that’s all that mattered.

[dangerousstrawberryshark]

Shit I want to be double stuffed by Soldier Boy and Billy Butcher so bad 😩

AHHHHHH. Me too.

Please feed me horny thoughts (maybe with a side of angst, fluff or yandere.)

[iikkeee]

The boys characters reaction when you bring a stray cat home

Includes- Homelander, Black Noir, Hughie Campbell, Billy Butcher

Warnings: none, all fluff <3

A/n: I was just randomly thinking about this and had to write it, if anyone wants to request more “the boys” content then feel free to message me!!!

_________________________________________________

Homelander

When you found a little ginger cat on the street crying for help you couldn’t help but grab it, you quickly brought it home and got all the necessary items to take care of him. You were placing the kitty on its bed when you heard the whoosh of John’s cape. “Honey, I’m home” he yells from the living room “I’m up here!” You yell from the bedroom, he raises his brow in confusion but heads up the stairs. When he walks into the room he stops moving “John…?” You say concerned as to what he’s thinking. “Huh” is all he could manage to say, he was surprised to say the least. A cat in your house? it was weird, he’s never felt the need to have a pet and he definitely doesn’t want to take care of it. “I just found him and I had to take him home, please let me keep him” you plead with him grabbing his hand in between both of yours, he stays quiet for a moment longer before just sighing “fine” you smiled and gave him a big kiss before going to hug the kitten and bring him towards John “this is your daddy” you said to the kitty while handing it over to him. John immediately tenses up as he holds the small cat in his arms before looking down at kittens small face and giving it a small smile, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad..? He always did want a family and this cat was the closest thing he was going to get a son. You smiled as you looked at the scene in front of you “looks like you like him John” you teased “hmm…maybe” he replied giving you a small smirk as he cuddled the kitten closer.After a while John got used to the cat and would often be seen playing with or trying to teach him weird tricks so he would in John’s words “be a great superhero like his father” whatever that means…. _________________________________________________

Black noir

You whined slightly as you opened a cardboard box to reveal a small black cat, you quickly grabbed it and took it inside. Black noir was sitting at the table and noticed as you hurriedly came inside, he quickly got up to see if you were okay. “Noir look” You say as you hold the kitten to your chest, he looks down and cocks his head to the side. He gently takes the cat from your arms and sits down on the couch “do you want to keep it?” You asked as you sat down next to him, watching him as he sweetly pets it and plays with it. He moved his head to look at you and you smiled knowing his answer. He’s always wanted a pet but didn’t know if he could take care of it properly and this was the perfect opportunity to finally find out. Noir found the kitten so adorable and wants to do everything to protect it, he always tucks the kitty in on your shared bed and feeds him the best treats, the cat loves him and you can often find them together in weird places, you laughed as you saw how the cat would climb on Noir and would plop itself on Noirs shoulder or head. You and Noir would cuddle on the couch as you watched the kitty go crazy over some rat chasing videos. Noir would let the kitten chase him around the house and even bite him if they were both playing, they were extremely close and would play some tricks on you for fun. Overall Noir loved that cat with every fiber of his being. _________________________________________________

Hughie Campbell

When you found a box of kittens you quickly ran inside and placed them down on the table, Frenchie and Kimiko saw your panicked face and ran over “awww!” Frenchie exclaimed while Kimiko had a big smile on her face “What’s going on over here?” Hughie asked as he walked over to your little group, you all moved away from the box making space for him. “Omg” he exclaimed before hurriedly picking up one from inside the box. Hughie always loved animals so once he saw that box he immediately wanted to give them all the love in the world “aren’t they so cute??” You ask as you cuddle one of the kittens close to you “Where did you find them?” He asks as he holds one of them high in the air and gives it kisses “Just outside” you answer as you give one a kiss “must be an early Christmas present” Frenchie exclaims before winking and grabbing two of the kittens for him and Kimiko to hold on the couch. “Oh really this early?” You tease “we need to keep them” Hughie exclaims “all four?” You ask getting close to him “yes, all four” He states before giving you a quick peck “that’s if butcher allows you to keep them” Frenchie says while sighing “who cares what he thinks?” You say as you cuddle the two cats you and hughie have. After a while Butcher got used to the cats and let you keep them, Hughie gives them all cute names that all relate to each other. You can often see the kitty’s cuddled up on his sleeping body after a mission or errand, you always smile at the scene and tuck them all in making sure to give them all goodnight kisses even Hughie. He would treat all the cats equally with how much time he plays with them or the treats that he gives them. He loves to put the cats next to you and watch how you interact with them. _________________________________________________

Billy Butcher

When you found a kitten outside that clung onto you for dear life you had to take her in, you smiled as you held her in your coat and showed her small little figure to Marvin and Frenchie. As soon as you heard the door click you hide her in your jacket, afraid of what Billy would say. He quickly walked inside ignoring you guys on the couch and talking about how he had a fight with some supe before stopping in his track and noticing the guys crowded around you. “Now, now, what the fuck are you guys crowding around for?” He asked before moving towards you and looking down at your coat showing him a glimpse of the kittens fur “would you look at that?” He teased as he crouched down so he was in direct eye contact with the small feline. Billy was never really a cat person especially since he had terror, he didn’t really understand how to take care of one in the first place so when you asked if you could keep the cat he was shocked nonetheless. He never gave you a clear answer and would mumble or grumble whenever you asked, it took him a long time to get used to the kitten and you would often see him and the cat just chilling on the couch together. But whenever you would look away or pretend to not be looking, Butcher petted the cat and gave her ears scratches “you’re such a good girl” he whispered thinking you wouldn’t hear, you would chuckle and he would quickly back away acting like nothing happened “I think you like her billy…” you teased as you cuddled up next to him. “Pft…never” he said sarcastically, making you roll your eyes. He would dress her up in different outfits and would buy her the best treats while still claiming he didn’t like the cat. You would tease him for every time you saw him sharing cute moments with the kitty. Overall he’s like a dad he said they never wanted an animal and end up loving it the most out of anyone. _________________________________________________

[stag-nite]

[estuporious]

Y/N: Last night i felt something crawling through my body..

Butcher: ¿Depression?

Frenchie: ¿Your past?

MM: ¿Remorse?

Hughie: Sorry, that was me trying to cuddle with you.

[max-re]

Hello! I just wanted to make this post saying that I now do fic and headcannons! This is my master list for my fandoms and boundaries!

Fandoms I'm a part of

Avatar(Blue cat people)

PJO

Star Wars

Assassin's Creed

Simon Snow

Marvel

COD

Resident Evi

RDR2

Mortal kombat

The Boys

Halo

Titanfall2

Gotham TV show

Boundaries

I won't do mary sue, gary sue readers or anything like that.

I won't do rape, internalized homophobia, hebephelia, or anything along those lines!!

Same thing with DV, abuse or addicted related things

Here's the request link for fics!! I also have a linktree!!

https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScnh_MEVNahGsrjUSN_lENli7EP_4e1SoaXJFVD8tgPq-tUVA/viewform?usp=sf_link

Linktree link!!

https://linktr.ee/max77_6

That's about all I have, but if you have any questions, lmk!

[marrziy]

Como sempre, um petisquinho antes da janta 🤭 só falta escrever a versão do Bruto, então talvez eu poste amanhã (spoiler: não vai acontecer

[thewritersaddictions]

Fanfiction Guide

Feedback is greatly appreciated; All of these stories are written by @thewritersaddiction (aka) me. I'd like to give thanks to @firefly-graphics for the dividers and anything that she has made. Everything you read on here will most likely have grammar errors and many mistakes. All of that is due to me!

Here is the Tag Lists Here Link to Archive Who I write Link here

Strangers Things Master List

The Adults : The Adults Part 2

The Elders

The Witcher Master List

The Bard

The Heros

Marvel Master List

The Rich

The Old

The Bad

Resident Evil Master List

Resident Evil 3 Master List

Resident Evil 4 Master List

Resident Evil 8 Master List

Resident Evil Death Island Master List

Call Of Duty Master List

The Walking Dead Master List

The Law

The Wanderers

The Boys Master List

Actors/Actress List Criminal Minds List Vampire Diaries List The Originals List The Last Of Us List Requests List Drabbles List Drabble List P2 Prompts List Series List Writing Challenge List

Fanfiction Guide Tags-

[writeshite]

Teasing Billy butcher by pinning him to a wall, rubbing your crotch on his, whispering in his ear and grabbing his ass

[gatorbites-imagines]

Yall should i add the boys to my writing list? I dont have access to watch it but ive read alot about it and read the synposis of each episode. I love these toxic motherfuckers man, i wanna hold and kiss em.

[littleoddwriter]

Hii, i was just thinking on a Billy Butcher x Male reader where the reader is working extremely hard on a project and is exhausted and Billy tells him to take a break?

Maybe something cute like a soothing warm bath and kisses in the crook of the neck?

Thank you in advance 🥰❤️

Relax | Billy Butcher x Male!Reader

Hey there! Sorry it took me a bit! But thank you for the request, I really hope you like what I've done with it! <3 Just in time for Season 3 starting, heh. :')

summary; See above.

notes; Male!Reader; Overworking; Relaxation; Bathing Together; Neck Kisses; Fluff.

For days all you’ve done was work, eat and sleep; although you only did the latter when Billy practically pulled you away from your project and forced you to sit down and eat something, or lie down and sleep for a few hours. He appreciated that you were working so hard and he understood that you were determined and had a deadline to finish at, but he worried about you. 

After all, Billy knew that working yourself into the ground wouldn’t do you any good at all. It wouldn’t help your project, nor yourself. To make you see that was a little more difficult, though. 

“Oi, Y/N!” he called, walking over to you after coming home from a long day of Vought-related work. 

He knew he was making you a target by being with you and especially living with you, but he couldn’t help himself. 

Before you two had moved together, he'd told you what he was up to and what the risk of staying with him would be. And all you had said was that he was stuck with you now, because never in your life would you willingly leave his side. Sometimes, he wondered what he had done to deserve you. He was convinced that he didn’t. 

As a greeting in return, you simply hummed, clearly too deep into your work to even speak, let alone look at him. 

Sighing, Billy put his hands on your shoulders and rubbed them lightly, giving you a small massage. 

Softly, you hummed in appreciation, but kept working. 

He was tempted to force you to a stop, but he knew you would be angry with him, then. And he didn’t exactly fancy that at the moment. He just wanted to relax a bit with you, escape reality, and simply be. 

“Love, when was the last time you took a break?” he inquired after a few more moments of massaging you lightly and watching you work.

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” you mumbled almost incoherently. 

“Okay, maybe you should be takin’ one now,” Billy tried, keeping his voice light and gentle.

“But-”

“No, you have to take a break,” he said more firmly, “C’mon. Up with you.” He underlined his command by shoving you slightly, interrupting your motion. 

Annoyed, you grunted, but relented, letting your tools fall on your desk. “Fine.”

When you got up, you groaned, stretching your body slowly. Billy could hear your joints pop. 

At last, you smiled at him and leaned in for a kiss, “Hey.”

Kissing you back, Billy wrapped his arms around you and pulled you away from your work and into the direction of the bathroom, carefully navigating you both through the hallways, while keeping his limbs where they were. 

“You could really use a bath, y’know?” he told you with a crooked smile. 

“Rude. But yeah, you’re right. So what, ‘you gonna bathe me, or what?” 

“Somethin’ like that. Thought we could fit in the tub together, hm?” The two of you had never bathed together. But Billy felt like it was exactly what you needed to relax a bit. So did he. 

Shrugging, you looked at the bathtub, “Yeah, sure. I’d like to squeeze myself into it with you.”

While you both undressed, Billy turned on the tap to let warm water flow into the tub. 

Once you were inside, with Billy leaning against the tub, while his arms were wrapped around your waist again and your back rested against his chest, the two of you simply sat there in comfortable silence.

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you sighed contently. 

The way your head was tilted exposed your neck to him. Billy certainly couldn’t resist that and started kissing along the expanse of your skin there, making you chuckle because of the way his beard was tickling you. He couldn’t suppress his own smile, which made it harder for him to kiss your neck, but neither of you cared.

“You work far too hard,” he murmured against your skin, “It kinda worries me.” The confession didn’t go over his lips very easily. He hated to admit when he was worrying. He should just trust that you knew what you were doing, but he wasn’t so sure that was the case when you failed to take care of yourself.

“It’s just the stupid deadline, Billy. I really have to get it done by then, and… I’m scared I won’t make it otherwise. I don’t mean to worry you, darling,” you responded softly, turning your head to look at him.

“I know that, but I believe you’ll make it in time. I know you and your work. You always get there eventually. Just gotta remember to take care of yourself, too, or else both you and your project suffer the consequences, y’know?”

Sighing in defeat, you nodded, “You’re right. And it really shouldn’t be the case that you have to force me to do the most basic things. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I don’t care if I have to force feed you or anythin'. I just wanna know you’re okay when I’m not here, that's all.”

“I’ll work- uh, yeah, there’s no better word for it, is there? But yeah. I’ll make sure to take better care of myself. I promise,” you smiled at him, craning your neck to peck his lips. 

“That’s all I ask of you, baby.” Billy stroked his hands over your stomach and chest lovingly, pulling you a little closer as he did. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” you responded with a soft chuckle, “Thank you so much.”

Now, Billy only needed to trust you to keep your promise.

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Lavender

Summary : During a photo shoot for your hero carriages you get a message from Butcher that your friend Hughie is having a panic attack and they can't repent him. Immediately you come to him and have a calm, caring moment together with your boyfriend.

warning : fluff, hurt/comfort, healthy relationship, calming down, angst, hurt, comfort

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was in the middle of a photo shoot, the camera clicking and the photographer's constant instructions annoying her. Stupid ad agency she thought, holding the Parfun in the pink bottle closer to the camera.

She smiled her best smile and spunned around in her way too skimpy costume that couldn't show any more skin without making it look like a photo shoot for Only Fans. ,,All right, five minute break!" she heard Ashley call as she seemed to see the superheroine's expression grow more and more annoyed. ,,Thanks Ashley" she mumbled and threw the perfume almost carelessly into one of the art plants knowing it wasn't broken before disappearing into her room.

She sighed as she sat down on the chair in front of the large illuminated mirror.

Watching her hair sticking with glitter and hairspray, the green pink leather outfit with the fake flowers seeming to stick to her body. I hate it she thought and would have liked to get out of the clothes immediately.

But a glance at her phone and the spear screen of the man she loved let her know why she was doing this.

She was doing it for her friends, for what she wanted to stand for. She did it to bring Homelander down. To finally ask for justice.

She was about to reach for a bottle of water when suddenly her mobile phone made a pling sound. Curious, she reached for it, fearing it was some creepy fans who had sent her another dick pic.

But when she saw a message from Butcher she almost got serious. When she thought it was just a new report, something she had missed during the photo shoot.

It quickly turned into something that worried her. Hughie seemed to be having a panic attack and not calming down.

She didn't even answer, instead a buzz went through the air as a huge flower appeared in the middle of the secret hiding place. A sweet smell spread into the place before grass even grew under the flower.

Out of the bud came the superheroine with the planting skills. ,,Oi, I hope that goes away," she heard Butcher's sarcastic words, but she only looked at him demandingly before he pointed further down the corridor. ,,He hasn't been this bad in a long time," MM said, coming out of the room and shaking his head.

She nodded slightly, giving him a thankful look before knocking carefully on the door. ,,Hughie?" she asked quietly, listening into the room. She heard the crying, the sobbing and the whimpering.

Her heart contracted at the sound, it seemed to hurt her just as much to hear him like that.

She opened the door and went inside before slowly closing the door and seeing him.

The brown-haired man had retreated to the large bed, moved to the head end and rested his head on his drawn knees.

Every now and then he seemed to tremble slightly while muttering something to himself. It pained her to see him like this. To see him so afraid, so sad. ,,Hughie...it's me" she said slowly before slowly coming closer to the bed.

But she didn't sit down, she didn't want to overtax him, only irritate him more. ,,May I?" she asked, pointing to the bed. She saw him continue to cry before he lifted his head and nodded slightly.

She thanked him and sat down on the edge of the bed, her fingers running a little over the soft blanket. ,,Do...you want to talk about it?" she asked after a few moments in which he seemed to have calmed down at least a little. At least the trembling had gone from him.

Something that calmed her heart slightly, but the worry inside her had not gone away. It had become quiet, no one had said a word, only the rapid heavy breathing of Hughie could be heard.

The others who were either listening outside or doing something else seemed quiet too.

At least they understand, she thought, grateful to her friends and allies for giving Hughie peace. ,,N-No," came brittlely from his lips, but a moment later he put a hand on the bed beside him.

She saw the light tap of his finger on the soft mattress and knew he was telling her he was ready for her to come closer. That he was reasonably comfortable with her coming closer.

Despite the fact that they had been together for several months, they still lived in almost two different worlds. She superheroine, advertising face of perfume, makeup and countless flower shops.

And Hughie, Hughie was her adorable, sweet, helpful and maybe a little scared boyfriend.

Despite this, they lived for the same thing. To destroy the seven and defeat Homelander. It was not only a physical but also a mental strain.

Slowly she came closer to him and sat down next to him, watching him carefully to see what was getting him down. ,,Here, maybe this will help," she said after a moment and put her hand behind her on the wall of the room.

Her eyes lit up bright green for a moment before a small meadow spread out over the walls of the room before several flowers and bushes and small shrubs grew.

Instantly there was a sweet smell of the flowers and the room had a relaxed atmosphere.

Before she used her power to make lavender grow alongside the flowers. Maybe it has the same effect, she thought, remembering the many nights when neither of them could sleep properly.

Which is why she had grown lavender around their bed and they always fell asleep well and quickly. Before she saw the brown-haired man lift his head and wipe away a few tears.

His eyes ran over the many colourful flowers and she saw his tears actually stop. ,,This is pretty," he murmured and stretched out his legs, seeming to open slowly before giving her a small sad smile. ,,Yes...it is," she replied softly and slowly reached her arm out to him.

Stroked his shoulder gently and slowly, feeling his tension underneath. His eyes continued to watch the many flowers and the lavender seemed to do its natural work. ,,May I?" he asked slowly, pointing to her shoot.

At first she didn't quite understand what he wanted, but when she realised what he had in mind she nodded. ,,Of course Hughie come here," she calmly hummed and slapped her thighs.

Slowly the older man lay down with his head on her lap, pulling his legs up in an almost fetolane position. Her hands found their way into his hair, tracing the light strands, following his light curls.

She felt him slowly relax and his nervousness disappear. ,,It...was just too much today...too much...blood and too much pressure" he finally mumbled and she feared he would start crying again.

Which is why she made a small tendril with a flick of her wrist and covered him lightly with the blanket. ,,It's okay...it's over Hughie, I'm here with you. You're safe, I'll stay with you and I'm so proud of you," she said and continued to stroke his hair, hearing him sigh and his words lose their sad effect.

He gratefully pulled the blanket around him and was grateful for the place he had chosen. ,,Just relax...no stress, you've done so much today. We'll just stay here" she suggested feeling him nod slightly, smile slightly and mumble a ,,Thank you very much".

They lingered like this for a few moments until she took her free hand and made a small lavender flower. Holding it in front of his hands, she watched him open his eyes and accept it gratefully.

It seemed to finally give him the reassurance he needed. ,,I...love you for that," she heard him say and she felt the loving smile creep onto her lips before she stroked his head again. ,,I love you too Hughie...everything about you" she replied and turned off the light in the room with a flower.

Waited until Hughie's breathing became calmer and more regular before he fell asleep.

Before she allowed herself to fall asleep too, with Hughie still by her side, not leaving him as she had promised.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[zepskies]

Break Me Down - Part 1

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Female Reader

Summary: You’re a private investigator by trade, but now you happily sit at a desk — leading a surveillance team at Supe Affairs. After managing to end Homelander in New York, Soldier Boy escapes custody. You are recruited for the manhunt, joining Butcher’s team.

Truly, you joined the S.A. for the right reasons. But after you become his accidental hostage, Soldier Boy will break down every single one of them…

💚 Break Me Down Masterlist

Word Count: 5,200 Warnings: Some male skeeviness lol.

Part 1: The Game Begins

Two months ago…

You and M.M. continued to pour over all the records that the CIA had been able to pull on Soldier Boy.

This had been your life for the past month: locked in one hotel room after the next, up to your eyeballs in research. Or pounding the pavement in the sweltering summer of Brazil, on any whisper of Soldier Boy.

Right now it was the former. You all were piled into M.M.’s room, as it was the only one with a kitchen.

You smiled at Frenchie and thanked him when he offered you a steaming mug. At least you would finally get to experience Brazilian coffee.

You hiked a foot on the table where you and M.M. were working and sipped carefully; the mug was filled to the brim. Your companion eyed your pajama-clad leg, which only encroached an inch or two into his space.

“Excuse the fuck outta me,” said M.M. “Can you not?”

You briefly looked up from the (completely fabricated) biopic you were reading on Soldier Boy. “Hmm?”

M.M. gestured to your bare foot on the table. “Hello? What, were you raised in a fucking barn?”

With an amused smile, you lowered your leg. “I’m cramping up. We’ve been at this for six hours.”

“And counting,” Hughie said with a tired sigh. He and Annie had just come from scoping the local tourist spots and dive bars in the city. It wasn’t for pleasure though. You all had arrived in Brazil last night on a rumor that Soldier Boy had been spotted at a club a couple of days ago. 

Annie heaved a sigh as she dropped into the seat next to you. She stole your paper fan on the table and tried to dry the sweat on her face and neck. You smiled and passed her your bottled water as well.

You and Annie had been “work friendly” at Supe Affairs. Now you felt like she had accepted you the most readily into the group. She seemed genuinely interested in who you were as a person as well.

Though you tried not to give too many personal details about your life, she had a way of disarming you, getting you to open up with her genuine willingness to listen. 

You were friendly enough with Hughie and Kimiko as well, and you could also admit, you liked M.M. He was a straightforward man (and fun to tease with his anal idiosyncrasies). You got the most done with M.M. by your side. And watching him with Frenchie was pure entertainment. 

Overall, you felt respected by them, even if you knew you weren’t as close as the rest of them seemed to be. You just hadn’t been on the team long enough. 

The only one who mostly ignored you was Billy Butcher.

Butcher didn’t want you on the team. He’d made that pretty clear from the beginning.

What had his words been? Oh, yeah.

She’s a fucking amateur. Won’t last thirty seconds if, heavens for-fuckin’-bid, she encounters an A-lister like Soldier Boy. 

You knew he considered you dead weight. But as Grace had told him, her track record speaks for itself. 

No, you weren’t former SAS, like Butcher. You weren’t CIA, or any other military alphabet soup. But if there was one thing you knew how to do, it was tracking people down.

You were currently flitting through Soldier Boy’s sham career: the shitty music videos, the starlets, the ticker tape parades, and what precious little there was about his beginnings: about “Ben.” 

You did find out that his family was from Hartford, Connecticut, and stupidly rich too. You found his parents’ names to go along with that. 

And then it was a hop, skip, and a jump to him being unveiled as Soldier Boy.  

“That is curious,” you murmured. 

“Curious about the world’s most infamous granny fucker?” Butcher remarked. You slid him a wry look. 

The fact that he tried to erase his past is interesting,” you said. “The details that aren’t here are just as important as the ones that are.”

Butcher hesitated a second, an ice-cold beer poised to his lips. He tipped it toward you in acknowledgement. “On that, we actually agree.”

“What do we know about his real life? Before he became Soldier Boy,” you asked.

Butcher sat down across from you and shaded in the details he knew, mostly about a disappointed father. 

“Didn’t get enough hugs as a lad,” he surmised. 

You suspected he was understating the truth. If there weren’t that many recorded accounts, pictures, or footage of Soldier Boy’s parents and home life, then he didn’t want people to know. 

Interesting, you thought. Eventually Butcher got up to run down another lead that came in via text from Grace. Frenchie came back from the kitchen and saw how intently you were staring at your computer screen, eyes rapidly scanning. 

“Ah,” Frenchie said, gesturing between you and the departed Butcher with a hand that held three alfajores cookies. “I see the same anal tenacity that fuels Monsieur Charcutier.”

You raised a brow. “My tenacity is for the case, not Soldier Boy.”

This wasn’t a vendetta for you. This was just business.

“For money,” M.M. correctly guessed, but his eyes held no judgment. “Been there.”

You sighed, smiling a little. Yes, you were doing this for money. They didn’t need to know anything more than that. 

You liked this team well enough, but this was a job. The way you protected your family, and yourself, was by not talking about them.

That night, Frenchie’s ordered “package” arrived, courtesy of Grace. It was a healthy dose of Novichok gas—perhaps one of the only substances on Earth that could put Soldier Boy into a peaceful sleep. 

Well, you didn’t know if it was peaceful, exactly. But he’d be asleep. That was all any of you cared about.

“At least it’s in proper containment this time,” M.M. said, examining the large cannister. Annie peered at it over his shoulder. 

“I don’t know. My shitty perfume case seemed to hold it just fine,” she quipped. 

You smiled from your usual seat at your computer. Annie came over with a sandwich for both of you. It was from the café down the street, and you’d been meaning to try it. Every time you stood out on your hotel room’s balcony, you could smell fresh bread and smoked meats coming from the café. 

“Oh, yeah. How’s your sister?” Annie asked around a mouthful of sandwich. “She’s in college now, right?”

She had a good memory. Annie had heard you on the phone with your sister before you all left last month. You’d said one last goodbye, knowing it wouldn’t be safe to talk once you were locked into this mission.

While you were reluctant to answer Annie’s question, the others seemed distracted in the kitchen, fighting over who ordered chorizo and who ordered steak on their sandwich. 

Still, you lowered your voice, even as a proud smile graced your lips. “She got into Julliard.”

Annie grinned and set her food down to give a little clap. 

“She starts in the fall, so a few months,” you added.

“Aww, you’re glowing with pride,” Annie teased. And you laughed, but it was true. You wouldn’t hide that you were very proud of your little sister’s accomplishments. 

“She’s worked hard, and she deserves it,” you said. Though your eyes dimmed. “I just wish I could help her celebrate…she’s on my case for taking this job.”       

Quite simply, she worried about you. You were good at your job, but you were still human. She’d seen you come home banged up and bruised more often than you cared to admit…

Annie gave you a knowing look. “If you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to. I’m sure you can get other jobs—”

“Getting into school is just the beginning,” you said. “She’s got four years to go. Then her master’s. Hell, her doctorate if she wants.”

“There are scholarships…”

“It’s not enough,” you said with a sigh. It’s never enough.

“All right, lads,” Butcher said. He wiped his mouth with a napkin as he read off his phone. “The new Strongest Cunt in the World has been spotted. Suit up.” 

“Where’re we going?” you asked, closing up your laptop. 

Butcher shot you a wink. “Colombia.”

While on the private plane, you were the only one still awake as you continued to watch the archival footage with your Airpods in. Reel after motherfucking reel of Soldier Boy. 

You really were starting to get sick of his smug face. He was clearly a good actor, if nothing else. 

Then you came across the Russia files. 

Part of you didn’t want to watch. You knew exactly what they were, and you didn’t want to see anything that would make you sympathize with him in your mind…

And yet, your father’s training was ingrained in you—like fingerprints on your skin. Like a vice grip around your throat. 

Everything is relevant, always. Even if it isn’t.

…That, and maybe your own insatiable curiosity won out. 

So you steeled yourself with a breath, and you hit the play button. 

Gradually, your eyes widened. 

You had seen awful things—as a private investigator at your father’s firm, and at Vought. 

You had filled your quota of blood and death. And you had already seen the footage of Soldier Boy blasting a tower full of people in New York with the nuclear power now housed in his chest. 

You also knew what he did to M.M.’s family. But after watching several minutes of Soldier Boy's torture, hearing his struggle, his outbursts of rage, the ragged gasps for breath, the clawing, traumatized sounds...

It was like stereo between your ears, and it was...too familiar. Too much.

So you finally turned it off, closing your laptop with an unsettled breath of your own. 

And you were unable to sleep that night.

When you all finally arrived in Colombia, you and the team surveyed the wreckage in the casino.

It was a fucking blood bath.

As you stepped carefully through the wreckage of bodies and gambling chips, you looked for clues. Anything that might tell you about what Soldier Boy was doing here (though you could guess), and however unlikely, where he might go next. 

You were disheartened to find the body of a young woman. Her big blue eyes were vacant, her blonde hair caked with blood from a head shot. On further inspection, you found a small room key in her hand. 

With a sigh and a gloved hand, you took the key. You also closed the girl’s eyes. 

You kept looking while the others had fanned out in the opposite direction. When you came across a small table that wasn’t turned over or splintered into fragments, you raised a brow. There was a napkin pinned to the top with a steak knife. 

You yanked it out and examined the flimsy napkin. Noticing that you’d found something, Butcher came over to your side. He was much taller than you, fairly looming over your shoulder. You angled the note toward him. 

Try harder.

S.B.

It was more than just a taunt. 

It was the beginning of a game. And it made you smile. 

“What the hell’re you smiling about?” Butcher asked. 

“I like it when they’re cocky,” you replied. Butcher shot you a sideways glance, one that said you were maybe more deranged than even him.

“All supes are cocky bastards.”

You eyed him with a teasing grin. “On that, we actually agree.”

True to Grace’s word, she provided you all with the full extent of the CIA’s resources. While Butcher tracked down the hotel of the room key you found, you and M.M. were able to tap into any and all local street cameras and map out the likely points Soldier Boy had hit in this city—and where he could be going next.  

According to the hotel manager, Soldier Boy had paid for a month’s stay, but hadn’t checked out after coming back for some of his belongings. The security cameras had caught him leaving his hotel room with a few men—armed ex-military types, and possibly his new entourage. 

But the trail ended there. 

Over the next two months, Soldier Boy continued to be one step ahead of you in the chase. 

Though his movements were calculated (disappearing like a coil of smoke whenever you caught his scent), he seemed to be taking an extended vacation surrounding strip clubs, casinos, and other likely destinations for sex, drugs, and money. 

And he’d evaded capture after hitting at least three banks on his way out of the U.S. alone.

At the current crap motel of the week, you shared the couch with Kimiko and Hughie while you surveyed traffic cameras.

“What’s the likelihood that he’s even still in Colombia? In South America, even?” Hughie asked. It was a good goddamn question.

“We have agents covering every major port and air hanger,” M.M. said. “If he wants to escape the continent, he’s gonna have to fight his way out, or rent a dingy and float his motherfuckin’ ass across the Atlantic.” 

“I wouldn’t put anything past him,” you remarked. “What connections does he have?”

It wasn’t the first time you’d asked that question, but it was the first time you got a straightforward answer. 

“Who knows,” said M.M. “He’s an ancient fuck.”

“Who killed all his old friends,” Hughie supplied.

“Well, his team, to be fair. I don’t think he ever had friends,” Annie said. “...Plus his old girlfriend.”

“What a spectacular bonfire that was,” Butcher dryly quipped. 

Nice, you thought, heavy on the sarcasm. 

You sighed. Clearly, you all would have to be prepared for anything.

When you weren’t pouring through surveillance, you took to the streets with Annie, playing the part of American tourists. 

“Soldier Boy don’t know who the fuck you are,” Butcher had reasoned. He’d then pointed at Annie.

“Her fame as Starlight can get you two into whatever bar, club, or fuckhole that might’ve let him in. She’ll park it at a table, attracting attention. Meanwhile, you’ll circle around and look for him.”

It was actually a sound plan, and you could be a decent actor yourself. This wasn’t the first time you’d adopted a role to find your target, and on this mission, it probably wouldn’t be the last.    

Well, a week later, the plan worked. You and Annie encountered a woman at a bar who waited tables at a nearby club, in Medellin. She’d served Soldier Boy just last night. 

Medellin was considered the party city of Colombia, and for good reason. 

Butcher had cleverly found your “disguise” for tonight, though you hadn’t liked the smirk on his bearded face when he gave you the shopping bag. 

It turned out to be a semi-legal black leather dress, along with thigh-high boots possessing a sharp heel. Annie’s dress was just as short, and gold. With her blonde hair and shimmering makeup contrasting your black dress and smokey makeup, the two of you looked like night and day. Light and dark. 

While Hughie manned surveillance in a rented van, parked outside the club, the rest of the team had found strategic points to cover in the club: M.M. was at the bar. Frenchie and Kimiko had found a table to watch the area in front of the stage, while Butcher was somewhere clinging to the shadows. 

You followed Annie into the club. Once they’d recognized her as Starlight, they’d let her right in, and you by association. You didn’t envy her fame, but you could admit, it had some perks.

Inside, the club was dark and loud, and packed with people and streams of colorful light bouncing off the walls. This isn’t going to be easy. 

Both of you scoped the area subtly before joining M.M. at the bar. 

Well, you two found your own opening further down. Sitting next to him would be too obvious.   

You subtly pressed a finger to the communicator in your ear while Annie ordered drinks. 

“It’s gonna be hard to find my own ass in here,” you said to the team. You scanned the place and noticed an entire second and third floor. “This place is huge.” 

“Then get crackin’, love,” Butcher’s voice reached you. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, but you did take the vodka martini Annie offered you. 

“Ah, you beat me to it,” a man said, his richly accented voice hovering near your ear. You turned your head and had to lean back a bit. You were met with blue eyes, tan skin, and an attractive smile. The man tipped an imaginary hat, letting his shoulder-length dark hair dip into his eyes. 

“Good evening, mi vida,” he said. “I was gonna buy you a drink, but I see you’ve got one. Mind if I finish my beer with you?”

Inwardly you wanted to sigh, but you gave a flirtatious smile to keep up appearances. “Sure.”

“Where are you from?” he asked, and with a more teasing smile. “I’m having a hard time placing your accent.” 

You affected a giggle. “Oh, really? You mean I don’t have a massive, neon sign over my head that says, ‘American Tourist?’”

“Well, maybe not neon,” he joked. “I’m Antonio.”

“I’m Jess,” you lied, shaking his hand. He turned it over and pressed a kiss to the back of your hand. Annie raised a brow behind you, but she sipped her drink.

Antonio must’ve been a local. His dark blue buttoned-down shirt, jeans, and boots were more casual than the obvious tourists with their flashing finery. And by his accent, you could guess that he was at least Latino. Colombian, most likely.

You were able to subtly dodge the question of exactly where you were from. And the two of you flirted for a few minutes while you continued to survey the people passing by, scanning the gaps between bodies.

When Antonio finally asked you to dance, you agreed. It would get you further into the club with a better excuse than walking around aimlessly. You turned to Annie.

“Catch you later?” you asked. She tossed you a wink.

“Yeah, girl. Have fun!”

You smiled and let Antonio lead you to the dance floor. You discreetly used every movement to your advantage, looking beyond your dancing partner to continue your search. If Soldier Boy was here, you would find him.

“He’s not here,” said Antonio. It actually managed to jerk you out of your focus.

“Who?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“Whoever you’re looking for that isn’t me,” he said, injecting a fair bit of charm into his voice. 

You actually felt your face warming up at that. The way he was looking at you now, there was very little doubt as to what he wanted. His grip on your hips tightened. 

Part of you was getting impatient with this part of the game, but at the very least, he was a good dancer. He pulled you effortlessly through the cumbia, Colombian salsa dancing, even if he was starting to sweat on you. 

Now, you could almost swear someone was watching. Though it might’ve been the sweat dripping down your spine, you felt that strange prickle on the back of your neck.

Well, besides Annie. You knew she was keeping an eye on you from the bar, as were Frenchie and Kimiko as they joined a poker game in the far corner, away from the dance floor.

Your gaze continued to flit through every corner of the room between spins and the movements of your feet and your hips. 

When Antonio’s hands started get a bit too familiar with the curve of your ass, you took his hands and used them to spin yourself. He brought you back in tight. A bit too tight.

“Come on, baby…” he whispered in your ear.

And you felt his hand slide up the inside of your thigh. He even had the audacity to try and slip past the lacey front of your underwear.

That’s when your patience snapped. 

You grabbed his wrist and “accidentally” drove your heel into his foot. With precision you felt it land between two vertebrae. 

The girlish yelp he made brought a flicker of a smile to your lips, but you covered it with a doe-eyed look and many bumbling apologies. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry! Are you okay?”

He all but shoved you as he limped away, cursing you in Spanish. You’d taken four years of it in high school, and you still only caught half of it.  

Hiding your smile, you walked away and pressed a discreet finger to the comm in your ear. 

“The stage front is clear. Scoping the back.”

“Wait for me,” Annie said. She was still sitting at the bar. “I think you broke that guy’s foot.”

“He had tenacity,” Frenchie remarked.

“All balls and no brains, as usual,” you muttered. “Stay there and look shiny, Annie. He’s less likely to recognize me, but he might come out to play if he spots a familiar face at the bar.”

“She’s right,” Butcher said to Annie. “Stay where you are.”    

You made your way to the bathroom and scoped the hall. There in the privacy of the shadows, you adjusted the gun holster on your thigh. It was a miracle Antonio hadn’t felt it. 

Not that a gun would do much against Soldier Boy, but you didn’t feel right without it. 

Then you kept moving and dodged various couples making out (and more) on your way upstairs.

“Going up,” you informed the team quietly. The second floor was a series of rooms, none of which you wanted to pop in on without an invitation.

After you made it to the end of the hall, you turned a corner and noticed a door hung open a crack. Sliding it open, you found a wall of music there to greet you.

And that wasn’t all.

Inside was a room of people drinking and drugging and generally doing things to one another. You didn’t want to go in, but you wouldn’t put it past Soldier Boy to get caught up in a mass orgy. 

You walked through the room, only taking in what you needed to with your eyes. 

Focusing on the far wall, you saw a leather chair by the window, with a still smoking cigar laid to rest in an ash tray on a small table. Your head tilting with interest, you went over to the table and found another hand-written note. 

Once again, you sighed. “He’s not here, guys. He bounced.”

Once you all regrouped with Hughie outside the club, you handed the note to Butcher with a grimace.

“You have a love letter,” you said. And Hughie too.

With a wry brow raise, Butcher looked down at the scrap of paper.

Butcher, you’ll die first. Then the cum-guzzler. 

S.B.

That night at the hotel, after you'd showered and peeled off that ridiculous dress, you poured over the Soldier Boy files again.

You hadn’t touched the Russia ones since that first night, but you knew you were missing far too much. In order to anticipate his moves, you needed to understand how he thought.

You couldn’t do that if you didn’t even have the full picture of who he was. And the movies, the silly music videos, even the exploded skyscraper and Homelander’s death—none of it told the full story of Ben. 

It didn’t tell you what he wanted. What he cared about. Why he was playing cat and mouse instead of just taking his stand, like his soldier persona would’ve demanded of his pride.

Or maybe that pride's just like everything else: a well-crafted costume.

A knock at your door jolted you out of your thoughts. 

You got up to your feet, briefly looking down to make sure you were decently dressed (you supposed pajama shorts, a bra, and a tank top would suffice). You grabbed your gun and checked the peephole before you answered the door with a smile.

It was M.M. with a mug of tea for you. “I knew you’d still be up, killin’ those files. It’s almost morning, you know.”

You accepted the mug with a warmer smile.  

“Aw, you do care,” you quipped. He rolled his eyes. 

You laughed a little. “Seriously, thank you.”

He pointed at you.

“Go to sleep,” he said. You raised two fingers to your temple in salute. 

“Sir. Yes, sir!” you joked. Really, you appreciated his concern. After hearing many a story about his daughter Jennine, and seeing how the rest of the team respected him, you knew that he was a good man. 

And thanks to him and Annie, you were actually starting to feel like part of this team.

After you wished him goodnight (or good morning, at this rate), you closed the door to your hotel room, followed closely by your laptop. 

You took out your phone, silently contemplating what time it would be in New York right now.

Well, it would be very early in the morning. Still, you thought it was worth a try, since you had the time.

You dialed your sister, Luisa. While it rang, you remembered just how thin these hotel walls were. So you stepped out to the rickety balcony. Jeez, hope it holds my weight throughout this call.

When your sister eventually answered, she murmured your name sleepily in confusion.

“Hey, sorry for waking you up,” you said, feeling bad. 

“It’s okay.” She yawned. “I should be up soon anyway. Got 8 am classes Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”

“Ech. Screw that shit,” you teased. 

“You’re the one sweating balls in South America.”

“I’d rather be drowning in my own sweat than listening to some old bag drone on for eight hours,” you volleyed back, and leaned against the balcony’s railing, even as it creaked suspiciously with your weight. 

“You, my friend, are uninspired. You mean to tell me mosquitoes and drug cartels are better than Mozart?” your sister asked incredulously. Her sleepy voice was starting to lose some of its gravel as you two fell into familiar bickering. 

“Wow, way to type cast. Not all of South America is about drug-running,” you pointed out. 

“Aren’t there, like, entire shows about people shoving cocaine up their ass to get from Colombia to Miami?” Luisa asked. 

“…Yes, but that’s not the point,” you said with a giggle. “And good guess. I’m actually in Medellin right now.”

“Are you supposed to tell me that?”

“Not really, no, but I don’t think you’ll sell me out to the cartels,” you joked. Or to the Russians, your mind added. That thought made your lips twist sourly. 

“Anyway, are you okay? How’s school, really?”

“It’s good, sis. You know I’m good. I’m worried about you,” she countered, and you could hear the concern in her voice.

“You know me. I’m always good,” you replied with good humor. The silence on the other line told you that you hadn’t been quite convincing enough. 

“When do you think you’ll come home?” she asked.

For what seemed like the hundredth time that night (or morning), you sighed. “That’s hard to say.”

The answering silence told you even more about your sister’s thoughts, and you felt guilty for it. 

“I’m happy just knowing you’re doing so well. With school, starting your adult life, doing your thing,” you added.  

“You need to start thinking about yourself,” she told you.

“What do you mean, Lou? I’m fine.”

It was Louisa’s turn to sigh.

“You know, I was so proud of you when you decided to leave Vought," she said. "When you finally got out from under Dad. When you started working at Supe Affairs…you seemed happy, like you were finally proud of yourself too.”

Emotion started to burn behind your eyes. Part of it was probably sleep deprivation, but you heard the sincerity in your sister’s voice.

She just knew you so well. And she wasn’t lying there—what she’d said was all true of you. However, after the joke that was Victoria Neuman running Supe Affairs, you didn’t know what you could trust anymore. 

Maybe not even your own judgment. 

“But I really wish that you’d consider more than just your work,” Luisa said. “Like a hobby. Take a painting class. Go to karaoke, like we used to do in grade school after Choir practice. You have such a beautiful voice! Like Grandma’s was.”

“I’ll leave the performing to you, Lou,” you said with a chuckle. She was serious, however.

“Work isn’t everything,” she reminded you. Now her voice was firm. “You should go out with your friends. Go out with Annie! Rub shoulders with her celebrity friends.”  

“Right.” You huffed a laugh. You’d been around plenty of famous supes while at Vought. You’d ran down the leads and tracked down the criminals, just for the supes to swoop in and “save the day.” You did the grunt work, and they claimed the credit. 

You’d had enough of “celebrities” to last you a lifetime. 

“Maybe then you’ll—and let me not shock you here—meet someone,” Louisa said. “And finally put an end to that goddamn dry spell. What's it been, like three years?” 

“All right, all right.” You held up a hand of surrender, even if she couldn’t see it. You were grateful she couldn’t catch you blushing. “That’s enough about my non-life, thanks.” 

You shook your head. Embarrassment actually clawed inside your belly. 

Yes, it had been a while since you’d actually been with anyone, relationship or otherwise. You just didn’t have time to have a life, you’d reasoned. Working at Vought had been grueling, and your hours at the S.A., while better, were still demanding.

…Still, you could appreciate that your work-life balance left much to be desired. And that was on you. 

Case in point, you were on this job.

You tipped your face heavenward, letting the sunrise spill some warmth on your face. 

“But…I hear you, okay?” you replied with your eyes closed. 

“You do?” she asked suspiciously.

“Yeah. When I get back, I…I’ll work on it, okay?” you said. “I love you.”

“Love you too, sis. I should probably get going, but…please be safe.”

“Always,” you promised.

After you hung up, you finally opened your eyes. 

That prickly feeling was back, almost like you were being watched.

You scanned around, but your human eyes didn’t find anything out of the ordinary in the sunshine pouring in between the rows of buildings. 

In fact, you didn’t see a damn thing that wasn’t supposed to be there.

So you clutched your phone to your chest, letting out a deep breath. Then you headed back inside.

But mere feet above you, if you had only looked up to the roof, you would’ve seen a hunter lazily eyeing his prey.

AN: Ok! So a little bit slow in this chapter, but it’s all important setup.

In the next chapter, the reader meets Soldier Boy:

You laid a hand on his chest, fingers spreading between the open buttons, and felt his warm skin. 

He glanced up at you with another challenging tilt to his head. What are you gonna do now?

You met that challenge, boldly leaning down to press a kiss against his lips.

Keep Reading: PART 2

Series Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @pallographsunspot @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26 @spnwoman @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @syrma-sensei @muhahaha303 @123passwort @xoxovienna @magnificentnightmarehadi @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28 @nancymcl @ashbatz @yvonneeeee @fckinel