#billy butcher x ofc

[itsstrange]

Karl Urban/Reader

Reader and Karl are friends. Like each but dont say. Live about 6 houses away from each other with her shitty ex in-between. Reader goes to ex house walks in on him cheating. (You decide what) Runs out and winds up at Karl's house. But not home at the moment. He comes home to find reader sitting on his porch.

He takes care of her. Maybe confess attraction to each other other . Fluff and smut and sweetness if all possible

**idea came from something that happen to a friend of mine . They had someone always there.

A/N: Another Request Delivered. I actually debated on writing this one because I wasn’t sure how other people would view me as. But just wanted to leave this out in the open, in case your friend is not comfortable or not happy with a story being written in regards to her past experiences and would like to be taken down I would gladly do so, not many people would want others to know what they’ve been through. So Again, feel free to lmk and I’ll right away take it down! ❤️

ANOTHER NOTE: Everything that has been written is NOT what actually happened in the real events, all of it was created by me! I did Not write anything that was related to the situation! In fact I have no idea what exactly happened, but I will again remove this story if the requester’s friend is not comfortable with it. Sincerely, ItsStrange ❤️

Treat You Better

Fandom: The Boys

Relationship: Karl Urban x Reader

Word Count: 7k

Warnings: (Yess-ish?) Toxic Relationship, Mention of Verbal Abuse, Arguments, a Little Bit of Physical Violence, Hurt Reader, Protective Karl, Confessions, Smut, Kissing, (You Know The Smut Tags)

Like in Mendes words: “I know I can Treat You Better, Better Than He Can,”

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Enjoy! 🔥

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“Need another?” Russel’s deep voice startles you from where you’re focused was on your bandaged hand, fingers gently prodding at loose strands of strings,

Your bloodshot red eyes meet his light brown orbs, concern and a hint of anger we’re hidden behind, but no words of said feeling we’re displayed at you. Even if that’s all he wanted to do, let you know how he feels of the certain situation that you are currently in, let you know you are better off, that you deserve better and should have just dumped the fucker from the beginning, but he didn’t. Because from the years that he’s known you, he knows expressing his own feelings and opinions on the subject would not help, yes maybe the you deserve better would be appropriate to let you know, but the rest of what he has banging in his throat is not appropriate. Nor is it a humane thing to say, at least not right now.

Hell, the things he wanted to do to that son of a bitch for hurting you yet again were not humane. Just from your expression alone when you came strolling in his bar let him know something had happened, but when you finally told him everything as he bandaged your bloody hand, pure rage was igniting inside of him. Especially at the condition of your hand, it hand bruises already forming, split knuckles with dried blood smeared throughout your skin. If it wasn’t from the explanation you had told him he would have thought you had just came back from a brawl.

So from what you had told him, you were just coming back from the studio, your first album after two years of taking a mental break was finally coming out which you couldn’t be more excited. Everything you’ve been through, all the losses you’ve had the last couple years, the struggles you were going through were being put into your new album, and you couldn’t wait to share it to the world, to let your fans know it’s okay to feel low because at some point you find that strength to rise up once again.

Yet, despite of your excitement about your upcoming project, there was always that dark cloud hovering in the back of your mind, reminding you of reality, of what waits at home for you. The first couple of months that you had given him a second chance were great, they were amazing, perfect even, but it was the last two months we’re everything started to fall back into old habits. The constant arguments of the smallest things, the jealousy between you two was stronger than before, the cruel words that were exchanged on a daily bases were just insane. You two were not working, again, and you weren’t happy, but for some reason you just couldn’t leave him, you couldn’t call it, you couldn’t decide if you should end it or give it more time to see if he’d fucking change some how. But he never did.

And it was tonight that proved to you he will never change.

It had been a long day at the studio. All your frustrations and stress were put into the studio, into your music that you hadn’t realize it was nearing one in the morning. Not only did you also realize you were completely drained, both physically and mentally, but you also noticed it was passed your limit to keep the room, so after saving everything, packing everything up, you bid your farewells to your team before following Tim, your bodyguard, to the suv to drive you home. You honestly didn’t want to go home, knowing what waited for you, pure disappointment and a pointless awaiting argument. Just the thought of him waiting in the entrance of your shared home, probably drunk off his ass made a headache form. You wouldn’t doubt it, he had been blowing up your phone since you left that morning in hopes to stay away from him. And Lordy did that bring ridiculous accusations from the idiot. Claiming he knew why you left the house so early on a Sunday morning just like you have been the last couple of months, which you couldn’t help let a scoff out before ignoring the rest of his stupidity messages.

You could have easily told Tim to take you to a hotel, but you honestly didn’t want to rise suspicions from him, nobody knew of your on again off again struggles with your toxic boyfriend, not even your own family, because you knew what they’d say. So, to prevent any words that you don’t want to hear you hid your toxicity relationship from them and only displayed a fake happy couple for family gatherings or public appearances. Because you honestly don’t think you’ll be able to deal with all the prying questions from people left and right. So hidden it stays.

After hours of driving in comfortable, peaceful silence, something you knew you wouldn’t have for the remainder of the night, you finally arrive at your house. Thanking Tim and relieving him for the night to catch some sleep as well, you slowly make your way towards the black wooden door. You noticed how all the lights have been turned off, which is a rare thing to see when the lowlife is home alone and drunk. It was even more rare when everything seemed quiet as soon as you stepped inside, maybe he left to drink with his moron friends, you remember thinking to yourself as you shut the door. But the silence that engulfed the entire home was soon cut short with a muffled moan coming from upstairs. You remembered the way your body froze at the sound, both at the fact that it was not a pained moan nor was it a man’s moan, no that sounded way too pitched to be a man’s moan.

The event played clearly in your head. Heart hammering in your chest, hands trembling from the rage that was quickly rising in your veins as you slowly walked up the stairs, feeling the way your hairs from your arms rise when the muffled grunts and moans sounded much clearer as you stood on the second floor. Breath picking up its pace as the rage only seems to grow when you made your way to the white door that was slightly ajar. You believe you’ll always remember the way your veins boiled with rage at the sight in front of you.

The familiar tattooed back facing your direction was clearly oblivious to your presence by the door as the asshole was too busy making the female underneath him cry out of pure pleasure. Your hands shook by your sides, slowly forming into a tight fist, however, it wasn’t until Bryan, that piece of shit had leaned his head back that caught his attention to the mirror, recognizing who you were he immediately turned to look at you but was sent falling back against the bed, crushing the girl. Pain traveled up your wrist, but you didn’t care, not with the rage blinding you, the moment he went back against the cushion you finally let your bottled up emotions on the man. Sending blow after blow, some connected with his face while others missed just passed his head.

‘Y/n stop!’ You remember him pleading to you but was cut off with another strong blow to his jaw, that literally sends him off the bed and onto the ground with a groan,

The moment he touched the wooden floor, you bolted out the room without another word. Not even when he pathetically calls after you, scrambling on his feet gathering whatever clothing he can get as he tries to reach you, but just as he steps outside the door you were already in your car driving away.

Hot tears slid down your face, both from hurt and rage, all you saw was red. The things that you wanted to do, the pain you wanted to inflict on him, your mind raced as you blindly drove down the street.

It wasn’t until you had reached a red light where you realized the one person you truly wanted to cry to was not an option right now, Bryan knew that’s where you’d run off to, so in order for that not to happen you knew you needed to be somewhere far away where he wouldn’t be able to find you.

Which leads you back here, sitting at Russel’s bar, with a possible broken hand. Your old man’s best friend, or as you like tell everyone to know, your uncle Russ, was your second choice to hide away for a couple minutes, maybe an hour or two. You honestly don’t know how long it has been but from the empty glasses of shots in front of you, you know it’s been at least passed an hour.

“Kid?”

Russel speaks out again, grabbing your attention once again. Your (E/c) eyes meet with his own, brows tightly knitted as he observes you with that familiar dad stare. Shit.. what did he ask me again? Oh right..

“Yeah.. I’ll take one for the road,”

The older man eyes you for a second, watching the way your mind wonders once again as you look down at your empty glass, but goes ahead and reaches for the Jameson bottle that you’ve adopted since you arrived at his bar.

“Where you headin?” Russel asks as he pours another pour for you, hoping you weren’t going back to that nightmare of a man,

Cradling the glass in between your hands, numbs playing with the rim of it, you think of his words. You knew where you were going, but didn’t know if it was safe to go, considering his house was only a few blocks down from your shared home with that son of bitch. Then again, it has been an hour or so since you’ve left and the constant messages you’ve received from him only shows he has no idea where you are. Thank god you never introduced him to your families bar, a decision you had made a while back after your first breakup, he knew where your mother lived, knew where your siblings lived, knew where your close friends lived, so you knew you had to have one spot to hide away from him, and Russel’s bar was the place.

Russel never took it to heart on why you never brought him over, in fact he rather not have him anywhere near his bar, he never did like him from the start, which you never took it personal because you couldn’t blame him. Jesus.. you knew why Russel never accepted him and yet you still decided to be with that piece of shit, and for what? You don’t even know why and that alone brings a soft snort from you, catching the bar owners attention.

“You should wait up, let the Jameson cool down,” Russel claims, picking up the shots in front of you and placing them in the basket to wash later,

Your eyes lift from your now empty glass, which… you apparently had drank, and look at the man who takes the glass from your hands before replacing it with a large glass of water.

“Drink and sober up,” He demands, knowing you weren’t exactly on the right mental state to be driving with alcohol in your system,

Even if he knew you were able to hold your alcohol pretty well, he still didn’t want to risk your life, neither one of your family members would ever forgive him if he’d ever let anything happen to you under his watch.

After chugging the large glass of water, eating some salted cashews and watching a rerun of some football game for a good 30 minutes or so, you begin to climb off your stool. Just as you reach in your pocket for some change you feel a cashew hitting you directly on your forehead causing you to flinch.

“That better be you fishing out your car keys and not money,” He points at you with a long finger,

“Russ-,” You try but was cut off,

“Don’t Russ me. Go. Go to your mom’s and rest up kiddo, and when mornin comes, you better give her the whole story so she can personally kick his ass,” You roll your eyes with a short chuckle as you steal another cashew from the bowl to throw it at him,

“Alright, G’night Uncle Russ,”

“Night kiddo, get there safely,” He pleads as he walks around the bar to give you a tight hug before walking you out the building,

You wave at him before making your way to your car, where you sit in the drivers side for five minutes, debating whether you should just drive to mothers home instead of his, it was pretty late nearing three in the morning, but if you were being completely honest you didn’t need anyone else other than him right now. It was him you needed, his soothing words, his warmth, his comfort, him.

You just hoped he wouldn’t be too upset with you for dragging your problems to him so late at night.

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As you rounded the familiar street, you turned off your headlights just in case Bryan was still awake, despite him staying six houses down, knowing him he’d still know it’d be you pulling into the street. So after turning the lights off, you pull into his driveway where you notice his 2018 black Hellcat sitting there, indicating he’s either home or he took the Mustang for the night. Your thoughts are answered when you went to knock on his door only to receive no answer after the fifth knock.

So with an exhausted sigh, you go ahead and sit on his front steps. At this point you should have just went to your mothers house, at least there you had keys where you can easily walk in instead of waiting on the front steps like a loser. Which speaking of, the longer you sat on the steps and each yawn that escaped from you only pulled on your exhaustion even more. Making you realize just how tired you were, both physically and mentally, all you wanted was sleep. Sleep until the night vanished, until you weren’t in this moment, sleep until you wake up feeling happy for yourself again instead of feeling such pain and frustration. It’s all you wanted at the moment.

However, before you can actually allow yourself to fall asleep on his steps like a total loser, you hear the familiar roar of an engine driving down the street, then bright headlights blinding you for a second before coming to a stop right next to your rs7. Lowering your head down to rub away the spots from your vision, you hear the engine shutting off right before hearing the drivers door opening and closing.

Than that beautiful deep rich accent filling your ears.

“(Y/n)?” He calls out your name, causing you to look up at him, a small smile tugging on your lip as you bring down your face again, slightly avoiding his gaze for now,

“Where are the boys?” You ask, starting small talk as you pick on dead skin on your thumb,

“With their mum. Just came back from the pub,” He responds as he slowly walks closer towards you, what you didn’t see was the way his brows were tightly knitted together as he observed your hunched frame on his steps,

They only knit tighter and his worry only grew when you respond with a small nod, along with a whispered ‘nice’ as you continue to look down at your lap, avoiding him. However, just as he’s within reach he notices the dried tear stains on your cheeks, but what really makes his blood boil was the way your right hand was bandaged up, starting from your wrist to your knuckles. Clenching his jaw, he crouches in front of you, getting a slightly better view of your face. Although, as you continued to avoid his gaze, he softly places a finger underneath your chin before gently lifting your face, where your red eyes finally meet with angry hazel orbs.

“Where is he?” Is all he says, hazel eyes never parting from yours,

Dropping your gaze from his, you slowly shake your head as best you can in his grip, “I don’t know,”

Of course you’d lie. And of course he knew because without another word he grips his keys in his hand before rising and darting back towards his driveway.

“Karl stop,” You call out to him, slowly walking after him,

“Gonna kill that cunt,” You hear him snarl over his shoulder, but before he can reach his lawn your small hand wrapping around his forearm stops him from going further,

“Stop,” You tell him, hand still holding onto his arm with a loose grip,

“That fuckin’ cunt crossed it,” He claims, voice laced with sharp venom, hazel eyes shining with rage instead of his warm, welcoming orbs,

“I know. But he’s not worth getting in trouble for,” Your own eyes held a firm look as you gazed up at his angered orbs, then, with an exhausted sigh you close your eyes, “Can we just..,” Another sigh, “Can we please just go inside,”

Karl’s anger and frown slowly fades away as he reads the exhaustion on your face. Just how long were you sitting out here for? Why didn’t you give him a call? He asks himself, but rather than prying you with such questions he simply nods at you before letting you lead him up the stairs. After fishing out his keys, opening the door he lets you walk in first before following right behind. Once shutting and locking the door, he makes his way to the living room, where you quietly stood by the entrance. Just lost in thought or possibly replaying the nights event.

“Here, sit down,” He offers, gently walking you to the couch, “I’ll make coffee,”

You let out a soft chuckle as you sit down, eyes looking up at him, “It’s nearly four in the morning Karl,”

It was then you realized his form and outfit of the night. Hair slightly tousled, grey t-shirt, green leather jacket on top, faded jeans with some brown boots on his feet. He looked absolutely handsome, just like any other day.

A small smile tugs on his lips at the realization, “Tea then,” and with that he makes his way towards the kitchen,

Leaving you alone with your thoughts. You sat there, fingers playing with dead skin on your thumbs while your mind drifts once again, thinking about it, about him, about how much time you’ve wasted on him. How much energy you’ve physically and mentally drained from yourself by simply being with him. Then realizing just how stupid you were for even considering on giving that piece of shit another chance, realizing just how much of a fucking joke you made yourself look. You sat there blaming yourself for all the shit you decided to go through, for having faith that he would change, for believing he’d actually love you and care for you.

But now look at you. Back to square one. You wouldn’t have been in this situation again if you hadn’t given him another chance. You wouldn’t be feeling like a fucking joke if you hadn’t given him the okay a few months ago, nor would you be sitting in Karl’s couch with dried tears and smeared makeup if you’d just told him no.

‘No you can’t come back, no this wouldn’t work, no we just aren’t meant for each other, no you are a fucking waste of time.’ If only those were the words you had told him, you wouldn’t be in this situation. Again.

After about four to five minutes of brewing the tea, pouring a good amount into two mugs, and putting one spoon of honey into your navy mug (which of course he knows it’s the only way you’ll drink tea). He finally makes his way back to the living room, where he finds you sitting with your feet up on the couch, arms hugging your legs towards your chest, with your cheek resting on your knees. However, the sound of your soft sniffles has him reaching the couch in two long strides. Placing both mugs on the coffee table he settles right next to you before hugging your hunched frame, which you immediately hide your face in the crook of his neck.

The tears that rapidly slid down your cheeks weren’t from heartbreak, it was from anger, embarrassment, shame, and disappointment. Not from him, but from yourself. You were angry at the fact that he cheated on you again, angry at that fact that you trusted him again, angry at the fact that you were so stupid in giving him another chance. Embarrassed at the fact that he made you look like a fool again, embarrassed that the whole world will once again know he cheated on you, embarrassed that you are going through this shit again. Every emotion flowed through you, consumed you that all you can do is just let it out through rapid tears. Your hands gripping tightly onto Karl’s shirt as you try burying your face deeper into his neck, as if that’ll shield you from the total embarrassment that you are facing at the moment.

“I’m so fucking.. stupid!” You sob against his skin, hands clutching tighter onto his shirt,

Karl is quick to shush you with a shake of his head. Tightening his hold on you as he lets one hand sooth your back, awhile slightly rocking you both on the couch.

“Shh.. no you’re not,” He mumbles on the crown of your head,

“I n-never should’ve..-,” The words get stuck in your throat as another angered sob leaves your lips, “God.. I should’ve fucking known!”

“Shh,” He continues to soothe you, body slightly rocking you, hugging you tighter and closer towards his chest, “Just let it out love. Everything you feel right now, just let it out. I’m right ‘ere,”

And you do. You let the hot, angry tears slip down your cheeks, let the bottled up emotions fall past your lips, your broken, frustrated, angered sobs filling the quietness of his living room.

It wasn’t long when the tears had stopped falling down your cheeks, when you’ve calmed down and simply just laid your head on his chest as he laid back against the cushion. Hand cradling and gently massaging your head, soothing you and comforting you. Yet, his fingers come to a halt at your sudden words.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper, fingers playing with his grey shirt, feeling guilty for burdening him with your situation, “M’sorry for.. bringing my shit to you,”

His brows knit together as he glances down at your head, “Don’t be,”

“I am,” You argue back, voice slightly quivering and breaking due to the crying session not that long ago, “If it didn’t happen, I wouldn’t be here. Bothering you.”

Karl stood quiet, weighing his words that he wants to tell you. That he’s been wanting to tell you, ever since your first breakup, he wanted to let you know but was never given the chance. Then before he knew it, it was too late, he had lost the opportunity to let you know but now, now he won’t let it slip. He was scared before, fearing it would ruin things between you two, he’d lose you for what he reveal to you and he couldn’t have that. He still doesn’t want that, but you have to know. No matter what happens, he just has to let you know.

“You’re right,” You hear him say, feeling the way your heart slightly shatters at his agreement, but before you can even begin to pull away from his hold his voice stops you from doing so, “You shouldn’t be going through this. You shouldn’t be runnin’ from home, shouldn’t be crying at my steps at the three in the mornin’… fuckin hell (Y/n)..,”

He curses with a frustrated wince as he slightly forces you to sit, forcing you to stare into his eyes as he continues, “You deserve more. You deserve the whole fuckin world, every happiness there is. You deserve to be treated like you should be treated. A goddamn queen,” His hazel orbs bore into yours, not once parting, not even with his next words,

He hesitates for a second, but pushing the fear down he finally says, “Any guy would be lucky to have you.. and believe me when I tell you… I’ll do anything to see you smile. I’d give everything to bring you nothing but happiness and love. I’ll Treat You Better. Because that’s what you deserve,”

You stare at him in shock, tears slowly building as you take in his words. Never in a million years did you think this man, your closest friend, a talented well-known actor who gets to travel the world for his work, gets to meet and have dinners with other well known actors and actresses—who by the way are some of your all time favorite people— would ever make such a deep confrontation to you. Who would share the same feelings you have been desperately trying to stow away for multiple reasons, fearing if you ever gave into said feelings you’d lose him forever, so you went ahead and kept those feelings to yourself and try to distract yourself by putting so much effort in trying to fix a relationship that just wasn’t meant to be mixed nor was it meant for you.

As tears slowly slide down your cheeks, you feel a warm hand resting on the side of your cheek, then a soft thumb gently brushing away a tear. Hazel eyes locking with your own, not once parting away.

“Let me love you like you deserve to be loved,” He whispers, thumb still wiping away fresh tears,

No words were said, just a simple nod from you was all he needed to finally let his lips latch onto yours. The kiss was soft but firm as you both poured your hidden emotions into it. Fresh new tears slid down your cheeks as you kissed him, relief is what they were. Relieved that you finally gave in to those feelings, relieved that he too shared those feelings and that alone caused the tears to come out as you cherished his warm lips.

The kiss soon picked up its pace when he gently prods your bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, which you gladly accepted. The moment his tongue sweeps with your own, it has you melting against him like no other, has you forgetting about everything around you, forgetting about that asshole, the pain on your hand, everything. All your focus was on him and only him. The way his mouth collides perfectly with your own, the way his hands gently run along your hips, legs, towards your lower back before maneuvering you onto his lap.

“This okay?” He asks in between kisses, hands respectfully waiting on your hips,

“Yes, please,” You find yourself begging him, but he doesn’t tease you about it, nor does he laugh at your neediness because hell, he too was desperate for you,

Without another word he dives back to your lips, letting them collide much rougher and firmer. Letting your tongues battle with each other before allowing him to take control. A moan and a groan can be heard between you two when you slightly rock your hips on his lap, making you feel just how much he wants you at the moment. Yet, it was another firm rock of your hips that has him rising from the couch, strong arms holding you against him as he makes his way towards his bedroom. Once there he quickly walks towards his bed where he gently lays your frame against the cushion. He hovers over you, lips still connected with each other as he teases back with a thrust of his own hips, causing a small gasp to leave your lips when you feel the way his hardened member presses against your covered core.

He didn’t tease for long considering he’s waited for this very moment for as long as he can remember. Not wasting another second he slowly begins rising your shirt up your body and off your frame, tossing it to the side of the bed he lets his warm lips press feathery kisses along your skin, causing goosebumps to travel throughout your body with every kiss he placed on new piece of skin. You then feel the way his hand slips beneath you before feeling your bra loosen around your chest, then feeling the way he slowly removes it from you. Large hands cover your breast, emitting a low moan when he grips and massages them before allowing his mouth to wrap around one of your already hardened buds. A gasp once again escapes from you at the sensitive feeling.

Yet it soon fades when he averts his mouth from your breast to your lips, pecking them once, twice before letting you remove his own grey shirt from his frame. Your hands land gently against his toned chest, then letting them travel down his torso, watching the way his toned stomach flexes at your nails ghostly scraping against his skin. Your fingers land on his belt where they begin to undo it from its place. Once unbuckled, button and fly open, your eyes are locked on his when you slowly reach inside his pants, watching the way his lips turn to a firm line as a deep heavy sigh slips through his nose at your touch. Feeling the way his harden member slightly twitches when your rubs become firmer.

However, what emitted a broken grunt from the man hovering above you was when you let your fingers slip past his dark briefs to grip onto his thick heated shaft. A shuddered sigh escapes past his lips at the first tug you make, hazel eyes slightly disappearing behind those eyelids as he tries to keep his gaze on you with every stroke you give him. After the fourth tug he bends down to plant a kiss on your lips before pulling away from you to let his own hands undo your jeans. Once your shoes had been removed, your jeans were next, following your navy underwear, leaving you completely bare to him. You hear the way he sucks in a deep breath through his nose as he observes your naked frame, hands gently rubbing up and down your beautiful thighs.

“Ātaahua,” Karl whispers huskily under his breath, hazel eyes scanning your naked frame before locking them with your own,

Heat rises up your cheeks at the familiar word, yet before you can even decided on hiding from him he quickly bends down to peck your lips before rising once again to remove the remainder of his clothing. Now that his jeans and briefs were off him, leaving him bare to you, your eyes grow wide as you scan the rest of him.

Yeah you felt him a few seconds ago, knew he was thick from touch alone, but now, seeing it up close and personal you didn’t think he’d be that thick and.. big.

His member stood proudly in between his legs, pre-cum leaking beautifully and deliciously from his cherry tip. Veins visible underneath his shaft, looking like a fucking master piece and definitely causing your mouth to go dry from the sight alone.

“See something you like love?” He

responds above you, voice lower than usual, smirk proud on his lips as he stares down at you,

Speechless is what you we’re. No words were able to form nor spill out your mouth, so instead you glance up to meet his eyes, which were laced with lust as he towered over you. Even under the moon light shining brightly through his window, you can see just how much he craved you.

His smirk slowly fades away as he begins lowering himself where he latches his lips on yours once again. A soft moan vibrating through your lips as you feel the tip of his cock rubbing beautifully against your core, then a loud gasp filling the air between you two at the sudden feeling of firm fingers rubbing circles against that bundle of nerves. Causing your back to slightly rise off the bed with parted lips, which Karl immediately dives his warm tongue into your mouth, freely exploring your warmth.

“You are perfect,” He whispers against your lips, fingers still moving between your legs, collecting your wetness and spreading it along your mound before letting two fingers push past your folds,

Earning yet again another gasp and a moan from you. The feeling of his fingers slowly dragging in and out of your heated core has your eyes closing shut, breath picking its pace and grip on his shoulders tightening with every thrust of his hand. The moment he adds his thumb into the mix, it’s like a hurricane begins building at the pit of your stomach, your breath hitches in your throat when he speeds up his movements, your nails dig into his skin when the coil nears its end.

Once snapped, he didn’t even hesitate in pushing his aching member inside of you, nor did he warn you as he begins moving his hips into you. The feeling of his thickness stretching your walls with each pull he’d make only electrified your orgasm, nearly knocking the air from your lungs from how strong it had hit you.

“Fuck,” Karl groans at the sight of you; eyes tightly shut, mouth wide open with breathless moans slipping past those raw lips of yours, completely melting under his hold,

Something he hoped to see one day. And here you are, all for him and only him.

Once he had eased up with the slow thrust of his hips, letting you calm down and catch a breather for a few seconds, you signal him to keep going with a small nod which he complies with a much firmer thrust, earning a breathless gasp from you again.

“Aroha ahau ki a koe,” You hear him whisper breathlessly in your ear over and over with each thrust he sends you,

Causing the same tears of joy, relief, and love to slip down your cheeks from the amount of emotions your were feeling at the moment. The feeling of your second orgasm approaching quicker than you thought, the way those words repeated in your ear every so often, reminding you and showing you just how much he meant his feelings towards you. Showed you just how much he’s longed for you, with everything combining into one the emotions become too much that you couldn’t help the tears to slip out.

One hand gripping onto the back of his dark locks, you gently but firmly tug on his hair, just enough to slot your lips with his. Allowing them to mold into one once again. Breathless pants were shared between you too as you both neared your peak, which didn’t take long. With one slight maneuver from Karl, the new position gave him the opportunity to plumage his member deliciously against that spot, causing you to once again melt under his hold. Nails digging painfully but beautifully against his skin, leaving red marks along his broad back as he continues with his thrusts.

“Aroha ana ahau ki a koe,” Was all you needed to whisper back for Karl to reach the end of the line,

With a loud, choked groan, he slams his hips into you one last time before feeling his own orgasm overpowering him. Sending him in a blissful state. Strong arms shook before him as they prevented him from crushing you, breath coming out in quick choked puffs through his nose as he rode it off, grunts rumbling in his throat every so often until he’s calm down.

Slowly and gently, he guides himself out of you, earning a faint whimper to vibrate in your throat at the empty feeling then a chilled feeling to rush through your entire body when you feel the way his seed drips down your raw core.

After a second or two of gathering your breath and coming down from your high, you open your eyes only to see his own closed shut. Hands still plastered on the bed on either side of your head to keep him upright you watch him as he takes in deep steady breaths through his nose before exhaling. A short smile tugs on your lips as you watch him, observing the way his hair slightly falls down his face, sweat glistening beautifully against his skin, making him look absolute stunning. Even under the dim light.

With no words, you let your left hand reach up, letting your fingers run through his dark beard until they reach his slightly damped locks. The gentle massages that your fingers apply against his scalp has those hazel eyes of his to finally be on display. They held sweet love in them the longer they lingered on yours, then watch as a small smile tugs at the corner of his lip before letting one hand cradle your cheek, thumb gently rubbing against your skin.

Still smiling down at you with hazel orbs locked with your own he whispers, “Toku ao,”

Your brows slightly furrow at the unknown word, but a smile still tugged on the corner of your lips, “I don’t know that one,”

A faint chuckle fans your face. Hazel eyes not once leaving yours as he speaks once again, which not only widens your smile but also has your heart erupting from pure warmth and happiness with his next words.

“You’re my world,” Those beautiful hazel eyes of his that crinkle at the sides stare at you with so much love and light,

Bending down he closes the gap between you two, placing two long pecks on your lips before maneuvering himself to lay on his side where you are quick to cuddle right next to him. Your head on his chest, arm across his abdomen with one leg draped over his. You both stood awake for another ten minutes or so just talking about anything and everything, from sharing when exactly you both had realized one’s feelings to how was work to random topics really before finally falling asleep.

The way Karl would gently draw invisible shapes on your shoulder blades had you drifting away in matter of seconds, and the way your steady breathing would invade his ears Karl followed soon after. Leaving you both in a peaceful sleep while still holding onto each other.

Not once letting go, even when you both had moved during your sleep, neither one had slipped up. Karl knew this because around somewhere in the afternoon, his eyelids slowly open, the back of your head being his view. Hair surprisingly looking nicely combed and beautiful even through the night it had been through.

The thought of going back to sleep to get some more rest laid heavily behind his eyelids, but just as sleep would overtake him again the sound of banging on the door has him lifting his head from the pillows. Brows tightly furrowed as he wondered who can possibly be knocking at his door. Another rough bang against his door has him averting his eyes to your still sleeping frame, completely unaware of the intruding noise, showing him just how exhausted you must’ve been.

So with slow and careful moments he’s untangling himself from your hold before slowly climbing out of bed. Grabbing his briefs from the floor and slipping on some black sweats he quietly makes his way towards the door, where someone was determined in knocking down his door with those brutal knocks.

The moment he swings the door open and realizes who’s behind it, his face instantly changes from annoyance to anger. Standing outside his home with a dark grimace on their face was your ex. From what Karl can tell he hadn’t slept all night.

“Where is she?” He demands, hands quickly forming into fists at his sides,

“The fuckin’ nerve you’ve got comin’ here,” Karl snarls back, one hand gripping onto the door handle as the rage slowly boils in his veins,

“Where is she Urban?” The man tries again, taking a step forward as if to intimidate him, but what he didn’t know was with each step he took was only getting him closer to his own grave,

Karl scoffs, removing his hand from the doorknob to face him directly, “Not at your house that’s for sure,”

It was at that moment he’d realized where exactly you’d be. After taking in his appearance; no shirt, just sweats, hair completely a mess, all signs were clearly visible.

“You piece of shit,” He goes again taking another step but Karl took one step forward, stopping him in his tracks as he over towers him,

Hazel eyes looking directly at those slightly frightened blues of his.

“You never deserved her mate,” Karl claims, eyes turning firmer as he continues with, “Now how ‘bout you leg it, before I make you swallow your own fuckin’ teeth,”

The threat made a cold shiver run down Bryan’s back. He still displayed a firm look, hands balled into fists at his sides, but both men knew it was all a cover. Bryan truly didn’t know Karl and but he knew at that moment, this man would risk his entire career for you. Which not only frightened him but also worried him on the lengths he was willing to go for you.

So, with a weak attempt of displaying a tough look, he holds his glare until he turns around to walk away from the man’s front lawn. Karl watches him walk back to his car then watches him burn rubber like total asshole before finally walking back inside, realizing just how much rage was riding in his veins. His hands shook from the amount of anger he had and from the tight grip he kept to prevent him from lashing out, but with a deep inhale though his nose he makes his way back to his room.

Where you remained asleep.

Slowly and carefully to not wake you up, he climbs back into bed. The moment he settles on his side, you turn in your sleep, facing him directly, his grey sheets slightly slipping off your shoulder, revealing that beautiful skin of yours, revealing your gorgeous face.

Just by looking at you did it subside the anger he had. The effect that you had on him. It was also at that moment he realized just how madly in love he was with you, how he’ll do anything for you, protect you, love you, give you anything and everything in the world just to have that beautiful smile of yours on your face at all times. He promised himself and you, that last night will be the last night you cry in front of him, it will be the last time someone hurts you, he promised you he’ll always be there, your very own shinning armor protecting and guarding you till his very last breath.

He knew he wanted you in his life for the rest of his life, but he didn’t know he meant it the other way until the words softly slipped from his mouth, a part of him freaked at the sudden realization, but the more he thought about it the more he realizes just how truthful and right the words felt in his chest. He repeated it again in his head then as he brought his warm hazel eyes to your sleeping form, he lets them fall again as a promise.

“Ka marena ahau ki a koe,”

I’m going to marry you.

—————

-Went overboard with this one so… hope y’all liked it!

-Also if it feels rushed towards the end I sincerely apologize I was desperate to just finish this one and give it to y’all already.

-Another thing, I definitely do not speak Māori. So if anyone speaks it out there I deeply apologize if it’s not the right wording 😬😬

- Another, @butchers-girl hope it came out the way you requested, Ik you were constantly asking me how it was going and I appreciated it and I’m sorry I had you waiting this long but.. was definitely taking my time with this one to make it better. So again. Hope you liked this one and can’t wait to publish the rest of your requests! 🫶❤️❤️

- Lastly, MERRY CHRISTMAS PEEPS. LOVE EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU. ✨❤️

-Turn On Post Notifications!! 🔔 For More Updates!!

————

Word Bank:

Ātaahua: Beautiful.

Aroha ahau ki a koe: I love you.

Aroha ana ahau ki a koe: I love you too.

Toku ao: My World.

Ka marena ahau ki a koe: I’m going to marry you.

[zepskies]

And So It Goes - Part 18

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

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

Word Count: 5,600

Tags/Warnings: Love triangle, tension, more of Ben’s asshole behavior, angst, hurt/comfort, implied smut

ASIG Series Masterlist

18: Being Human

Maybe I really do have a death wish, Helena thought, as she let the most wanted supe alive into her home.

Butcher and Hughie joined him, with the latter taking in her two-story house for the first time.

“Nice,” Hughie said with a nod. “This place is beautiful.”

Helena gave him a small smile. “Thank you.”

Though she gave Ben a pointed look. “Try not to break it, please.”

He shot her a raised brow, but didn’t comment. Instead, he watched her turn and show them one of the guest bedrooms on the first floor. Meanwhile, his gaze lingered on the curve of her ass in those jeans.

Butcher caught the supe’s lazy perusal with a sharp eye. Ben felt his stare and had the gall to shoot him a wink with his smile. Ben’s steps had a certain swagger as he followed Helena down the hall.

It succeeded in setting Butcher even more on edge.

Hughie glanced over at his friend with concern; he’d seen the exchange between the men and didn’t like the fact that Helena was caught in the middle. More and more, he was starting to question just what the hell they were doing.

“Are you sure about this?” Hughie asked.

Butcher didn’t even look at him. His ears were perked to the conversation Soldier Boy and Helena were having down the hall, about fresh bedsheets, of all things.

“There’s no turning back now,” Butcher said.

Hughie frowned. “I know, but…”

Butcher ignored him in favor of starting down the hall to follow Helena and the unstable supe he’d brought into her home.

After everyone had showered and changed and devoured a few pizzas Helena had ordered, Ben puttered through her living room, rummaging through her things. He opened drawers and surveyed her various picture frames, like he was actually interested in her life or something.

“Got any reefer?” he asked.

Helena rolled her eyes. There goes that theory.

Not that she wanted his interest.

“Fresh out,” she said wryly.

She watched him from her corner of the sofa while Hughie graciously did the dishes. Butcher was sitting at the breakfast nook with a cup of tea.

Helena knew he was monitoring the supe out of the corner of his eye, but she was now very careful in what she left on the TV. She didn’t think Dumb and Dumber should have anything triggering.

She eyed him more sharply when Ben started thumbing through her record collection.

“Hey, easy with my vinyl, please,” she said. “It’s vintage.”

He raised up one of your favorites: I Wanna Dance with Somebody.

“Sweetheart, I’m vintage. I think Whitney Houstonis safe with me,” he quipped wryly.

She rolled her eyes at him, but she had to fight a laugh. 

“I knew her, by the way,” he mentioned. 

Helena’s interest was piqued, with a tilt of her head. “Did you?”

“Yeah. Her and Bobby knew how the fuck to get down. That’s for damn sure.”

“Oh my God,” Helena giggled.

Butcher couldn’t fucking believe what was happening in front of him.

Well, technically, behind him. He was facing the kitchen, and it gave Hughie the vantage point to see Butcher’s irritation.

Helena was more amused than disgusted by the man’s ridiculous flirting. He was an old, old man in that 40s-ish, practically indestructible body. He was like a man out of time, complete with outdated sexism and hyper-machismo. His attempts were often so obvious, it was funny.

But, she also felt guilty for being able to laugh and be pleasant, when this was a man who had killed, and not just during his PTSD-fueled episodes over the past few days. This was the man who murdered M.M.’s grandfather.

The problem was, she had long ago become desensitized to asshole supes. And she couldn’t help her gut instinct…that there was more to Ben than met the eye.

Helena called it a night an hour or so later, when her eyes were starting to droop. She’d slept for a couple of hours in the car, but there was nothing like being back in her safe space, in fresh clothes, and soon to be in her own bed.

A knock at her bedroom door had her frowning in confusion. She put on a robe over her pajamas and opened the door. Her brows raised at finding Butcher there.

“Hey,” he said. His voice was deep and tired, full of gravel. He tried to slip past her inside the room, but she grabbed the doorjamb, blocking his way. She gave him a flat look.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked. He gestured to the bed with raised brows.

“To sleep. I’m fucking knackered, love.”

Helena’s lips formed a thin smile.

“There’s a guest bedroom down the hall,” she said. For a moment, they just stared at one another, as one refused to leave, and the other refused to bend.

“Hel,” Butcher tried.

“You ended this,” she said, pushing him back with a hand in the center of his chest.

“Technically, that was you,” he returned. He backed up a step, but wouldn’t let her move him much farther. 

This time, her lips pursed and her expression tightened.

“You know what you said, Billy,” she said. “And you know what you did. You still don’t even have the decency to apologize.”

She stepped closer into his orbit, until her breasts barely brushed against his chest. He could feel the warmth of her skin under the thin cotton of her shirt, could see that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She leaned up on her toes and almost brushed her lips against his. She smelled minty fresh, along with the jasmine shampoo she often used.

“You…don’t get any part of this,” she said. “And you certainly don’t get to make some kind of claim on me just because you’re jealous.”

Helena pulled away. Butcher didn’t know what was more infuriating: not being able to touch her, or the deadly accuracy of her words.

“Jealous?” he said incredulously. “Of fucking what, might I ask?”

Instead of answering him, she smiled and closed her door in his face.

Butcher was left in the hall, teeth gritted and fists clenched. What the bloody hell just happened?

When he couldn’t stand the silence any longer, he trudged down the hall and into the second bedroom, where Hughie was already slipping into the queen-sized bed. Butcher yanked him out of bed, despite the younger man’s yelp and protest.

“Hey!”

“There’s a couch nice and comfy there for ya,” Butcher said, gesturing at the nearby sofa. It was little more than a loveseat. If Hughie was lucky, it would only be his legs hanging off the side.

He frowned. “Come on, man.”

Butcher shrugged off his jacket and boots, tossing them on a nearby accent chair.

“You can try your luck bunking with Soldier Boy downstairs, but that might be ill-advised,” he retorted.

And he got into bed, turning out the bedside lamp as he went.

Helena slept for maybe a couple of hours before her eyes opened in the dark, her heart racing. She groaned and covered her face with a hand.

She still saw flashes of manic blue eyes in her mind, a hand wrapped around her throat. She felt throbbing pain radiating from the side of her head and half her ribcage.

It forced her out of bed in search of her medication, which Butcher had somehow gotten for her without a prescription. She chose to ignore that fact, and she grabbed her pill bottle, put on her favorite robe over her pajamas, and ventured downstairs for a glass of water.

When she turned on the kitchen light, her bleary eyes made out a shape sitting at the breakfast nook.

She jumped halfway out of her skin, until she realized that it was just Ben, sitting there with two cartons of Mint Milano cookies and three empty beers from her fridge. He raised his brows at her.

“Evening, sweetheart,” he said, smirking when he eyed her fuzzy purple robe. “Cute.”

“Down, boy,” she warned. She laid a quivering hand on her chest and caught her breath. “You scared the shit out of me.”

She retrieved the jug of water from the fridge and asked him if he wanted some. He shook his head, leaving her to consider him as she poured herself a glass of water. She saw the familiar threads of self-medicating with the empty beer bottles.

“I can make you some tea,” she offered.

Ben frowned. “Piss water, you mean? I’ll pass.”

Helena rolled her eyes. She got out the chamomile anyway and started up the kettle. It was an electric brewer, so the water would be hot within minutes.

“It could help you sleep better,” she pointed out. She felt his hot gaze on her back as she went about her business in the kitchen. She set up two mugs and took out the bottle of honey.

“One of two things helps me sleep,” said Ben. “Good drugs or a good fuck.”

Helena paused. Her hand clenched on the honey bottle on reflex, and made a large spurt squeeze out in one of the mugs. She eyed him tartly over her shoulder.

“You’ll find neither in this house,” she said. Her tone was pointed. His sly gaze said he wasn’t too sure about that.

“What’s keeping you up?” she asked, and she put a cup of tea in front of him with honey already stirred in. He gave her a flat look.

“I don’t drink that shit,” he said. She smiled.

“But I made it especially for you,” she replied, saccharine sweet. “I thought guys like you were supposed to be chivalrous.”

Ben just stared at her, hard.

She stared at him right back and raised her brows.

“Just try it,” she cajoled. “You might like it.”

He still didn’t look convinced, but after a moment, he slowly reached out and took the handle of the mug. He brought it to his lips and took a reluctant sip.

He grimaced. It was everything he thought it would be: weak in flavor, but warm and a hint sweet.

Helena smiled in satisfaction, and he fought one of amusement, even as he considered how sweet she might be to taste.

She went to get her own mug and her bottle of pain meds. While her back was turned, Ben poured most of the tea into the sink.

“Why’re you in my kitchen, eating all my cookies?” she asked, glancing back at him over her shoulder while holding up one of the empty boxes of Milanos. “These are my favorites.”

Ben’s gaze roamed down the length of her fuzzy robe. It hinted at curves he’d already seen and taken note of. She was the hottest young thing he’d seen in…well, a while. Still, he’d be willing to eat up Miss Chiquita Banana and leave no crumbs.

“I’ve slept long enough,” he said. She turned back around, and he tried to disguise his hunger (for now). 

Helena glanced up at him wryly. “Hmm. You’re allowed to say you can’t sleep.”

Ben didn’t answer, but he watched her struggle to open her pill bottle. She twisted and twisted the cap, applying pressure, but it refused to budge.

“Damn it. What, did they reinforce this with, titanium?” she muttered.

The pill bottle eventually broke free, raining little white pills onto the counter. A few of them rolled off to the floor.

Her shoulders deflated. “Of fucking course.”

With a sigh, she slowly bent down and gathered up the pills that fell. She grabbed onto the counter, but the sharpening pain in her ribs wouldn’t let her straighten up, let alone get back onto her feet. She looked up at Ben in annoyance. He was just sitting there, watching her in bemusement.

“Coño pero… Are you gonna help me, Mr. Chivalry?” she snarked. “Best generation, indeed.”

Ben raised a brow at her. “I might, if you ask a little fucking nicer.”

Helena gaped at him. What a dick.

But she expected nothing less, really. She let out a tense breath through her nose and through much effort, she angled a less pissed off face at him.

“Will you please give me hand off the damn floor?” she asked.

A smirk crossed his lips. He actually obliged her, sliding off his seat and coming her way around the kitchen counter. He bent down and helped her up with a hand on her lower back and her elbow. He didn’t back away from her until her feet were steady on the ground, and she nodded in thanks. He took a few pills out of her hand as payment, popping them into his mouth like Tic Tacs.

Helena sighed in annoyance. Unlike him, she actually needed those.

“Why’re you up, anyway?” Ben asked.

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

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

“Knew what?” he asked.

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

She knew it was partly her own fault. She chose to follow Butcher, to keep making reckless decisions. But at least now she wouldn’t have to spend every damn second of every day looking over her shoulder. She could just turn around and accept whatever happened next.

Helena could admit it though. She was afraid.

“What’s it like, not being afraid?” she asked Ben, with a small sarcastic huff. His brow arched.

“When you’ve routinely pounded Nazis up the ass, nothing much bothers you after that,” he said, sipping at his mug of tea. Though he soon grimaced again at the taste and pushed the offending drink away.

Deep inside, however, he refused to acknowledge the darker chasms. Stolen years that were now blurred together in memory, and yet, certain moments rang painfully clear. His eyes were unseeing for a moment, before they glanced back up at Helena.

He nearly missed the way she chuckled.

“That shit isn’t fooling for a second,” she said. “I saw you lose your grip, Ben.”

His gaze sharpened. His fist clenched on the counter.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he warned.

Her eyes narrowed. “Let me ask you a question. Do you really not remember M.M.’s family? Or was that routine for you too?”

He paused, his brows crunched in irritation.

“I don’t have to fucking justify myself to you. I was doing my fucking job. Sometimes—”

“What, shit happens?” She threw her hands up mockingly. “God, you’re just like Homelander. Like almost every supe I’ve ever met.”

He rolled his eyes, dismissive, but his anger was prickling just under the surface of his stoic front.

And on the off chance that it was a mask for any spark of shame he felt deep down, Helena was at least a little satisfied. For 100-something years of machismo and supe arrogance, that spark would’ve been well-won. 

“Regret is human, Ben,” she said. “So is fear. And pain. And love.”

His face remained stoic. “I’m a lot fucking more than human.”

She huffed at that. “If you say so.”

She shook her head and delved back into her pantry. As a peace offering, she broke out her secret backup stash of cookies, that she doubted even Butcher knew about. They were raspberry and milk chocolate Milanos. She subtly shook the box at Ben with a smile.

He tilted his head. “I don’t remember that flavor.”

“Ooh. Brace yourself,” said Helena. She dug out the first two sleeves of cookies and gave him one.  

“How come there’s five in yours?” he asked with a frown. There were only four cookies in his sleeve. 

“The Lord giveth, and he taketh away,” she joked. “I get the bonus cookie.”

Ben gave her a deadpan look, but he ate in silence. He looked all surly, and she had to hold in a laugh. What a man-child.

Instead, she tossed her extra cookie at him. He raised a hand to instinctively fend off a projectile.

“Hey,” he said, with his mouth full.

Helena ended up giggling at the sight of crumbs falling from his mouth and in his beard. Again, man-child.

She wanted to hate him.

She should hate him, on principle alone.

Perhaps she had a weakness for deeply flawed men with massive egos. But fleeting as they were, she saw the glimpses of humanity in Ben—rare moments that got swallowed up by Soldier Boy.

In the morning, Butcher aimed to work on the list of safehouses where one of his most paranoid of ex-teammates, Mindstorm, could be hiding out. This next one was a few hours north. He’d be gone for the day, at least.

He was forced to leave Helena and Hughie behind, but not without a warning for the latter. Butcher had pulled Hughie aside and let him know that he wasn’t to leave her alone with Soldier Boy again, under any circumstances. Hughie didn’t have to ask “or what.”

Butcher was gone early in the morning. It allowed Helena and Ben to make their way into the kitchen slower in the morning. She was dressed for the day with her coffee mug in hand, sitting at the breakfast nook while Hughie caught up on the news from her laptop in the living room.

Ben grabbed a cup of coffee and took a seat next to her.

“What do you say you get started on breakfast. Huh, baby doll?” he asked. Or more like demanded, by his actual tone.

Helena shot him a dry look. “There’s cereal in the pantry.”

“Come on, now. I could use a home cooked meal,” he said.

Her brow twitched in irritation.

“It might be nice, since I have cracked ribs at the moment, if you might make yourself something,” Helena replied.

Ben gave her a smirk as he eyed her. “Why would I do that when you look like a perfectly good cook.”

“Oh, I am,” she said. “But I’m neither your servant nor your maid.”

“You’ve got two working hands, don’t you?” Ben remarked, as he sipped his coffee. “God fucking knows you’ve got a working mouth.”

Helena seethed as she got up from her chair, but not to make anyone a damn thing. She went to the sink to dump her empty coffee mug. She turned back to Ben and opened her mouth to say something she would very likely regret, but Hughie interjected, perhaps seeing that an explosion was about to happen.

“Uh, why don’t I make us something?” he said, getting up from the couch and heading into the kitchen with Helena. “I can whip us up some scrambled eggs. Bacon, if you’ve got it. Ooh, looks like you’ve got bread to make toast.”

She gave him a tight smile. “Knock yourself out.”

She ate her eggs on the couch in simmering silence while the news played on the TV. Hughie sat with her, casting her a look of concern every now and then. She ignored it all, including Ben’s less than discreet grumpy staring.  

Apparently, he couldn’t contain himself any longer.

“I swear to Christ. What the fuck is wrong with women today?” he said.

What a good start, Helena thought sarcastically.

“My mom never kept my father waiting for a meal. Even when he came home at whatever goddamn hour of the night, she had a plate waiting for him,” he said.

Helena rolled her eyes and quipped dryly, “That plate must’ve been cold as hell.”

Ben eyed her as she got up from the couch and went to bring her plate to the sink. She had her back to him as she began to rinse the dishes and put them into the sink.

“When did women get so fucking lazy? And disrespectful,” he remarked.

Helena hit the lever on the sink closed to turn off the faucet. She turned around to face the man and crossed her arms.

“You want a fuckable maid, pay extra,” she said. “But if you want a partner you can rely on. Someone you can trust not to give you to the damn Russians, then you share the load. And you respect the woman who lets you into her bed.”

She turned back to the dishes so she wouldn’t have to look at Ben’s angry, brooding face. But the way she turned her back on him, along with her pointed words, irritated enough to spark his anger. He got up from his seat.

Hughie sensed the danger before Helena did. He stood and made a cautious approach to the kitchen.

Helena reached for a hand towel, and found her wrist encased with an iron grip. She gasped as Ben turned her to face him.

“I’ve put up with a lot from you,” he said. “I think I’ve been a gentleman, considering what a disrespectful little brat you are. But I really think you wanna get bent over my knee.”

His face told her that she wouldn’t enjoy it.

“Hey,” Hughie tried to intervene. “Let’s just calm down, all right?”

Helena let out a shaky breath, but she looked up at Ben and somehow managed to hold her ground, despite the iron grip on her arms.

“If it makes you feel better, go ahead,” she said. “Slap me around until I break.”

“Soldier Boy!” Hughie said in warning.

Ben ignored him. He stared down at Helena with cold anger in his eyes. His hold on her arms tightened, and it hurt. She failed to stifle a gasp of pain.

But she stared up at him defiantly, even though there were tears forming in her eyes.

“You want me to respect you? You killed my friend’s family, and you don’t even care,” she said. “I don’t see anything here that earns my respect.”

Ben reacted to her words, mostly with anger as his brows furrowed.

Hughie grabbed the supe’s shoulder. “Hey, man, just let her go!”

Ben shoved Hughie away so hard that it made the younger man slide across the kitchen and into the far wall, until he hit a bookshelf and fell to the ground.

Helena flinched in shock, and pain at the way he was still holding her. Ben saw it play across her face…and he let her go abruptly. He stared down at her for a moment, nostrils flaring with his heavier breathing. She tried to calm her own breathing as she met his gaze, wondering what he would do. Wondering if this was the moment she’d signed her own death warrant by being her smartass self.

But Ben walked away from her.

Well, stalked away, more like. He left through the front door and it swung open on its hinges.

Helena took in deep breathes of relief. Eventually she gathered enough of her wits to go to Hughie, who was still picking himself off the floor.  

“I gotta go after him,” he said with a sigh.

“Get that man away from my house. I don’t care where you take him,” Helena said, frowning tersely. Hughie couldn’t blame her.

“Are you okay?” he asked, and touched her arm gently. She pulled away from his touch and held herself with crossed arms.

“I’m fine. Just go get him,” she replied.

He nodded and took off after Soldier Boy. It gave Helena the reprieve she needed to let out a long, tremulous breath. A tear fell down her cheek as she leaned on the kitchen counter.

She just couldn’t help taking her life into her hands.

Butcher returned to Helena’s house in the evening. Her car was still in the driveway, but when he let himself in with the spare key she’d given him, he realized that the house was empty, except for her.

She was washing dishes from a dinner she’d clearly made for just herself: a Lean Cuisine.

“Where the hell are Hughie and Soldier Boy?” he asked, approaching where she stood in the kitchen, dressed down in a long-sleeved shirt and yoga pants.

“I couldn’t give a fuck,” she said. “Hello to you too, by the way.”

Her voice had little energy in it, save for anger and sarcasm, and Butcher took notice. He frowned.

“You’re the one who brought ‘em here. Weren’t my fucking idea, remember?” he snarked back.

Helena finally gave up on the dishes and turned to him with angry tears in her eyes.

“But you’re the one who made it happen, Billy. You wanted to cut a deal with that ancient, unstable fucking asshole? Well, you got your damn wish,” she said. “You are the reason we’re in this mess.”

Butcher paused at the sight of her unshed tears. His jaw worked as he tried to make sense of why she was this upset, when just yesterday she was joking and laughing with the supe like he was the guest of honor.

His brows drew together. “What did he do?”

Helena refused to answer.

Butcher went to her and tried to grasp her arm, but she pulled away from him with a flinch. Her eyes flicked away from his.

Unbidden, it reminded him of the day he waited for her at her apartment. And she’d come home after work looking skittish and drained. She’d flinched away from his touch then, just like she’d done now. That had been the day Homelander nearly strangled her to death.

“What the fuck did he do, Helena?” Butcher repeated. She met his gaze. 

“You better find him,” she said, “before he blows up another damn building.”

Butcher stared hard at her, but she wouldn’t say anything more.

He fished out his cell and called Hughie, who told him that he’d brought Soldier Boy to the Legend’s penthouse apartment in the city.

“Good,” Butcher nodded. “Keep him settled there while I look for Mindstorm.”

He glanced at Helena, but she was already walking away from him to finish cleaning up her kitchen.

Butcher ended his call. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’ve gotta go,” was what he settled on.

She shrugged. Butcher nearly sighed. He went to her though, while she was wiping down the counter with a clean rag. His hand reached out to touch her back, but at the last moment, he thought better of it. His arm drifted back to his side.

“You okay?” he asked gruffly.

“Like you care,” she said. Her tone was one of both snark and exhaustion. “Just go.”

Reluctantly, he went.

Helena was angry, to say the least—at Butcher, at Soldier Boy, and even at Hughie. She was also angry at herself for not having been able to leave well enough alone when Butcher left the first time.

Which first time? She snorted.

But she was especially mad at herself when she allowed the three men to traipse back into her home, a week later.

“‘Ullo, love,” Butcher greeted at her door.

They were covered with dried sweat and dirt, like they’d been hiking. She only let them in because of how they looked—each a bit rattled by whatever they’d faced. Her house was safer than the Legend’s at this point, Butcher explained.

“Just one night,” he asked. “We’ll fuck off in the morning.”

“Fine,” she agreed, despite her better judgment. Again, it was that look in his eyes. Unsteady.

Ben gave her a predictable once-over of her pajama shorts and tank-top, but it seemed he didn’t have it in him to volley with her like usual, especially after what happened last time. He didn’t acknowledge that as he made his way to one of the guest rooms.

Helena followed Hughie and Butcher upstairs…but something made her grab Butcher and steer him away from the second guest bedroom.

He wasn’t sure what she was doing while she guided him into the bathroom in her room. There he leaned against the counter of the bathroom sink. She picked the twigs out of his hair and brushed the dried mud from his shirt.

“Did you take a dirt nap or something?” she asked.

“Something like that,” he replied.

“What the hell happened then?”

He looked down at her. “Mindstorm is dead.”

She sighed at that, but something else was there, behind his eyes. Just under the surface.

“And what else?” Helena asked.

Butcher remained quiet, hesitating. She slowly took a chance by reaching for his scarred hand. She held it with both of hers.

He couldn’t help himself. He brushed his thumb over the back of her warm, tan, smooth hand, reminding himself that she was real and alive. And he wasn’t locked in his mind.

“When I left for the SAS,” he said, “I left my little brother behind…with our raging cunt of a father.”

Helena inhaled deeply; she remembered what Butcher had told her about Lenny, about how he died young. But somehow, Butcher had left out this detail. He met her gaze with tears forming in his red-rimmed eyes.

“I shouldn’t have left him,” he confessed.

Helena was half in shock as she watched the first tear roll down his cheek. She realized then that she had never seen the true depths of this man. Not until tonight.

Her eyes burned with sympathetic emotion as she reached for him and pull him into her arms. He held her back, burying his face in her neck and grounding himself in her as his body shook. Those brutal memories, along with the grief that had been locked deep inside had loosened, and the doors were now swinging open on their hinges.

“Jesus Christ, Helena…I’m sorry,” he said. His voice wavered, and his hand clenched in her hair. “For what I keep doing to ya. Dragging you down with me with every goddamn step.” 

He pulled back enough to see her, to be faced with her tears as she bit her lip.

“And for what I said…to you, and to the kid. I’m fucking sorry,” he said.

Helena broke down just as much as he did then. She nodded in acceptance, and she held his face in her hands. Then she brought him down for a tender kiss. Butcher gave into the soft warmth of her as he held her against him, unwilling to let go this time.

And she led him back into her bed.

In the late hours of the night, Butcher returned to Helena’s bed after a shower. She was already fast asleep. He slid in behind her, gently caressing the back of his hand up her naked back and over her shoulder, down her arm…

And he saw it. A purplish, yellow band around her arm.

It looked like a bruise, formed by a large hand. A man’s hand.

Butcher was damn certain it wasn’t his own, and he’d just finished tracing all the contours of her body tonight.

Though he was reminded of what happened a few days ago…

His brows drew together. “What did he do?”

Helena refused to answer.

Butcher went to her and tried to grasp her arm, but she pulled away from him with a flinch. Her eyes flicked away from his.

Soldier Boy. That old cunt.

Rage built and built inside him. That unfathomable rage that so often fostered lethal energy in Butcher’s blood.

Carefully he slipped out of bed. He got as far as the doorway before he looked back at Helena. He focused on her easy breathing, her messy dark hair splayed on her pillow.

The rage he felt began to simmer down, bit by bit, into self-loathing. Because he did this.

She’d been right before. Butcher made the deal with Soldier Boy. And Butcher brought this shitshow into her home.

So he forced himself to join her back in bed. He traced down the back of her neck, down the length of her lotus tattoo. It made her shiver in her sleep.

Butcher had failed his brother, and Becca. But he couldn’t fail this time. He’d keep Helena and Hughie safe, and alive.

Butcher’s phone was on silent, but the light from his phone on the nightstand illuminated the dark room and stole his attention. He grabbed it and frowned at the strange number on the caller ID. He took the phone into the bathroom and closed the door.

“Hello?” he answered.

“I need to talk to Hughie. Where is he?” Annie asked.

“Oh, Starlight. How delightful,” he muttered. And then he lied.“He’s just popped out for a bit.”

“Okay, well he’s not answering his phone.”

“Bit hard to keep a phone when you’re teleporting all day, innit, love? How can I help?”

“Temp V is going to kill you both,” she said.

“Well, it’s gonna have to join the queue,” he quipped.

“I was just in the lab. It causes lesions, okay? It turns your brain into fucking Swiss cheese!” she shouted. “So please be honest with me, and tell me how many doses have you taken?”

Butcher hesitated at that. His stomach began to churn.

“Just a couple,” he replied. Or a few.

“Jesus Christ,” she said. “Butcher, five to six doses kills you. Got that? You need to tell Hughie.”

Butcher hesitated. “Yeah…yeah, I will. I promise.”

“Okay, but I’m calling every five minutes until—”

He hung up on her. All the while, his mind was reeling.

Fuck, he thought. Fatal after five doses. He’d already had three. Hughie’d had two.

And they needed more, if they were going to face Homelander and Black Noir.

“Scorched earth” was going to come at a price. Butcher had known that going into this, but it suddenly took on new meaning as he opened the bathroom door and looked over at Helena, peacefully sleeping in bed. 

Butcher thought of Ryan, and all of his broken promises.

But come the morning, Butcher didn’t tell anyone of what he’d learned.

AN: Oooh, we're getting so close to the end here, folks!

Next Time:

“Why are you being so fucking stubborn?” Butcher asked.

Her head tilted as she gave a wry smile. “What do you mean?”

His grip on her waist tightened a little.

“Why’re you staying with me?” he pressed. “Hel, you know where this ends.”

“Billy, I don’t have a death wish,” she told him. She squeezed his arms back. “But I don’t just want you alive for me. Ryan needs you too.”

Keep Reading: Part 19

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Tag List:

@lauraaan182 @homielander @calizmor @haibara-ai-tsii @brujaporfavor @sleepyqueerenergy @adoringanakin @skyesthebomb @lunaticgurly @deans-spinster-witch @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

@wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog @globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso

@xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989 @emily-winchester @xxlaynaxx @kaleldobrev @jad3djay @jackles010378 @kishie8

[winchestergirl2]

March Reading Recs

To show some love and appreciation to all the amazing writers here on tumblr, here are all the fantastic fics I've read this month. 💖

Many of these fics and blogs are 18+ only, and NSFW please heed the author's individual fic warnings and requests regarding no minors. I am not responsible for your media consumption.

2023 Reading Recs | 2024 Reading Recs

Supernatural

Sam Winchester

You're On Your Own Kid Part 2 @my-proof-is-you

Authors Summary: You’re used to being on your own. You’d been on your own as long as you could remember. Could Sam show you that it isn’t the only way to live?

Don't Worry About Me @my-proof-is-you

Authors Summary: Anon Request: hi! could you do a sam imagine where he’s been really stressed with work/researching for a big hunt, y/n can’t sleep and sees him still awake and tries to make him feel better? maybe some hidden feelings for both of them?? just really fluffy cute stuff please!! thank you! i love your work!

Requited Love @uhohnotthisagain

Authors Summary: Sam discovers his love for you in a not so clean dream, he doesn't realise his actions following the realisation would effect you so much.

10 Inch Hero

Boaz Priestly

The Miracle Man @zepskies

Authors Summary: The first time you met Priestly was both the worst and best night of your life. He gave you a Miracle.

Centerfold Dance Party @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms

The Boys

Soldier Boy

The Bet @quin-ns

Authors Summary: butcher leaves you to keep an eye on soldier boy and things become interesting when a deck of cards gets involved

Let's Dance @impala-dreamer

Authors Summary ~If there's one thing she knows, it's that she fucking hates Soldier Boy. If there's one thing he knows, it's that he can change her mind.~

I'm A Ruin Part I | Part II | Part III | @anundyingfidelity

Authors Summary: After the events of the Seven Tower, you present Grace Mallory a new secret project you're working on already to develop a cure to Compound V. The only problem? You need Soldier Boy for that.

Billy Butcher

And So It Goes (Masterlist) @zepskies

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

Big Sky

Beau Arlen

Take Me Home Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | @zepskies

Authors Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. You’re aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But you’ve both got a past you’re running from. 

Jurisdiction @waynes-multiverse

I need your hand but I don't want to burn it Part 1 @thebiggerbear

Authors Summary: You receive a phone call letting you know a family member has passed. The news rocks your world, especially when you find yourself flying back home for the services, returning to a place you'd rather forget. As your best friend, Beau is trying to be there for you but you're determined to go it alone. But since you've known him, when has Beau Arlen ever not had your back?

[enchantedflameandflower]

Glimmer 29/? Billy Butcher fic

Tag List: @2dead2function @secretdreamlandmentality

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter (28)

Notes: Thank you so much for reading! I did recently receive an anon ask and I'm excited to work on it (tho I know I am so slow!) Thank you!

_____

Chapter 29

It was well into the middle of the day before they could leave the site. Addison sat with her legs curled up in the backseat of Butcher’s car with the door open while he spoke with Mallory. 

When he finished, Addison noticed Mallory shoot her a concerned look as he walked back to her from across the parking lot, but to be honest Addison didn’t feel much of anything except exhaustion. She wasn’t scared of that piece of shit and he hadn’t really hurt her. Whatever knockout gas he’d used had done a fine job of keeping her loopy and out of it. 

“They won’t stop until they find the cunt,” Billy rumbled as he came up, leaning against the car door. “And she swore to call us as soon as she did.” 

Addison nodded, and finally took a deep breath. As much as she wanted to track the bastard down herself, she could hardly keep her eyes open except for the fact that she was still covered in soot and dirt and blood, sticky and gross.  

Billy let his gaze soften as he looked her over. “Don’t think it’s safe to go back to either of our places right now,” he said, rubbing at his jaw. 

“I’ll get a hotel room,” Addison replied, and she turned to her bag without waiting for him to answer. An agent had gone by her apartment earlier for her to grab clothes and her phone and a few other important things she didn’t want left there. 

Fuck the moral high ground, she thought as she plucked her cell from her bag. She’d use her black card to get a fucking suite on the top floor of one of those hotels uptown with as much security as the White House. They’d earned it. 

As Billy drove them across the city, Addison reserved a room on her phone, making sure it was a place where you could check in and get a digital key card on the app without having to talk to anyone at the front desk. When they pulled into the parking garage, she scrubbed at her face in the mirror on the sun visor then pulled a loose sweater on over her bloody tank top. With Billy’s duster and a pair of sunglasses added, she thought they could probably get through the lobby without being arrested. 

She was right and they made it inside. Her key code was needed not only to get into the elevator but to get to the floor their room was on as well and Addison gave a quiet sigh of relief. She needed to rest, and she could not bear it if anything else happened to Billy because of her. They double locked the door of the room with a deadbolt and the thick metal door guard. 

The room had a small sitting area and a huge bed, with a bathroom to the side. For a moment Addison stood there, not even able to think what she was supposed to do next. She tossed her bag on a chair then looked up to find Billy watching her. 

Once more, when she met his intense hazel eyes they were drawn to each other by something outside of themselves - or maybe by something deep, deep inside. Billy took one step forward and wrapped her up in his arms, pulling her hard against his broad chest. 

“I’m so sorry, Addi. I was such a prick, it was my fault…”

She shook her head against his shoulder, sliding her fingers into his hair and pulling back to look at him. “I wasn’t any better,” she murmured. “I’m not hurt but I shouldn’t have put you through that…”

“He’s after me, Addi, he’s using you to hurt me, I can’t…” his voice was thick and gruff. “I can’t let -“

Addison shook her head again, and pulled Billy to her. “Fuck him. We’ll get him.” 

“If something happens to you because of me I couldn’t live with myself, Addison, I won’t…” he broke off, his eyes dark and intense. “You’re better off -“

“Nothing’s going to happen to me. I’m here. I’m okay. I’m going to fucking kick that guy’s ass.”

Billy smirked, but Addison knew he was still struggling with the guilt. She could sense this was not something he was going to let drop but exhaustion was weighing her mind and her body down. “We’ll talk about it more later.”

Billy finally nodded and turned to kiss her temple again. “Let me start the shower for you, eh?” he murmured. 

Addison nodded gratefully. “You too. I need to patch you up after.”

He sighed, but didn’t argue. He knew just as well as she did that her cuts had long healed but his injuries would not. 

She pulled her sweater off and tossed it over a chair then threw the rest of her clothes in the trash in the bathroom. She felt disgusting and looked just as bad but it was Billy she was worried about. After he adjusted the shower spray, she watched him as he undressed, cataloguing every bruise and patch of raw red skin she could see and desperately wishing there was some way she could just make them disappear. 

Billy wasn’t bothered at all though. He held the shower door open for her and she stepped under the warm water, groaning in utter relief as everything immediately started to wash away. 

Billy stepped in behind her, reaching for one of the little hotel bottles of soap and pouring it into his palm before he started gently rubbing his hands over her body. He started at her shoulders, smoothing and kneading, then urged her to turn around. The grotesque, disfigured B was still visible above her heart, and he ran the tip of his thumb over the dried blood with dark eyes before he washed it away along with everything else. 

Addison closed her eyes, reveling in the feeling of the spray of water on her back and Billy’s touch washing away everything that had happened. He ran his soapy hands carefully over her breasts, then her stomach and her hips, before turning her around again to wash her back. Addison felt her body filling with warmth, her muscles relaxing one by one like magic as he took care of her. 

After he helped her wash her hair she twisted it into a knot on top of her head and turned to him. “My turn,” she murmured in a tone that brokered no discussion. 

She did the same for him, but was especially careful over each burn and cut she came across, not all of them new. She made a note to herself of which ones needed to be tended when they got out whether he liked it or not, she savored the bits of him that were unmarred, lines of hard muscle and firm skin, and she reverently stroked the scars left over from god knows what horrible things. 

The water was still warm when she finished, so she whispered “just a few more minutes” and Billy made a low noise of agreement in response. He sat on the wide tile bench in the shower and gathered in his lap and he held her there in the water until she started to fall asleep against his chest. 

Finally Billy reached out to turn off the water and they dried off with thick towels. Addison pulled on a clean oversized tank top but Billy didn’t bother with anything. “Bed,” she directed him and he did as he was told. She pulled her first aid kit out of her bag and started to dab a little salve on the worst of the burns, adding bandages to ones that needed it, but trying not to be overly attentive. 

“How did you get through the explosion?” she asked as she gently prodded at a patch of red skin on his arm, reaching for the burn gel again.

“When I saw the bomb I legged it for the back of the place but I knew I weren’t gonna make it out. Shut myself up in a walk-in freezer just in time and then I found a way out that weren’t totally in flames yet.”

She put her stuff away then reached up to slide her hand along his jaw. “Thank you for coming for me…” She had to let him know, she had to tell him what it meant for him to never give up the way he did. 

He nodded then moved her kit off the bed. “‘Nough playin’ doctor, sunshine. Ya need sleep.”  

He pushed the heavy blankets away and helped her lay down before pulling them back up and gathering her close. He nestled in close to her, slipping his arm around her waist and she wrapped her arms around him as he lay along side her settling with his head on her shoulder.

She thanked the universe over and over in her head that she still had him. After a moment she realized she could tell he was still thinking, not falling asleep.

“What are you doing?” she hummed, carding her fingers through his hair as he tightened his arm around her waist, his ear pressed to the flat of her chest. “Not that I’m complaining…”

“Listenin’ to your heartbeat,” he murmured gruffly. “Go to sleep.”

Addison smiled, closing her eyes, and she did the same, listening to his. 

They were woken up hours later by Billy’s phone ringing from the nightstand. He jerked awake, moving his free arm to reach for it before he’d even fully opened his eyes. 

“Yeah,” he answered, his voice hoarse. 

“We found him,” Mallory replied in her customary clipped tone. Billy sat up so fast from where they were tangled together on the bed Addison tumbled out of his arms.

“Who is it,” he growled. 

“It took some digging but we traced the phone to a company called Dynamite Consulting, which is a subsidiary of Atlas Group, owned by NovaStar. Which is owned by James Stillwell.”

“Stillwell? The fuck?!”

“Madelyn Stillwell’s brother.”

_____

Please let me know what you think of this chapter! Thanks!

[avastrasposts]

The British Connection - ch. 1

Read on Ao3

Before I started on The Pilot and his Girl I got back into fanfic writing by writing a OFC fic set in The Boys fandom. The Boys is a fairly small fanfic fandom on Tumblr it seems but I'm very happy with the fic and it was the first one finished in a very long time. I never properly posted it here so I'm scheduling it for the weekend in case someone wants to read it while they wait for the next chapter of The Pilot (so much happening in that chapter!).

The plot follows MI6 agent Eve Edwards as she's assigned to help Billy Butcher and The Boys take down a new type of supe killing politicians on both sides of the pond. Not much fluff in this, plenty of canon typical violence, smut and extreme amounts of Britishness 😄

Lieutenant-Colonel Grace Mallory has requested, no, demanded, Billy Butcher’s presence at a meeting this damp January morning. He grumbles down his phone at the early hour she gives him but agrees to meet. Saying no to Mallory isn’t wise, especially since she’s the one paying the bills. 

He finds the address she’s given him leading to an anonymous looking office building on a seedy side street in midtown. The entrance door opens after he rings the bell for the 16th floor, a small camera verifying his identity before he’s let in. The building is what you’d expect from a covert agency office, nothing betrays the nature of the activity on the inside. 

As the lift takes him up to 16th he ponders on the nature of this meeting. It’s rare for Mallory to be in the city, even rarer for her to meet with the leader of The Boys. Things have been flowing rather smoothly the past few months. Minor supes were biting the dust almost on a weekly basis, information was coming in from reliable sources, coerced or otherwise, and Butcher felt sure that sooner rather than later they would find intelligence that would deal a hard blow to Vought and The Seven. Maybe Mallory had found something too sensitive to share electronically and set up this meeting, maybe this was it. 

The lift arrives on the 16th floor and he steps out into a small reception area. A middle aged lady with graying hair sits behind a desk in front of a sturdy looking glass door. The slight green tinge to the glass lets Butcher know it’s bulletproof. The receptionist looks up as he steps out of the lift. 

“Lieutenant-Colonel Mallory is expecting you, Mr Butcher. Down the hallway and to your right. Sign here”. 

She hands him a pen and he signs his name to the visitors sheet, as if they didn’t already know he was in the building and will keep eyes on him until he’s left. 

The receptionist pushes a button on her desk and the glass door clicks open, he grabs the handle and makes his way through, his heavy boots making squeaking noises on the cheap linoleum floor. The hallway beyond is lined with the same material, walls painted a nauseating lima bean green. He turns the corner and is met by another long hallway, blank doors on either side and at the end a conference room with large glass windows with the same green tinge. 

Mallory is standing by a large table, her back turned against the door, looking at another woman in the room whom Butcher doesn’t recognise. She’s leaning over the table, hands splayed, studying an open file in front of her. She looks like an agent, that same anonymous black suit they all wear, white shirt, sensible shoes and, oh yes, a glimpse of a holster under her jacket. He can’t make out what gun she’s carrying but she’s definitely packing. At the sound of his squeaking boots approaching she looks up from the file and gives him a once over. He knows that look, it’s the same look he gives anyone who walks up to him, assessing the potential threat, finding weaknesses and making a worst case scenario plan in a split second. Yeah, this lady is definitely an agent. 

The women's movement makes Mallory turn and look behind her. As she sees Butcher approaching she says something to the woman who closes the file in front of her and straightens up. Mallory walks over to the door and lets Butcher in by clicking a button next to it. 

“Butcher, thank you for coming,” she says as he walks through the door. 

‘Ello, Mallory” he replies, “always a rare pleasure to see you in the city”. 

He walks round the table so that he’s standing at the short end, back against the empty wall, clear view over the room. 

“What’s the occasion?” He locks eyes with the other woman in the room. She moved as he moved, facing him with her side against the long table. Clearly whatever Mallory wants it involves this agent lady. 

“Butcher, this is MI6 officer Edwards. She’s been sent over from London by her commanding officer to gather intelligence on a supe that we are also very interested in. As the MI6 mission objective closely matches our own desired outcome it’s been decided she will work with you and your crew while she’s stateside.” 

Mallory has kept a straight face up until now but her composure finally cracks and she gives a crooked smile at Butcher. 

“And I thought it rather fitting to let you work with one of your own for a change”. 

Edwards stretches out her hand towards Butcher but doesn’t make a move to close the distance between them. 

“Eve Edwards, nice to meet you” she says and Butcher curses internally, Fuck!  

Her accent cuts the air like glass and he’s got her pegged. Privileged, public school, Oxbridge, old money and all the connections you could need to make it in ol’ Blighty. He glares at Mallory but she’s either playing dumb or doesn’t understand the implications of her accent and its stark contrast to his own. In the US, class is based on money, in the UK you can be the richest wanker in the land but your family and your accent will decide what class you belong to. And Eve Edwards’s class has spent centuries fucking over everyone from Butcher’s. 

“Billy Butcher, pleasure” he says to Edwards but he doesn’t offer his hand, neither does he cross the space between them. She drops hers without a word, the sarcasm in his voice is hard to miss. 

“Why’d ye put me up with this, Mallory?” Butcher barks, turning to her. “I decide who joins The Boys, it’s me own crew and not some CIA/MI6 bullshit operation. And ‘specially not with some..”, he waves his hand in the other woman’s direction. 

“We’re working for the same cause here Butcher” Mallory intervenes before he can finish his insult. “We’re sharing our intelligence with MI6 and they are sharing theirs with us so that we can stop this supe faster, before any more damage is done. And as an added bonus,” Mallory gestures to Edwards, “your team is strengthened by a seasoned MI6 officer who I’m sure will prove a very valuable asset.”. 

“I’ve read your file, Butcher.” Edwards says before he has a chance to open his mouth again, pointing at the fat documents folder she closed as he arrived. “Former Royal Marines, former SAS, tours in Afghanistan, Iraq, Somalia. If you were still in the UK we’d most likely be working together already. We’d probably even have served together in some of those places”. 

She walks down the length of the table and puts her hand out again as she approaches him. 

“I’m not joining your operation, we just need to work together on this one and working with someone who knows how MI6 operates is going to make this easier on both of us”. 

Butcher stares down at her, he’s at least a good head taller than her, she barely reaches his shoulder, but the way she walked over, the way she stands in front of him now, even with her hand stretched out, tells him she’d be no pushover in a fight, even against him. Fuck.

Furrowing his brow, he acknowledges her attempt at making an effort to win him over with a curt nod, convincing himself this is the easy way to do it. Mallory is not backing down. But he can’t make himself take her hand, instead he snarls at Mallory, 

“Fuck it then, I’m in, and she’s in. But you better follow my orders, sunshine”, he growls back at Edwards who yet again has dropped her hand. “And you’re gonna ‘ave to change out of that fuckin’ suit, you look like an operative coming a fuckin’ mile off.”

[piratesfromspace]

Poison (Billy Butcher x Reader)

Pairing: Billy Butcher x Reader

!! Spoilers for The Boys Season 3, episode 2 !! I’m interrupting my Top Gun mania to write for The Boys. I wrote this while on withdrawal from painkiller/AD and it turned out more angsty than I intended, but I’m pretty proud of this piece. Hope you’ll like it! TW: mention of death and alcohol, smut, p in v sex, kinda rough sex, angst, age gap, Reader is female and younger than Butcher but definitely of age (in her 20s or 30s)

MASTERLIST

Butcher had - has - many vices. Addictions come easy to him. But sex is not one of them. Not since he lost his wife. The first time at least. Now he doesn’t even have the hope of finding her alive. He knows she’s dead, she won’t come back. He can’t decide if it’s worse or not than being in the limbo of maybe.

Her death has dug a new hole in his heart. In his already flimsy ethics. He just doesn’t care anymore about what happens to him, he has decided to follow his instincts - all of them, even the lower ones. It’s a death wish and a hedonistic impulse all wrapped into one. Into his sick mind. Into his oh so very mortal body.

The last remnants of compound V are running in his veins. The green poison is temporary - but it’s a poison nonetheless. He hates every minute of it. It enhances everything: his strength, his senses, his wit, but also his darkness, his impulsiveness, his ugly desires. He has one hour left before withdrawal, maybe two. And his mission is done. He found the supe he was looking for, he had squeezed the answers out of him, and then he had killed him. There is blood on his shoes, on the lapel of his ragged jacket. He can still smell it, and it’s driving him crazy. All this power at the tip of his fingers, and nowhere to put it. No more supes to smash to a pulp. He’s growing restless. Frustrated. He needs an outlet.

And then he runs into her when he gets back to the safe house. He knows her somehow. She’s a friend of a friend of Frenchie. She helped them once or twice. Or they helped her? He’s not sure but he remembers her because she looked pretty and young and out of her depth. Not the kind of girl who would usually hang around the likes of Frenchie and Chérie. She had been kind to Kimiko, when most people act afraid or like she doesn’t exist. She was different in a way he couldn’t really describe. She also had been nice to him. Flirty even, if he must believe MM’s taunt. She had looked at him like he wasn’t the monster he is, and he had been unsettled for a second. If he weren’t trying to lie to himself, he would recognize she reminded him of Becca.

It’s dark outside - he has lost track of time. All he knows is the feeling of power pulsing under his skin. And the girl, she smiles at him, she asks where the others are, she offers some food she brought back just for them. She still looks pretty. Still looks out of place in this rundown basement.

Are you okay? You look like you just snorted a kilo of cocaine. She quips, and he chuckles because her french accent makes everything she says sound so damn cute. Is that blood? Are you hurt? She adds when she gets closer, and he can see the faint freckles on her nose, the way her eyes grow big and concerned under her long lashes. Her hands find his chest, she wants to soothe him, to understand and to cure. The compound V is still thrumming in his body. He still has all this energy to spare. He doesn’t know how to cure that, until her lips fall on his.

It’s kind of a blur - experimental drugs will do that to you - but he’s now pressing her against the wall, kissing her senseless. He buries his face into her neck, getting drunk on her smell, something sweet and girlish, until he rucks her mini skirt up her thighs and drags his fingers against her clothed cunt. The fabric of her panty is damp, and he swears he can also smell this. He’s rock hard in his jeans, already leaking, like he’s a freaking teenager again. He snatches the fabric aside and gathers her slick before pressing circles into her little clit. She gasps and pants and it makes his ego swell. She grabs his arms as he pushes her even more against the wall, and he has to step back, let her breathe because he just forgot for a moment that he could crush her in a blink if he wanted to.

Please, Butcher She begs. He hates that she has to call him by this name, but it’s the only one she has for him. Still, he’s more than happy to comply, and to finally open his fly. He notices the way she tenses when she sees him. He’s never been this hard, this big, full of his drug-enhanced blood. He keeps his fingers on her clit, rubbing slow as he breaches her. He has to remind her to breathe and relax before he starts moving. He’s holding her, driving her up against the concrete. He can do that without breaking a sweat, without worrying his bad elbow will give out. She weighs nothing in his arms, it’s like carrying a cloud. She feels hot, scorching hot and tight and wet around his cock. He grinds his hips carefully, he wants to stay in control, to make it good for her, even though the green shit in his veins commands him to go fast and hard. Top take, to rip open, to not worry about the consequences.

**

She had always found him kinda hot. She finds everyone kinda hot actually, that’s her problem. But the first time she saw him, with his stupid grin and jerky attitude contrasting with his rugged appearance, she knew she was doomed. Butcher, two syllables that don’t try to sugar coat who he is. It’s not a hyperbole either. He has that violent aura, that assured bravado dipped in a very dark sense of humour. He also has the body count - in the very literal sense - to back it up. Everything about him screams danger, and the stories she heard should raise a thousand red flags. But she decided that he was too handsome to dwell on such consideration. It was actually part of the appeal. Her survival instinct was already fucked up, another dubious choice in her so called romantic life wouldn’t make a difference in the mess that was her existence.

The concrete wall is unforgiving for her back. She’s deliciously split open on his cock, pinned there with nowhere to go. He had swept her clean off her feet effortlessly. He looked buffed anyway, but she was not ready for this. Something was wrong with him. He was too quiet. There was a faint glimpse of too bright orange-y light in his eyes that wasn’t there before. He seemed on edge, ready to take on the world and to burst into tears at the same time. She wanted to help, as always.

He moves slowly, filling her so well, one of his hands between her legs, touching her where she needs it. Calloused fingertips on her tender flesh, the pressure perfect. It’s surprising because she thought he would be way rougher than he is - and she would have been happy with that. She could have dealt with the manhandling, and the quick fuck with no tomorrow. It would have been the perfect way to flush him out of her system. The almost-tenderness he’s displaying, the care, yet basic enough, he’s putting into this - she’s not sure she can process. She peers up at him with half hooded eyes, and he looks on the verge of crying. She surges forward, kissing his lips, drinking whatever sorrow is bothering him. She wants to help, as always.

***

Butcher keeps fucking her through the kiss, he licks into her mouth with a renewed hunger. She tastes like bubblegum and vodka, and it makes perfect sense with the rest of her. He tries to forget the sudden realisation she was the first girl he was sleeping with since Becca’s death. It had hit him from nowhere. Compound V has the nasty side effect of making you believe you’re unstoppable - that is until something you can’t break with your bare hands, like emotion or memory, comes back to bite you in the ass.

Butcher… butcher! She calls him back to reality. A pang of guilt crosses his face when he notices the way she’s huddled harshly between the wall and him, the thin tank top she’s wearing not enough to cushion the soft skin of her back from the hard concrete.

He mutters an apology and he carries her to the old couch below the dirty window. She’s still so light in his arms, she feels unreal. A ghost. An elaborate hallucination. Maybe he’s slowly losing his mind because of the greenish liquid sloshing in his skull. The only thing convincing him she’s somewhat true is her warmth, her smell, the soft noises she makes. It’s crazy how being a supe sharpens his senses until he can pick up the smell of her sweat under her perfume, of her wet cunt, until he can hear the slightest hitch in her breathing, the thump of her heart speeding up when he pushes inside her again.

Soft moans fill the room again as he rocks gently against her. Her hands are buried in his hair, grabbing at the luscious locks. She tugs at his scalp, bites his bottom lip, and snaps her own hips to take him further. He smiles against her neck as he understands what she needs.

‘You fancy it rougher, luv?   He whispers, voice hoarse with this heavy accent of his. She nods greedily. What a pretty dirty little thing you are He acknowledges, a hand collaring her neck, and her pussy clenches on his cock at this.

A grunt escapes his lips, something feral, almost victorious, as he feels the last surge of cursed power coursing through his body.

[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!

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[thequeenofwands777]

𝐂𝐚𝐭 𝐆𝐨𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞? | 𝐌𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢 𝐱 𝐎𝐅𝐂 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐎𝐧𝐞: 𝐑𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐝

Synopsis — Decades have passed since the horrific massacre of Brooklyn’s infamous crime family, all its members supposedly wiped out in the most notorious unsolved cold case in the state’s history.

All except one.

Katherina Vitale, the Don’s daughter. She’s known to the public as Felina, the Seven’s Fiesty Femme Fatale and the Deadly Darling in the Shadows. But to those with the clearance, she’s the company’s safety net in case a certain well-known supe goes off the rails.

After the Vought Senior Vice President of Hero Management's plans to force the woman into early retirement are put on hold by the untimely passing of one of the Seven, Katherina is welcomed back to the team. This time with a new stance on her place in the world when she learns the truth of what happened that fated night.

Will she remain loyal to the corporation responsible for her family’s demise? Or will she join William Butcher and his Boys in the fight against her own kind?

Pairing(s) — Black Noir x OFC, Billy Butcher x OFC, The Homelander x OFC, Queen Maeve x OFC, Minor The Deep x OFC

Fandom — The Boys - All Media Types

Status — in progress. Masterlist

Warning(s) — Graphic Descriptions of Violence, Implied/Referenced Past Sexual Assault, Referenced Past Child Abuse, Science Experiments, Canon Typical Violence, Swearing, Angst, Manipulation, Survivor's Guilt, Loss, Substance Abuse, Manipulation, Betrayal, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Freeform, Dark Comedy, Discrimination, Soldier Boy has issues, Everyone Has Issues, Possessive Behavior, Explicit Sexual Content, Corruption, American Politics

Tag(s) — Star-Crossed Lovers, Past Relationship(s), Grey!OC, BAMF!OC, Nerd!OC, OC is Catwoman of The Boys Universe, Switch!OC, Sexual Tension, Sub Kevin | The Deep, Top Billy Butcher, BAMF Billy Butcher, Sub The Homelander | John, Switch Black Noir, Italian Mafia, Women In Power, BAMF Women, Women's Rights, Song: Brand New City (Mitski), but if I gave up on being pretty I wouldn't know how to be alive, Other Additional Tags To Be Applied

“I have a very exciting surprise for you. Both a member of the Seven, and the Deadly Darling in the Shadows,” Stillwell said, her brow twitching, like the words were venom on her tongue—the only evidence of her disdain. Maddie Stillwell, so well-trained. 

Beams of heavenly light cast a pale glow on the stage, highlighting every faint line on the golden-haired woman’s shiny face. Even from where she stood yards away, Katherina could smell the fresh botox under the woman’s skin, invading nerve cells and paralyzing her facial muscles. 

“Live and in person, the Fiesty Femme Fatale, Felina!”

A stunning, long-legged woman sauntered across the stage, every man in the audience shifting in their seats as their pants tightened in an almost-pavlovian response to seeing her. Katherina never failed to enrapture, with the skin-tight fabric of her raven catsuit shifting with every elegant movement of her body. 

Fuck the costume department, the woman thought every time she pulled it on. Pushing down a wave of disgust, wood splintered around her nails as they made indents into the podium’s sides.

“Thank you. Aw, thank you, everybody,” She purred in her smoky voice, rapidly reading the fast-moving words off the teleprompter with an ease granted by her sharpened senses and decades of practice. Her full lips curled up into a wicked smile, flashing the audience her pointed canines as their eyes widened in awe. As if it never got old. “After a long, distinguished career with the Seven…”

Katherina paused, just as the teleprompter instructed. The audience held their breath in anticipation. 

Stillwell raised a brow as the silence drew out. 

The woman took a deep breath, her throat threatening to close up. “I, Felina, have decided it’s time to file down my claws and retire.” 

“Let's give her a big ‘thank you.’” Madelyn said, cutting in with a picture-perfect smile painted on her lips. Goddamn cunt. You’re just counting down the fucking minutes, aren’t you? Katherina thought as she suppressed a glare, her smile widening instead. “What do you say? Thank you, Felina!”

Once the applause died down, the woman continued, “But now, as we turn towards the future, I'd like to introduce someone very special.” Her eyes narrowed in cringe at the next line. How fucking clever. “And I, for one, can't wait to see her shine. Please welcome, Starlight.” 

The woman stepped away from the podium with a tight smile, clapping her gloved hands together as her fresh-faced replacement was pushed on stage. 

Annie’s nerves seemed to be momentarily forgotten as time slowed down and she took in the sight of her childhood hero up close for the first time, committing to memory every mole and scar marring her pale-ivory skin. 

The most notable one was a faded pink scratch starting from above the bridge of her arched brow, running across her eye, and ending on the edge of her left cheekbone. Self-inflicted during the traumatic first manifestation of the crime boss’ daughter-turned-thief-turned-hero’s powers, if Annie remembered correctly.

A pointed look from Stillwell made Katherina sigh. She swallowed harshly and drew Starlight in for a friendly embrace once she approached.

Annie’s knees nearly gave out when she felt the woman wrap her long arms around her. She was sure Felina could tell how nervous she was, the beat of her hammering heart so loud, she wouldn’t be surprised if the audience could hear it too.

Katherina pulled away, releasing the younger woman before wiping her hands down her midsection to smooth out some nonexistent wrinkles. The loud pulsing of blood vessels in her ears was nearly deafening as it mirrored each thundering clap of applause from the audience. She dropped her head, making her signature contrasting hair fall in front of her face. 

She remembers how taken back she had been at the beginning of her time at Vought to see her condition be embraced in such a positive way, fully prepared to dye the hair until her scalp bled as Stillwell’s predecessor had planned. 

But the public had spoken, the striking color-blocking of light and dark being picked up by girls across the country in a rapid spread alternative trend of the early-90s when she officially debuted. 

The years had gone by so quickly. Katherina’s gaze grew distant. Now the symptom of her poliosis manifested in white highlight streaks throughout her voluminous layered locks, the only visible sign of her aging.

Felina’s dazzling smile seemed to falter, making Annie eye her curiously for a moment before she was guided by Stillwell to the podium. 

“Let’s give Felina one last round of applause,” Madelyn said, turning towards the woman with a shit-eating grin, her words laced with a deeper meaning. Just as quickly as it had gone, Felina’s irresistible smile returned. This time it didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you.”

Katherina nodded in appreciation before retreating off-stage in a daze, pushing past Ashley and her stupid fucking clipboard as a dull ringing absorbed her enhanced hearing. 

The woman sat calmly in the outside air, her fingers absentmindedly caressing the velvety pages of her worn book. She scanned hungrily through the printed words, as if reading them for the first time again. 

Her leg was bent to her chest, resting on the surface of the balcony’s balustrade while the other swung numbly over the edge, completely uncaring of the long distance down to the ground. No need to worry when she knew she’d always land on her feet. 

Katherina's head snapped up, feeling the energy shift in the air. A shiver crawled down her spine, raking each vertebra as it descended. 

A whoosh followed by a thud from behind her made her sigh. If not for the electrical impulses traveling lightning-fast through her nerves, quicking her reflexes, she definitely would have jumped. The loose-spined book in her grasp fell shut easily while she swiveled in her seat, facing the New York City skyline completely and letting both her feet dangle off the edge. 

“You’re what, now?” A deep voice called out. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

Katherina closed her eyes, pressing them tightly shut as she was once again painfully reminded of her fate. She smiled bitterly and whispered, “I found out this morning.”

“What?” He replied dumbly. 

Katherina took a deep breath, her throat burning with suppressed emotion. Pushing down the anger flaring up in her chest, she turned around and finally met John’s perplexed gaze. “Stillwell called me into her office this morning. Thought she’d pitch a rebranding of that fucking lingerie line again or some stupid shit like that. Imagine my surprise.” 

“This has to be some kind of mistake,” He said definitively, shaking his head as if he had any say in the matter. Oh, John. Even after all these years, you still haven’t learned your place. Katherina used her cat-like agility to slide elegantly off the balustrade and moved to slip past the man. A tight grip on her upper arm made her tense, claws threatening to come out. “You promised me, Kat. Don’t you remember? You promised me that you’d always have my back.”

The chemical plant’s remains surrounded him, still steaming. The scent of blood and smoke clinging to his nostrils was nearly suffocating. John narrowed his telescopic gaze on the woman desperately crawling towards the flashing red and blue lights in the distance.

Slicking back his stained golden hair, he turned and readied his laser gaze. A sudden shadow looming over the woman made him stop short. 

He watched as Noir helped her to her feet, meeting the fuming look in John’s red eyes with silence. 

The glow in them suddenly dissipated as John watched him take the woman’s head in his hands and snap her neck, letting her body limply fall off to the side.

John furrowed his brows. Noir approached him with his arms raised apprehensively. He felt his confusion grow when the masked man in front of him suddenly froze.

“A little trust goes a long way, John.” The young man’s eyes widened, taken back by the appearance of the familiar hero. She dropped down from her perch where she had been quietly observing their interaction and sauntered over to the men. 

John tilted his head, watching her intensely as she gingerly moved past the two before disappearing around the corner. His eyes widened again once he saw with his x-ray vision what she was hiding.

The cowering man yelped as she kicked him into view. 

“We’re a team now,” She trailed off, gently taking the man by the chin, ignoring his pleas. Her claws made a quiet ringing sound as they unsheathed, the razor-sharp, metal-plated nails growing on command in the blink of an eye. She positioned them on either side of his head, lightly digging into his scalp before raising her head and meeting John’s entranced gaze. “I’ve got your back, John.” A crack entered the air, the man’s body going limp in her grasp. “Always.”

“Of course I remember. This is Stillwell, not me.” She hissed, her faded Brooklyn accent reserved exclusively for off-camera getting thicker as her blood began to boil. Katherina tore her arm away from his hold before stepping back into the warmth of her den.

As detached as she felt from the luxuries that Vought provided, knowing it all came with a cost, the opulent two-story penthouse had become somewhat of a safe haven for her over the years. A sanctuary free from the cameras and the deceit, even if for a few moments. 

“I’ll talk to Madelyn and sort this out,” The man followed her inside, the vibrant color of his spandex suit a stark contrast to the dark minimalistic interior design of her home. “I’ll find a way, Kat. I promise.”

That’s what I’m worried about.

Katherina sat crouched in the cramped space, gazing down at the conference room through the slats in the ceiling vent’s metal grate. Simply watching.

She was too light on her feet for any of the Seven to detect her presence, but based on the glances she saw Noir keep throwing up at the ceiling, she knew he had his suspicions. Katherina inwardly sighed.

“Beginning to wonder if you'd even show up. I mean, all that pressure, it's a lot for anyone to swallow." She heard the Deep say, smugness tainting his words of concern. Her brows furrowed, carefully observing the man. Her vibrant emerald eyes narrowed as she saw his features light up with amusement before they widened with realization. That motherfucker.

“Yeah. Don't worry, I'll be fine. I'm here. And I'm not going anywhere. ” Her replacement—Starlight—replied. Katherina rose a perfectly-manicured brow, her intrigue spiking. The new model had a backbone, who would’ve thought?  She supposes there was some strange comfort in the fact that her place wasn’t being taken by a complete pushover. 

“Can we get back to this, please? This is a serious crime. These assholes pirated my movie three weeks before release...” Without fail, Katherina began to zone out as she always did when Translucent started talking. The woman elected to shift her focus elsewhere, like at the man seated at the head of the v-shaped table, who was being unusually quiet.

A spike in her nerves made her lean back and curl into herself, just as he turned his attention up at the ceiling. She heard him sigh, as if disappointed to find the space empty. She silently thanked the ingenuity of the zinc lining her suit.

“What the fuck? You got four points?” A-train exclaimed, bringing Katherina’s focus back on the conversation. 

“And clearly better lawyers…” Maeve interjected before taking a swig of her drink, making the corner of Katherina’s mouth twitch up in amusement. 

When her vision suddenly blurred, Katherina leaned back again, sitting on her heels as she blinked away the moisture gathering in her eyes. Fuck.

She’d miss the stupid fucking banter. She’d miss the exhilaration of riling up a crowd with just her presence. She’d miss the sidelong glances filled with yearning exchanged between her and Earving during the drawn-out team meetings.

Vought had taken so much already. Made her live her life under a microscope and threatening her with more pain and more suffering if she didn’t ‘behave’. Play the part of the brainless sex kitten of the Seven but be ready to bring out the claws when it was expected. 

How much had they given, but taken even more in return?

She didn’t stay until the end of the meeting.

…

Landing on the polished marble floor in the barren hallway, Katherina brushed the coat of dust off her hands and knees before beginning the short trek to Madelyn’s office.

The click of her heeled feet echoed around the hallway, the woman quickly slipping into her professional persona as continuing walking, greeting every faceless person she passed with her signature smile.

“Have a nice evening, Felina.”

“Good afternoon, Felina.”

“What’s up, Felina?”

Felina. Felina. Felina.

Jesus Christ, it’s a wonder how she made it so far without snapping at one of the members of Vought staff equally as fake as her. Katherina narrowed her almond-shaped eyes in a half-hearted attempt to hide her disdain.

The hair on the back of her neck suddenly stood on end as she sensed a presence on her tail. Katherina’s gaze hardened, mind now on the alert.

Turning the corner, Katherina made sure the coast was clear before leaping up, balancing herself over the hallway. The surface of the ceiling dug in around the tips of her sheathed claws. She quietly waited for the presence to follow after her and reveal themselves.

A darkly-costumed man soon came into view. Katherina pressed her eyes shut for a moment and allowed herself to slip down, landing without a sound on the tips of her feet behind him. The faint sound of her heels relaxing against the floor as she leaned back on them made the man pause, turning his head in the direction of the sound. “Noir.”

She saw him freeze. Katherina took a tentative step forward, taking him in as he shifted his body completely to face her. He tilted his head to the side, an unspoken question. 

“Stillwell’s orders. Speaking of which, I’ve got somewhere to be,” She answered dismissively, holding her breath as neared her old ‘friend’. She felt the ghost of a hand on her shoulder, gently halting her step. Katherina shook her head, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I’m sorry, Earving.”

He felt his throat tighten, wanting so desperately to talk to her. Beg her to stay. To not retreat into herself. He couldn’t lose her. Not her. Not again. 

She gently removed his hand and took it into her own, drawing imaginary patterns into the plates on his gloves before letting it fall to his side. 

“I’m sorry.”

That fucking bitch.

The meeting with Madelyn hadn’t gone at all how she anticipated. John had made good on his promise, so now she had to stick around and babysit the girl taking her place too. 

Katherina finally pulled on her black satin slip, taking care to not smudge the lotion freshly applied on her thick skin. The bright glare of her vanity lights made her expression fall as she ran her eyes over her creamy complexion. Focusing on the scars disfiguring her plump face. She sighed.

“Just to help Starlight get acclimated. We want to make the transition as smooth as possible." The older woman had said, the smile on her lips widening at the fire building in Katherina’s eyes. Why not start by giving me a little time to prepare then?

She finished her nightly routine almost robotically before slipping into the safety of her bed. Her eyes fell shut as soon as she made contact with the smooth texture of the silk covers.

To Be Continued...

[whenmondaycomes]

Full Name: Claire Monique Browning

Aliases: Clary (by The Boys)

Little One (by Frenchie and M.M.)

Love (by Billy)

Dear (by Billy)

Date Of Birth: August 4, 1991

Gender: Female

Species: Human

Affiliations: The Boys

Vought (Formerly)

Sexual Orientation: Straight

Partner: William "Billy" Butcher (Soulmate/Boyfriend)

Kevin "The Deep" Moskowitz (Ex Boyfriend)

Occupation: Vigilante

Family: Unknown Parents

Destiny Browning (Older Sister) (Deceased)

Evangeline Browning (Niece)

Sam Butcher (Father in Law) (Deceased?)

Connie Butcher (Mother in Law)

Lenny Butcher (Brother in Law) (Deceased)

Friends: William "Billy" Butcher (Best Friend/Love of Life)

Hugh Campbell (Best Friend)

Kimiko "The Female" Miyashiro (Best Friend)

Serge "Frenchie"

Marvin "M.M." Milk

Annie January

Enemies: Kevin "The Deep" Moskowitz (Ex Boyfriend/Nemesis)

John "Homelander" (Nemesis)

Klara "Stormfront" Risinger (Nemesis)

Nadia "Victoria" Neuman

Vought

The Seven

Citizenship: 🇺🇸 America

Status: Alive

[blushstories]

UR WRITING FOR BUTCHER NOW?! this is the best news i could have woken up to, vidia! the best news!!! can i request a billy x reader drabble where she wakes up from a nightmare and thinks that he’s been taken or killed etc bc he’s not beside her in bed. and so she’s panicking and frantic, stumbling around the safehouse to find him but then he’s just in the kitchen getting some water and a lot of comfort ensues? idk if i’m making sense here 😭

OH MY GOODNESS the way i had to write this IMMEDIATELY!!!!! your mind is unmatched rosa , and you always make sense don't even worry <3 (and AHH am thrilled you like the boys too!!)

cw: blood, swearing (ofc) , but if you watch the boys you won't be disturbed, 1.2k

The sheets are crumpled under your vice-like grip, eyebrows scrunched in the way that daylight never sees. With a start, you wake. But imprinted in the darkness of your bedroom are after-images of the horrors experienced behind your eyelids; the memory of which you can't seem to shake from your mind -- blood on the floor, a thick glossy trail leading somewhere, but you can't quite see where. Footsteps have carelessly marched through it, a superiority in their gait as speckles decorate the floor, as if it had been kicked through like a puddle.

Your stomach churns, heart aching because Billy was right there. An image of a shred of Homelander's cape caught on a nail flashes across your vision, and makes bile crawl up your throat as you fling your arm to the side, for reassurance.

You find none; it's cold.

You sit up, ramrod straight, and feel again. Maybe he's about to roll off the edge. "Billy?" You whisper, not wanting to disturb the darkness. Nothing. Just cool, cotton sheets underneath wandering fingers, covers thrown away without a care. A struggle? It fills your stomach with lead as you're unable to decide if you have just woken from a nightmare, or a dusty memory.

Deep breath.

You bite the inside of your lips while swinging your legs off of your bed hastily, skipping the slippers and accepting the icy concrete floor beneath your feet. The lights are on, illuminating the wooden beams that hold up the basement you're hiding out in. It's silent, and the silence eats at your stomach. The worry gnaws at you as you scan every room for a sign of something, anything. Anyone.

You're chewing on the tip of your finger with an arm wrapped around you and pinpricks behind your eyes. Everywhere is empty, empty, empty. Your walk morphs into something quicker, more urgent as each corner contains only the flickering of the overhead lights. Something possesses you to look under the couch, you trip over somebody's shoes and narrowly dodge a beam emerging from the floor.

Your breaths quicken, the lights flicker, you trip on air. Nothing feels right, or safe, or real.

Until you enter the kitchen. His broad frame hides the kitchen sink, one arm bracing himself on the countertop while the other elbow is pointed upwards as he drinks a glass of water. You could cry in relief, you could turn around and head back to bed, but that's unfathomable when every fibre of your being is being attracted to him like a magnet. A terribly strong magnet.

You collide with his back gently and wrap your arms around his middle. The force jolts him forwards with an 'oof,' and water splatters onto your hands and fingers.

There's a glassy clink on the countertops, and he shifts in your arms, standing straighter. Calloused hands feel along your own before fastening around your wrists gently, swiping a few times and then gently coaxing you to loosen your grip. He turns around in one step, slowly and concerned.

"You alright?" He says quietly, narrowed eyes flicking between your own as he assesses your shaken state. You nod with a sniffle, face crumpling in relief as you wrap your arms around him again. The thin cotton of his shirt allows you to hear his heartbeat, steady as a drum. Real.

While you listen closely, one of his arms wraps around your shoulders, and the other hand presses your head closer into him. His thumb continues to swipe against your temple and cheek in time with his pulse.

Thump, thump, thump.

"What's gotten into you?" He says, head bowed, concerned with a tint of urgency. You take a few breaths you calm yourself, and the hand on your shoulder tightens. You don't reply, shaking your head. He places both hands on your shoulders and creates a little space between you. Your own hands hold onto his wrists, swiping the underside of them to assure yourself that he's here, he's breathing. You look away, where countertop meets floor. He waits a moment, inhales deeply, and tries again.

"O-Okay, alright, it's alright," he soothes. "What's the matter?" With the knuckle of his index finger, he hooks your chin and encourages you to look at him. "You look like you've seen a bleeding ghost!" His gaze is steady, in control. Just as he always his. "For a second I thought I did," you admit, and at the deepening lines on his forehead you continue. "There's no dignified way to tell you I had a nightmare, is there?" You laugh wetly, deflecting any embarrassment with some sort of humour. But Billy's expression doesn't budge.

"What about?" You hesitate, but his hand squeezes your shoulder. "There was-- I was just--" You pause and start again. "There was Homelander, way too much blood... you. Then you disappeared. I didn't know what to do,"

For a split second, you can see flames behind his eyes, a murderous rage that always begins to boil when anybody mentions Homelander or Vought. But then, it's like he remembers himself and his position in front of you; his eyes soften, he presses his lips into a thin line and looks down. When he looks up at you again, the rage has vanished. Confidence and reassurance replaces it, hinting at the side of Billy Butcher reserved for you, and you alone.

"Now, don't you worry, love," he begins, "the fucking cunt won't do anything to me. To us. Especially not while we're holding Vought by the bollocks and waiting to squeeze after Starlight's stunt yesterday." You nod, wipe away the beginnings of any tears stirring in your eyes, and cup his face in your hands. He closes the gap before you have a moment to think, his tender movements telling you everything that he can't find the words to convey. You pull away after a few moments.

"What if something--" He silences you with another peck on the lips. "The 'what if's don't matter, Y/N. Right now does. I swear to you, I ain't got any plans to go anywhere." "But every time you meet Homelander, there's a chance that I won't see you again!" You say desperately, in a low voice. "Says who?" His tone is lighter, all of your worries like water off a duck's back. "Cos I know I don't."

"You promise not to do anything stupid around him?" Your hands drift to cup the back of his neck, fingers playing nervously with the tufts of hair that live there. His hands hold your waist lovingly, grounding you to the spot. "I promise, love," he says, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he sways a little on his feet. You raise an eyebrow, finding it difficult to believe him based on his history.

So, you pull a hand away from his neck and hold up a pinky finger in front of his face. You can tell it takes everything in him to not roll his eyes, or do something to that degree, but he sighs and hooks his finger with yours. You stand on your toes to get closer to his face. "Those are sacred, you know." "I know. You remind me every time, you muppet." "So, don't break it, please."

[itsstrange]

You Are Only Human

Fandom: The Boys

Relationship: Billy Butcher x SupeReader

A/N: This was originally published on my IG like.. three months ago? And since I’m currently procrastinating on finishing requests I thought I’d leave this one for y’all 🫶 I tried adding a few things but nothing too crazy hope y’all like it! 💚

Also this is a semi-spoiler if y’all haven’t seen the latest season, but if you’ve seen it, then you’re good!

Summary: After taking Compound V as a last resort, it has not been easy on the Brute.

Word Count: 1.9k

Warnings: (Yes-ish) Panic Attacks, Comforting, Angst, Butcher being Butcher, Butcher Struggling, Butcher Takes Com V, Small confession, Kissing.

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Enjoy 💔

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Finding Butcher standing in front of a mirror, dark eyes glaring at his own reflection, shoulders tensed, hands gripping either side of the sink with sweat visibly sliding down his neck, was nothing new. It has become an everyday thing with the Brute, and since it has becoming a regular occurrence you were able to spot the problem from a mile away. Like now for instance, you were making your way through the building, eyes scanning through the manilla folder in your hands when you heard a sound coming from the beaten up bathroom. Following the sound, your feet come to a stop by the entrance when you see the Brute hunched in front of the sink, shoulders tensed and shaking, hands gripping the sink and knowing right away he was having another episode. A panic attack.

After taking Compound V as a last resort, it has not been easy on the Brute. Constant anxiety and panic attacks, uncontrollable rage, strength, would occur on a daily. Weeks. It has been going on for weeks and only seemed to get worse, or at least that’s how the man felt. Of course he never told you this, would hate to admit the truth to you, about how he can barely breathe sometimes, the fear that is constantly hanging on his shoulders, not fear of what he can do, but of what he can do to you. He didn’t want to hurt you, would definitely avoid you if he can, but you were always there, with him, through it all, guiding him.

He didn’t understand why he kept having these episodes, why it seemed harder to control when he didn’t find it difficult when he took the temporary V, was it because it was natural? Stronger? Permanent? These were questions he didn’t have answers for. Yet, he wouldn’t be in this fucking mess, hyperventilating in front of a goddamn mirror, that he just punched the shit out of, if he’d just listen to M.M. If he’d just stop being a fucking cunt. For once. He wouldn’t be feeling this burning feeling in his veins, the rapid heartbeat in his chest, the urge to just let go, he should’ve stopped. He should’ve Fucking stopped.

“Butcher..Control it,” You tell him with a firm tone, causing a shuddering exhale to leave the man’s mouth,

His orange beams continue to look at you through the shattered mirror, until he shuts his eyes tightly and lets his head hang low as he tries to breathe in and out. But each time he tried inhaling through his nose, just like you had taught him, he’d feel it getting caught in his throat, making the heaviness in chest stronger, making everything around him close in. Fuck. He definitely does not miss this, last time he had a panic attack this severe was when he came back home from the military, he was a total mess, but just like you, he had Becca at the time.

The sound of the sink cracking against his hands can be heard as his grip only tightens, he really couldn’t fucking breathe, it was getting harder by the minute, his eyelids were burning from the urge to just let go, and the anger that was becoming stronger was not helping.

“Butcher,” You try again as you take a step closer to him, but that only made his attack worse,

“Leave,” He harshly spits out, still trying to intake deep breaths, even if it sounds as if he gasping for air,

“Fight it,” You ignore him as you continue to push him, to try and get him to take control, he’s done it before, multiple times, he just needs to find his way to the wheel again,

“Fucking leave, (Y/n),” Please! He mentally begs you as he shakes his head,not wanting you to be next to him at the moment, fearing he was finally going to lose control and actually hurt you,

But you didn’t. You were still there, firmly demanding him to breathe, to grab ahold of the wheel, and that he was not alone. You made sure he knew he was not alone. You, out of anyone else knew what he was going through, you once were new with your abilities as well. Learning how to use and control them for the first time was definitely difficult, it was a challenge to keep them hidden, especially at school, not being able to use them against your bully to show them your not one to fuck with was definitely hard. Especially when you too struggled with anger, it only made it harder to control, but eventually, you learned to control it.

Standing right next to him you can see the way the sink begins to crack against his grip, hair damped with sweat, shoulders tensed and shaking as he tries to gather his breathing. It hurt you, just like any other day, to see him this way. It hurt to see him so vulnerable, insecure, scared, instead of his ruthless, brutal self. But, it just showed just how human he still was.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You tell him, finally meeting those bright, orange beam eyes of his, they glowed brightly at you as if to intimidate you, but all you saw was fear, all you saw was Butcher,

“Please. Get out,” Butcher finally begs you, glowing eyes pleading at you, hands tightening their grip on the sink when he only feels the heaviness getting stronger in his chest,

He exhales with a shake of his head, eyes shutting tightly to get them to stop, but the moment he lets his head dangle he feels warm, slim fingers finding their way underneath his jaw, forcing his head back up. Causing his eyes to open, which were still glowing brightly.

“Look at me,” Is all you tell him before inhaling deeply through your nose and slowly letting it back out through your mouth,

He continues to stare at you, glowing eyes averting from your mouth to your eyes, “We’ve done this before.. we can do it again,”

At your words, your other free hand settles softly onto his. Fingers slowly easing his grip on the sink then holding his hand the moment he finally lets go. The whole time you slowly tried prying his grip away, you kept eye contact with him as you continued doing breathing exercises with him. Before he even knew it, his whole body was now turned towards you, both hands holding your own as he leaned against the near shattered sink. In a matter of minutes, his orange beams slowly began fading away, being replaced by those familiar beautiful hazel orbs of his that remained holding eye contact with you.

You slowly nod your head at him, “That’s it. Breathe,”

And he does just that. Breathing with you, holding your hand, hazel eyes staring directly at you, not once looking away. Even after his breathing and heart rate had settled down, he still remained leaning against the sink, hands holding on to your own. You knew he would soon lock himself out, it was only matter of time before he pushed you away from embarrassment just like he usually would after composing himself, but before he can even avert your eyes, you let your hand settle on his bearded cheek, forcing his eyes to lock onto yours. Gently brushing away a tear stain with your thumb from his skin, you tell him the words that you think he should know.

“You’re only human, Butcher,” Your (E/c) eyes hold contact with his hazel ones as you continue, “Having panic attacks and fear doesn’t make you weak… it just means you’re still human,”

You give him a small sincere, warm, comforting smile as you gently tap his cheek with your thumb. However, as you dropped your hand from his cheek and began walking away to give him the space he wants, a firm hand is grasping onto your wrist, stopping you from taking a another step. The sudden action has you looking up at him, watching the way his hazel orbs are staring at you with an unreadable look.

Butcher continues to stare at you in silence, firm fingers still curled around your wrist, then with a small voice he says, “Why the fuck do yer stay?”

Wasn’t exactly what he wanted to say, but it was definitely what he kept asking himself. Why did you stay? Why would you waste your breath on him? He’s hurt you and the rest of the boys countless times, and yet, you’re still here. With him. He’s done nothing but bring you pain, he didn’t deserve your help. He didn’t deserve you.

“Because I know what you’re going through… and you shouldn’t be going through it alone,” You tell him, gazes not once parting from each other,

Something in his eyes switch, turning firmer as he lowers his head, voice slightly gruff with his next words, “I’m not worth it,”

A small smile tugs on your lips, the same smile you always give him when you know something he doesn’t, and that honestly frustrates him the fuck out. But it was your next words that make his blood freeze.

“You are to me,” He remains staring at you with a dumbfounded look, his grip on your wrist slightly loosening, but before he can even think of anything to say back you beat him to it, “I’ll go make you a tea,”

At your words you easily slip your wrist from his hold and walk out the room without another word, without hesitation. He didn’t know it but you too were close to having a panic attack yourself, you had just revealed your feelings for him without meaning to. It just came out smoothly and now you had to get away from him before he can say anything, before he can reject you.

He watched your frame disappear, mind replaying your words, heart sinking and floating back up to his chest as he weights your words. Then, before he even knows it he’s pushing himself off the sink and storming his way towards the little lunch area in the building where you had your back facing him as you leaned your hands against the counter.

As you were waiting for the kettle, mentally cursing at yourself for even saying what you did a couple minutes ago, you didn’t hear the way Butcher stomped his way to you until you’re being turned around by strong hands. The sudden movement makes a small noise to leave from your throat, but was quickly muffled when a pair of lips land on yours, turning it into a choked moan. Your eyes grew wide for a moment as your mind tried comprehending what is happening, but when it finally registered realize it was Butcher’s lips who were nervously molding with yours, you immediately reacted back. Fingers finding their way to his long locks at the base of his neck as you deepen the kiss. A breath of relief fans against your skin, feeling the way Butcher only holds you tighter against his chest, hands firmly holding you from your back as he too deepens the kiss.

You two remained that way, savoring and holding each other for what seemed like an hour, but in reality it was only 10 minutes.

However, the sound of voices coming from the entrance, halts both your movements, then before you know it Butcher lifts you off the ground, causing your legs to automatically wrap around his torso as he leads you both away from the miniature kitchen. How did he manage to sneak past the gang without getting noticed? You had no idea and could careless about it, only thing you did cared about was the man in your arms, and nothing else.

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Tag List: @tiannamortis @lmarina2000 @would-die-for-bucky-barnes @strangesgirl @disneyoncerlover815

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-Hope y’all enjoyed this one! I’ll definitely try and finish the request as soon as I can!

-So make sure to Turn On Post Notifications!!🔔 To not miss out on the next publication!! Love Ya!!

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[zepskies]

And So It Goes - Part 20

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

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

AN: We’re almost to the end!

Word Count: 5,000

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

ASIG Series Masterlist

20: Father & Son

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

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

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

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

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

“Ryan!” she gasped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Why’re you up, anyway?” Ben asked.

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

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

“Knew what?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

Deep down, he could relate.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you crazy?!” he asked.

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

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

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

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

“Ben, stop!” she shouted.

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

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

Ben knew it…and found himself conflicted.

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

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

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

Helena and Ben shared one last look.

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

“What’re you doing here?” he asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Please! I need your help,” she said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Too many.

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

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

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

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

On that, they could agree.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop!” he pleaded. “Don’t hurt her!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Slowly Homelander’s head turned. 

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

His eyes took on a red, glowing hue.

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

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

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

When and how the fuck did she take Temp V?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Stop,” he said. “Please just stop.”

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

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

Butcher grabbed Ryan’s jacket.

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

“It’s okay,” he said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And here, Ben finally saw his chance. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Goddamn it,” Ben growled. 

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

Ben blasted him with everything he had.

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

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

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

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

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

“You okay?” she asked.

Ryan smiled a little a nodded. “Yeah.” 

She smiled back. “Good.”

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

But the common denominator of it all was this.

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

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

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

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

Butcher sighed, wiping a hand over his tired face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She frowned at him with furrowed brows.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Helena sighed with a smile, shaking her head. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Maybe next time, sweetheart,” said Ben.

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

“Goodbye, Helena.”

And then he was gone.

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

We're at the end, folks.

Next Time:

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

They were home.

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

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

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

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

“Incoming,” he muttered.

Keep Reading: Epilogue

The Boys Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[assortedseaglass]

Come Back To Me - Chapter Four

Billy Washington x OFC

[Masterlist]

Warnings: 18+ Language, References to Racism, Trigger Point (TV) Spoilers.

Author’s Note: I love writing Billy and Ida together. They live so vividly in my mind, it’s always easy to imagine how they would interact with each other. I’m still a little ill and my computer crashed, so if there’s mistakes forgive me, it’s a been a rubbish few days!

The next morning, Ida woke to the sound of Sofia outside her bedroom door.

“Ida? It’s almost lunch. You want a cuppa?”

She rolled over, rubbing at her eyes and calling back. “Yeah, go on then.” She’d fallen asleep with her curtains open, and they bustled lightly in the welcome breeze. Midday light filled her room and she looked around. Stacks of books were piled on her desk and the floor; some for her PhD, some for pleasure. At the top of the pile by her bed was a battered copy of Graham Greene’s The End of the Affair. Billy bought it for her at a flea market last summer. Ida had fallen in love with the cover; a man and woman leaning against a wall, lit by a lamppost, but she’d spent her last change on an ice cream.

There were pictures on the wall. One of her and Billy at Cranstead Fields aged twelve, a few of her and her grandma in the garden. Some from university, when she’d first met Sofia, even one of Sofia and Faisal smiling at each other. A vase of flowers sat on the bedside table, past their best, the petals scattered around her car keys. Shit.

Ida grabbed her phone. One text. One.

Sorry about last night. Too much to drink x

He’d sent it two hours ago. Was that it? She rang him as soon as she’d read the message.

Hi, it’s Billy. I’m not around so leave us a message and I’ll get back to you. Cheers.

This wasn’t Billy. At least, not the one that Ida knew. So distant and aloof. The hairs on the back of her neck bristled. Something must have happened last night. Jeff probably said something that made Billy drink too much. Desperate to see if he was ok, she called the only person she could think of.

Ida waited, praying she’d answer. Just as she was about to hang up, a voice spoke on the other end of the line. “Ida?”

“Hiya Lana. You’re not busy, are you?”

She heard the other woman sigh. “I’m at work, actually.”

“Shit. Sorry. After last night?”

“You what?”

“I was meant to pick Billy up from the wake. I went to the pub and a guy, Has I think he was called, said you’d hit the deck.” Sofia snuck into the room and placed a mug of tea by Ida’s bed.

“Yeah, well, too much to drink I guess.” She sounded resigned. Rough.

“If you can’t drink at your best mate’s funeral, when can you?”

Lana chuckled softly. “Look, Ida, I haven’t really got the time to be dealing with whatever Billy’s done now-“

“What do you mean?” A cold dread crept up Ida’s neck.

“Has he not told you?”

“I was phoning you to see if you’d heard from him.”

“Fuck’s sake, Billy,” Lana muttered through her teeth.

“Lana, what’s happened!?”

*

Billy’s head was pounding. Sure, he was hungover and sleeping on the hard bench of the cell hadn’t helped, but the words that John had spat last night were still rumbling around his mind. Something about setting Billy up with some of his English Flag mates. Knows what she’s saying, that Agatha Jack. Then the jammy bastard ran off before the police arrived and left Billy in the lurch.

He glanced down at his knuckles, which were bloody and torn. Billy winced as he pulled his keys from his pocket, catching the wound, and put them in the door. It was already unlocked. “Becky?” he called into the flat, setting down his plastic bag of Berocca, paracetamol and orange juice. He heard heavy footsteps racing from the bedroom. The door swung open and a wild-haired ball of fury burst out.

“A HALAL BUTCHERS!?” Ida screeched like a banshee. She ran at him, pushing him back by the shoulders. “What the hell were you doing!?”

“That’s what Lana said.” He didn’t know what else to say.

“WELL!?” Billy had seen Ida like this before. But that was at other boys, never him. Her dark eyes were wide and red, as though she’d been crying. Flyaway curls were sticking in every direction, and her normally pale cheeks were flushed, like she’d been slapped. The clothes she wore, a wrap skirt and black t-shirt were creased, and her chest was heaving with the exertion of shouting. She hadn’t looked like this for years, and Billy gave her an awed smile. He’d missed the wildness in her that she’d left in her teenage years.

Ida’s voice dropped and she whispered dangerously, “There better be a good reason you’re smiling, Billy Washington.”

“You look nice,”

“What THE ACTUAL FUCK is wrong with you?” The compliment was not lost on her, but now was not the time. She’d store that little moment for later.

“Don’t.” Billy muttered and moved towards the lounge.

“Don’t you walk away from me! Lana said you’d been arrested for smashing a window.” She thundered after him, pausing when she saw the room. “Christ, it’s like a pigsty in here,” Beer cans were tipped over on the floor, his guitar close to falling over. Ida nearly stood on a photo frame. It was of Billy and his family at Lana’s passing out. It was by the sofa, like he had been staring at it. She glanced from the photo to Billy. He was already looking at her, a sad, unreadable expression on his face. Ida sighed, opened the curtains and then a window. Time to try a different tack. Sitting gently on the sofa, she took his battered hand in hers and kissed his knuckles.

“What’s going on, Bill? Talk to me. Please.”

“I don’t know,” he leant his head on her shoulder. “It’s just…fuck.” Billy rubbed the back of his neck. Ida waited. Billy was a man of action. He always struggled to find the right words at times like these. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Ida’s phone rang.  

“It’s gran, shit. I was meant to head over this afternoon.” She looked at Billy, who was smiling sadly.

“Go. Go on, can’t keep Gwen waiting.”

Ida hesitated. “I’ll come back on my way home, ok?” She squeezed his hand and stood from the sofa. Billy’s didn’t let go of her. “Ok? Try and clean up a bit yeah? Flat’s a right state.”

*

It was late afternoon by the time Ida pulled up outside her grandma’s house. She was in the front garden, watering her potted plants and dead heading the nasturtiums. The pink sky lit her white hair like candyfloss, and Ida was happy to simply watch her awhile. The front door of the neighbours’ house opened, and Val Washington came out with two mugs of tea, nodded to Ida, and passed one over the fence to Gwen.

“You want one, love?” Val called as Ida got out the car and opened the boot.

“You’re alright, thanks Val.” Carrying two bags of compost from her car to her grandma, Ida dropped them and kissed her on the cheek.

“Pop them in the back garden love, ta.” She made her way round the small path to the back garden. Jeff was outside, pottering in the greenhouse. Wiping the sweat off his shining head, he shouted to her.

“Hiya, Ida love! You’re looking well.”

“Thanks,” she smiled at him. “Just come from seeing Billy, actually.”

“Oh right? How’s his head this morning? Not too hungover?” Ida looked at him. He didn’t look at all angry, he looked exasperated. They don’t know.

“Uh, yeah, bit hungover. Sounded like a good send off for Nut, though.” Jeff nodded simply in response, removed his gardening gloves and he too made his way back to the front of the house.

When Ida joined her grandma, and Jeff joined Val in their respective front gardens, she heard her grandma say, “Your Billy looked ever so smart in his suit yesterday. He’s a handsome lad,” Something in Ida’s core tightened. Billy in a suit. His broad shoulders filling out the jacket, the collar tight beneath his Adam’s apple. The trail of buttons leading to his waist…

“Shame it’s a rare occurrence, dopey sod.” Jeff’s voice invaded Ida’s daydream and she tutted. Jeff looked right at her and Val slapped his arm lightly.

“I’ll tell him you said that, Gran. He’ll be dead chuffed.”

“You off to see him, love?” Val cut in as Ida opened her car door.

“Yeah, he’s a bit worse for wear today. Had a few too many last night I think!” The older women laughed. Jeff had already begun making his way back into the house. “Love you, Gran.” Ida pulled away from the curb, arm waving out the window. Her mind went immediately to Billy, as it always did. She turned on the radio, anything to distract her from thoughts of Billy in his suit.

“-it is believed that those responsible for the blast are the same group behind the Westhaven Estate terror attack.” Ida’s blood ran cold. “Amburiq Mosque was evacuated after a suspicious package was discovered inside. Father of two, Ali Hussein, is believed to be the only fatality.”

Ida listened to the news all the way to Billy’s. When she arrived, she sent a text to Lana.

Heard the news, where you there? Hope you’re ok, I xxx

She let herself in with the spare key and found Billy in the kitchen. “Good timing,” he said. “Kettle’s just boiled.” He handed a cup of tea to Ida and made his way to the bedroom, lying down on the freshly made bed. “How’s Gwen?”

“Good,” Ida said from the doorway. “Said you looked good in your suit. “Handsome”, she said.” Billy’s head snapped up. Even though it was Gwen’s compliment, his face flushed at hearing Ida say it. She got on the bed and they sat for a while, silently sipping their tea. After a minute, Billy spoke in a quiet rasp.

“Have to go to the police station in two weeks.”

Here it was. The massive elephant in the room. Ida took a steadying breath. “What are they charging you with?”

“Racially aggravated assault,” he whispered. When Ida stared ahead without speaking, he continued with a sigh. “I left with some of the other blokes, and then John just started saying this stuff-“

“Who’s John?”

“One of the army blokes Lana works with. You know what he told me? That the people at Westhaven were speaking Arabic. And that they are working on the assumption that it’s an Islamist group,”

“But Billy-“

“And then he started talking about Nut, you know? That could have been Lana. It could have been me in there, carrying Lana’s coffin.” Billy was up from the bed, pacing around the room with a frenzied look in his eyes.

“Billy-“

“They come over here and, and-”

“Wash!” Ida shouted, standing up. “They’ve bombed a mosque.” She added quietly. Billy stopped. He was facing away from her but she could see his chest rising and falling. “It was on the news on the way over.”

“Don’t call me Wash.”

“What?” Whatever response Ida was expecting, it wasn’t that and it took her a moment to truly hear what Billy had said.

“It’s what everyone calls Lana. One of the blokes at the wake, he called me Mini Washington.”

This time it was Ida who didn’t know how to respond. She threw her hands up and shook her head in an awkward movement. Billy stared at her.

“Why did you do it, Billy?”

“We’re at war.” He said, so matter-of-factly that Ida laughed.

“You what?”

“We’re at war.”

“With halal butchers?” Billy winced and she was glad he felt stupid.

“You know who I mean, Ida.”

Her blood started to boil. This isn’t the gentle boy she grew up with. Who helped her grandma plant her garden on Saturday afternoons. Who held her hair back when she drank too much cider at fifteen. Who picked her up from dodgy dates and listened to her talk about what she’d been reading, or learnt at uni, for hours on end.

“What about Faisal?”

“You what?” He looked at her like she’d gone mad.

“You gonna go after him too?”

“Ida.” Billy stepped toward her. “They don’t care who they get. They come over here-“

“Do you know why they come over here Billy?” She closed the distance and hissed into his face. “They left because their homes are being torn apart by war. And why did the wars start? Because some politician in his cushty house decided so. And who sent Lana and Nut to war, to defend the people you’re so angry at? That same politician, who is supplied weapons to the ones that Lana had to fight every day.”

Billy knocked her shoulder as he shoved past her and made his way into the flat hallway. Ida followed and said, “Look, I know you’re angry, and I know it’s hard right now-“

“What would you know!?” Billy span around so quickly that Ida staggered. “You’re perfect,” he spat at her. Any thought that Ida had disappeared with the shuddering breath that left her lungs. “You’re off at uni making something of yourself. You’ve got friends, you’ve got your family-“

“So do you,” Ida was desperate now. She reached an arm out to Billy but he pushed her away.

“Stop it, Ida. They don’t care.”

“Yes they do!”

“I suppose you saw them today? When you went to your gran’s?”

“Yes,” she said meekly. She knew him. She knew where this was going.

“And!? Bet dad couldn’t say any thing nice.” When Ida didn’t respond he cackled, eyes beginning to water. “See!?”

“They’re just worried about you,”

“No they’re not,”

“Yes they are!” Her voiced cracked. “You’re so wonderful, Billy. They just get frustrated that you can’t see it.”

“Stop.”

“No. YOU STOP!” Ida pushed his shoulders with all the strength she could. Billy barely moved. “Who’s the one that said they’d pick you up from the wake? Who’s been over twice today to make sure your sorry arse is alright? And what about Lana? I’m sure she was dead chuffed about picking you up from the police station. But she still did it!”

Billy growled and violently kicked the wall. Ida continued. “I’ll tell you who isn’t here. Your new pal John. Or Becky.”

“Yeah, well, you’ll be glad to hear that she’s finished with me,” he said bitterly. “For good.”

“Good.”

“Don’t you want me to be happy!?”

“Can you seriously tell me that she made you happy?”

“What is your problem, Ida?”

“My problem!? I’m not the one going around getting arrested and shutting myself off from every-”

Billy advanced on Ida at lightning speed. She stumbled backwards and her back hit the wall. “Did you ever stop to think, Ida?” He spat the words at her. “That I’m not shutting myself off from everyone.” His arms slammed into the wall either side of her head, trapping her in. “Just you!”

It wasn’t a lie. That was why he’d invited Becky to the pub. It was why he rarely visited her flat anymore. The wild little girl he’d met over the fence of his parents’ house had become a wild young woman; hot-headed, full-hearted and so, so beautiful. Billy always knew Ida would leave him behind, he’d just sped up the process.

He was drawn out of his anger when her hot breath fluttered across his neck. Billy was still towering over her, pinning her body against the wall. Ida wasn’t looking at him. Instead, her eyes were glassy and staring straight ahead. Sensing that his anger had stilled, she looked up. Her dark eyes were wide, hot tears threatening to spill over her pale cheeks and wash away the freckles. The space below Billy’s ribs burned. He licked his lips, ready to take it all back. But as he did so, Ida’s eyes darted to where his tongue had flicked over his plush lips. When she looked back up at him her eyes were dark, her own lips parted. Fuck. Bracing his arms against the wall, Billy leant towards her, pressing his weight against her torso. Ida’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes at the sound. A small sob shattered the quiet, and when Billy looked back at Ida, he saw her tears overflowing, her face downcast. Not like this.

“Fuck,” he hissed as his fist slammed into the wall by Ida’s head. She jumped and watched him walk away from her. Trembling, she steadied her sobs looked to where Billy’s hands had been seconds before. A smattering of blood speckled the clinically white wall. She sighed and made her way to the bathroom.

Billy was curled on his bed when she returned. Sitting down beside him, she took his hand in hers. Billy watched her, neither of them speaking. Ida unravelled the tattered bandage, revealing the freshly opened wounds there. She cleaned the skin, tied his knuckles with a fresh dressing and bent to kiss them lightly. They sat there a moment and just as Billy opened his mouth to speak, Ida stood to leave. Before she closed the door behind her, she turned to him and said.

“I love you, Billy. I just don’t know if I like you anymore.”

Notes: Ooft. It’s gonna keep kicking off in the next chapter – a certain someone is in for a bollocking. Can’t wait to share it.

Tags: @jessssica1234 @anditsmywholeheart @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternett @aemonds-wifey

[enchantedflameandflower]

Glimmer 26/? Billy Butcher fic

Thank you so so so much for still reading ♥ Please leave a comment if you're able!

Tag List: @2dead2function @secretdreamlandmentality

Billy Butcher Masterlist

_____

Chapter 26

Addison let out a heavy sigh as she fumbled to get her key in her apartment door. She finally managed to slide it in, shuffling into her loft warily and pushing the door shut behind her. She felt like she barely had the energy to do even that. She rubbed at her forehead then let her arms fell to her sides and she dropped her bag to the hardwood floor without a second thought.

"Fuck," she groaned under her breath, glancing toward her bathroom. A hot shower was desperately needed but there was no way she could manage it.

Addison slumped to sit on her bed, pulling off her boots, then her jacket and shirt, her mind losing focus completely.

Suddenly the rising sun glinted off a nearby high-rise and through the window, slanting across her face and it broke her out of her stupor. She had no idea how long she'd even been sitting there. Sighing again, she managed to stand and find a loose tank top and some shorts to change in to and then she fell back into bed, sound asleep within moments.

When she woke again it was dark and she was barely conscious even as she got up for a drink of water and headed to her bathroom after. She forced herself to take a shower but as she finished she felt even more exhausted than she had when she'd come home. She pulled the same tank top and shorts on and climbed back into bed. Part of her wished Billy was there to hold her but she was asleep again before she could even really linger on the thought.

Addison didn't wake when the sun rose and began to set again.

She didn't wake at the sound of soft footfalls outside her door.

And she didn't wake when her loft started to fill with gas.

_____

Butcher cursed out loud as he called Addison's phone then cursed again as it went straight to voicemail once more. The sound of her voice on the message made his heart clench with desperation and anguish.

He hung up and called MM next.

"How the fuck would I know where she is, Butcher?" MM answered angrily. "What the fuck is wrong with you, man?"

"Addi ain't answering her fuckin' phone and I wanna know what the bleedin' hell is goin' on," he growled back.

"Listen, Butcher, you need to get it together man. I told you she would be pissed as hell. She probably blocked your ass."

Billy rubbed his hand over his jaw before his shoulders slumped and he dropped his chin. "No," he shook his head and a new feeling of cold dread washed over him. How he wished that were the case. "I know that ain't it, MM. She gave me her word. Her phone's always charged. If she were going to block me she woulda just said so. Somethin's gone south."

"Fucking hell man…" MM gave a heavy sigh. "Fine. I'll meet you at her place but it's only to keep her from killing you."

MM was waiting outside Addi's apartment building when Billy pulled up and another swell of dread and guilt rushed through him. He knew then that MM cared more about them then Billy ever would have guessed to have gotten to her place so quickly.

When Butcher met him on the sidewalk, his friend must've seen something in his eyes, because he nodded, serious now, before he finally spoke. "We'll find her, Butcher. I promise. She'll be okay."

Billy's phone rang though before they even got to the elevator and his hand trembled when he saw it was Mallory.

"Yeah," he answered gruffly.

"William. They have her address. Her apartment number."

His heart stopped dead. "I'm here now. I'll call ya back."

He would fucking kill anyone that even thought of getting near her but in the back of his mind he knew it was already too late.

MM read the expression on his face and together they rushed to her. The door was just barely ajar and Butcher swore as he shoved it open, pulling his gun out. Remnants of the gas still lingered in the air, and both him and MM pulled their shirts up over their mouth and nose to help block it out.

Her blankets were strewn across the floor and he could see even from the doorway Addison wasn't in the bathroom or on the balcony. It felt like his heart was racing and stuttering to a stop all at once and he felt sick with grief. If anything… if she…

"Stay here and cover me," MM said. It would be no good to have them both go into the apartment in case there was enough of the chemical left in the air to knock them out. Billy kept one eye on the hallway and one on MM, but after a moment MM shook his head. No Addison and not a clue to who had taken her.

Back in the hallway, MM called Mallory to let her know what happened. She told them to come in to her office and ordered a team to take their place, to search for any more evidence and check the security tapes.

Billy felt like he was in a fog. He would slaughter everyone in this city if that's what it took to get her back, and if she was already gone he'd do it anyway.

But then MM laid a hand on his shoulder and Butcher forced himself to take a breath as he met his friend's gaze. That wasn't what Addison would want. He had to hold himself together for her, if for nothing else. At least he would fucking try. For now.

They sat in a room at the CIA office downtown for what felt like hours, combing through every shred of information they had. Mallory wouldn't let Billy near the guy they brought in the night before. Probably for the better because he felt like he could rip the cunt apart with his bare hands. But he truly didn't seem to know anymore anyway.

A rage unlike any he'd felt in a long time was starting to bubble up inside of him and Billy felt like he was going to fucking explode. "Fucking hell," he growled, standing as he finished reading the same notes for the third time and he sent his chair flying across the room to crash into the wall. MM didn't even flinch, but he did look up.

"I've gotta get out of this fuckin' building, MM. I need to be lookin' for her."

"Butcher - " MM stood but just then the door opened and Mallory came in. Billy half expected her to call him out for the chair, but her face was ashen, her eyes wide.

"We received a text on Andrews' phone. It's a link. I think it's a live feed..." she jerked her head down the hall.

They followed her to another room with screens plastered over the wall, and Grace nodded her head at a technician, who started typing then glanced up to the big screen in the middle.

It was dark at first, hard to make anything out. "What the holy fuck is this?" Butcher snarled.

Grace started to speak but was cut off when a dim light finally flicked on in the picture of the video feed, pointed to the middle of the room. Addison was tied with her hands above her head, hanging from the ceiling and slumped over, barely coherent, barely able to stand, ragged, dirty and bruised.

"Get a location on this feed!" Mallory barked. Butcher stepped closer as if he would be able to see more. Then a figure appeared just barely in frame, still swathed in darkness with a low dark laugh to match.

He came closer to Addison, closer to the light. He was thin, tall, wearing a black suit and a full black ski mask over his face. He lifted his hand and the light glinted off the shiny metal of a knife. He put the tip under her chin, lifting it so she was facing the camera.

She moaned, trying to open her eyes and the man laughed again, then trailed the tip of the knife down over the flat of her chest, a thin line of red appearing in its wake. "This is gonna be fun," he laughed again.

Butcher exploded, spinning around and roaring to Mallory, MM, the entire room. "If anything - ANYTHING happens to her I fucking swear I will BURN this entire fucking city to the ground!"

_____

Chapter 27

If you have time to let me know your thoughts or even the tiniest comment it would make my whole year!

If you have any asks for Billy and Addision, anything for any time period I would LOVE that! Let me know!

[avastrasposts]

The British Connection - ch. 13**

Took me long enough, but this chapter finally has some smut 😄

Cross posting this properly on Tumblr for the first time so it's been scheduled out throughout the day:

The plot follows MI6 agent Eve Edwards as she's assigned to help Billy Butcher and The Boys take down a new type of supe killing politicians on both sides of the pond. Not much fluff in this, plenty of canon typical violence, smut and extreme amounts of Britishness

Read on Ao3

“Fuck,” Eve sighed and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “That’s the second time you’ve seen me cry in three days, Billy.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve ‘ad a rough time of it.” Butcher gave her shoulder another squeeze and on impulse he bent down and kissed the top of her head resting on his shoulder. “And I like how you’ve started callin’ me ‘Billy’. Am I growin’ on you darlin’? No more ‘Butcher’?”

“I guess we’re on a first name basis now,” Eve said and sat up straight again, lifting her head from his shoulder, Butcher kept his hand on her shoulder so that she still sat close to him. His big hand was comforting as he held her and she could feel the warmth radiating off his body where they touched.

“Ye, I’m not callin’ you “Genevieve”, darlin’, “ he chuckled and Eve smiled.

“Only my grandparents called me ‘Genevieve’, it’s just ‘Eve’.”

“Eve, I can do, nice an’ simple.”

Eve looked up at him and gave him another smile before she put her hand on his hand on her shoulder and gave it a squeeze.

“Thanks for being human for a bit, Billy,” she said and stood up as she let go of his hand. Butcher watched her move over to the monitor, adjusting one of the dials before she stretched, arms over her head and yawning big.

Billy scooted his chair back in position and grabbed the thermos on the console.

“Coffee? Might do you some good, luv.”

“Thanks, that would be great.”

Butcher pulled out a couple of paper cups and poured the coffee for them.

“I’ve gotta tell ya, all those names you’ve got, a load of bollocks. Why would anyone ever do that to a wee one?”

“Tradition, I guess,” Eve said as she twisted herself to stretch her back muscles. “Genevieve was my great grandmother, apparently she was a lady-in-waiting to Queen Victoria so I guess they wanted to keep that tradition,” Eve snorted loudly. “Horatia was my other great grandmother, a family name so apparently that one just had to be included. Daphne was my mother’s name so I guess that’s the most normal one.”

She sat down again, propping her feet up on the console. “I’m just grateful Genevieve can be shortened to Eve. Most people only know me as Eve Edwards.”

“Ye, Eve’s not too bad, the rest of them you can get rid of I reckon.” Butcher said, handing her a mug of coffee.

“Thanks Billy,” She accepted it gratefully. “I’m guessing you’re really ‘William’?”

“Ye, but that one doesn’t get used a lot. Generally, only when I’m in real trouble,” he chuckled with a mischievous grin at Eve.

“So all the time then?” Eve smirked, poking his side with her finger and he swatted it away with a smile.

“I stay out of trouble, I only get into trouble when I want to, like with you.” He gave her a look that made her stomach fill with butterflies, his double meaning plainly obvious.

“You’re flirting again, Billy,” she said, feeling herself blush as Billy turned in his chair and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees so that he was closer to her. “You were going to keep it serious while we’re on business.”

“We’ve got many hours left, gorgeous, let me entertain us a little at least,” he said, his voice lower now, as he reached out and caught her jaw in his big hand the way he’d done at the office. The pad of his thumb grazed across her bottom lip again and it sent sparks down to her core, making her press her thighs together.

Eve swallowed hard and found herself unable to look away from Billy’s dark eyes as he smiled at her. He was moving his chair closer again and she saw his eyes linger on her lips before looking up at her again. His thumb left her lip and he ran it along her jawline, sliding down over her throat as his big hand grabbed the back of her neck. Eve felt as if her heart was about to either stop or break out of her chest.

Only the sudden crackle of one of the monitors broke the tension as they both turned to look at the dark hotel room. Nothing moved in the room but Butcher dropped his hand from Eve’s neck and turned his attention to the dials, adjusting one to brighten the screen.

For a few minutes they intently watched all monitors, scanning them for any sign of McKay, but nothing showed. Eventually Butcher leaned back in his chair again.

“Alright, I’ll keep it serious,” he said, “no more flirting. For now”. The last was said with a grin and Eve felt herself exhale slowly, feeling the tension in the van simmer down. Billy’s attention seemed to have a dangerous effect on her and she felt it cloud her judgement, breaking her will to stay alert.

But now Billy seemed true to his word. As they settled in for the rest of the night he stayed away from any suggestive topics, instead he told stories about the different supes they’d managed to take down, letting her know he really had no love for any of them.

Finally eight am came around and there was a light tap on the door of the van. Eve slid it open and let Frenchie and Kimiko in to take over the shift. As Butcher and Eve got their things together, Frenchie updated them on how he was planning to get hold of the equipment needed to incapacitate McKay.

“Alright,” Butcher said to him, “If you need to leave for the supplies, get MM and Hughie to cover your shift here.”

He slid the door of the van open and let Eve out.

“Get in touch if anythin’ happens, we’ll be back tonight, hopefully we can get that fucker then. He’s got to return some time.”

“Qui, Monsieur Charcuterie,” Frenchie snapped a sloppy salute and closed the door behind them.

Butcher and Eve got into the car on the quiet street and Butcher started it up, pulling away from the curb.

“Now that we’re off the clock, darlin’,” he grinned, glancing over at Eve as he turned the first corner, “how about some more flirting?”

“Jesus, Billy,” Eve laughed, “We’ve just pulled an all-nighter and I’m betting you’re as hungry and tired as I am, and you’re still in the mood for flirting?”

“Like I told you yesterday, you’re gorgeous when you scowl at me so I’m gonna keep teasin’ ya.” Butcher reached over and grabbed her hand and put it on his thigh, where it had been yesterday in the car. “And this time you can go higher, darlin’,” he winked at her.

Eve really did scowl at him this time, as she pulled her hand back from his thigh, but not before making sure she gave his thick muscled leg a good squeeze that made him jump and chuckle.

“Alright, I hear ya, breakfast then. Let me take you out for breakfast at least?” Butcher asked, keeping his eyes on the road as they headed down FDR back towards downtown.

“Breakfast sounds good but I want to change out of my clothes first, I feel all rumpled after all those hours on the chair.”

“The diner I ‘ad in mind is near your flat, we can park in your street, it’s just round the corner.”

…

The morning traffic was heavy but eventually Butcher pulled up in front of Eve’s building. They got out and she led Butcher through the doors and into the lobby. She automatically went for the stairs, as was her habit, but Butcher thumbed at the lift in the lobby.

“Is it broken?” he asked.

“No, I just like taking the stairs, exercise and all that”, she replied.

Butcher just scoffed and walked over to the lift and pressed the call button. Eve started up the stairs, “I’ll see you up there, that thing is going to take forever”.

“Come on, keep me company then, luv. I’ll be lonely in there” he called back at her with a cheeky grin.

“No”, she called back, already halfway up the first floor, but she couldn’t help smiling to herself. The heavy flirting they’d been doing ever since they got back from D.C., and his irreverent charm, was starting to work on her against her better judgement.

When Butcher reached the 6th floor a few minutes later Eve was waiting for him in the hallway with an exaggerated look of someone who’s been waiting aeons.

“Finally!” she mocked as the door slid open and he stepped out.

“Miss me much, darlin’?” he chuckled and swaggered towards her with his arms outstretched.

Eve scoffed at him as she turned and led him to the door of her small flat. Unlocking she let them both in and closed the door. The place seemed even smaller with Butcher present and he sidestepped into the kitchen doorway to make room for her to pass through to the living room. She grabbed a clean t-shirt and jeans from her open suitcase on the floor and headed to the bathroom to change, dumping her old clothes in the hamper.

From the kitchen she heard Butcher give an excited exclamation.

“Oi, luv!” he called and she turned so that she could look out from the bathroom. He’d stuck his arm out from the kitchen and was eagerly shaking her box of Yorkshire Gold.

“Make us a cup, won’t ya? It’s been donkey’s since I had a proper brew.” He actually had a genuine smile on his face, dimples and everything. She laughed at his excitement and went over to the kitchen.

“Let’s have a proper brew” she said, mimicking the ad as she poured water into a saucepan and set it on the small induction stove.

“I ‘aven’t seen Yorkshire Tea anywhere ‘round here, where’d ya find it?” he asked.

“I brought it with me, never leave home without it,” she laughed. “How British eh?”

“Bloody right too”, Butcher scoffed. “The tea here is rubbish. Nothin’ but fruit teas and ‘erbals. ‘S like drinkin’ perfume. I’ve been forced to start drinkin’ coffee just because of it.”

“To be fair,” Eve got a couple of mugs down from the cupboard, “their coffee is a hell of a lot better than back home”. Butcher nodded in agreement and watched her drop tea bags in the mugs and pour on the now boiling water and mash them around for a minute.

“Milk? Sugar?”

“Only milk, ta, luv” he replied.

She got the milk from the small fridge and let him help himself before adding some to her own. Butcher leaned back against the counter and cautiously sipped from the mug, letting out a low murmur of content as he swallowed the hot liquid.

“That’s nice, that’s really nice, tastes just right” he mused and took another sip.

Eve leaned back against the counter opposite from him and smiled at the domestic scene. The familiar taste of the tea, the warmth in her stomach and the comfortable silence that usually settled once everyone started sipping their tea. Even with Butcher the drink seemed to work its magic and he visibly relaxed, shoulders dropping, the usually permanent frown on his forehead disappeared.

“Ya know, the only thing missing”, Butcher said and looked up, “is a biscuit or two. One of them lil’ Hobnobs or Ginger Nuts, never seen ‘em over here either”.

Eve smiled, “Did you smell them, Billy?” she asked and pointed at the cupboard behind him. “Top shelf”.

He put down his mug and turned around, opening the cupboard.

“Well, well, will ya look at tha!” he exclaimed and pulled out a box of biscuits. “The ones with chocolate on them and everythin’ “. He pulled open the box and shook out two Hobnobs. “You’re a star,” he said, smiling at Eve, offering her one of the biscuits.

“I was saving them for a special occasion or a particularly bad day of being homesick” she smiled back at him, accepting the biscuit, “But whom am I to deny a countryman in need?” Butcher chuckled again and chased down his biscuit with a swig of tea and reached for a second one.

They shared a few more biscuits in comfortable silence before both their mugs were empty and Eve put them in the sink. Butcher disappeared into the bathroom and Eve went to find a clean jumper.

In the bathroom Butcher did his business and then stood in front of the cabinet, having a quick inner battle with himself before gently opening the door for a peek inside. It was an old and bad habit but people kept all sorts of secrets in their bathroom cabinets and he wanted to know more about Eve.

On the first shelf was her electric toothbrush and toothpaste, along with a small first aid kit, deodorant, hair brush and some elastic bands for her hair. On the second shelf was a number of small glass bottles with chemical sounding names he couldn’t understand. He picked one and looked at the clear liquid inside, none the wiser. Carefully putting it back he looked at the top shelf and spotted a two tone coloured egg shaped object. He picked it up and felt the light weight in his hand, trying to figure out what it was. The egg had a small hole towards its narrower end and the hole had a soft ring around the edge.

Eve was on the sofa in a clean jumper, typing on her laptop, when Butcher walked out of the bathroom.

“Wha’s this?” he asked, holding up the egg in his hand.

Eve looked up and spluttered.

“Butcher! What the fuck?!” She jumped up and reached for the object but he was too quick and with a cheeky grin held it up above his head. He was already much taller than her, with his hand outstretched she stood no chance in reaching up to grab it and he knew it. And she wasn’t fucking jumping for it!

“You’re going through my things now? I give you my tea and my biscuits and this is how you repay me?!” Eve was half way between actually angry with him but also trying to stifle her laughter.

“I’ll give it back if you tell me what it is,” he said looking up at the egg-shaped object, “I’m racking my brain here.”

“You really don’t know what it is?” Eve said with a doubtful look. She couldn’t quite tell if he was being serious or taking the piss, the usual Butcher style.

“A shaver, maybe?” he guessed, weighing it in his hand again.

“Give it to me and I’ll show you” Eve sighed and put out her hand, “If you don’t know you’ll never guess”.

Butcher handed her the object and she took his hand in hers, stretching it out and placing the round hole against the pad of his thumb. Maybe this was a bad idea, pushing the flirting with Butcher a step too far. But she pushed the metal shape on top of the object and Butcher felt light tension against his thumb, his brow furrowed in confusion. She pressed the button a few more times and the tension grew on his thumb, suction was being created, pulling the flesh of his thumb up towards the hole.

“Now do you get it?” she asked, watching his face for a glimmer of comprehension. It took him a few seconds and then he gave her a wicked grin.

“Bet I can do tha’ alot better” he leered, not a trace of embarrassment on his face.

“I bet you think you can.” Eve rolled her eyes and turned off the sex toy, removing it from his hand. She tossed it onto the sofa behind her. Butcher was grinning far too widely and closed the already small gap between them, stepping well inside her personal sphere.

“I really think I can, luv,” he whispered, bending down so that his mouth brushed against her ear and his warm breath tickled her neck. It made her give an involuntary shiver and he noticed. She tried stepping away but somehow her legs were not working right now and he took her immobility as a sign to continue and touched his lips to the soft skin below her ear, lightly kissing her neck and causing goosebumps to break out. A small sigh escaped her and she felt, more than heard, Butcher smile.

His beard gently tickled her skin as he moved his lips up over her jaw and reached her mouth. She fought with the rational side of her mind against the side that just wanted to give in and pull him on to the bed, it was only a few shorts steps away in the small room. His lips were warm and soft on her mouth and his hands were on her waist now, finding the delicate skin between her jeans and her jumper. His kisses got more intense, pushed against her still closed lips. She parted them for him and his tongue slipped in, finding hers and tasting it eagerly.

He felt too good, his warm, firm body pressed up against hers, his calloused hands grabbing at her waist and pulling her closer. Without even really thinking she reached up and put her arms around his neck, pushing her fingers into the thick hair at the back of his head and letting her whole body arch into his. He grumbled low into her mouth and one of his hands slid up her back under her jumper, leaving trails of warmth across her skin as he caressed it. Her kisses were more eager now, her tongue slipped into his mouth, tasting the tea and the chocolate from before.

A moment of clarity hit her and she pulled away from him, putting her hands flat on his chest and pushing him back. He stopped kissing her and looked down with a frown but his hands were still firmly around her waist and she could feel the extra heat radiating off him.

“This really isn’t a good idea” she said, shaking her head to clear the feeling his kisses had built up inside her.

He bent down towards her neck again.

“Why not, gorgeous?” he said in a low voice and kissed her soft skin. He had clearly figured out that this made her feel very good. His teeth nipped at the sensitive skin and she had to bite her lips to catch the moan.

”It feels good, for both of us I think”, he continued, between light kisses and nibbles on her neck. To make matters worse he let his hand slide up the side of her body, caressing the skin up towards her bra, letting his fingertips brush across her nipple when he reached it. She felt her throat constrict at the touch.

“We should focus on the job at hand, Butcher. Not get involved with colleagues.” She sighed as his fingers brushed her nipple again with a bit more force as he continued to kiss and tickle her neck with his lips and beard. “But you’re making it very, very hard,” she moaned as he pulled her in close again and let his tongue slip inside her open mouth.

She really had no will to resist him, his lips pressed up against hers in a way that made her insides flutter.

He chuckled against her mouth and pulled away a little, looking into her eyes.

“We know we’re not getting any further on the job today and MM or Frenchie will give us a bell if something goes down.” He let his hands slide down towards her waist and further, down to the back of her thighs. “Until then, we can enjoy the end of this lil’ dance we’ve been ‘aving since you arrived”

He grabbed her legs and easily picked her up, giving her a wide, mischievous grin, as he wrapped her legs around his waist. She knew he could feel how hot she was where her jeans pressed against the top of his crotch. There was no denying that she wanted this as much as he did, she was just a little bit better at analysing long term consequences. Billy Butcher never thought of the long term consequences of anything, he just did what felt right in the moment.

Which is what he did now. He crossed the short distance to the bed and laid her down on it, bracing himself over her with both his arms. He looked down at her with that cheeky grin she’d seen so many times.

“But if you really want me to stop, beautiful, just say the word.”

Her stomach knotted in anticipation of what he wanted to do and how good it would feel. Her brain still tried to find the logical argument to stop this now, but her instinct clearly wanted something else because her hands reached up around his neck and pulled him down without her brain giving any command. He sank down on top of her, holding himself up on one arm so that he didn’t crush her, and found her lips again. This time Eve opened her mouth and kissed him back straight away, her hands slipping into his hair and pulling him closer. His tongue eagerly slipped into her mouth and she felt him slide it over her tongue as she let a moan escape. His kisses were sending jolts of electricity through her and the way the tip of his tongue caressed her own made her ache for more of his touches.

His free hand moved down to her waist and slipped in under her jumper, pushing it up as he found one of her breasts again, cupping it, letting his thumb slide across her firm nipple. The sensation made her inhale sharply and he did it again as she felt his smile against her lips. He circled the hard peak and every pass made her whimper until he grabbed her whole breast with his big hand and kneaded it, relishing the feel of the warm, firm flesh.

The whole length of his body was pressed firmly against her and she could feel the bulge in his jeans straining against her thigh. As she shifted her legs to give him space she felt him push her hips open and his erection pressed against her core. From his mouth came a low rumble as he pushed against her, the fabric of his jeans creating friction between them. His hand left her breast, grabbed her hip and pulled her closer to his cock, bearing down on her pussy through the fabric of their trousers, grinding against her with heavy breaths.

She moved her hands from his hair and down to the neck of his shirt, wanting to feel more of his hot skin and that body that felt so good against hers. The buttons were stubborn and her concentration was faltering as Butcher continued to grind into her pussy and work his lips down along her neck. Every now and then he’d nip at the sensitive skin with his teeth and then kiss the spot with his open mouth, making her shiver every time.

Finally the buttons came undone, Butcher lifting himself up a little to help her reach the last ones before she could push it over his shoulders. He shook it over one arm and then the other before tossing it to the floor and reaching for the hem of her jumper, pushing it up over her head and letting it fly the same way as his shirt. He stopped short at the sight of her black bra, her nipples clearly pushing against the thin fabric, letting his hand slide over both breasts, tweaking her nipples as he went. Her moans made him give her a grin.

“And you though’ this was a bad idea, luv” he said, continuing to caress the silk of her bra, teasing her with his fingers.

“I still think it's a bad idea,” she gasped as he gave her right nipple some extra attention by slipping his fingers inside the cup of the bra and finding her warm skin. “I’m just choosing to ignore long term conseque…” her last word trailed off because Butcher had pushed down the fabric of her bra and enclosed her nippled with his mouth, playing with it and letting his tongue roll around it.

“Oh god, Butcher” she groaned.

“Just Billy will do, darlin’ ”, he smirked as he sat up slightly and slipped the bra straps over her shoulders and unhooked it at the back. It went the same way as the shirts. He propped himself up on one elbow and continued to kiss and nibble at her breasts with his mouth but now his free hand was making little circles on her skin, moving down towards the top of her jeans.

Her skin was smooth and warm under his touch and he enjoyed how every little nip at her sensitive areas made her twitch and moan. She couldn’t hide that what he was doing made her feel good and he wanted to make her moan louder. His jeans were becoming uncomfortably tight across his groin and he wanted to take them off, feel her hands and eyes on him as she stroked it.

His hand reached her jeans and he undid the button and pushed down the zipper before letting his hand trail down under the fabric. He felt a shiver run through her body and she arched her back slightly up towards his hand. His fingers reached the top of her underwear and he toyed with the edge of it, letting his fingers slip under it and then pulling back, teasing her as her breath caught in her throat. He could feel his fingers touch the top of her opening as they slid under the fabric, she was burning hot. She started squirming under his touch.

“Take them off, Billy” she groaned, her hands pulling at his hair.

He looked up at her, leaving her breasts damp from his kisses, and she pulled his face closer to hers, kissing him with her open mouth on his lips. He slipped his tongue inside her and let his fingers slide under the fabric again, and deeper down, into her slit, touching the top of her clit. She moaned, louder this time, against his mouth and pushed herself against his fingers.

“Easy, luv” he mumbled, letting his fingers gently slide across her most sensitive area, gaining more loud moans from her, it was slick with wetness and his cock started aching. He had to get out of these jeans. As he pulled his hand away from her pussy she looked up at him again, her usually green eyes were dark, the pupils nearly fully open.

“I think there was something in the tea” she smiled at him, “this can’t be all you, making me feel like I’m about to melt”.

“S’all me, beautiful”, he said, “but you are meltin’ ”, he held up his two fingers coated in her juice. She stuck out her tongue and gave his fingers a small lick and then took them in her mouth, sucking them clean. It was Billy’s turn to moan now as her tongue slid down and then up his fingers. He could practically feel her tongue on his cock and it strained a bit more painfully against his jeans.

“I need to shed these trousers, luv” he whispered and pushed himself up and off the bed.

She followed him into a sitting position and reached and grabbed his belt buckle, pulling him close as he stood next to the bed. Billy looked down on her, the light from the one lamp in the room was on her red waves, even more unruly than usual after squirming on the bed. He wanted to grab that hair and pull her into position but instead he gently laced his fingers through the waves, caressing her hair and waiting for her to unbuckle his belt.

Her hands let it fall to the side and swiftly undid both the button and the zipper of his black jeans, exposing his boxers underneath. They were straining against his erection but just to have the jeans off made him feel relieved. She pushed the jeans down, leaving his boxers in place and he steadied himself on her as he stepped out of them. Eve’s fingers ran along the edge of the boxers and he watched as she slowly pulled them down, letting the elastic graze over his hard cock, his moan coming from deep inside his chest. She looked up at him at the sound and gave him a grin.

“Nice to hear I’m not the only one moaning here”, she said, starting to caress him and place small kisses along his cock. That drew another moan from him, louder this time. He watched her trail a few fingers along the length of his cock, teasing him and letting his breath hitch as her nails tickled along the length.

“Luv, you’re killing me ‘ere” Billy groaned.

The sight of her mouth so close to the head of his cock was more than he could take. He wanted to grab her head and firmly guide her mouth on to it and watch it slide between her lips. His grip tightened in her hair and she knew what he wanted.

Looking up at him again she let her tongue slowly lick the head, tasting the precum that had formed at the tip. Gently at first, she only licked around the edges, but soon she sucked the head into her mouth and let her tongue roll around it, tasting him thoroughly before taking more in, moaning slightly as her lips stretched around his thick form.

Billy watched her take more of his cock into her mouth and tried to stop himself from thrusting his hips into her. His cock was soon slick with her saliva and her wet lips stretched around it as she let it slip in and out, sucking along the length of it, taking it deep in. Her dark eyes were turned up on him and the sight of his hard cock sliding in and out between her red lips made him clench his jaw as he felt the pressure build in his core. The tip of his cock brushed up against the back of her throat and he bit down hard on his lip, breathing deep. Forcing himself to think of Frenchie’s dirty trainers stinking up the office when he kicked them off he tried to pull back from the edge. He released his grip on Eve’s waves.

“Slow down, beautiful,” he murmured, pulling himself away from her with effort. “I’m not going to last long if you work me like tha’ “.

“I was thinking about your promise to do a better job than my toy”, Eve said, letting go of his cock and giving him a cheeky smile she knew would set him off.

“Oh, I will, luv, don’cha worry”, Billy’s grin was huge. He clasped his own hands, flexing out his fingers, like an athlete getting ready for a match, stretching his neck to one side and then the other before grabbing her hand and pulling her to her feet. His antiques made her laugh as he pulled her up. Reaching down he slid her already unbuttoned jeans down her legs, along with her underwear, leaving Eve naked in front of him as she kicked them aside. He slowly looked her up and down with a shameless grin before stepping closer to her.

“Eve, darlin, you really are gorgeous,” he murmured and bent his lips to hers, tasting his precum on her, as she opened her mouth to him. She pushed her hands into the hair at the back of his and pulled him closer, sucking in his tongue in a way that made his cock twitch. She moaned as she felt him push it against her stomach, the hard shape slick with precum and saliva.

Butcher pulled away from her mouth and cupped her jaw in his big hand, “Lemme know when it feels as good as tha’ thing and I’ll make sure to bring you higher,” he smirked and let his hand slide down her soft skin.

His hand found the top of her pussy and he watched her shiver and almost buckle as he slid a finger in between her folds. He slid his other arm around her waist and held her close to him, propping her up. Her pussy was just as wet as before and he found no resistance as he caressed deeper down her.

“All this drippin’ wet heat in your cunt just because of me, beautiful,” he chuckled at her. She put her arms around his neck and rested her head against his chest, trying to control her breathing. Billy could hear her moans grow more intense as he continued to slide his finger across her clit, he wasn’t even applying that much pressure yet, but her breathing was becoming laboured. When he thought she was too close to the edge he removed his hand, and she let out a small whine.

“I told you to take it easy, darlin’.”

“You’re making that bit very difficult,” she stood on her tiptoes to pull him down for a kiss, her mouth pressing against his hot lips as his tongue found hers. She let her hands slip up over his chest, finally getting a good feel of it. His skin was surprisingly smooth with sparse dark hairs that tickled her palms as she caressed him. She could feel scar tissue in a few places and she let her fingers gently explore them as they continued to kiss, his tongue pushing back into her mouth. His hard cock was pushed up against her stomach, and the heat radiated on her skin, she let her hand slip down and grab it but Billy smiled and pulled her hand away.

“Not yet,” he said, pushing her gently down onto the bed. “Crawl to the top and lay down on your back”, he ordered her and she complied. As she moved up the bed he watched her wet pussy glinting between her legs. It was all he could do to not fall on top of her and fuck her straight away, the sight was beyond tempting and his cock was throbbing.

Billy kneeled down onto the bed so that he was still looking down at her outstretched body in front of him. She was laying back on to the pillow at the top of the bed, head cocked slightly to the side as if she was studying him. As he watched she let her right hand slide down between her legs and push them apart, her fingers finding her clit and circling it. Her head fell back with a moan but she pulled herself back and looked up at him again.

“You’re taking too long, Billy”, she said and put her other hand up towards him, beckoning him down towards her.

“Just enjoyin’ the view, pet” he growled in a low voice, his eyes not leaving her fingers as they continued to circle her clit. “But stop doing tha’, I’m gonna do it better”, he smirked and finally bent down onto the bed, pushing her legs apart and positioning himself between them, his big hands were on her thighs, opening her up to his gaze. Eve groaned as he bent closer and slowly trailed some kisses and nips along the sensitive skin on the inside of her thighs, moving closer to her dripping centre. She arched her body up, trying to move closer to his mouth, low moans escaping her between her shallow breaths.

“Please, Billy,” she begged. Her hands were in his hair now, trying to pull him closer but he couldn’t be shifted.

“You’re so wet and hot, gorgeous, so sweet tasting,” he murmured, his voice lower than usual as he came closer to her pussy. Grabbing her right leg, he bent it at the knee, pushing it up towards her hip, giving himself better access as he slowly let the tip of his tongue slide up into her fold, finding her swollen clit almost straight away. When he finally touched it Eve shivered violently as if a small orgasm had already rocked her body, her pussy contracted around nothing. Whimpering loudly her fingers were tightening in his hair. He could feel the tension in his scalp and he let himself be pulled closer, his mouth fully in her pussy now.

Eve could feel his tongue work its way down and push inside, exploring how far he could reach, before pulling back and moving back up to her clit. Billy’s movements were unpredictable on her, he licked her with the tip, pushed harder against her clit, making her feel it deep down in her core, used his teeth to pull small sharp groans from her when he nibbled around the edges of her pussy until he pulled her clit into his mouth and started sucking on it, mimicking the motions of her sex toy. But this was better, this was so much better. He sucked gently at first but as her groans grew louder he increased his pressure. Her hips were pushing against him and he could feel the contractions starting to build in her pussy as he pulled her closer to the edge of her climax. Billy glanced up at her and saw her flushed face thrown back, her neck exposed, her breasts rising rapidly as she moaned his name.

“Oh Billy, god, I’m so close, so close!” she mumbled almost incoherently through ragged breaths.

She felt him move his hand up, sliding two fingers into her hot pussy without any resistance, and she was pushed even closer, her pussy contracting around his fingers as she felt him curl them back up, finding that sweet spot just inside her opening. He rubbed against it, adding friction and each movement made her convulse and cry out.

His mouth was on her clit, sucking it in, she could feel his tongue swirling around it and she moved her hips up against him, willing him to give her more. His fingers were sliding in and out of her, finding that spot deep in her cunt every time.

She could hear him mumbling against her clit, his voice vibrating through her and as he pushed in a third finger, stretching her pussy, she cried out his name. Her body tensed up, pushing her pussy against his mouth and he pushed her over the edge, letting his fingers work her through the climax, wave after wave rolled through her. Billy felt her pussy contract around him like a vice, and her juices soaked his beard.

A strangled cry escaped her as she arched her body up against his face and then collapsed on the bed. Her breathing was ragged and her chest rose with her deep breaths. Billy softened his hold on her clit but continued to lick her with smooth strokes until she pulled his head up towards her. Her eyes were dark and soft, strands of her red hair were plastered against her flushed cheeks. Billy moved up over her and kissed her soft, warm lips, he knew she could taste herself on him, his beard was damp from it. His hard cock brushed up against her stomach and Eve shivered, the thought of it inside her made her pussy contract again.

“Come inside me now, Billy” she said and moved her body under him so that his cock was pushed up against her still wet centre. “It feels so good after I come and if you’re good enough you’ll make me come again” she smiled up at him with a challenge.

Billy wasn’t about to turn down a dare like that and he grinned back at her while he took his cock in his hand and found her pussy with its tip.

“I know I made you come harder than that toy, babe, with just my mouth. You think I can’t make you come just as hard with my cock inside you?” His grin promised that he was prepared to back up his words, rubbing his cock up and down her slit, making her jolt every time he let it slip over her still sensitive clit. He saw it and he enjoyed it, making her breath deeper as her eyes dropped closed and she leaned her head back, relishing the feeling his cock gave her.

“Let me feel you inside me, Billy,” she murmured, “please.”

Billy groaned and looked down between them, the swollen head of his cock was pushed up against her wet opening, spread wide for him. He pushed in the head, feeling her cunt contract around it and he lost control. With a deep growl he pushed his whole length inside her. Slliding up and down her pussy, teasing her, had built up the pressure inside him to a breaking point, he needed to fuck her. Hard. Now. As he thrust inside her he felt her snug walls close around him, squeezing him tight.

“Ah, luv, Eve, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” he moaned, his hands finding her hips and pulling her down on to his shaft. Eve felt him stretch her out and push deep into her, she could only gasp as he bottomed out. He was filling her up, creating friction deep inside her and she felt how his movements stirred something deep inside her, hitting spots that made her cry out as a familiar heat started to build in her core. She grabbed onto his shoulders, digging her nails into his hot skin, needing him to envelop her with his heavy body as he thrust his hard cock into her wet cunt.

Billy pulled almost out, looking down to see his cock covered in her juice and he bit down hard on his lip. “Fuck, fuck, you’re so wet,” he gasped and moved down over her, letting her pull him down over her, her pussy contracting around his cock as she wrapped her arms around him and moaned into his ear.

He felt her wrap her legs around his waist, pulling him in again as he pressed his mouth on hers, pulling her tongue into his. He thrust harder again and his groans grew louder, he held a steady pace, trying to not to come too fast, needing to feel her come on his cock first. He pressed his face against her neck, trying to pull her as close as possible, letting his cock slam into her again and she cried out for him.

Her pussy squeezed him every time he pulled out, almost holding on to him and when he thrust back in he could feel how she contracted around him again. She was pressed up against his chest, breathing hard against his neck and ear, moaning his name now, as he slammed his hips into her with increasing pressure. She could feel her orgasm building up inside her again, his cock was adding friction to all the right spots and she groaned, her hands grabbing onto his shoulders.

He lifted himself up and slipped his hand in between their bodies, finding her clit swollen and slick. She gasped as he used his fingers to circle it, making her teether on the edge of a new climax.

“Darlin’,” he panted, staring down at her with heavy eyelids, his eyes almost black, “I need you to come on my cock, I wanna feel it, need to feel you drench me,”

He felt her pussy contract hard around him at his word and she cried out and dug her fingers into his back. Her climax broke over her, her pussy squeezing him tight as her body arched up against his chest, her whimpers filling his ears as she came undone under him. He groaned loudly, feeling his own release begin. Grabbing her shoulder with his free hand he pushed his hard cock deep into her as his cum shot out, needing to feel her tight cunt squeeze him dry. He continued to thrust into her slowly relaxing pussy as she came down from her second climax and he pumped the last of himself into her with slower thrusts, his head heavy against her neck.

For a few minutes all that could be heard in the room was their breathing, laboured and slowly calming down. Billy had collapsed on top of her as his arms gave out, he was vaguely aware of not trying to crush her too hard, but she didn’t seem to mind, her arms still around his neck and shoulders.

Eventually he let himself slip out of her, his cock softening. His cum was trailing out of her, making a mess on the bed. He pushed his arm underneath her and pulled her over himself, and on to the other side, laying her down on his arm so that he could look down on her. She smiled a small smile at him and reached up to touch the scar above his eye.

“Definitely better than the toy, but can I keep you on my bathroom shelf?”

“I doubt it, luv, but I promise to come an’ play with you whenever you need me” he said, his face softer than she’d ever seen it. “I run on tea and biscuits for tha’ particular skill set”. His smile was cheeky again and he bent down to plant a kiss on her lips.

[skyfallslayer]

We Did(n't) Start The Fire - Masterlist

Main Masterlist

🩸Summary: It shouldn’t change anything… but it does. ||  Hughie Campbell is someone who likes to stick to a plan until it’s complete, but of course, life likes to throw him some curveballs. Like, at the age of 16 he finds out he’s going to be a dad, or when his long time girlfriend gets killed, or when a rugged man offers him a way to kill supes out of revenge. || It shouldn’t change anything… but it does. And for once, he’s just going to have to accept it.

(Or, a “The Boys” Rewrite that features Hughie having a daughter)

🩸Pairings: Hughie Campbell x Daughter!OFC; HughLight; Platonic!OFC x The Boys; Kimichie

🩸Rating: Mature

🩸Warnings: At the beginning of each chapter.

🩸 Word Count: N/A

🩸 Start Date: N/A

🩸 End Date: N/A

🩸 A/N: No Idea what possessed me to write this, maybe I just like giving my favorite characters a kid to look after, idk. Let’s see where this ends up ’cause I got some ideas.

-INDEX-

|| Season 1 ||

Summary: When a Supe kills his girlfriend, A/V salesman Hughie Campbell, and his daughter Jayden, who was a witness to the murder, teams up with Billy Butcher, a vigilante hell-bent on punishing corrupt Supes — and the Campbells’ lives will never be the same again.

🩸 Chapter 1: The Name of The Game (Coming Soon)

🩸 Chapter 2: Cherry (Coming Soon)

🩸 Chapter 3: Get Some (Coming Soon)

🩸 Chapter 4: The Female of Species (Coming Soon)

🩸 Chapter 5: Good For Your Soul (Coming Soon)

🩸 Chapter 6: The Innocents (Coming Soon)

🩸 Chapter 7: The Self-Preservation Society (Coming Soon)

🩸 Chapter 8: You Found Me (Coming Soon)

-Taglist is Open-