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zepskies · 3 months

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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

#Being Human #And So It Goes #Part 18 #the boys #billy butcher #soldier boy/Ben #soldier boy #billy butcher x oc #butcher x oc #billy butcher x ofc #poc!oc #billy butcher x reader #Butcher x Latina!OC #karl Urban #poc oc #latina!oc #hughie campbell #zepskies writes

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Text

Running from the Flames {1}

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x OFC Summary: Brianna Vowles grew up on the paddock. It was what filled every weekend. There were endless trips around the globe with her father and Uncle Otmar in Formula One, until she went to college. Suddenly her life revolved around studying and boys, one of whom wasn't as nice as he had appeared. Five long years later, with a hiatus in between, she graduated with her engineering degree and had decided to use her VIP pass to see if life in the fast lane had changed. Warnings: 18+ only, domestic violence survivor, lots of drama and fluff, this is a work of fiction and the events are not based on reality. Chapter: One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || under construction

The air was thick with the fumes of high octane fuel and the smoke from burnt rubber tyres. The high keening of the engines reached deafening levels as the race cars left the pits and took to the track. Flags of all colours waved from the stands in support of the drivers from a dozen nations.

It was an absolute assault on the senses.

I couldn’t believe it had been five years since I last submerged myself in the chaotic atmosphere, but there had been more important things to worry about and I had been to the off-track events now and again to keep in touch.

Fresh off from graduating with my degree, I was ready to take some time out and have a bit of fun before starting my next adventure. Though the job I had lined up wouldn’t wait forever, they had given me the summer to enjoy. And enjoy it I would, I deserved it.

These weekends used to be what I lived for. Uncle Otmar would set me up with my own chair and headset along the pit wall of his team while my dad worked behind the scenes in the FIA. The team was my family and the paddock was a home away from home.

Sometimes I regretted leaving and going to college but I had been envious of the other young adults having a normal life. Then I realised that no matter how hard those years had been I was given the greatest gift that I wouldn’t change for the world, she was worth the pain and suffering I endured.

I grinned at my daughter perched on my hip but she was too absorbed in the action around us to see. The tiny pair of earmuffs looked huge on her but the roar of the engines was too loud to go without the safety gear and I couldn’t wait to reach the pits and get my own set.

“Bri!” Kelly called out as I was passing the door to Red Bull and I barely had time to greet her before she was pulling Adelaide from my arms. “Look how big you are getting, belíssimo,” she cooed as Addie clapped excitedly. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“To be honest, I hadn’t really planned on it,” I answered as I gave her a kiss on the cheek and hugged her daughter Penelope. “Coming back though, I really missed this.”

“Good, then you’ll keep coming and I can get my smooches from this gorgeous wee girl. Yes, you’ll be a Red Bull girl won’t you?”

“Otmar won’t get you any Christmas presents if he hears that.” Adelaide has no idea what either of us were talking about but at two years old she was just happy to get all the attention. “Speaking of, I should hurry up and find where he is.”

“I can look after Addie,” Kelly offered, unwilling to hand her back just yet. “Then you can catch up without a distraction.”

“Are you sure?” I asked hesitantly, not wanting to be a burden.

“Can she play with my dolls, please?” Penelope begged and Kelly nodded with a smile that eased my concern.

I tucked a long strand of hair behind Penelope’s ear and said, “Of course she can.”

My steps away were slow and I looked back twice after saying goodbye to Addie but, aside from a short wave, her attention was on Penelope and the Barbie doll she was offering. If anything changed Kelly had my number and she would be able to find Alpine’s pit stop easy enough.

“Brianna, there you are.” Otmar’s voice was barely audible over the noise in the pit lane but I found his hand waving from where he sat at the Control Centre along the pit wall.

It had only been a few weeks since I last saw my uncle, though it was a loose term when we were not related by blood. Otmar was my father’s best friend and a constant in my life until I left for college. The two had grown up together, practically like brothers, and I had been raised with Otmar’s kids - homeschooled on the road during race season.

When I reached him, Otmar spared a quick second to give me a hug before handing me a headset with a welcoming smile. “Where’s little Addie?”

“With Kelly. It’s a cleverly disguised strategy to distract Red Bull from the race.”

Otmar laughed heartily and shook his head at the fib but he also knew if Addie was around him while he was trying to watch the qualifiers she would definitely distract him so maybe it was a smart move.

“How are we looking?” Otmar asked as I glanced over the readings on the screen in front of him and listened to the drivers give commentary on the drive.

“Looks promising,” I said with a pat on his shoulder, proud of the work he had done with the team since joining them, “but you know how Monaco is.”

“It’s all about the starting position,” he finished with a serious nod before giving all his attention to the lap times.

Otmar had always been a man of few words when I was younger, but when he spoke it was always well thought out and meaningful. That did not apply when he was in his seat at the pit wall. Curses tumbled from his mouth with each lap and I realised how sheltered he and my father had kept me from this side of the sport. Hearing each swear word just made me smile wider.

The heat of Monaco was beginning to get to me when Otmar’s Alpine drivers finally made it through qualifying without any major incidents and respectable starting places of 5th and 9th in the grid for race day. If they could hold those positions and get points then the team would be in a good place for the Constructors Championship.

“Come, come,” Otmar said as he took off his headset and tossed it on his chair. “When was the last time you came to a race?”

I pursed my lips as I thought back through the years. “You were still with Force India, maybe 5 years ago?”

“Ah, so you won’t have met my drivers.” He grinned as he led the way into the workshop and through to the cooldown rooms that lay beyond, accepting handshakes and congratulations along the way. “5th place, well done, good spirit out there,” he bolstered excitedly as he reached a man still kitted out in his riding suit and clapped him on the back. The man turned around and I saw the embroidered name Pierre on his suit but I had seen his pictures like the other drivers on posters around the paddock.

Pierre grinned at his boss and shook his hand before the pair of stunning green eyes turned to me with a hint of confusion. All of the other people in the workshop were wearing Alpine uniforms or jumpsuits like the pit crew but I stood out in a floral day dress better suited for the warm weather on the Mediterranean coastline.

“Pierre, this is my niece, Brianna, she will be with us for the weekend,” Otmar introduced. “So give her a good show.”

Pierre blinked a little stunned at the news but nodded and held his hand out with a polite, “It’s nice to meet you. I didn’t know he had a niece.”

His French accent rolled beautifully off his tongue and his palm was hot in my hand from the gloves he had worn on the track as I shook it. “He doesn’t,” I corrected with a smile. “He grew up with my dad and spent so long at my Nan’s house she pretty much adopted him as her own.”

He smiled at the statement before wincing and rubbing his jawline. Concern washed over me as he looked pained and I stepped closer out of reflex, my motherly instincts kicking in. “Are you alright?”

“Uh, yeah, I’m fine,” he dismissed with a blatant lie before repeating it to Otmar.

“If you’re sure,” Otmar double checked with a pointed look. “Okay, go see Kim for your warm down then meet us in the den for debriefing. Bri, come meet Esteban.”

I waved to Pierre as I was led away to the other driver in a matching jumpsuit but his had been half opened and was tied loosely around his waist. This driver was far more reserved as Otmar introduced me and I could see he was too wrapped up in replaying the laps in his head to converse properly but his lower starting place compared to his teammate was weighing heavily on him.

Seeing the lacklustre effort the young man was putting in, Otmar sighed and clapped him on the back before giving him the same instructions as Pierre and sending him on his way. Once he was out of ear shot, Otmar leaned in closer and murmured, “We are working on rebuilding his confidence but I have high hopes for him this season.”

“He’s still on track for points, if he can just get out of his own head I think he’ll make you proud.” Otmar clapped his hands to get the attention of the others scattered around the room and called them into the den which was just a large room full of chairs where the engineers and pit crew could discuss where improvements could be made before tomorrow's race. “Just a little more of your time today folks, then we can go and rest before the team dinner tonight.”

A lot of the teams went their separate ways after leaving the pits, going back to their private motorhomes or hotels and getting an early night but Otmar believed that a team was a family and that extended to mealtime being a shared event. It was an odd belief to hold in such a competitive sport but it made me respect him all the more for trying to build trust and loyalty into the team instead of just the will to win.

“May I sit here?” Pierre asked politely as he appeared in a skintight shirt and jeans, his hair still damp from the quick shower he took.

I gestured to the empty seat, though there were plenty of other ones around the room including one on the other side of Otmar. “Be my guest.”

All through the debrief I couldn’t help but notice Pierre shifting beside me, constantly rubbing at the stubble that shadowed his jaw and wincing. I couldn’t concentrate on the information that was being shared knowing he was in pain and everyone else failed to see it.

Finally when the room began to empty I placed a hand on his arm before he could follow and leant closer since he obviously didn’t want anyone to know. “You should talk to the medic,” I whispered into his ear.

“I told you, I’m fine,” he assured me as he turned to face me, the citrus scent of his body wash filling my lungs.

“Fine, if you won’t talk to them then talk to me.” I gave him the same look I give my daughter when she has been caught red handed and he looked away as it worked its magic.

“My, er, the big teeth at the back?”

“Wisdom?” I offered, with a grimace as I remembered the pain of having them removed.

“Yeah, wisdom teeth, they are coming through. Guess I am finally getting wise.”

“Better late than never,” I teased as I opened my handbag and rifled through the pockets before triumphantly pulling out a small blue tube. “Here, try this.”

“Bonjela?” he read before flipping it over and seeing it was for teething babies and cocking his eyebrow at me.

“It works for adults too, just rub some on your gums and it will numb them for a while. It’s a miracle worker, trust me. I have a-” I was cut off by a familiar voice calling out for me and turned to see Kelly weaving through the Alpine crew with her Red Bull hat standing out.

“Mama!” Addie broke away from Kelly and rushed forward.

“Sorry,” Kelly apologised. “She was missing you.”

“It’s alright,” I said with a smile as I bent down to catch Addie’s flailing arms. “Addie, say thank you to Ti-Ti for looking after you.”

Adelaide turned to Kelly and thanked her the best she could for a two year old and waved to Penelope before they headed back to the Red Bill garage where Max was waiting.

“Who is this little princess?” Pierre asked as he knelt down beside me to Addie’s height.

“This is my daughter, Adelaide. Addie, this is mummy’s new friend, Pierre.”

“Hi Pear,” she copied and he laughed at the attempt before looking around like he was expecting someone else. It wasn’t uncommon.

“He’s not in the picture,” I said quietly while Adelaide told a convoluted story about the Barbie doll and Penelope. Pierre’s encouraging smile for Adelaide to continue her story wavered when he looked across at me with his eyebrows pinched. “It’s a long story and not a pretty one.”

He sighed with understanding and placed a light hand on my knee. “You can talk to me if you ever need,” he offered before waving the blue tube in his hand. “I owe you.”

The heat of his hand was like fire on my skin and I let it fall from my knee as I stood up and stepped back. A fog had filled my head and I couldn’t think of a single thing to say as I stood staring at him. It wasn’t like I hadn’t tried dating since Adelaide was born but I could never get past the point of physical touch. Not after Erik. He had tainted me.

I would have been frozen in that state all afternoon if Otmar hadn’t come to see Addie. His arrival shocked me out of the moment and released the breath I had been holding, trying to slow the rapid beating in my chest.

“Sorry,” I muttered when I finally dared a glance at Pierre who chewed on his bottom lip, those striking green eyes full of concern. I had to break away from them and regain my composure so I turned to Otmar instead. “I’m gonna go take Addie to the hotel for a nap, but I’ll come find you later for dinner.”

Otmar pouted playfully as he handed Addie over from the cuddle they were having and said he would send a car to pick us up at 5pm. I gave him a kiss on the cheek and struggled to say goodbye to Pierre without my cheeks catching fire while I relived the embarrassing moment over in my head.

“Bye Otty,” Addie called out over my shoulder. “Bye Pear!”

Pierre’s reply was instant and I almost stumbled as he spoke in his native tongue, “Au revoir, princesse.”

Click here for chapter two.

#pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #poc oc #pierre gasly x poc!oc #running from the flames

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marleyybluu · 1 year

Text

Double Date

Pairings: Oscar x black!OC

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex, use of drugs (marijuana), my smut writing skills

Word count: 4.5k

this is the longest thing I've ever written but I'm sorry I was not splitting it so if your attention span runs long enough to read this, enjoy 😂also I didn't re-read or re-edit the beginning cus I'm too high rn so sorry in advance

ALSO some of this was inspired by Entergalactic on Netflix. If you guys haven't seen it I highly recommend that you check it out, it's a fucking masterpiece, the soundtrack is bomb, storyline is cute and it's so visually pleasing omg. Kid Cudi really did his thing.

"So, look I know you're in your post-breakup mourning period... but.." Carmen took her hoodie off her head to give a full scowl to her sister, she could already feel the question about to come out of her mouth and she was in no mood. Fresh out of a long relationship, Carmen was a weeping mess that barely saw the light of day for almost a month. The man she thought she would marry and live her life with seemed to have had enough of her and made it clear in those exact words. Harsh. And that's what really hurt the most. Not the typical "I don't think we're working out." But a gut-wrenching "I've had enough." With no explanation.

When she told her sister, Vanessa, she suggested that they burned his things before he came to collect them but she couldn't find it in herself to be that girl— her sister said that didn't have anything to do with her and decided she'd perform the act herself but Carmen did find it funny to see his reaction when he saw the pile of charred clothing on the sidewalk. She was appreciative of her sister, her built-in best friend.

Vanessa looked at her with puppy eyes. "But what?" Carmen answered. "Okay so there's this guy that I've been talking to, his name is Jose, and he wants to meet but I'm kinda nervous so I asked if it could be a double date and he said yeah that's cool-"

"Nessaaaaa." She groaned. She was in no mood to even see a man let alone go on a double date with one. "Pleeeease! Please Mini." She pouted using the nickname she gave her since she was born. Carmen rolled her eyes tossing her head back as she looked at the ceiling to weigh her options, she'd been cooped up in her apartment for a while and she was starting to miss going out for a little drink here and there but she just didn't want to see the opposite sex for a bit. But it was for her sister and her sister would do the same if the roles were switched.

"When is this?"

"Tonight."

"For fuck sake Nessa."

"Sorry. But please?"

Carmen sighed. "Fine."

"Yes!" Vanessa cheered. "What does he look like?"

The older sister scrolled through her conversation finally coming across a picture of the two men, pointing to Jose and the other guy who'd be joining them. Carmen took the phone to get a closer look. He wore a completely shaved head, moustache and goatee which suited him well in her opinion— her eyes darted between the two men noticing the matching tattoos on their neck, and her date with a teardrop one under his eye.

"Vanessa..."

Her sister grimaced. "Yeah?"

"Are they in a fucking gang?"

"...maybe."

She mentally cussed her sister out, she should've known that this was what she was getting into since Vanessa always had a type, but she already agreed to this predictable catastrophe.

The time for the date came quickly and Carmen was thoroughly underwhelmed as she got ready, already planning out what could go wrong in terms of her lack of social skills— she felt like she was already lucky enough to get a boyfriend the first time around due to her awkwardness and now she was being launched back into the dating pool. Sort of.

The sisters arrived at Dwayne's Joint, it was a new spot in town that they had talked about trying out and Vanessa figured tonight would be a good night as any. They sat inside a booth waiting for the boys to arrive, the two sisters giving off very different energies. Vanessa was excited while Carmen sulked ready to get this over with so she could go home, light a blunt, and go to sleep. "You look pretty." Vanessa complimented. Carmen tried her best to make the most of it, she did dress up in a casual black halter top and paired it with a brown skirt, around her waist were her regular waist beads with one sitting above her belly button and the other below it so her belly piercing could be seen. She threw a white knitted cardigan over it but would most likely take it off soon because she was getting a bit hot already.

Her locs, that haven't been retwisted in the month, had been brushed and put up in a ponytail so they'd be out of her face and look somewhat neat. If she had to say so herself, and she did, she looked good.

"Thanks. You look pretty too girly." Carmen smiled. Her expression soon faded when the bell above the door rang signalling a customer had walked in, her heart fell to her stomach when it was the two men they were meeting with. "Here come your boys." She mumbled. "Hush." Vanessa scooted out of the booth and opened her arms to Jose, her sister stood almost stunned that the man almost ran to her scooping her up in his arms and off the floor.

She grumbled at them. Is this what she was going to endure all night?

She and his friend stood awkwardly not knowing if to introduce themselves to each other or wait for their counterparts to do it. The two broke the hug and Vanessa smiled. "José, Spooky, this is my sister Carmen. Carmen this is Jose and Spooky."

Carmen delivered a small wave only to receive a nod from Spooky, he looked like he wanted to be there as much as she did. The four sat down, Vanessa sitting beside her date and Carmen with hers. For the first few minutes it felt like a normal double date as far as those go, Jose did ask Carmen a few questions and made conversation with the two girls but soon all his attention went to Vaness which was fine because that's who he came for anyway.

She didn't know what to say to this "Spooky" guy, every time she looked over at him he was just staring at everything else not even making the gesture to look at her plus he didn't look like he wanted to be bothered anyway so she just went on her phone until their food arrived.

There was constant giggling across the table and consistent compliments and it made her miss her relationship even more-- she used to be like that too and she wished she still was. Her thumb hovered over his contact name, she knew she should've gotten rid of it by now but she didn't want to, she contemplated texting him even if it was to have a conversation for the moment but she didn't so instead she put her phone down on the table and placed her hands in her lap.

"So..." A shockingly deep voice said next to her, she was surprised he could speak at all. "So... you don't say much."

Spooky chuckled. "Neither do you. Guess we have something in common."

"That and friends who drag us to blind dates I guess."

"That too."

Saving the tension in the air was the waitress holding their tray of food, Carmen was grateful for the interruption plus she was mad hungry. The group ate and chatted a bit. She was enjoying her food until her eyes wandered off to the door, she gasped and slid down in her chair causing all eyes from the table to be on her. "What? What's wrong?" Her sister asked. "Damien." She whispered.

Vanessa turned around spotting the ex-boyfriend with a new girl on his arm, she looked over at her sister. "Who's Damien?" Jose asked. "Um, he's someone she used to date."

"What are you scared of him?" He joked. Carmen shook her head, she sat up straight frowning at the new girl. It'd only been a month out of a four-year relationship, how come he had someone already? Was she always there?

She couldn't see it but Spooky saw her expression and the way her mood changed especially when she saw that they were walking toward them to get to a table behind them. "Of all the places." He heard her mumble. He sighed and decided to do her a favour. "Come closer."

"What?"

"Come closer." Carmen listened and shuffled as close as she could, Spooky swung his arm over her shoulder catching her by surprise but she wasn't so stiff anymore she kind of relaxed under him. Damien and his date were getting closer, his smile turning into a frown once he saw her and Spooky.

They stopped in front of her table. "Carmen?" She looked up and fake smiled. "Damien, hey. What's up?"

His eyes shifted over to Spooky who was giving him a death stare. "Nothing, just hanging out, decided to try this new spot."

The air was thick once again, he nodded at the boys who didn't even blink at him, he cleared his throat mustering "See you around." Before going about his business. Carmen let out a breath that she didn't know she was holding, her eyes stung as tears that she didn't want threatened to break their barrier. "You okay?" Spooky asked, she nodded going back to her food only able to take one bite before she knew that her tears were about to embarrass her.

She snatched her sister's car keys off the table and said. "I'll be back." Spooky got out so that she could, he watched her walk out of the establishment the last thing he heard was her whimpers.

"Aww, what's her problem?"

Vanessa's ears found that snarky tone. "Maybe she didn't wanna smell your funky asses sitting right behind her."

Damien's date turned around. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me dog tits." She laughed. The girl gasped. "Are you gonna let her talk to me like that?"

Before Damian could answer he looked up at Spooky who was still giving him a look of disdain. He closed his mouth and asked her to sit down before anything got worse. Spooky took it upon himself to go check on her, he wandered off into the parking lot and not too far from the door did he see her with her head down with fog around her and smoke coming from the windows with the smell of weed in the air.

Inside, Carmen's eyes were red from both the Indica and her tears, she sniffled closing her eyes and rested her head back. She knew coming out tonight would be a mistake. Willing to Trust by Kid Cudi played while the weed took over she felt herself being carried off somewhere else, floating around in her head until a small tap on the window disrupted her peace, she looked over to the passenger's side and to her surprise it was Spooky.

She unlocked the door inviting him inside, she turned down the music taking another hit of her blunt. Carmen sighed putting her feet up on the dashboard. Spooky noticed her Scooby-Doo socks and laughed, she scrunched up her nose stifling her laugh too but she couldn't help it. "Shut up."

"I didn't say anything." He snorted. She looked over at him, her eyes falling on the details of the tattoo on his neck-- the crucifix that you'd more so see in Catholic churches but instead of Jesus and them on it the word Santos was etched into his skin, she scanned him until she landed on the other tattoo of the teardrop under his eye. "Something you wanna ask me?"

Spooky watched as she took another puff, checking her out just as much as she did him. She handed him her blunt and he gladly took it. "What's your real name?"

A dimple poked out when he smiled. "Oscar,"

"Hm, what caused Jose to drag you out of the house Oscar?"

He licked his lips and she didn't know if it was the weed but it made her tingle when he did that. "Eh, he's my hermano, just trynna be his wingman so he could get some pussy you know?"

He handed it back to her. "Gross." She giggled taking a hit. "Yeah? Like you're not helping your sister get some dick?"

"Fair enough."

The two sat in the car and talked for a surprisingly long time as if they were on their own separate date. It was a nice conversation and it helped take her mind off of her troubles for a bit, they hadn't even noticed how long they'd been gone until Jose and Vanessa came out hand in hand with containers sitting in a plastic bag.

Oscar saw them making their way to the car and if he was being honest it was a bit disappointing, he was enjoying Carmen's company she was a fun person to talk to, she was funny, she had some pretty crazy stories to tell and he liked getting to know her. She rolled down the window to greet her sister. "Thanks for dining and dashing."

"No problem." Carmen winked. "Alright let's get you home girl."

She looked over at Oscar and back at her sister and whispered. "Are you and Jose not... you know?"

"I want to but I mean I can just take you home."

She lightly shook her head, her sister getting the hint and smirking. "Um, Spooky do you mind taking my sister home? I mean if that's okay with you, Carmen?"

"Yeah, that's cool with me." She looked over at Oscar with hopeful eyes and he agreed to take her so they switched cars and were left in the parking lot watching the other pair get into the car and drive off. He walked her over to his Red Impala and she was sort of impressed by it, it was a beautiful vehicle and the interior was just as nice.

They wasted no time falling back into the conversation they were having before, leaving the venue and driving around with no destination in particular until Carmen suggested ice cream-- her munchies were kicking in and she was craving something sweet. They pulled up to an ice cream parlour that wasn't too far from her apartment complex, it was sort of empty except for maybe a group of drunks who were in the same predicament as they were.

"So, this Damien guy..." He started. Carmen saw that he was asking for permission to talk about and she nodded granting it. "How long was that?"

"Four years."

"Damn."

She laughed, that was almost everyone's reaction, assuming it was because that was getting rare nowadays. "I know. Hm, I thought everything was fine and perfect and one day it wasn't." She sighed drawing circles on the table with her nails. "You know, you plan your life together, everything is we and ours and us... then it's not and you're being told how they've had enough."

Oscar half smiled. "Well, that guy's fucking stupid for letting you go ma. Stop dating these square-ass bitches."

Carmen burst out at his attempt to console her, it was funny and it was cute and maybe he was right, maybe she needed someone who wasn't so uptight she did find that being with Damien sometimes required treading lightly on things and it could be annoying but she just accepted it, maybe now she needed someone who was more like... Oscar. So far she found him to be fun, and he sounded like he was down for anything as long as it was amusing.

A text came in on her phone lighting the screen, instead of reading the text she read the time and her eyes widened. It was almost 2 am. "Everything okay?" He asked. "Uh, yeah, just Nessa asking if I got home okay."

He slowly nodded looking at her lips, her septum piercing sitting just above her Cupid's bow another piercing planted on her right nostril, the light freckles scattered across her pretty brown skin, the subtle makeup on her face and her pretty natural lashes coated in mascara— he felt like he was staring at an angel. She started to blush and looked down at her lap.

"You ready to call it a night?"

She wasn't, but it was already late as hell. "Yeah, guess we should go."

They left the shop and once again entered the car, the ride was kind of silent aside from her giving him directions to her place but it wasn't a weird silence like how the night started, they were officially comfortable with each other. The ride was short considering she did live by the ice cream place. Oscar turned off the car and opened his door, Carmen sat a bit confused.

"What? You thought I was letting you go up there by yourself? Come on, ma."

She beamed, the little nickname growing on her, she trailed behind him like a lost puppy into the building and inside the elevator, she clicked for the fifth floor and leaned against the handrail. She looked at him noticing one of the buttons on his flannel shirt was unbuttoned, without processing it she reached over and fixed it for him. Oscar thought the minor detail was sweet, made his heart jump a little when she got close, close enough for him to really smell her perfume that didn't fade away for the whole night— sweet like mangoes.

The doors parted and she went ahead of him to find her place. Apartment 504. He made a mental note, you know... just in case.

She fumbled with her keys and unlocked the door swinging it open and turning to face him.

Invite him in. Invite. Him. In.

"I-I had fun tonight. Really."

"Me too." He agreed. The two stood looking at each other not sure what to say or do, not knowing if they would be on the same page if action took place.

Kiss him. Just fucking grab him and drag him inside and just fuck the sh-

"I... um... I'll see you around?" He nodded wishing her goodnight before he crept down the hall and disappeared back into the elevator. Carmen closed her door and banged her fist against it. "So fucking stupid."

----

It was a nice and breezy afternoon in Freeridge but Carmen couldn't take notice, the events from two nights ago, though small, were playing through her mind, their conversations and laughter going on like a broken record. Vanessa sat across from her younger sister still in a bit of disbelief at what she was told earlier.

"So... no kiss?"

"No." She murmured. "No, dick?"

Carmen glared. "Bitch if we didn't kiss what makes you think we fucked?" Vanessa put her hands up in defence. "People fuck without kissing."

"Yeah, weirdos."

There was a moment of silence before she asked another question. "Not even a hug!?"

"For fuck sake Ness, no!" She completely folded over resting her forehead on the park table, she was frustrated at herself for not bringing him inside that night even if they didn't end up getting intimate she would've enjoyed just talking or even smoking until the sun rose. Doubts played in her head that maybe she was only feeling this way because she just got out of a relationship and he was the first guy in her line of sight, but last night felt so nice and relaxing, they got along so easily once it was just to the two of them.

Vanessa smirked taking a sip of her drink. "Okay, I'll be serious, why didn't you invite him in?"

She shrugged sitting up straight, she played with the straw in her cup. "Are you scared of him?"

"No."

"Do you think he's ugly?" Vanessa teased. "I don't."

"Girl, I know you haven't been in the streets for a long time but it's okay to think with your punani sometimes. No disrespect you've come to me complaining about your sex life sometimes, so if this is an opportunity to get some good dick, you better jump on it. Pun intended." Carmen ran her hands over her face letting out the longest groan knowing her sister was kind of right, she hadn't had to think with her punani in so long because if she wanted dick it was right there. She sighed. "Can you ask Jose for his number?"

A devilish smile spread across Vanessa's face. "I sure can."

The sun set as quickly as it rose and Carmen was back in her apartment after spending the day with her sibling, she was successful in getting Spooky's number but had yet to text him, every time she opened the empty thread her thumbs would ghost over the keyboard and she'd chicken out turning off her phone. She decided to leave her phone alone and took a quick shower to cool her down but it wasn't helping.

After her shower, she doused herself in cocoa butter and sprayed a little perfume to feel extra good before putting on her oversized grey sweater with the Space Jam characters scattered over it.

"Alexa, play Angel by Kid Cudi." It had recently become her favourite song to smoke to.

"Playing... Angel by Kid Cudi."

Perfect.

She lit a spliff she had rolled earlier and made a mental note to hit her plug for some more loud since this was her last. A moment to herself in this big-ass apartment, she was getting used to being by herself and in some way found peace in it. Her phone buzzed and she looked down at a text from her sister.

LochNess🐍: Did you text him yet?

Carmen put her phone down telling herself she'd answer once she was done having her moment, until another interruption came, this time it was a knock on her door. She was confused, no one really came to see her unless it was her sister. She sighed outing the last bit of her spliff in the ashtray and trotted to the door, she looked through the people and gasped when she saw who was on the other side. She quickly unlocked her entrance revealing Spooky on the other side.

"Spooky... hi."

She didn't know it but Spooky was nervous, he came over after Jose told him he gave Carmen his number he didn't have much of a plan or a script of what he was going to say to her. On the other hand, she was thinking about what her sister had said earlier, it was okay to think with her pussy for once and she did. It took both of them by surprise when she pulled him down by his black shirt connecting their lips, like a scene straight out of a book she tugged him inside and he reached back closing the door behind him.

He glided his palms across her lower back and down her bum grabbing a handful of her bare supple skin, she was soft and smelled so sweet. Carmen giggled feeling her feet leave the floor, legs soon wrapped around his waist. He slid off his shoes and walked over to her couch. Surprisingly none of this affected their kiss, chasing each other in desperate neediness. He sat with her in his lap, hands resting on her hips. They pulled apart for less than a second before he began to nibble at her neck, she smiled lazily letting out a hazy laugh at his facial hair tickling her skin.

Oscar gave her one last kiss on the neck before leaning back on the couch, she caught his eyes running down her body. "What?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Heard you been thinking about me." Carmen groaned and buried her face in her hands, he chuckled at her sudden shyness. "I'm gonna kill that woman." She whined. Oscar moved her hands away and held them in his own. "Don't. I been thinking about you too." He said before cupping her chin, pulling her down this time.

Clothes were in a rush to be removed, tossing every piece on the floor until the cool breeze came in touch with their bare skin. Carmen hummed feeling his teeth graze against her sweet brown skin, his thick fingers padding down her torso and dipping between her legs. Oscar groaned at the feeling of her slickness coating his fingers, a light gasp followed by a whimper graced him as he pushed his fingers inside her cove. Her nails lightly dug at his biceps. If she was being honest, she just was willing to skip the foreplay, she wanted him and she wanted him now.

She whined wrapping her legs around his hips, he laughed breathlessly knowing what she was asking for so he stopped playing and gave it to her. He removed his fingers and lifted his head from the crook of her neck, his chain dangled in her face as he hovered over her his eyes gracing her every feature. A slick remark was about to come out of her mouth but was quickly shut down and replaced with a quiet moan feeling him fill her up completely.

Their chests pressed together as he returned to his position, his lips back on her neck adding to the feeling below. She whimpered feeling that first stroke, the second one so slow and delicate he wanted her to feel him against her walls, the third really hit-- it was a hard thrust, an erotic groan sounding from both of them. Carmen held him close, with every collision a new sound spilled from her plump lips, sounds she didn't even know she could make.

"Feels so fucking good, oh yes!"

He left sloppy kisses on her skin. "How are you so fucking wet? Hm?" His tone was cocky and she couldn't lie, the pleasure he was giving her had earned him that right. Her trembling legs never left from around his waist, using her body to beg him to go deeper. His hand collided with her hip squeezing her tattooed flesh in his grip. "Where's my answer mama?"

"You made me so wet." Carmen whimpered. "Shit! Right there!"

Oscar was pounding into her soft spot so hard her eyes disappeared to the back of her head, her legs came loose as she tried to push him off but he wasn't budging, he smirked ignoring her plea for him to ease up, she was close anyway he could feel it. Her pussy gripping him like she owned him and from now on it did. He was hooked, he was dizzy, he was ready for round after round— he never wanted to leave inside her.

He leaned down capturing her shivering lips in a slow kiss, tongues sliding past each other. He groaned when she would struggle to kiss back. "Spooky... fuck I'm cumming!"

Her nails clawed up his sides and dug into his skin once her hands reached his back. "Cum for me princesa." The words barely left his mouth when her back arched, her nails dragging down his back until her hands were right above his cheeks, she was pulsating around him. He slowed down his thrusts dragging out her orgasm for as long as he could and until she tapped out. They lay there out of breath and in a lustful aura. Carmen had finally started to breathe normally before Oscar picked her up and carried her off to an open room that he assumed was hers. She laughed when he tossed her onto the mattress.

"I'm not done with you yet, hm, I want you to always think about me."

I know I promised Rio but i finished this first so boooo

if you liked this fic feel free to like this fic. comments and reblogs help and are deeply appreciated

be cool as always🤙🏾

#oscar diaz #black!OC #spooky #spooky x OC #spooky x black!OC #oscar diaz x black!OC #oscar diaz x OC #spooky fanfic #spooky fanfiction #on my block fanfic #on my block #on my block fanfiction #poc OC #smut #oscar diaz smut #marleywrites #marleysfanfictions #Spotify

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meatskullz · 3 months

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Something in the meantime (finishing up the Papa Louie requests)

Let's bring back the og creepypasta😼 My goofy unserious Jeffery Woods design and my goofy ass OC Kittie because I'm funny and love blonde, pink characters

#oc x canon #2014 aesthetic #2000s emo #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #jeff the killer #creepypasta oc #2014 tumblr #2014core #2014 revival #creepypasta fanart #creepypasta fandom #Creepypasta #poc oc #myart #shitpost

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falgaia · 6 months

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Blaire - Mirage of Honchkrow

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welcometomyfuneral · 6 months

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SURVIVOR SERIES 2021

Summary: Shiloh Solis (OC) makes her return to WWE in an effort to assist her friend Becky Lynch against Charlotte Flair and Danika Brooks (OC), Shiloh’s old rival. She also takes a trip to the past, remembering how she got here in the first place.

Warnings: Typical wrestling violence, cursing, mention of blood, and description of injury (nothing crazy though) and I believe that’s it.

A/N: you can obviously read this in the perspective of your own descriptors (ie. your own hair, eyes, description yada yada) I am not stopping you! This is just a little info that if you wish to do that, feel free to ignore any way that I describe Shiloh. It just felt easier to me to have a character, rather it be the reader. All of my characters are usually POC though, so that’s how I will write them!

Also, feel free to tell me what you think and also comment if you would like to be added to a tag list for this series. I will be creating more writings later on but if you have requests for a series, imagine, or one-shot send them over! I do not bite :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

WWE MASTERLIST

“HOW ARE YOU FEELING?”

“Like I’m gonna throw up.” Shiloh responded to Triple H as they stood in one of the many arena entrances. His chuckle to her response got drowned out by the crowd’s loud pop at the match taking place. “Now I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

He shook his head at the girl before moving with her closer to her drop off point.

“You’ll be fine. You were a crowd favorite, and you probably still are. This type of crowd is light work to you.” He handed her a face mask, glasses, and a black hat with ‘THE MAN’ on it. She rolled her eyes as she took the items from him.

��Light work to Shiloh 2 years ago. The last time these people saw me I was being lifted onto a stretcher.” Triple H nodded helping her put on her hoodie.

“Yeah, but that wasn’t your fault.” He watched as she looked on at the mass of people, placing a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. “You had an army behind you then, you have an army behind you now. Trust me, you got this.”

She nodded her head, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, before putting on all the items. Once she put on the hat she bid a farewell to Triple H, moving towards the barricade near the ring.

She was disguised as a staff member of the arena, to get close to the ring and execute her attack on Danika. This moment it self has her feeling a ton of mixed emotions. But, as she looked on at the battle in front of her and hearing the crowds cheers, a smile made its way on her face. She had truly missed this, everything from the atmosphere to the bumps she would take. She loved wrestling and was grateful what Danika did—what Danika tried to do wasn’t the end of her career.

Laying her eyes on the person in her thoughts, she couldn’t help but scowl. She couldn’t help the anger of seeing her not only still wrestling, but also with a “Money in the Bank” briefcase in her hand. After all the pain she caused, pain that had been fully intentional, Vince still kept her around. Shiloh guessed cause he believed she brought something to the table. Yet, Shiloh believed Danika always showed up to the table empty handed. All she brought to the WWE was another wannabe superstar, who can’t help that they aren’t different from the next wrestler.

The fact that her and Danika were so similar was what pushed Danika over the edge. That’s what caused her injury to happen.

It was coming towards the end of 2019, and Shiloh had been on a run to gain the Women’s Tag Team Championships with her partner, Asuka. Her previous partner, Naomi, had to leave on a hiatus leaving Shiloh to recruit Asuka. The run had been successful and they were closer and closer to the championship belts, until their match against Danika and Charlotte.

The opposing team had also gotten a high chance of getting an opportunity to face off for the titles. Yet, only one team could move on, and this match would determine it.

The entrances were perfect, and the match had been set to be an interesting one. Both sides were ready for whatever could be thrown at them, and they expected a lot of damage to be dealt. Four women that were brutal forces all wanted a chance for these titles, and they weren’t letting anything stop them. Especially Danika.

After the bell had rang, the fight commenced. Tags had been alternating as the match progressed. When Charlotte was in, Asuka would tag Shiloh due to the height difference, and vice versa when Danika was tagged in. The match was like a beautifully orchestrated art piece, until the final tag of the night.

Charlotte and Shiloh were in the ring holding the ref’s attention. Charlotte held Shiloh in a front face lock before moving to her corner and tagging in Danika. The two performed in sync, Charlotte holding Shiloh in place as Danika delivered chops to her chest. Finally, Charlotte let go and placed herself on the other side of the ropes.

Danika grabbed the collapsed black haired girl by the head and hit her over and over again, causing her to fall in the middle of the ring. Asuka reached her hand out for Shiloh, but Shiloh was too occupied trying to protect her head, rather than to make an attempt to reach for the tag. Danika looks around at the crowd before lifting Shiloh to her feet. With Shiloh still in her grip, Danika takes a deep breath, before mustering up her strength to perform a Biel throw. Shiloh flies face first into the ring post, and suddenly feels a burning feeling on her forehead. She begins to feel disoriented as shouts from the crowd, referee and Asuka all mesh together.

Not understanding why her vision has become so blurry and why her ears were ringing, she reached up to touch where the burning was coming from. Once feeling something wet on her hands, she was met with crimson instead of her usually skin colored palms. She was bleeding. From what she could understand from the ref’s shouting, he had just disqualified Danika and Charlotte. What Shiloh learned later on after the fight, was that Danika removed the padding from the turnbuckle. This resulted in Shiloh’s head injury, and the reason why Danika performed that Biel throw.

Even with the disqualification, it didn’t seem like Danika was leaving anytime soon. Danika reached down to the already injured Shiloh, and hoisted her up, tossing her over the ring post she had just hit her head on. Not able to provide a soft landing, Shiloh placed her hand out to stop the impact. She was met with pain in her wrist, and another shot of pain in her knee. And she could tell from the crowd’s reaction, it did not look good.

The match ended there in that moment as the medics on scene came to help. And those same medics later told her she had a possible concussion, a sprained wrist, and a torn ACL. But all she heard was, “You have to take an indefinite break from wrestling.”

That night changed the trajectory of a lot of things.

Asuka needed a new partner, and that resulted in the birth of the Kabuki Warriors. Her and her partner Kairi Sane proceeded to win the titles in October of that year.

Danika and Charlotte never won the titles, but they created an unbreakable alliance that ruined a lot of opportunities for others. Then Danika got pushed to the forefront, to replace the absence of Shiloh. Ironic isn’t it.

And off the screen during her recovery, Shiloh started a relationship that seemed to end as soon as it began. That relationship was with none other than Jey Uso. He had been one of her best friends, along with Jimmy and Naomi, during the time of her recovery. She obviously knew of their presence cause they worked together, but when Naomi and her were partners they were practically attached at the hip. So, her husband had to be put in the equation too, that meant her husband’s twin brother came a part of the package deal. Shiloh never opposed, she absolutely adored the twins, and after awhile wanted them to be everywhere Naomi and her went. So, the fact they would check in with her recovery didn’t surprise her. What did surprise her was the fact she had a “boyfriend” out of it.

The labels were never truly placed on their relationship, but anyone who was involved in seeing it, knew what it was. Yet, you would expect your boyfriend to at least text you a few times in the week, not once a month. Shiloh never blamed him for his unfortunate shortage of texts towards the end of their situationship. The Bloodline had just started to be created, and he was involved with Roman, and all the crazy stuff they had going on. So time was sparse, and when schedules don’t line up like they use to, texts don’t get sent as frequently either.

Shiloh was left without a career, a title, and even a “boyfriend” all in the span of a few months. With this kind of luck she expected her life to become more pathetic. But, she was wrong. In the 2 years of her absence she kept her mind and thoughts on recovery. She bettered herself and healed herself, making sure when and if she got the call to return, she was ready. Whether she got that call in 10 years or 10 days, she was ready. That call came 3 months before this current event, and here she was in the crowd like a tiger watching her prey.

Shiloh watched as Danika cheered on Charlotte from the sidelines, getting stressed out every time Becky would kick out. Danika placed her hands on her head pacing the outside of the ring. Her attention was quickly pulled again, when Charlotte performed an O’Connor Roll on Becky, holding her down for the pin. Danika began to plot, and while the ref was counting, she placed Charlotte’s hand on the ropes. The ref quickly saw Charlotte’s hand causing the count to stop. He didn’t see Danika’s involvement, making the blame shift to Charlotte. Obviously annoyed, Charlotte shoots up leaving Becky on the floor, and she begins to argue with the ref.

While this is happening, Danika uses her briefcase to hit Becky over the head. This attempt to disorient Becky goes unnoticed and Danika moves to interfere again. But as she lifts the briefcase, she is speared. The crowd roars at the spear, more excited that Danika was stopped. Danika is then throw head first into the stairs and falls to the ground along with her briefcase. All eyes are on attacker, and Shiloh takes off her disguise, and for a second worries when the crowd doesn’t react. After a pregnant pause though, the crowd pops in recognition.

“I can’t believe it, is that Andromeda?!” Michael Cole can be heard asking, using Shiloh’s nickname. Corey Graves responds from next to the older man, “Yes, it is! Just with a new look.”

With the new crowd volume and her partner laid out on the floor, Charlotte looks on shocked at Shiloh. All Shiloh does is smile before Charlotte is grabbed, and Becky performs her own O’Connor Roll into a pin. The refs count ends as quickly as it started, and Charlotte’s kick out comes to late. Becky’s music fills the already loud arena as she falls down to the mat. Charlotte pulls herself into a corner with nothing but disappointment and anger on her face. Shiloh rolls into the ring grabbing Becky’s belt and helping to her feet. She looks at Becky with a smile before grabbing her hand and raising it up. The crowd somehow gets louder.

After letting Becky bask in the glory for a bit they both finally exit the ring, walking backwards as they look at the sight of a now collected Danika and a still defeated Charlotte. Wrapping her arm around Becky’s waist in a side hug, Becky lifts her belt in the air with her other hand one more time to the crowd. Shiloh lifts her fist with her in a sign of victory.

Danika moves her eyes finally from the pair towards Charlotte, who is already glaring daggers at the Money in the Bank winner.

“Seems there’s going to be some trouble in paradise.”

“You could say that again Corey.”

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missacidburn928s-heathenhideaway · 1 month

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Moonlight & Fang Masterlist

Fantasy/Little Red Riding Hood/ABO AU

Alpha!Jax Teller, Dean Winchester, Captain Syverson, Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes x OC Omega!Selene/Red

Their sweet words fall like bittersweet honey. Lacing pain and menace under a sugary facade. Coating everything. Sticky, sweet and unthreatening. All earth and warmth. The best disguise for unsuspecting beings, with open hearts and damaged souls. A succulent entree for her sharp teeth to feast upon. For she is made of moonlight and fang. All charm and soulful eyes. While hiding an all encompassing darkness inside. Sinful lips with a deadly tongue. Patiently waiting for her prey to become safe and lucid. Drunk off of her words and lingering touch. When their red hoods fall, exposing the softness of their throats. Her eyes become bigger, as her hunger and lust for flesh grows. Just one bite and she'll change your life.

My, oh my.

What big fangs you have my dear.

Word Count: 21k

Warnings: 18+ Only

Original Female Character(s), Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Smut, Gratuitous Smut, Blood and Violence, Werewolves, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves, Alpha/Omega, Morally Ambiguous Character, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Eventual Fluff

Chapters:

Little Red

The Orphan

The Hunter

The Blacksmith

The Rogue

The Forgotten Prince

Balance

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aliypop · 6 months

Text

No Baby You Can't Lick it

Word Count: 2,522

Writers Note: Alright I'm tackling writing 70's E as a smut so don't judge me on this one

Warning: SMUT MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Pairing: OC x Elvis

Plot: With Elvis now in Vegas and Cecelia back from her world tour, she finds herself at The International Hotel being reminded of the powerhouse of love that is her husband Elvis Presley

Taglist: If you wanna be tagged let me know!

@darkmoviesquotespizza

@sissylittlefeather

@richardslady121

@thegettingbyp2

@presleyenterprise

@sissylittlefeather

@dkayfixates

@rjmartin11

The International Hotel January 7th, 1972

The cameras flashed through the lobby as a dark brunette-haired, sunglasses-wearing, fur coat-toating, tawny-skinned woman was at the front desk. That woman was,

"Mrs.Presley, We uh weren't excepting you!" The concierge looked in shock.

"Call me Cecelia, sweetheart." she laughed, taking off her shades as she looked at the young woman who was about to faint. Usually, her husband had this effect on women.

"W-Well... Can we do anything for you, get you a room..."

"I know Mr. Presley is on stage currently... but, uh, if you could relay a message to Jerry, tell 'em the Eagle has landed." taking the key from her, Cecelia winked as she continued to walk down towards the Elevator.

"Mrs. Presley!"

"Happy Birthday, Mrs. Presley!"

"Welcome back, Mrs. Presley!

"Geez, Midge. I didn't know people even remembered my birthday." she laughed as they walked through the casino. She was all smiles and waves like a pageant girl when really all she wanted to do was see her loving husband, who she hadn't been around for almost a year,

"Well, I don't even think you remembered your own birthday, let alone celebrated in how many years?"

"Not true! Last year Elvis. Bought me a rhinestone studded Gibson Guitar."

"And what did you send him."

"The key to a custom-made roadster... With EP on the seats."

"Well, when's the last time you two Celebrated your birthdays together..."

Cecelia took in a deep sigh as she thought about it. They'd been so busy with tours and conflicting schedules and even the kids who were now teenagers that the two hadn't even had time to their actual selves. The Elevator began to ding as they reached the 32nd floor of the hotel. Midge walked out first as Cecelia took out the hotel key. In a sense, the room felt like a home away from home.

The outside of the crowded concert hall was where the Memphis Mafia was trying their best to transport,

"Elvis, I love you!

"Love you too, honey." he winked,

Back to his hotel room, that was if he could stop kissing all the women who'd approached him, but then again, when you're the big star that is Elvis Presley, what's one more woman? Running down towards them was the concierge who had run to Jerry to tell him,

"The Eagle has landed."

Jerry looked at the young girl as he gave her a nod and a tap on Elvis's shoulder,

"We gotta go, E."

"Somethin wrong..." He looked up at Jerry, his hand searching for one of his many peacemakers.

"Nah, we just gotta go..."

The view of Vegas was beautiful from the window as Cecelia stood in front of it dressed in her long boudoir pink velvet robe. Champagne in her hand as she slowly breathed in and laughed, her eyes catching a pair of red panties that definitely didn't belong to her, just another chip in their marriage she'd manage to find. But it was no different than when she witnessed him date over 25 girls while his heart set on her. Lost in thought, Cecelia didn't even hear the key in the door turn,

"Be careful, E..."Jerry said,

"Why the hell do I have to be careful?" Elvis laughed a lit cigarillo in his mouth, "What's in there cept for what's usually in there." opening the door to his hotel room, he could smell the sweet scent of a familiar perfume. And the shift of a calming wind coming through.

"Elvis, is that you?"

"Cece..." his tired blue eyes now magnified back with energy,

"El..." she ran to him as she engulfed him with a tender kiss on his lips,

"I'll leave you two alone," Jerry smirked, closing the door behind him.

Cecelia had pulled away from him, taking the Cigarillo out of his mouth and setting it out. On the ashtray, "Seems somebody missed me." He whistled, looking at her frame in the robe,

"Seems someone couldn't wait for me..." her eyes gesturing to those panties again,

"Honey, no matter how many fans may have come in trying to steal away my appetite, you'll always be my main course," he whispered in her ear. Biting at the lobe as she shivered,

"You're lucky it's your birthday in half an hour..." she laughed,

"And you're lucky it's still yours." his lips were now on her neck, kissing and sucking all the way down to her shoulder, where her robe was now slithering down off her skin,

"Tell me, doll... you wearin anythin under that robe."

"Why don't you see for yourself." she laughed, running towards the bed as she untied her robe and ran,

"Damnit, Cece!" He laughed, chasing after his playful wife. Oh, the things he'd do for the woman before him. Cecelia was by the piano, now draped over it, as her eyes seduced him into coming over,

"Lord ol mighty..."

"Like what you see?" velvet curtains as her backdrop, she looked like something a man would only dream of finding in a bordello landscape.

"Mhmm..."

"You know... Pres, I'm liking a whole lot of what I'm seein..." Gesturing to him and his oh-so-tight blue owl jumpsuit. She wanted to pull him by the belt and get to working on him right now, but she wanted to make him work for it.

"You want me don'tcha honey,"

"I thought I was makin' my intentions clear," she smirked, beckoning him to come closer. Elvis began to walk closer towards her like a sailor drawn to a siren,

"Not clear enough, baby..."

"Do you want me to tell you what I want tonight..."

"Tell me, honey..."

"Well... I want you to make love to me like the beast I know you can be..." her arms around his waist as she heard the clinking of his belt hit the floor. His hands were already caressing her plump breasts.

"Easy... Mmm, tiger." her hand was now on his chest as she unzipped him slowly from the jumpsuit,

"Tell me, Mr. Presley... Did you think of me when you were fuckin those girls..."

"Every time..." he growled in her ear. As he pressed her against him, she could feel his cock against her ass. Biting her lip, "You know I love you... And only you," he whispered, biting her shoulder, "And I miss you and only you..." his fingers rubbed circles on her waist.

"Why don't you prove it..."

"Spread your legs, baby. And I'll show you," he commanded her. Cecelia felt her body pressed against the glass window, as his fingers were already working magic down from her heated skin to her oh-so-wet cavern. He could hear every little gasp and sharp mewl of a moan whenever his fingers would brush across the spot that made her say,

"Elvis..."

"Right there..."

Or his favorite.

" Don't stop..."

"I wasn't planning on it." he laughed, "You're wet, sweetheart, and it's all for your Elvis, huh." she could hear his devilish smile through his thick southern accent, "Elvis..." she sighed, her eyelids fluttering at his finger-work, though to be fair she did love a man who was a God at the guitar. "Tell me what you want, baby..." his voice was husky and raspy and sending her on edge,

"I ...I need you..."

"Need me to what, baby girl..."

"Fuck me..." Her voice had an innocent tone to it, and it was driving him crazy.

"Is that how we ask for things, Cece..." he asked her as he gently grabbed her face, lust-blown eyes looking into one another. Cecelia shook her head no.

"Oh, come on, little darlin, you can use your words for your Elvis, can't."

"Please..." she whined and whimpered.

"Anything for my princess." Tilting her head up from her chin, and he kissed her. Elvis could taste the faint hint of champagne and her lipstick on his tongue. Cecelia could taste the punchy scent of his Cigarillo and his beer. But it only made the kiss more intense for her. After all, she still did miss him. Gripping onto his broad shoulders, her legs wrapped around his waist as she scrunched up her nose, readjusting to his size.

"You okay, baby?" Elvis asked with concern.

"Mhmm... it's just been..." her body shivered as her face fell into his shoulder blade, "Awhile..."

"You've missed me, haven't you, doll..."

"Why doya ask Pres..."

"Legs shakin worse than mine, and I ain't even start yet." he laughed.

"Maybe cause. I'm all shook up, OH EL YES!" she moaned at the first thrust he gave her. Cecelia had her fingers caressing his sideburns. She then heard a thud as she felt the sensation of glass on her back. Elvis's thrusts were in rhythm with every whine and moan she gave him, like a que written in sheet music,

"Fuck! Atta boy!" Cecelia growled as her eyes rolled from the jolt of his hips,

"You like that baby girl... Heh..." holding her closer to him as if she'd slip away.

"YES... YES... YES... ELVIS YES!!!" she could hear him moaning in her ear,

"It's nothing but sweet lovin for you, doll..." he whispered in her ear along with other sweet nothings. He could feel her nearing her end as she pulsated around his cock, but he knew she didn't want the fun to end. carrying her to the bed as he was still stuffed deeply inside her, Elvis laid down with Cecelia on top of him,

"Can I ride you, baby..."

"Cece, we've been married fourteen years. You really gotta ask." he kissed her collarbone, as he then kissed down to the peak of her breast,

"Tryin to keep the spark alive."

"With a body like that, it ain't never died, Cece." he groaned as his mouth latched onto her nipple. She knew there'd be a hickey. But Cecelia didn't care. After all, it was still her birthday. Grinding down on him and moving her hips, she could feel every ounce of stress leaving her body, just from feeling the tip of him touching the spot that made her go wild like a bull seeing red,

"You like that baby, you like how I ride you..."

"Mhmm...I like the view, too." he moaned, his blue eyes rolling back as his dark lashes fluttered like butterfly wings. Elvis had one hand on her waist and the other gripping her ass. His hips followed her pace and rhythm.

"Faster baby..."

"FuCk Cece!"

Elvis watched as he felt her tongue lick all the way down his chest. Oh, how did he get so lucky? His heart was racing, and he felt even more feverish. He needed to feel her tongue wrapped around his,

"Fuck Fuck Fuck!!" her back was arched as if she were about to do the bridge, lost in her own pleasure. He could hear the moans and feel Cecelia's quivering lips squeeze him tighter. Rolling over, Cecelia was now at the bottom, looking up at blue, lust-filled eyes.

"Well, hello, handsome..."

"Hello, beautiful." he smirked as she laughed, "What's so funny..."

"Your jumpsuits still on..."

"Shit, you're right... mind helpin' me remove it," he asked as he felt her kissing down from his chest and towards the zipper as she unzipped the rest with her teeth, his bottom lip between his teeth. This was another reason why she was Mrs. Presley. She could put on a good show. Kissing back up the leg, she stopped at the main event, then back at Elvis as he took his index finger under her chin and traced Cecelia's plump lips with his thumb. Her mouth opened wide as he slipped his fingers in one by one, sucking on each and every one of them as they all left with a little pop,

"Think you can take all of me now..."

"Yes, Daddy Elvis..." she was in a daze as she blushed, "Did I just..."

"Don't pay it no mind, darlin... Just show your big daddy Elvis how much that little ol mouth of yours misses me so much." Her red lips wrapped around the base of his cock. As her eyes focused on him, she could hear him moan and grunt and groan as she worked every nerve and vein with the grazing of her teeth and tongue.

Elvis was in pure bliss as he pulled at her hair,

"Don't stop, doll..."

"Oh shit... shit... shit..."

His hips began to thrust into her mouth as she pulled away,

"You fucking tease..."

"Me! a..." She played innocent as he pulled her back to his level and moved between her legs, "Tease!" she yelped as she felt him lap up all her slick wet juices. "Elvis...Elvis... Elvis..." her fingers in her own hair as she felt him nibble at her clit and lightly pull on with his teeth. sliding in his long finger, He could feel her coil about to snap at any minute, but he couldn't let her finish like this. Not after how she just left him. Cecelia's breath was hitching as she felt his finger curl into her with a beckoning motion,

"Oh! O-O- Oh Fuck fuck fuck fuck!!!" if he hadn't known she was a singer he could, sure enough, tell by the E6 note she was hitting, he was taking her there and he could tell from the way her breathing was staggering.

"EL I'M GONNA!"

He stopped as he smirked looking up at her,

"You fucking tease!"

"Me... A tease oh darlin..." Lining himself with Cecelia, he entered back in as a shudder escaped both of their bodies, the two were both stimulated enough to pick back up from where they left off. His hips were rutting against her like a dog in heat, the two were in pure bliss as his hand wrapped around her neck and squeezed gently as she felt the cool metal of his rings,

"Oh God... ELVIS FUCK ME!"

"Mmmm! BABY OH SHIT!"

Cecelia collapsed on top of him as her breathing was heavy,

"Did you uh..."

"Mhmm..." she nods.

"Did you..."

"Mhmm..." Pulling out, he got a warm towel and cleaned her up as she kissed his cheek,

"Want anything to drink," Elvis asked,

"I could drink you..." she smirked watching him stand up as she smacked his ass,

"Watch it there honey." he laughed as she smirked,

"How can I when I've got grade-A beef in my face."

As the night went on the pair was snuggled up together, under the sheets. Elvis had his arms around Cecelia playfully kissing her neck as she giggled, There was a knock on the door and the two groaned putting on their robes, it was now 11:56 pm, and outside the hotel room were Jerry and Midge rolling in two guitar shaped birthday cakes.

"Happy birthday E and C..."

"What's wrong?" Elvis looked at the two as they then looked at each other, tussled hair and bite marks, both of their hearts beating faster with just one look,

"Should we leave them..."

"Yep..."

From afar the only thing they could hear was,

"Come here, big boy..."

"Yes, baby girl..."

"Should we even wake em up tomorrow ?"

"Nah."

#oc #fanfiction #new stuff #new #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis the pelvis #70s elvis #smut #elvis x oc smut #elvis fans #elvis smut #vegas elvis #poc oc #Spotify

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f88lfool · 7 months

Text

Yasuke

Some headshots too. He’s my oc.

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dontspillthefrijoles43 · 8 months

Text

Incorrect Hoo quotes #8

Leo: Hey, wanna help me commit arson?

Breisa: What the hell!?

Leo: Oh, sorry, my bad.

Leo *whispering*: Wanna help me commit arson?

Breisa *whispering*: Of course. What do you need?

#hoo #heroes of olympus #lost hero #leo valdez #leo valdez x oc #poc oc #spanish speaking oc #fem!oc #pjo tumblr #incorrect hoo quotes #leo valdez x fem! reader #leo valdez x reader

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zepskies · 2 months

Text

And So It Goes - Part 20

Pairing: Billy Butcher x OFC (Latina!OC)

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.

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.

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