#bombsight x reader

You, who were chosen because Sage clearly remembers the day you slapped your boyfriend for saying something stupid (Accusing you of cheating, which you 100% were) and gaslit him so hard he came back within the hour with flowers and begging for your forgiveness.

You, who were chosen because Sage also recalls how at all times you always had three or more men on your roster because "if you have three, it assure you can never catch feelings for one"

You, who eventually get bored, just for the fun of it turn your sights to Homelander because you couldn't help just how easy he would be.

Homelander who never took any real notice of you other than the fact you were a pretty face, but Sage brought you on, so you had to have something. It made him suspicious of you.

Homelander, who began to understand your appeal when theories began to circle around you. He watched as people spun their own tales about you based off a few clips. One of you holding a baby, another of you back in your college days helping a girl, and the final one of you being surrounded by dogs from a pound.

Homelander, who began to pay more attention to you once you approached him. He was desired by many, but they didn't know him, you did. You were always there, so you knew him, if only a little.

Homelander, who started speaking more honestly with you around. You ignored everyone else in the Seven besides him and it's weak he knows, but he basks in that knowledge that you only pay attention to him.

Homelander, who thinks the best of you because you never mess up. (There's nothing to mess up) You never undermine him. You boost his public image whenever you appear beside him, so he stays beside you often. (Try as he might, he still needs validation)

Homelander, who preens at the little compliments you give him. Feels a shiver travel down his spine when you whisper a small "I'm proud of you."

Homelander, who grows confused when you start to pull away. Suddenly you're paying more attention to your phone than to him.

Homelander, who tries to act unaffected by the look you've just given him after trying to talk to you.

You, who a week back picked up what Sage put down. There were coordinates. Ever curious, you go, and you find someone delicious.

You who finds Bombsight and figure out who's better than him to add to your super roster.

Bombsight, who is adamant he's the one in control in this little tango between the two of you.

Bombsight, who says you're not getting a relationship out of him. All you say is "I'll change your mind."

Bombsight is sure you won't, until you both start doing things people would do in a relationship. You call him every night. You fall asleep on the phone with him. You call him baby, love, and all the other sweet names that come with being in a relationship.

Bombsight, who is beginning to enjoy the perks of having a relationship without ever being in one, and he is sure he's got you.

Bombsight knows he has you when you start telling him things like "I've never opened up to anyone like this before" and "I feel like I've known you forever."

You who's got Bombsight right where you want him, so you turn your attention back to Homelander. You've only gotten caught twice in your entire career of playing men. Once, it was a rookie mistake; he got hold of your phone. Second time? You didn't lay the groundwork well enough to be able to gaslight him into thinking you were never cheating.

You, who, at this point, have gotten so used to cheating, you don't even think it's taboo. It's a normal, and expected even, that you're bound to cheat. Your heart rate doesn't speed up because you know your little weirdo (Homelander) can hear it.

You who make sure none of your males ever align unless they're best friends who know how to keep their mouths shut and don't want to lose their friendship.

You who never keeps your phone out in the open for anyone to grab or take, and your cute pink iPad hidden somewhere no one would care to look.

You who makes sure all tangible proof can be misconstrued.

Homelander, who is starting to have withdrawals from your lack of affection. He's getting more snappy. Having more fantasies of lasering someone from the press in half.

Homelander, who, in his desperation and lack of you, lets his father, Soldier Boy, out of cryo, doesn't know he's just given you your third bitch on the roster.

You, who jumps for joy when you see Soldier Boy, and YOU KNOW it's free eats, because he screams that he's easy as hell.

Homelander, who would never assume you'd do anything with anyone else because you told him that if you ever caught him with someone else, you'd be quick to leave the Seven. Safe to say he dropped Firecracker pretty fast.

Homelander, who still gets worried when Soldier Boy goes sniffing around you, and you entertain it. But no! You'd never cheat on him, how could you when you said you'd leave him and everything else if you ever found out. He doesn't want you to leave.

Soldier Boy, who yearns to take you from his weird ass son when you tell him that he's forced you into this faux relationship, and your life and family are on the line.

Soldier Boy, who kisses you any time he can. Behind a door, in your room, in the room of the Seven when he knows Homelander is gone.

Soldier Boy, who relaxes because you give him everything he could ever want. You shower him in compliments that he doesn't think deep enough, because if he did, he'd realize they're all backhanded. But he's too busy coming to you for all the things Clara and Crimson Countess ever did for him.

Soldier Boy, who knows you chose him because you always tell him so. Over and over you whisper that it's him. That you think he's the one, that you've never been more sure about anyone other than him.

Soldier Boy, who think's stupid at first but then grows to crave your words.

Soldier Boy, who doesn't even realize you begin to just barely giving him anything, and yet he can't understand why he gets this rush of you giving him something he's not supposed to have. Maybe it's because his son is obsessed with you and had you first.

Soldier Boy, who says you want to leave it all and go off with him somewhere. He lets the idea warm him.

You, who can't help but smile at it all.

Bombsight, who still answers your call because he loves what you tell him. You call him, telling him you missed his voice. You text him, calling him your handsome boy.

You, who had mastered the art of ★Love Bombing★ and have made sure to integrate yourself into Bombsight's routine.

You, who makes sure you're the first person he wakes up to, and the last voice he goes to sleep hearing, and always making sure to sprinkle in a good dose of telling him "Baby, I just think you're the one." All the while in the next room, Soldier Boy is fucking his hand because you left him all hot and bothered, not even five minutes before you called Bombsight.

Bombsight, who thinks you might be perfect for him with your little phrases that delight him when you tell him, "We're so alike it's scary because I feel the exact same way!"

Bombsight, who starts thinking about giving you the V1 to keep you around forever. You're already a supe; some V1 just makes sure you stay forever.

Bombsight, who starts imagining a life with you when you start using "us" and "our" consistently so much so he would think it abnormal for it to be any other way.

Bombsight, who takes everything you give him and keeps it close to his heart. You told him, "I'd never leave you," after he told you about Golden Geisha.

Bombsight, who mourned in your arms Goldie and you let him without ever telling him anything and he knows you'll stay.

You, who has to suppress a smile every time you see any of your hoes.

You, who starts to hang around more with Soldier Boy, but you never do anything with him. Never letting it go beyond kissing and heavy petting.

Homelander, who is starting to get insecure with how much time you spend with Soldier Boy, so he starts changing anything and everything about himself for any small comment you make. You told him you liked his blonde hair, and that warm feeling tingled down his spine. You then told him that his roots are showing. He's damn near in the hair salon every day, making sure his roots are never visible.

Soldier Boy, who starts to get annoyed when he has to deal with seeing more and more public outings of you and Homelander.

Soldier Boy, who hates seeing Homelander having his hand on some part of you at all times.

Soldier Boy, who has to hold himself back whenever Homelander presses a kiss to your temple and you make those pleading eyes to Soldier Boy to save you. He just hasn't figured out a way to do so yet.

Soldier Boy, that casually mentions kids as a way to distract you from his weird-ass son. He tells you he wants three kids, you agree, and say you'd want them to be raised in the country. He couldn't agree more.

Soldier Boy, who tells you he wants all boys, but you warm him up to the idea of having a couple of girls, and from then on can't stop thinking about having little girls who look just like you.

You, who all the while keeps Homelander with the facade that you're a virgin and he thrives off of that, seeing as the damn fool thinks he's god now, and now you fit perfectly in his little story.

You, who knows it won't be long till Soldier Boy breaks, and his only 'relationship' is gone. And you, for one, can't wait to see that day happen.

Homelander, who agrees to wait, never knowing his father has only just earned the right to eat you out and nothing more.

Soldier Boy, who is training himself to get off from just eating you out, because it's all you're giving him. But he can't bring himself to care all that much because no one else is getting you this way.

Bombsight, who laughs at both of them because he knows he's the one for you. (He's not) Why? Because he's the one that gets to fuck you.

Robbie is good at hiding. He's always been good at the sort of thing. So when he starts wanting you in more ways than one, he's also pretty good at hiding that.

Robbie can't have a relationship with you, but maybe something a little more than what you both have now —A situationship is what they call it nowadays no?

Maybe it wouldn't hurt. Shit, every time he sees you, cooking for him, waking up across the room from him, in his clothes, using his products to shower, his cock twitches and thickens in his pants. He can only just barely hide his need for you. Just barely, with teasing and making small comments that if you ever needed to, you can always sleep with him.

You took his offer. He was dead asleep when he felt you hugging him. Well after that, it wasn't long till Robbie was snapping his hips up into you with ferocity trying to hide the fact that he's bee lonely for so long.

And your sweet words in such a short time are getting him to rethink everything.

Sweet woman.

He's looking up at you as he sinks his cock into your soaked cunt as your straddling him. His mouth is agape as he looking at you as you give him shaky moans and needy whimpers from your pouty, swollen lips. Swollen because he's kissed you too hard. But you never seem to mind, every time he kisses you he feels your walls twitch around his cock.

He wants better lighting, he needs better lighting to see what he's sure is an ethereal sight of you above him.

Robbie thinks this is lust. This is just pure pure lustful sex, but fuck! You're just so good for him.

He's special to you. You can trust him. You've given yourself to him. Maybe he's an awful guy for taking advantage of you like this, but after all your sweet words of making him feel like he's the only one for you. Robbie just can't help himself.

Even now, he can't help himself because you're close enough that he can make out your starry eyes looking down on him all sweet and he knows that he's not gonna be able to let you go like he should.

"Please Robbie!" It's all you can manage to say. It sounds so good to him. Sounds so good the way his name sound rolls off your tongue and Robbie has to remind himself to not grip you too hard lest you break.

You told him you don't do this and yet you're on top of his whining that you wanna cum, and Robbie is thoroughly enjoying every single bit of it. Pleasure that only he can give you. “Yeah? Go ahead. Fuck, don’t let me stop you, pretty girl.” And the sight that follows, well, he can live in the moment for eternity. Your eyes squeeze shut before you’re creaming around his cock, his hands moving up your sides before cupping your face and pulling you into a sloppy, wet, bruising kiss.

Theres a bliss that blooms in Robbie whenever he feels your heartbeat race around him. It flushes every part of him when he can feel and hear your heartbeat, desperately trying to keep up. Even more so as he's kissing you, filling you up with his load while you moan and breathe your sighs across his lips in a tone he's sure his next wet dream will be about.

Robbie his holding on to you as he comes down from his orgasm and still lost in his hormone-drunken haze when he suddenly flips you and has you under him all the while he presses soft slow kisses over your face. He bathes in the sweet sounds of your whimpers at the over stimulation. He pulls back, looking down at you, and you have this dreamy look on his face that punches him in the gut when he recalls that he told you he can't ever be with you.

You give him a sweet smile and his cock twitches awake inside of your tight walls once more.

Maybe it doesn't sound like all that bad of an idea.

Soldier Boy, who tells you about the supe killing virus.

You, who starts to panic, because no one ever said your life would really be in danger. Males, you can handle. A virus? You're not so sure.

Soldier Boy, who comforts you by saying that both of you need to find Bombsight because he has the V1 and that it's the cure.

You, who gives a smile and a small laugh before agreeing. Your dumbass man, who says he's gonna work with Homelander to find it and then give it to you.

You, who knows you're gonna get in about a week, tops.

Bombsight, who can't get a clear reading on you. One moment you text him back within ten minutes, other times you don't respond after 10. But he knows you're online because you post on your social media. Small pictures every now and then.

Bombsight, who calls you out about not responding to him, but somehow always ends up taking the blame for you. "You said you didn't want a relationship, and I thought I was coming on too strong. I was giving you space."

Bombsight, who kicks himself over the fact that it is what he said, and it was stupid to say.

Bombsight, who panics when you start alluding to breaking up. He tells you that you told him you'd never leave him. So how could you!?

You, who only said, "But we're not together in a relationship, remember?" It took a week for him to come back begging for you.

Bombsight, who comes back with the V1, says he wants to spend eternity with you. He's on one knee, opening the box and giving it to you like it's a wedding ring.

You, who only look down at him as he looks up to you with such pleading eyes, it takes everything in you to not burst out laughing at him.

Bombsight, who stays still. You've given him heaven, and now you're giving him limbo.

You, who finally accepts and Bombsight gives you the V1.

Sage, who couldn't be happier with your work because it's only a matter of time before you grow bored and leave, or let them all know about one another.

You, who acts the pious one ever, tells Bombsight to go save Goldie, all the while Soldier Boy calls you to come get the V1 he'll take from Robbie before Homelander ever gets his hands on it.

Homelander, who will still take the V1, but before he does, he'll have his best workers make another one by reverse engineering the one he'll take and then give that second dose to you.

Homelander, who proposes to you, and you say yes, and so he's secured his virgin wife.

"Look, all we're after is the V1. You hand that over, we go home happy." MM spoke and Robbie looked over to him.

He looked back over to Goldie. Robbie is fast, but not fast enough to stop the bullet. "I can't."

"Robbie." Goldie called out and Robbie sighed.

"I can't because I don't have it. Haven't had it for weeks." He looked over to Goldie. "You said you weren't gonna change your mind. It took time for me to accept that, and I did."

"What the fuck do you mean you don't have it?" Butcher pressed the gun into her head.

Robbie is long over Goldie, but it doesn't mean he doesn't care about her. He wants her to have a good life. That's all. "Stop!"

"Where is the V?" Butcher asked once more.

"I already administered it to someone else." No point in hiding it. He just needs to save Goldie and then go back to you. That's it, that's all.

"Who?" Hughie stepped forward. It's not Homelander. That's a win, right?

Sage spoke your name, and Robbie's head snapped towards her. How would she know that? "She works fast. For weeks, you said? Soldier Boy must've told her, and what? You cracked within a week when she told you?"

"What are you talking about?"

"What are you talking about?"

Both MM and Robbie spoke. Sage only shrugged. "What? Back up for the back up. If this didn't work, then she would."

Was Robbie played? No. You wouldn't. Not after everything. You wouldn't.

"And that I did." You appeared behind Sage. MM jumped back, and Sage froze as your arms wrapped around her. Your head rested atop hers. "To be fair, I had no idea about the V1 until Soldier Boy told me about y'all's virus."

You smiled over to Robbie, offering him a smile. So then he wasn't played? Things just lined up. Yeah, that's what happened. That's what he decides happens. Before he can say anything more he's charged by Ben.

"Where's the V1 Robbie?" Ben hissed in his ear, and Robbie threw him off.

"Gone." Robbie knew you had to put on an act for Soldier Boy and Homelander, but he was different. He was your boy. You hadn't even bothered to tell Ben that you already had the V1.

Ben looked over to Goldie, who only looked at you.

You looked over to MM and muttered, "This is always my favorite part."

Robbie scoffed and walked over to you, calling your name. He held out his hand. You stood still. Ben called your name, asking what fuck this was.

You stood there trying to hold in your laughter, but looking at both of them, gosh, you just couldn't. You began laughing. "I'm sorry." Was all you could manage between small little laughs. Suddenly, life was filled with sunshine and rainbows. You lived for this shit. The look of realization they've both been cheated, or even better, when they don't care, and they still want you.

Now to find out which is which. Your primary concern was Soldier Boy, seeing as he could fry the V out of you. Bombsight was a hard hitter, and Homelander, you're sure is to be due any minute.

Your plan was simple: you could keep Robbie as a side piece; you had laid the groundwork for him for over a year. He was solid. Ben wasn't. You need Ben back in that box so that one day, when you get tired of all of this, you unfreeze him and, in anger, he fries the V out of you. Simple. Homelander, well, he had to go.

So your laughing turned into crying. Tears of joy, but not that they would know that.

"Hey! Hey, hey, hey!" Robbie ran up to you, wiping your tears whilst everyone watched, and Ben stood there trying to understand what the fuck was happening. How the fuck did you know Robbie? How did Robbie know you!? And why the fuck is he wiping your tears like he knows you!?

"I'm scared." You muttered wiping your tears.

"Of what?"

"Homelander." You looked behind Robbie and to Ben, whose brows were still furrowed in utter confusion.

"Why?" Robbie's hand tilted your gaze back to him.

Ben made a face.

"He said he wanted me to ascend with him. Something about being the virgin or something. He-"

"What the fuck?" Robbie looked down. Virgin where? He's been making love to you for the past year. You weren't a virgin then. Robbie knew you had to play it for the cameras, but to know you had to go this far. His heart ached seeing you cry. His poor girl.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Ben walked over to you, and you stepped away from Robbie. Was this another act? But why? For what? You wouldn't do this to him. Not after everything you've said. You wanted kids with him. So then what the fuck was this?

"He wants some kind of marriage and kids. I don't know!" Your lips trembled as you forced more tears out. Maybe they were real tears because holy fuck when Homelander told you about that, that was the fucking scariest shit you've ever heard in your entire life!

Robbie cupped your face, and Ben had just about had enough of this. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"And why the fuck would she-" You cut Soldier Boy off before things could turn on you.

"Because I thought I could handle it! I was wrong. I'm sorry, I just-"

Robbie shushed you before kissing your forehead. "It won't come to that. I swear it."

And with that, he flew off. Your eyes looked back at Ben. "Ben-"

"What the fuck was that!?"

You walked over to him, and before he could start cussing, you kissed him. You felt him tense before relaxing. You pulled back. "Ben, listen to me." He did. "I've been in the Seven for a while. I didn't even know who you were, but I knew I needed someone, anyone, who could protect me. That's all Bombsight is to me." Your hands cradled his face. "I love you, Ben. No one else. I meant every word I said. I do want children with you. I still want to leave, but I can't do that if Homelander is after us. I want our children to grow without any fear." You pulled his hand against your chest, your heart beat was fast. You always got a thrill out of these things. "Please, Ben."

He gave a sigh, and you pushed down a smile. He looked up towards the hole made by Bombsight and shook his head. He gave you one final kiss before running out.

You watched him with a smile and then "Pfft!" You turned around with a small laugh. "How was I?"

"Oscar worthy." Sage smiled and clapped.

"Right? Fuck I almost fumbled when I laughed." You shook your head. "Y'know, I wondered what it was you wanted with me, but I'm assuming it was this?"

"I knew you wouldn't be able to help yourself."

You only smiled and shrugged.

"Oi!"

You turned and caught the flask thrown at you. You smiled, giving a small cheer before drinking. You walked back over to him, handing him the flask. "I have you to thank." You bent down, looking at Goldie. "Had you not dumped Bombsight, this would've taken a whole lot longer." You smiled, going to put a hand on her lap. "So thank you for not choosing Robbie."

She created a force field, knocking you back. You rolled your eyes, standing up, dusting yourself off.

"You don't deserve him." She hissed out and only shrugged.

"Debatable. He's just a man, you know? All men are dogs, that includes golden retrievers like him." You pursed your lips, giving her a slow nod before laughing. You turned around, motioning to go. "I secured front row seats. I'd hate to see it go to waste."

You, who in the end got everything you wanted.

Homelander, who looked up to you, was heartbroken and angry when it was revealed that Soldier Boy had access to you in a way that you always denied him, and that Bombsight had been fucking you for a year, and you looked him in the face and lied like it was second nature.

Your face was the last thing he saw before Butcher ripped him in half.

Soldier Boy, who gasped for air as Bombsight choked him out, all the while you smiled as you waved goodbye.

Your face was the last thing he saw before he was put back into that damn box.

Bombsight, who still didn't get that you couldn't give two shits about him.

In the end, your face was constantly shoved down his throat as you went back and took over the Seven, reforming it, seeing as you had no prior offenses.

Still though. You laid down the groundwork for Bombsight exceptionally well, so even after everything, he still can't help but want you. And after all, you have all of eternity with him.

Nav.

m.list

Guess who's my favorite out of the three 🤭

How I imagine the boys seeing how reader was playing SB and BS🥱

The announcement is on. The president recites his speech as if his life depends on it. But how couldn’t he after the greatest battle America's heroes just won?

Roars come from the crowd as the greatest supes get on stage to receive their honors. Men whistle and compliment Liberty and Private Angel, the two female companions of Payback. And when Torpedo, Bombsight and Soldier Boy appear, ladies swoon and scream so loud one could swear their panties dropped.

Soldier Boy, as the great leader of Payback he is, gives a short speech on stage, putting on a handsome smile, giving details of their last mission. Once again, we are safe from comunism and trusting up on our moral institutions, we must respect American values and the new big corporations are not definitely making any profit from it, hooray! People clap, and you follow.

Standing on the other side of the stage, you beam, with proud. Proud of your soldier - the real soldier - finally getting recognition. Robbie catches a glimpse of your loving eyes from the side. He smiles back and winks at you before standing straight, looking at the crowd. You feel a heat scattering your cheeks. Ah, yes it still feels like the day you met when you were just two kids foling around. Now, look where you are.

When the pictures, speeches and patronizing are done, the team leaves through the other side of the stage. The staff claps and celebrates backstage as the supes make their parade through the aisle. Robbie finally finds its way to you and you jump right there, hugging him and never, ever letting go, sparking that laugh of his you love so much.

"I'm so proud of you!" a grin so wide on your lips, arms around his neck, his hands rest on your sides so slightly. "You are a hero, honey!"

"Well, ain't a sweet surprise having you here, my love?" he adds with a playful voice, and then gives a gentle kiss to your cheek.

You chuckle. "I have something for you, c'me here."

You walk a few steps to the corner of the backstage, where people already dissipated, except for just a few. There's a beautiful bucket of flowers resting on a chair that you take and place in front of your fiancé with a teeth showing beam and shinny eyes. Robbie takes them happily.

"For you," you say, his eyes go soft.

"Doll, you didn’t have to..."

"But I wanted to. It's been a long time since I saw you."

Robbie leans to you and finally kisses your lips. You savour the moment, as much as you can with a pair of eyes you have felt even before you encountered Robbie. A hard pair of green eyes, looking at both of you from afar.

When you break the kiss for air, you fix the collar of Robbie's jacket. You touch his cheek and nose affectionaly, with a gentleness Soldier Boy could sense. And he observes throughly the way you speak so naturally with Bombsight. How he takes your hand and intertwines his fingers of his free hand with yours, playing with the ring he proposed you with, pulling your frame even closer.

Soldier Boy has watched you before. The receptionist at Vought. The first smile he sees every damn day he gets to that hideous building in the middle of the city. He's had all the ladies he's ever wanted, but you. You kindly always said no, and when he found out Bombsight was the reason, Soldier Boy fumed with rage.

How could he get a woman like you?

Bombsight wasn’t number one at Vought's experiments.

He wasn’t leading the audience.

He wasn’t the strongest.

He wasn’t the handsomest.

He wasn’t an imposing leader.

He wasn’t Soldier Boy.

That was what attracted you to Robbie. His idealism, his romantic side, his soft-spoken voice... None of those things is Soldier Boy.

Robbie never saw you as a game, or a new girl to get his hands on and then toss away. You were very aware of Soldier Boy's reputation with the ladies. And you, you weren’t interested in becoming one more of them. That's why you kindly declined his charm.

And he thought someday you'd just give in. He snorts to himself as you walk together his way.

Robbie, on the other side always wanted to be chosen. Corresponded. Taken care of. Loved.

And that's what Ben can't handle.

The stupidest of all feelings. The most basic of all the needs of a human being. But he's not human anymore. He is not just another man. He is the greatest supe in America, the most perfect model of masculinity, heroism and patriotism of the century.

He doesn’t have time for pettiness. And love - he confess to himself - is a trivial thing. He doesn’t need that.

You smile, kind and cute as always, when you pass his side, clinging to your man. Bombsight salutes to his leader, smile vanishing away. Soldier Boy nods his head as both pass by, and notices the idiot saves the soft side and true beams for you.

What a bunch of fucking malarkey.

Soldier Boy is anything, but a wimpy little boy who craves for a woman's soft touch.

He spends the rest of the day - and probably the rest of his life - convincing himself he is not one made for feelings.

"It's not like that—"

"Sure seems like it. I get a message from my manager, don't come in, the part's going to Soldier Boy. Fucking typical." He clicks his tongue.

"I didn't peg you for an attention whore." You quip, and something you can't name flickers behind his eyes.

"It's not that..." He starts, stepping towards you. There's a pang in your gut, and you're hoping this isn't going where you think it is. This feels familiar, like a conversation you had the day before...with Ben.

He comes closer, hands hovering in front of him in nervous hesitation. "He doesn't deserve you."

"Robbie—"

"No seriously. For months I’ve seen you sad over him, his lack of regard for you, his avoidance. He's been hurting your feelings, hurting you, and now because he gets jealous everything’s fine?"

He gets closer, and you sigh.

"We have history—"

“So do we.” Another step, and your back hits the dresser.

“I love him.”

“You love me too.”

“As a friend, Robbie. I, I do care about you okay, you're one of my closest friends. I’m not trying to hurt you—"

“Yet you are.” He comes to a stop right in front of you, close enough to make you nervous. Not because you think he'd get aggressive with you, he wouldn’t. But it's friendlier than usual.

You press yourself further against the dresser, bringing your hands in front of you to placate him. "Robbie.."

“You have two seconds to get the fuck away from my woman.” Ben appears in the doorway, beelining to you, but gets stopped in the middle by Robbie stepping up to him.

"You don't own her, Ben."

"She chose to be with me fuckduck, get over it. Leave her alone."

You feel the tension thicken, and your heart starts to beat faster. "Guys please—"

"You don't know how to cherish her, how to appreciate her, make her feel valued. You're too fucking selfish, always thinking about yourself. You'll only end up hurting her more than you already have." Robbie spits, and Ben bristles in anger.

You try again. "Hey—"

"Oh and you think you can? Your ass was sniffing powder off the bathroom sink of a pizza joint not too long ago. The fuck do you know about being responsible enough for a relationship? She deserves better than a half ass dimwit."

You finally snap. "Oh for fucks sake, I'm right here! Stop acting like I'm the last premium cut at the butcher shop."

They look at you apologetically, but still mad. You continue.

"Robbie, you've been a good friend to me, you have, but I don't see you as more than that, I'm sorry. I love Ben."

The latter wants to gloat but winds it down at your imploring look.

He doesn't have more to say, scoffing and shaking his head at you in disbelief and anger. "Whatever."

He stomps out of the room and you call after him, which seems to upset Ben. "Oh what, you having second thoughts now?"

"What? No, he's my friend. I care about his feelings, I'm not trying to hurt him."

His stare hardens, a thousand thoughts running through his mind, none of them pleasant.

He was mad that you seemed to care so much, inklings of doubt taking over his brain, not letting him see reasonably. "Well maybe you don't have to. Go ahead, run after him if you want. Since you seem so desperate to coddle him."

"Ben—" You try, but he's already huffing out the door too.

You stand there stunned, and sad. Spacing out long enough for the director's assistant to come grab you for the shoot.

They couldn't find Soldier Boy anywhere.

You could see how frustrated everyone was getting, how the photographer was fuming. They focused on some solo shots for now, but there were only so many pictures they could take before they needed to move on.

All the tension was making you feel sick. Not to mention the added stress of your best friend and boyfriend being upset with you. Could you even call them that anymore?

Did they both break it off?

After another minute you let everyone know you were taking a break, and headed up to the roof.

There you finally let yourself cry, makeup be damned. You weren't sure he would even show up anyway anymore.

You're so caught up in your tears you don't hear the roof door open and close, jolting a little when a pair of strong arms wrap around you.

They enclose your waist, and you turn in them to face him hesitantly. You can't look him in the eyes for too long though, looking down at his chest instead, your hands fiddling with his costume. You really can't handle if he starts getting mad again, it's been a long ass day.

He sighs, looking at you with tendrils of regret flaring. He heard you, before he walked in. How you stood your ground, didn't hide him, instead proudly showcasing your love. It was genuine, straight from the heart. His emotions (and ego) got the best of him when he saw how upset you got over Robbie, and he kicks himself for it at the sight of your pretty face shining with steady tears.

"M'sorry, sweetheart. I know the two of you are...close. And I can't help feel like, this thing with you is too good to be true. Like, it'll get taken away at any moment if I let my guard down. But it's not fair to take that out on you. I—care about you too. A lot." He stutters out in a low murmur, softening the ache in your chest.

He has a hard time saying 'the words', but you know he means it.

You bring your hands up to his cheeks, luring him into a sweet kiss. He melts into it without meaning to, his warm hands tightening on your waist, thumbs caressing you softly.

You peck him twice softly before pulling away, shining eyes looking into his. "Ben I meant it when I said I love you. I do. I have for so long, since the market days when we were just two normal people on a busy street. I love you, so much it makes me feel sick in the best way."

"That doesn't sound like a good thing."

"It's a great thing if it means I get to be with you, to love you." You respond gently, pressing another kiss to his cheek. His eyes soften further, leaning in close, lips pressing gently against yours but not kissing you, yet.

"I love you too, trouble."

He kisses away any rebuttal you have, feeling you smile against him.

The public loves your relationship.

On the cover of every newspaper and magazine, it's the talk of the town. The weeks go by in a blur, Vought using the publicity to their advantage and pushing the team out. You guys went on legitimate missions sometimes, but mostly you were all doing something to boost their image. Interviews, commercials, events, shows—always something, always busy.

A strange phase in the life.

The positive side was getting to be with Ben all the time. You had him nearby when you needed him, when the cameras got too bright and the reporters too suffocating. He was there to usher you away, shut them up when you needed a minute.

Sadly it wasn't enough knowing you could use your powers against them if you really wanted to, it took a man's word for them to leave you alone.

Assholes.

Robbie didn't talk to you much anymore, only exchanging some words in front of the cameras to avoid negative gossip. Hanging out with Angel and Torpedo most of the time, away from you and your boyfriend.

He avoided you as much as he could, similar to how Ben did all those months ago. Weird how their roles ended up flipping, but it makes you feel a twinge in your heart. You didn't like this scenario either way, you cared for them both.

In different ways, but it was still genuine love.

You're checking some inventory in the armory when he finally approaches you, couple weeks since you last fought. "Hey.."

You straighten up in surprise. "Hi."

You're both standing awkwardly for a few moments, before you decide to break the ice. "How have uh, how've you been?"

He sighs, looking down for a second before he looks up at you again. "Look I'm, I'm sorry for how I've been treating you..avoiding you."

You nod, pausing before you respond. "I mean I get it...you're mad.."

He shakes his head. "Not anymore. I was, at first. He always gets everything. And it's not your fault I caught feelings, hard not to honestly. I just...I wish you'd chosen me."

You feel a sting in your eyes. "Robbie—"

"No I, It's okay, really. I get it now, after all this time. The way you two are with each other...that's not fake. No matter how talented of an actress you are."

You smile slightly at that, sighing sadly. "I'm sorry, you know. If I, led you on in some way—"

"You didn't."

"Well, still. I didn't mean to hurt you, but I did. I'm sorry. M'not sorry for loving him though." You whisper, and he nods solemnly.

"Yeah, I get that."

He comes closer, hesitating for a moment, waiting for your reaction, but you let him pull you into a warm hug.

You try to blink tears away, relishing in the feel of hugging your best friend again after so long, sad about the circumstances.

Before you part, he whispers one last thing into your ear. "Call me when he ends up breaking your heart, I'll be here."

He then kisses your cheek tenderly, before walking away.

part one ᝰ. ben masterlist ᝰ. main masterlist

『••✎••』

You’ve loved Robbie since the cracked leather seats of smoky backroom bars in the 1950s, when Vought still pretended to be something noble and the Cold War felt like it might actually end in fire. He was Bombsight then—cocky test pilot turned supe, reddish-brown leather suit always smelling of jet fuel and aftershave, laughing too loud over cheap whiskey while the other heroes postured for cameras. You fell for him the night he dragged you onto the dance floor after a mission gone sideways, his hand steady on your waist with a strength that would’ve killed a normal person.

“C’mon, dollface,” he’d grinned, voice warm with that old New York edge softened by too many hours in the cockpit. “World’s ending anyway. Might as well spin.”

Your first kiss happened in the alley behind that bar, rain soaking through your coat, his mouth tasting like smoke and bourbon. He’d pressed you against the brick like you were the only real thing left in a world full of Vought lies, murmuring against your lips, “You and me, sweetheart. We’re the ones who last.” You believed him. You let yourself believe him, even as you hid the true extent of your powers—time manipulation that let you reverse wounds, fast-forward decay, or freeze moments like this one—because Vought collected weapons, not people.

You two burned hot and jealous for years: him resenting how easily you could undo time’s damage, you hating how unbreakable and reckless he stayed, flying headfirst into danger like it was his only religion. You hated each other almost as much as you needed each other. Then life, Vought’s rotations, and your deliberate fading into the background pulled you apart. Decades passed. You buried the old feelings under layers of cynicism.

Until now.

You stand in the sterile halls of Vought Tower, heart hammering as you freeze time around Soldier Boy. The world goes silent and gray, Homelander’s distant voice cutting off mid-rant somewhere down the corridor. Ben’s eyes widen slightly when he realizes he can still move—your power never worked perfectly on the originals. He’s older, harder, fresh from cryo and betrayal, but that same swagger remains.

He doesn’t flinch. That was always his gift—taking the impossible in stride and turning it into something he could own. His green eyes lock onto yours, scanning the face that hasn’t aged the way it should have, the subtle lines you could never quite erase without drawing attention.

He knew.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he drawls, voice low and rough like gravel under boots. The corner of his mouth ticks up in that familiar half-smirk, the one that used to make Robbie clench his fists in the bar. “I got no intention of selling you out. Yet.”

He steps closer, frozen particles of dust hanging between you like tiny stars. His gaze drops briefly to your hands—still slightly trembling from holding this bubble of reality tight around the two of you—then back to your eyes. There’s a flicker of something genuine there, old and complicated. Respect? Curiosity? Maybe even affection, buried deep beneath decades of betrayal and survival.

“Figured you’d still be around,” he admits quietly, a rare crack in the armor. “And I’m willing to bet that flyboy fucker is still sniffing around too.”

Ben’s head tilts, studying you like he’s cataloging every change, every similarity. He’s assessing you the way he always did—looking for weaknesses, leverage, anything to tip the scales. And judging by the way his smile widens slightly, he’s already found what he needs. He’s always been an opportunistic bastard when it came to getting what he wanted.

And that’s how you ended up here—staring down at the man you once loved, wrapping a wound on his shoulder while the sky lit up with two identical beams of red light. It was official. You were fucked. Astronomically, cosmically fucked.

Soldier Boy’s deal with you had been simple: he’d keep quiet about your powers and your past with him if you gave him intel on Robbie, and given Homelander’s recent… meltdown, you couldn’t risk exposure. Not now, not with so many pieces in play. You’d spent decades hiding, and you weren’t about to let your carefully constructed life crumble because a 1940s fossil recognized your face.

So, of course, the minute you unfroze time and Soldier Boy slipped away, you’d gone straight to Robbie to give him a heads-up. At first, you thought he’d heed your warning—he was invested in giving V1 to Golden Geisha anyways—but seeing him now, wrapping a handkerchief around his bleeding shoulder against a tree, you realized he in fact had not.

“What did you do…?” you ask, trying to keep the tremor out of your voice as the smell of burnt sugar wafts through the air. You move closer, your shoes crunching on the fallen leaves. “What the hell did you do?”

He didn’t look at you, but you didn’t need to see the expression on his face to hear the resignation in his tone. “What I had to.”

You stop a few feet away, the crisp air catching the hem of your coat. “What you had to? I told you—I warned you about Ben, about them coming for the V1. You were supposed to protect it! To keep it out of their hands!” You could feel the heat of your own anger rising, old frustrations bubbling to the surface. Decades of watching him make the same reckless choices, and now… this. “And you, what? Made a deal with the devils behind my back? All so you can bleed out on the grass like a dog?”

Your words hit harder than any punch, and you see it in the way his shoulders tense. Robbie finally looks at you, and the raw emotion in his eyes—hurt, defeat, exhaustion—shocks you into silence. He looks old. Not in age, but weary. Tired of the fight, tired of running, tired of everything. He looks like a man who’s been carrying a weight for so long he’s forgotten what it feels like to stand straight.

“Don’t you dare,” he starts, voice strained as he presses the makeshift bandage tighter. “Don’t you stand there and pretend this is the same as before. That this is about being reckless.” He pushes himself up from the tree, his movements stiff with pain. “This isn’t about glory, or Vought, or any of that bullshit we used to swallow. I’m tired, alright? I’m tired of living as a ghost, of watching the world spin on without me, of being a permanent relic in a museum I never asked to be in.”

He takes a step closer, the space between you charged with years of unsaid things. “So yeah. I made a deal because he offered me the one thing you would never have given me. A chance to finally be done.”

“Well congratulations,” you shoot back, the words dripping with venom. “Looks like you got your wish.”

“Don’t be a smartass,” he snaps, his patience fraying. “You think I wanted this? To end up in the middle of your pissing contest with Soldier Boy and Homelander? To have to choose between two different versions of hell?” He gestures vaguely at the sky, at the distant sounds of chaos. “Don’t forget, you’re the one who brought him to me. If you weren’t so careless—”

“Careless?” The accusation hangs in the air between you, sharp and sudden. You take a step back as if struck. “You want to talk about careless? You, who jumps into every fight like it’s your last chance to prove something? You, who never learned that sometimes the smartest move is to not make a move at all?”

“I was protecting—”

“No,” you cut him off, your voice dangerously quiet. “It’s like you said. This isn’t about protecting anything. This is about you. About your ego, your need to be the martyr. You’re not tired, Robbie. You’re bored.”

He flinches, and you know you’ve hit the nerve—the one he’s been nursing for years, the one that’s fueled every reckless decision, every near-miss, every self-destructive impulse. You can see the old fire in his eyes, the one that used to draw you in, but now it just looks like desperation.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know you,” you say, your voice barely a whisper. “I know you better than anyone. And I know that you would rather burn the world down than admit that you’re scared of being left behind in it.”

You’re both breathing hard now, the silence that follows your words heavier than the one you’d created with your power. You can feel the old familiar pull, the way you always get drawn into his orbit, the way he always manages to get under your skin. For a moment, you think he’s going to argue, to throw more words back in your face. But then he just looks at you, really looks at you, and the anger in his eyes is replaced by something else. Something you haven’t seen in a long, long time.

“Maybe you’re right,” he says, the admission costing him something. “Maybe I am scared. But you know what? So are you.”

He takes another step closer, so close you can feel the warmth coming off him despite the chill in the air. “You’ve spent your whole life hiding, running from what you are. You hide behind your control, your careful little plans, but you’re just as trapped as I am. The only difference is, I’m finally doing something about it.”

If this was back then—back in the fifties, in the alley behind the bar—you would have hit him. Or kissed him. Maybe both. Probably both. But you’re not the same person you were then, and neither is he. The world has changed, and so have you. The realization is a bitter pill to swallow, but you force it down anyway. You’re tired of fighting the same war, tired of being the only one who remembers the promises made in the dark.

“You’re wrong about me.” You say it, but the words ring hollow, even to your own ears.

“About which part?” he asks, a ghost of that old smirk on his face. “The part where you’re hiding? Or the part where you’re trapped?”

“No,” you say, shaking your head, trying to clear it. “You’re wrong about me not giving you an out.”

You reach out then, your fingers brushing against the rough fabric of his jacket, right over the makeshift bandage on his shoulder. He doesn’t pull away. You let your power flow, a gentle, familiar warmth spreading from your fingertips. It’s not a full reversal—you wouldn’t do that to him, not again—but it’s enough. The bleeding slows, the torn flesh beginning to knit together under your touch. It’s the most you can offer him, the most you’ll allow yourself.

“I would’ve given you anything, Robbie,” you whisper, the words a raw, open wound between you. “I would’ve done anything for you. All you had to do was ask.”

The look in his eyes then is a punch to the gut, a dizzying, gut-wrenching mixture of regret, longing, and something so raw and vulnerable it takes your breath away. For a second, it’s like the decades have melted away, and you’re back in that alley, the rain soaking through your clothes, his mouth on yours, the world fading away until it’s just the two of you. Just you and him, and the promise of something more.

But then he blinks, and the moment is gone. The hard mask is back in place, the weary resignation settling over him like a shroud. He lets out a soft sigh, a quiet, resigned sound that’s somehow worse than any argument.

And you realize you can’t bear it. You can’t stand here, in this godforsaken field of trees, with the ghost of the man you used to love, and watch him self-destruct. Not again.

You pull your hand back as if his skin is on fire, the sudden loss of contact leaving you feeling cold and empty. You turn away from him, unable to look at him for another second. “I have to go,” you say, your voice tight. “I have to get back before—”

“Before what?” he asks, a hint of that old defiance back in his tone. “Before they realize you’re gone? Before they figure out you’re not the perfect little Vought soldier you pretend to be?”

“You found peace with dying. Good for you.” You turn to face him, and this time you let him see everything—all the anger, the hurt, the years of loneliness, the desperate, aching need to matter to someone, to anyone. “I haven’t.”

Before he could say anything, convince you to stay, you fast-forward just enough to put distance between you and him. You don’t go far—just to the treeline, far enough that you’re out of sight but not so far that you can’t still see him through the gaps in the leaves. You watch him stand there, a solitary figure against the backdrop of the burning sky, looking lost and broken.

You know eventually you’ll go back—back to him, but for now you stay watching him, your heart aching with the familiar, bittersweet pain of a love that never quite died. You stay until the red light in the sky fades to a dull, angry glow. You stay until he finally turns and walks away, disappearing into the shadows.