This is the story of Soldier Boy, americas greatest hero. And his relationship with the Boys and Vought, along with the only person from Payback he could trust. Warnings: 18+ Subjects and details, swearing, gore, foul language in like every fuckin- oops, every sentence. A/N: Y'all I love Eric Kripkes writing styles so I will use some of his fantastic script in this story and certain situations. Under any and all circumstances DO NOT COPY OR PUBLISH ANYWHERE ELSE. What I write here and also on my Tumblr is my original writing and ideas. Wattpad is free for little writers like me so you can read my writing for free, I hate that in this day in age I have to constantly remind others of this. But I trust y'all. Hope y'all love the story.

Y/n is ex-military, a member of the boys. She has a plot for revenge, it's all she can think about following the brutal murder of her squad at the hands of Homelander. She's so close to taking Homelander down, that is until another problem enters y/n's life. Soldier Boy. *Contains sexual content, drug use, violence*

"You're atheist," I remind him. "You don't believe in god." "I believe in you," He murmurs, letting the cigarette hang from his lips. "I believe in whatever you believe." He says, letting the confession roll off his tongue as if it were that simple. As if god, the devil, heaven, hell-as if none of it really had meaning to him. "That's not how it works," I mutter as we walk down a few more alleyways-the city of Manhattan coated in a light blanket of snow. Henry Vitiello had never had anything to pray for, that is, until he met me-the only thing that had ever opened his mind up to the possibility of religion "Isn't it?" He argues, taking the cigarette by his middle and pointer finger before blowing the smoke out. "I'II dip my hands in holy water if it means I could touch you." "You'd probably burn." 𓆩♡𓆪 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎, the reaper. He's a prick. An asshole. A pretentious son of a bitch. He's not perfect. He's not even decent. But he's hers. She could be a bottle labeled poison but he was an alcoholic, and he had drunk her empty. Now he was hungover. 𝐉𝐀𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒, the healer. She's known to be the perfect good girl, with perfect grades and a perfect life with a perfect family. They didn't know that behind the gated doors of their billion dollar estate, she was strapped down to a chair every night and picked apart just to be put back together in time for supper. 𓆩♡𓆪 star-crossed; adjective (of a person or a plan) thwarted by bad luck. 'star-crossed lovers' and that, they were. So they fucked under those very stars that tried so desperately to break them apart. 𓆩♡𓆪 ‼️DISCLAIMER ‼️ BOOK REFERENCES TO MARA DYER, SHATTER ME, MIND FUCK, ETC ARE ALL INTENTIONAL SO DONT BE RUDE. AS FOR TRIGGER WARN