Locket
main masterlist | the boys masterlist
summary: every memory of him, stored in a locket
pairing: soldier boy/ben x female supe!reader (white)
word count: 1.8k
warnings: vought being assholes, mention of egg harvesting without anesthesia or numbness
author’s note: it’s been waayyyyy too fuckin long omfggg
music: locket theme by madison beer — was listening to this song was like huh… what if the reader had a locket that she kept so she could hold onto the memory of ben? 🤔
It’d been months since you lost Ben. Months since you had stepped outside the tower, well, prison, disguised as Vought American.
You sobbed when the team had come back without him. You had gotten into a fight right before he had left. You regretted every fucking word. You regretted not running to him, kissing him, and begging him to be safe. Or, better yet, to not go at all.
The first month you were dating, Soldier Boy gave you a gold, heart locket necklace for you to wear. He hadn’t put his picture in it, he hadn’t been that bold. It was actually just a test for him — to see if you wanted him in the piece of jewelry. You immediately did, of course. You were head over heels in love with him.
You had fallen to the floor screaming, clinging to the locket, when Countess gave you the news. You eyes had shown a bright white, and your body lit up with glowing tattoos. That was everyone’s warning to get the fuck away from you, moments before you screamed again and pushed the glowing tattoos (now pieces of a thick glass-like material) off of you, flinging them all over the room.
You subconsciously played with the necklace as you crumpled and cried.
“Ben,” you sobbed. “My dear, sweet Ben.”
And just like that, your life had changed… completely, utterly, and forever.
Then you got some good news — when Vought harvested your eggs all that time ago (without any type of anesthesia, numbness, or anything to help with the immense pain. They wanted you to feel every last fucking drop). But with that torture, they’d created a precious baby boy. You had a piece of Ben, and you cried with joy.
“W-Where is he?” you asked, still crying.
“We can take you to him,” Stan Edgar said. You followed him to the nursery you didn’t realize existed, and there he was. He was so tiny. So, so tiny. And when he saw you he smiled widely before shooting his lasers in your face.
You giggled, unphased by the “attack.” You were about to pick him up, hold him in your arms when smoke suddenly started filling the room.
“What the hell?” you shouted. You turned around the room and realized you’d been too focused on your baby, that you didn’t notice everyone else left.
You fell to the ground coughing, and reaching for your baby.
“Anthony,” you whispered. You’d always wanted a baby named Anthony, after a friend of yours that helped you through the V-1 trials. You also wanted a girl, but you figured your partner could choose her name. It only seemed fair.
Then you closed your heavy eyes, and everything went black.
Months passed. Years. Fucking decades. Before you were awoken from your sleep. Someone at Vought had fucked up the dose of Holothane somehow and you woke up. You broke free within minutes, killing anyone and everyone that got in your way.
You reached for your necklace and realized it wasn’t there.
You knew you were still in the tower, so you ran. You searched your old room (which someone else had moved into. You stole some of their dirty clothes, not loving the tiny bra and panties you were in), you tore apart countless files and boxes in the records room, until you found it.
“Leverage,” the dusty box was marked, you furrowed your brows. You didn’t have time to look through it, you just grabbed the necklace and ran.
If you had looked through it you would’ve seen everything Vought could use against you — pictures and videos of Ben only you had had access to, jewelry he had given you, the ring he had carried with him to Russia and had planned to give to you the moment he got back, and baby pictures of Anthony, his story of how he grew up and everything you’d ever want to know about him.
You left the tower, hiding in corners, and killing anyone that saw you. You weren’t sure how long it had been, you weren’t sure where you were going. But then you saw an advertisement — Soldier Boy and Payback Museum. Bingo. That’s where you’d be going.
And after spending hours there, right up until they closed, you left feeling empty still. You missed him.
You missed his hearty laugh, you missed his beard, you missed the way his eyes would light up when he saw you. You missed his voice, you missed the feeling of his hands tracing your skin.
You leaned on the brick wall next to you and made your way down an alley. You fell to the cement in tears, sobbing loudly and drawing the attention of several unhoused people around you.
It was 2024, you learned that night, talking with the kind people you met. They had offered you food but you declined. You honestly weren’t hungry. You dug through the pockets of the jacket you were wearing, figuring there had to be something valuable stuffed in them, and found a wad of cash.
You split it evenly between the strangers and yourself, making sure you had enough to get by. You slept in the alley that night, and when you woke up the sun was in your eyes.
You said goodbye to your new friends and left.
You spent the next several months getting settled; researching Soldier Boy, figuring out what happened to Payback, and then learning about how… he came back from the fucking dead.
And he didn’t… find you?
Did he look? Did he know about the baby? Did he meet him? Does he know where he is now?
Questions just kept coming and coming and coming.
Then one day, after it had been nearly two years, you turned on the TV. You gasped and fell off the couch, and onto your knees.
“B-Ben!” you began to cry, gripping the locket tightly, tugging on it lightly. “Ben!”
***
Homelander sat and watched his dad do another line of coke.
“So,” he started, watching him with quite a bit of judgment. “Do you know… who my mother is?”
“Not a fuckin’ clue,” Soldier Boy said. “There was this chick I was hooking up with, but…” He looked off into the distance. “I was told she killed herself when she found out I was dead.”
“Fuck!” Homelander exclaimed. “Do you mean Inked? I remember learning about you two when I was a teenager.”
“Yeah…” Ben smiled slightly. He still couldn’t believe you would do something like that, but if he was being honest? He understood it perfectly. Finding out you were dead, gone for good? It nearly fucking killed him. But… he simply couldn’t die.
“What was her name? Maybe I can look into it, see if she’s got any family we could talk to-”
“Y/n. She didn’t have a last name, she dropped it. Well, she never told me at least. And anyone that pressured her about it usually got one of her glass-tattoo-things in their genitals.” He laughed. You were more like him than you’d like to admit. “There was this necklace I gave her though, when we first started goin’ out. If Vought kept that somewhere, I’d like to have it.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” Homelander nodded.
***
“So… interesting news,” Homelander told Soldier Boy as he walked into the conference room. “The necklace was stolen by an unidentified woman about three weeks after your quote, unquote “death” two years ago.”
Homelander showed him the pictures. It was clear Vought messed with the footage, made your face unrecognizable, but he’d recognize that body anywhere.
The curve of your hips, of your ass, of your boobs; even under the layers of clothing he could still tell… it was you.
His eyes widened. Tears came to the surface but he didn’t let them fall.
“Tha-That’s her,” Soldier Boy whispered. Homelander’s eyebrows shot up.
“Really? Soldier Boy this is great news! It means we can find her!”
That made Soldier Boy smile widely. He even let out a small laugh before he covered his face with his hands; running them from his forehead down to his neck.
“Fuck, man!” Soldier Boy exclaimed.
Ashley walked in; “I am so sorry to bother you sirs-”
“What the fuck do you want?” Homelander sneered. He looked about ready to laser her in two for interrupting the moment he had going with his long lost dad.
“There’s, uh, there’s this woman in the lobby. She’s refusing to leave.”
“Why the fuck is that our problem?” Soldier Boy spat.
“She’s, uh, she claims she knows you, Soldier Boy. She’s claiming, she, uh… well she’s claiming she’s Inked.”
Ben’s face lost all color.
“Wh-What? She’s-Fuck-She’s here? Y/n, my Y/n is here?” He could barely think straight. He needed to get to you.
“If by Y/n you mean Inked, then yeah she’s downstairs.”
The elevator ride down to the lobby was the longest of Soldier Boy’s life. Homelander’s too. He was hoping this Y/n might be his real mother.
When Ben saw you all logic flew out his mind. He raced to you; knocking over people carrying important papers, steaming hot coffee, or the executives’ lunch orders. But didn’t fucking care.
When he reached you he scooped you up into his arms without saying a word. He couldn’t, it’s like his throat was frozen solid.
He couldn’t even think about what he wanted to say to you… he was just shocked. He just kissed you, deeply.
“I love you,” you whispered against his lips between kisses.
He just nodded as if to reciprocate the feeling, he just couldn’t speak. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. You’d never seen him cry. You wiped them away with your thumbs quickly.
“Fuckin’ missed you, dude.” You smiled, tears running down your face as well. He let out a laugh.
He secretly loved when you’d call him stupid, non-romantic names; dude, bro, man.
“I-I,” he choked on his words. “I fuckin’ love you so, so much.”
He kissed you again. And again. And again. And a dozen more fucking times before Homelander cleared his throat awkwardly. Ben put you down, but kept his arms wrapped around you from behind as you began talking with Homelander.
“Uh, hi, Inked. I am The Homelander, I’m Soldier Boy’s son.”
Your eyes widened, your mouth fell open; “Holy fucking shit! Anthony? Is-Is that really you?” You broke free of Soldier Boy’s grasp and hugged your son with everything in you.
“Uh, no, I’m-”
“I know, you’re Homelander,” you let out a small laugh. “But when I first met you, I named you Anthony. He was a friend of mine, saved my life before I ever met your dad.” There was a pause in the conversation as Homelander hugged you back. He knew what you were about to say. “I’m your mom!”
