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nanabrainrot · 4 months

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pick your battles

cw: big bro! yuuta x fem & afab reader, dead dove do not eat, explicit, reader wears lingerie and a dress, yuuta is sweet but Controlling, nii-san use, oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex, mult. orgasms, overstimulation, creampie, cockwarming, size kink & slight pain with that, he's taller than you, yuuta's kinda a lifestyle dom, 2k words

18+, minors dni please

When you finally hear Yuuta’s keys jingling at the door you shoot up from your place on the couch—immediately alert from the half-asleep state you’d been waiting for him in. Then you’re rushing over to greet him, all eager in your frilly little stockings and garter belts, donning the tiniest dress you could get your hands on, all for your big brother.

Yuuta’s tired eyes widen when he sees you, his breath hitching in the most satisfying way. He catches you when you run into him then, cradling you softly to his chest. The movement flows naturally—it’s routine.

“Welcome home, nii-san!”

“Thanks, pretty girl! Missed you today.” There’s a sweet kiss to your hairline. Then he’s running his eyes down you thoughtfully before leaning away.

“Step back for me, love, I wanna see what you’re wearing.”

You do a little twirl for him, ruffling up your lace with the biggest grin.

“Where’d you get such a pretty outfit?” He asks, tone soft the way it’s always reserved to be for you—although you catch the barest hint of worry.

“I ordered it! For you—thought you might get sick of the same old pajamas I wear around the house all the time.”

He laughs lightly through his nose.

“I’d never. You do look really cute though—I’m glad you bought it.”

You're clinging onto his arm by the time he’s finished his sentence and playing with his fingers, practically climbing him like he’s your personal jungle gym. You always do that when he’s been gone too long—he knows it means you missed him extra.

“Well I bet you’re hungry—let me make us some food. Then we can watch some TV, okay?”

You make a noise of excitement. “Can we watch a movie tonight, yuu?”

“Mmm not the whole thing, but we could start one. You know you’ve got class in the morning, pretty.”

Once you’re both fed, Yuuta lets you pick a movie to start—you settle on your favorite rom com. You don’t even get through the opening credits before you’re snuggled into Yuuta’s lap, latched to him like a koala while he holds you safe and secure.

Much too soon, however, Yuuta’s turning off the screen—pausing it to finish another day; it’s late.

You frown, unable to hold back a plea of “c’mon nii-san, can’t we watch a little longer? Please?”

His voice is still soft and patient but his expression is firm when he responds. “We talked about this, love. What’d I say?”

“Nii-san always knows what’s best for me.” You mumble, squishing a cheek against his shoulder in defeat.

He rubs your back a bit. “There’s my smart girl. ‘T’s true, now let’s get ready for bed”

Ultimately, when it comes to ensuring you make good choices, Yuuta has to pick and choose his battles with you. Your best interest isn’t always enough to make you a perfect listener—and he thinks he might go to hell for choosing pausing the movie as tonight’s battle instead of making you change into more modest comfortable pajamas. You even insist on keeping on your ridiculous thigh-high socks and connecting straps, leaving Yuuta wondering how conscious you are of their effect on him.

Whether you predicted it or not, when you snuggle into bed with him that night, Yuuta can’t help but get so hard so quickly.

It's only made more difficult the way your leg wraps so tightly around his—half on top of him too so your thigh is snug against his boxers while your core is only applying more and more pressure to the hardness of his hip.

After barely a minute you’ve crawled all the way on top so you’re straddling him while he hugs you to his chest, your panties sitting snugly over the massive bulge in his boxers.

You don’t wait long before you’re not-so-innocently grinding down again. And yuuta can’t act normal any longer.

“Pretty girl—“ his voice comes out strained, “how are you feeling?”

Your answer is a needy “so sticky, nii-san. Can you help?”

His hand glides over your ass to rub over the patch of your panties covering your pussy, feeling you there and finding you soaked. You whine at his touch.

He pecks the top of your head, sighing before asking, “you want nii-san to take care of it for you?”

You nod quickly. Then he’s using one hand to guide your hips so you’re still grinding down on him, helping you press your clothed clit more firmly against his cock with each thrust. At the same time he sticks two fingers in his mouth, covering them in spit before easing one into your dripping hole from behind, working you open before inserting another.

It feels heavenly the way he goes so deep inside you—always hitting magic spots that somehow don’t exist without him there to find them. It’s toe-curling, and sooner than later he’s thrusting hips up to meet your frantic grinding and then you’re coming undone around him. You cum hard, clutching the fabric of his shirt so tight you’re sure you might tear it while burying your face in his chest, rocking your hips like mad with his help. Once you’ve come down, Yuuta wipes as much of your release out of you as he can manage with his fingers, likely to minimize the mess, before sucking them clean, rubbing your back soothingly all the while.

You let your breath even out before you’re whispering the words—

“Nii-San I need more. Please.”

There’s a pause before a soft laugh, then he’s tracing a finger under your chin so you’ll look at him.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yes. Please. I really do.”

He exhales shakily, drawing shapes on your back while he thinks for a moment.

“Alright, flip over for me.”

Once you’ve done as he’s told, Yuuta’s planting a quick kiss on your nose before he’s crawling down your body, dotting kisses here and there as he works himself lower, a big hand caressing down your side so warmly at the same time.

When he reaches your panties he lays a gentle kiss on them, too, before he’s unclipping your garter belt so he’s free to slide them off. He pulls your stockings back up with care when they start to roll down with your disposed underwear, tenderly kneading over your legs like you’re his most cherished possession.

Then he’s ghosting lips over your bare pussy, leaving you no time to feel shy.

Not that you’d need to anyways—it’s nothing Yuuta hasn’t seen a million times before, your body has been bare for Yuuta’s eyes since he can remember. Yuuta’s seen you bathe and change and masturbate and put in a tampon. Hell, he put in your first tampon for you—you’d been running late to a birthday party and hyperventilating at the time.

It’s disgusting and twisted how natural the sight of your freshly-orgasmed pussy is for him. He doesn’t even need to savor it before he digs in—starting by licking up the shiny release he didn’t clean with his fingers, swallowing every drop till his mouth is saturated with your tarte-sweet taste.

Then your puffy little clit has his attention, and he’s tongueing it softly while returning his fingers to their place inside you, massaging the sweet spot that gets your tummy twitching. You’re panting by that point, thighs locked around his head, fisting his soft hair when he captures your clit in his mouth, syncing up the rhythm of his fingers to the rhythm of his sucking.

There’s only a choked “nii-san” in warning before you’re gushing around him, pouring onto his fingers while he keeps sucking and fingering you throughout. You have to pull his hair to get him off you once you come down, twitching and overstimulated like he always leaves you—but still anticipating more. Because you’ve sort of got a routine when this happens, and it always ends with you cumming on his cock while he turns you into the sweetest cream pie that ever was. It’s always your favorite part.

So it’s wordless when he rises to his knees while he’s still between yours, pulling down his boxers with one hand and rubbing soothing circles over your hip with the other while your senses drift back to earth.

He starts pushing into you before you expect it today, though—startling you so you cry out, grabbing his arm for support as he leans over you. He stills at your reaction, cooing a sympathetic little aww at your scrunched face, asking “‘s it a stretch baby?”

You nod, leaning into the hand he rubs over your cheek, holding your breath till he bottoms out.

Usually Yuuta’s thoughtful enough not to forget his more than generous size, but on some days he’s too needy to uphold his standard meticulous care.

Tonight must be needy with the way he moans when you’ve taken the full length of him, sucking air through his teeth while he wills himself not to absolutely pound you straight away. Soft things like satin and flowers and little sisters need to be treated with extra care, Yuuta surely knows it. He needs self restraint—even though your face seems to have the words ruin me written across it in his eyes. The writing is usually a reminder to do the opposite, but any and all self restraint comes much tougher when your pussy’s around him.

That he manages to hold off any movement til your eyes are open feels like a miracle. But when he sees your giant glassy pupils staring up at him, their expression pleading, he swears he almost empties his load inside you right then and there.

“G-god. You’re so cute.” He manages to say.

You don’t need to respond, you just drift your stare to his glossy lips, letting your own form a little pout.

“Kiss?” He always guesses what you need.

You nod, lifting your head to meet his lips passionately, tasting yourself mixed with his saliva.

Then he’s moving, starting with a careful roll of his hips before grinding into you at a steady rhythm. And your bodies practically melt together—you’re moaning into each other's mouths, holding each other close, frantically rolling hips against hips. Connected by both blood and spit.

It’s sweet like that for longer than expected before yuuta can’t stand the gentleness anymore, his thrusts growing harsher till your whole body is shoved up and down with each movement.

When he starts fucking you like this, like an animal who’s following his instincts, you can never last long. And soon you’re arching your spine as you’re thrusted over the edge again. This time somehow lasts longer than the others as Yuuta holds a steady rhythm, precisely hitting the same toe-curling spot inside of you over and over leaving you twitching and panting, unable to speak or hear or focus your blurred vision when you try to peek open your eyes. It is intense and mind-numbing the way Yuuta’s cock makes you cum, you don’t even notice Yuuta’s warning signs that he’s following quickly behind you—groaning all pretty for deaf ears. You feel it though when he finally fills you, rope after rope of sticky seed flooding your womb till you swear your belly feels fuller.

Once breaths are caught and heart-rates finally return to normal afterwards, Yuuta finally starts to rise up off of you. You stop him of course, with a cried Nii-san and a wrap of your legs around him.

He only sighs, knowing you’ll want to stay like this a while longer, rolling over so you can keep connected just with you on top. He lets you drift off to sleep finally then, vowing silently to wake you in a bit and clean you both off. He’s glad you’re finally getting some rest though—figures this is a battle he can let you win for the night—you’ve got an early morning, after all.

thanks for reading, rbs and feedback appreciated <3

#fic rec #cw stepcest #jjk reblog #yuuta reblog #aight what the flip

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nanabrainrot · 4 months

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Unsupervised Tablet Time

Description: Kyle is on his tablet late at night. He somehow managed to get onto a porn sight, and found himself with a hard on. But you’d help him right? The only problem was? You were asleep

warnings: smut, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, a bit of a crazed Kyle at one point, he makes the reader touch him while she’s sleeping (or so he thinks, she’s not actually asleep), Kyle crying, tooth rotting fluff. (I didn’t mean to make this as fluffy as I did, but it’s Kyle and I couldn’t resist)

word count: 3k (woooo, I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever written)

Realistically it wasn’t his fault that he stumbled across porn while watching videos on his tablet. All it took was one click, one link and bam.

He was sucked in. Completely enthralled. Eyes wide as he watched the two people move on screen, their noises muffled in his headphones as he watched, completely entranced. The way their bodies move against each other as the man rutted against the woman, thrusting into her at a harsh, unrelenting pace. Kyle had been so mesmerized by the video that he barely noticed the way his cock twitched in his pants, begging for some kind of relief.

He did finally realize though when he shifted from his criss cross applesauce position to relax more against the bed and his thigh brushed against his erection. He paused, blinking in confused curiosity as he carefully poked at his groin with his pointer finger. The sounds that were playing right into Kyle’s ears weren’t at all helping the situation. From the sound of slapping skin to the moans the girl was letting off. It sparked something inside him.

He pawed at his clothed cock with a clumsy hand, a quiet, surprised groan coming from his lips. That felt good. But not enough. He needed more. More more more.

Still though, it was late at night and he knew everyone was asleep, and even though he didn’t quite understand, he figured this isn't something you did around everyone. Even in his hazed state, he knew that he didn’t want to get caught. Maybe he should just go back to watching videos.

He turned his attention back to the tablet, frowning as he saw the video had ended, but soon enough a bunch more popped up in recommendation and he clicked on one of them, excitedly watching, eyes flicking across the screen as the video loaded.

It started out with a woman lying across a bed, stark naked. She began touching herself and Kyle mewled, reaching out and touching the screen in a desperate attempt to touch the woman. He groaned in frustration at his failed attempt, eyebrows furrowed at the growing pressure in his pants that was becoming more and more uncomfortable.

His eyes were laser focused on the girl's cunt, his tongue lolling from his mouth again. He longed to bury his face between her thighs. It was like an instinct. Or a memory…He wasn’t sure.

Soon enough there was a bit more action on the screen, a man crawling on top of her as they began to passionately make out. Kyle copied the movements of their lips, looking as if he was kissing air, which looked quite odd if anywhere were to walk in the room. He was so curious about anything and everything. Maybe a little too much at times.

It got heated fast, and Kyle’s brain struggled to keep up. The camera panned to a different angle, a closer one. The man stroked his cock a few times before lining it up with the woman’s entrance, carefully pushing it into her. It was as if Kyle was the one shoving his cock into someone’s warm heat by the way he reacted. He let out a groan, hand flying to his pants as he squeezed his dick, possibly too hard. He didn’t like his hands. Didn’t like his touch. He was too clumsy. He needed something else and he was growing frustrated.

His tablet and headphones were soon abandoned on his bed as he stood up, very determined now to get some relief. He found a lot of comfort in you, so surely you would make him feel better, right? He had no clue that he could just take care of his ‘little’ issue himself. You did everything for him, so obviously you could do this too.

So he made his way to your room, creeping as carefully as his clumsily coordinated body could. He closed the door behind him, having some sense to be quiet and not to wake the others. When he found you asleep he frowned. He didn’t want to wake you, but at the same time he needed your help so bad.

He took a seat on the edge of your bed, mouth drawn down into a pout as he thought long and hard about what he should do. He finally couldn’t stand it any longer and crawled up the bed beside you, being as quiet as possible, eyes widening every time the bed creaked. He reached under the covers for your hand and gently pulled it out, holding it in his own for a second. You were so warm. So much warmer than Kyle’s undead body, and your touch held so much comfort.

He carefully brought your hand down to the bulge in his pants, letting it rest there as he bucked up against it. A breathy whine slipped from his chapped lips as he blinked a few times, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as he ground his hips up against your hand.

Once he saw that you weren’t stirring, he got a bit bolder, trying to find a way to maneuver your hand into his pants, and much to his dismay, was unable to do so. He continued to grind against your hand, cock heavy and throbbing under the confines of his sweats and boxers. He scooted away from you a bit to try and slip his pants off clumsily, clunky hands grabbing at the waistband with a heavy grunt.

Little did Kyle know you’d woken quite a bit ago. Really the moment he sat on your bed, you just pretended to be asleep to see what he would do. To say you were surprised would be an understatement. Your sweet, innocent Kyle grinding desperately against your hand in the middle of the night? While he thought you were asleep?

Your face was covered in a bright pink blush, but luckily the darkness of the room hid it from view. Not that he’d really suspect anything if he saw it anyways. The poor boy was a bit clueless.

You felt him shifting beside you, trying to shimmy out of his pants and you wanted to turn and face him, to press a kiss to his cold, but sweet undead lips. You weren’t sure what had gotten into him. He’d never acted like this before.

You nearly shouted in surprise as his broad arms wrapped around your frame, snuggling up beside your back, his now naked lower half resting against the curve of your ass. He grumbled something that you couldn’t understand before he began to carefully grind against you.

Your breathing picked up and you knew you only had two choices.

Stay here and let him get off like this

Help him

And how could you not help him? Still, you decided to wait a few more moments, because his desperate actions amused you just a bit.

It was when he buried his face against the crook of your neck and began to nip at the skin, your breath hitched.

“Mmmm-“ he groaned against your ear, unaware that the proximity and his volume could wake you, because he also wasn’t aware that you already were awake. Just sitting and biding your time.

He rutted a few more times against your ass before biting down particularly hard against your shoulder, surely leaving marks.

You couldn’t help but wince, shooting up into a sitting position which startled Kyle. His eyes were wide as he looked at you, slowly blinking as he tried his best to gauge your reaction. He seemed to tense, waiting for some sort of reprimanding, or even a slap. But neither came, and he relaxed a bit, his worried expression morphing into that same look of need and desperation.

You gave him a gentle smile, carefully reaching out to cup his cheek. “Oh baby, what happened to get you so worked up?” You asked, although you knew he probably couldn’t find a way to respond. He huffed, eyebrows furrowing once more as his lips turned into a pout. He so badly wanted to talk to you. To really be able to explain, but he just couldn’t, and it drove him to near insanity.

He leaned his cheek into your touch, much like a puppy rubbing up against a person for affection. You let your other hand reach up to brush through his beautiful blond curls, a quiet content sigh falling from his slightly parted lips.

He grew fidgety once more, moving around to try and get comfortable and that’s when you realized that his little issue wasn’t just going to resolve itself. He needed to find a way to take care of it, and by the looks of things, it seemed like you needed to help him.

“Kyle, I’m going to help you, okay?” You said slowly and clearly, making sure he understood you before you continued.

He perked up instantly, eyes wide and full of anticipation for what was to come. More of you. More of your touch. More more more. Help. You were going to help him.

He followed your lead as you laid him back on the bed, his limbs like deadweight as you tried to position him in the way you wanted. He tried his best to help you, always having to concentrate extra hard to move certain parts of his body. It had to do with his mind and body connection, something that had been severely damaged when he was brought back.

Once you had successfully positioned him on the bed, arms laid out at his sides and his thighs open wide, you smiled, looking down at him. He was only wearing his dark blue t-shirt, bottom half naked and quivering a bit. His body was in constant motion, never really being able to be fully still. It was always either his hands, or his legs… maybe his face, but it was guaranteed that some part of him was always in motion.

“Okay, I’m going to help you now, if you want me to stop… if you aren’t liking it, I’ll stop. You just have to use your words, okay?” He nodded with a smile, dimples appearing on his cheeks and you so badly just wanted to pinch them.

Settling in between his thighs, your hands dragged across his legs, getting him used to your touch and not just jumping right into jerking him off, not wanting to overwhelm him and potentially get a bad reaction out of him. You always had to take things slow with Kyle.

With an almost feather light touch, you carefully traced the head of his cock with your pointer finger, humming softly as you glanced up at him to see what his expression would be, truly having no idea how he’d react.

Instantly his legs were trying to buck up into the touch, wanting more. Needing more. God he needed so much more of you. All of you.

With a thick, garbled groan, he looked at you with pleading eyes, urging you to go on. To do more.

And you did just that. You gingerly wrapped your hand around his hard, leaking cock, being careful not to squeeze too much and startle him. You wanted to slowly introduce him to the pleasure and be able to build it up if he did want more.

Kyle, for the first time since he’d come back to life, felt hot. His body felt like it was on fire. A big pit of hot coals settled deep in his stomach, threatening to bubble up. A sheen of sticky sweat covered his forehead as his breathing got heavier, his scarred chest rising and falling with every stroke of your hand over his most intimate part.

“Mnrrrrggh- g-gooood.” He drawled, voice sounding more rough than usual as he panted, hands clenching and unclenching the bedsheets at his sides, not knowing what to do with his body.

“Just relax, Kyle. Let go, I’m right here.” You whispered in reassurance, wanting him to feel comfortable the whole time.

This was such an intimate action and you didn’t want to do anything to cause Kyle to react in a possibly dangerous way.

Kyle let out a quiet, desperate whine, so overwhelmed by the feeling, but also at the same time, wanting more. Like he couldn’t get enough.

Sensing this, you settled yourself more in between his legs, letting your tongue slip out and carefully swipe across his cockhead, causing him to nearly cry out at the feeling, eyes squeezing shut as he tried to make sense of the new, wonderful sensation.

You couldn’t help but smirk, carefully swiping your tongue across the tip a few more times before sinking down, lips wrapped tightly around his length as you bobbed your head a bit, stroking the rest that didn’t fit in your mouth.

Kyle was writhing on the bed, and to the naked eye, it would almost appear that he was in pain. You did worry for a second, but the way he opened his eyes and looked down at you told you he was just fine.

You sped up your hand, bobbing your head faster, the slick sound of Kyle’s cock hitting the back of your throat was driving him absolutely crazy and in an instant, you were thrown onto your back, Kyle tearing viciously at your clothes as he grunted, eyes dark and determined.

“Woah! Kyle- be careful- Hey!” You shouted as he ripped off your shirt, hands sweeping across your bare stomach before he pulled off your pajama pants as well.

Everything was happening so fast that you barely had time to think. You tried to sit up, to get Kyle to calm down, but he was so riled up that he couldn’t see reason. He attacked your neck with sloppy kisses and bites, marking you up.

He groaned in frustration as he tried to get your bra off but failed, moving on to your panties instead.

You winced as the harsh thread of fabric was ripped from you, leaving a red mark.

“Kyle! Just- slow down!”

But he wasn’t listening, not really. He had climbed on top of you, trying to position his cock at your entrance before he slid in. A loud, relieved groan leaving his lips as he nearly collapsed onto you.

He was big, and it hurt. Especially since he had given you no time to adjust before he was moving at a steady rhythm, his hips snapping against yours as he pulled you into a sloppy kiss.

Your body slowly began to adjust, letting him sink deeper into you. His thrusts didn’t have any particular rhythm to them. He just went in and out, in and out.

With every thrust of his hips, his pelvis brushed against your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

You had barely noticed the way Kyle had stilled, soft cries coming from his lips as he was buried against your shoulder. You frowned, thinking that obviously something was wrong, so you pushed Kyle up a bit to get a good look at his face. He was crying. Fat teardrops rolled down his pale, scared face as he looked at you.

“Kyle? Kyle hey- woah look at me, what’s wrong?” You cupped his cheek, trying to sit up a bit, but it was hard because Kyle was still on top of you, as well as inside you.

He simply just shook his head at your question, leaning closer to you, nearly suffocating. It was as if he wanted to crawl inside your body. Just wanted to be as close as humanly possible.

“Kyle-“ you urged, still very worried about the boy on top of you. His thrusts had stopped and he was just crying, seemingly trying to form words, but unable to.

“I-I l-loo-“ he sniffled a bit, a tear dripping from his chin onto your bare breast. You shivered, focusing on his words to try and understand him.

“Loooooove y-youuuu” he said, looking up at you proudly as he managed to get the words out.

You almost teared up at his confession. He was crying because he loved you? God, you’d never meet another human being as kind and selfless and just… sweet as him. He was one of a kind.

He whimpered quietly as he began to thrust into you again, and you could tell he was close by the urgency in his thrusts.

“Shhh-“ you whispered, holding him close. Making sure he felt secure and loved.

“I love you too Kyle. So much, such a good boy- fuck-“ you swallowed hard, grasping at Kyle’s back as he fucked into you, his body quivering as he pulled back a bit to look at you, seeming to ask without words if it was okay to cum. To let go.

“I’ve got you, Kyle. Go ahead baby.” You cooed, and Kyle’s face contorted in the most beautiful display of pleasure you’d ever seen, his hips stilling after one particularly hard thrust. You felt as his warm seed filled you, and you cursed silently. He hadn’t worn a condom. It’d be fine though. You hoped. You were on birth control, but you knew that didn’t always work.

You relaxed into the bed, pulling a now exhausted Kyle with you. He pulled out of you shakily and curled up beside you, face buried in the crook of your neck as he closed his eyes.

He was out like a light before you even had the chance to say another word. You got up to get cleaned up before you went to Kyle’s room, seeing the light still on.

And there, on the bed was his tablet, headphones still connected, and a random video pulled up on some porn website. How he had managed to find it astounded you, but you knew only two things.

You loved Kyle more than anyone in this world and would do everything in your power to keep him feeling safe and loved

He needed to be monitored while on his tablet from now on.

#fic rec #fav fics #kyle spencer reblog #STFUUUU STFUUUUU NO ONE MOVE #getting on my soapbox abt ts

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nanabrainrot · 4 months

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In the end of the night, I can feel your warmth. (Kyle Spencer x Reader)

summary: zombies eat brains… not pussies. WRONG. they actually eat them really well. 2.9K words!

warnings: 18+ below the cut!! smut (female receiveing), heavy heavy cunnilingus, s*xual guiding/coaching, praise (male receiving), carnal instincts, unga bunga brain Frankenkyle because it’s a serious problem I have, uhhhhhhh.

tags: @darlingjimmy @petersevans @kaiju-superstar @redwoodghost @kaismanwich @elsamars @thewolveswithin @marylovesevanpeters @80strashbag @iluwmycats @kai-slut @kaissweetlamb @twinkiemaximoff @evanpetersfansblog @spill-the-t @eventually27 @stucktothetwo @kai-andersons-blog @kai-anderson-whore @evansb1tch @viharmonscorner @yesdevineruler @anonymous0316 @enchanting-evan @fuckedbykai @nova-kayne67

ao3 link here! Full link below the cut!! Thank you to @redwoodghost and @kaiju-superstar for yet AGAIN beta-reading and sending me to the clouds.

Keep reading

#kyle spencer reblog #fic rec #fav fics #WHAT THE FUCKKKKKKKKKKKKK #if the internet was wiped of everything but this fic I would be like thank god we have the most important thing ever left

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nanabrainrot · 4 months

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madman!ignacio would eat princesas pussy crazy wild sloppy style he’d be lifting up her hips and crying tears of joy (also he’d be shirtless and in grey sweatpants)

He would cry during the first time he has sex with her lmaoo - he'd be so soft and aggressive and the same time and trying to wipe his crying away but he literally just cannot handle her body and her cause it's too much in a perfect way. But yeah, he'd be sitting up while lifting the lower half of her body to just eat her out while she tries to just manage it. She's crying, but only her mindless tears we all know so well. Nacho would probably accidently bite her from how wild he's going with his mouth cause Princesa's body would be in his palms if Nacho could hold anything tighter.

Then he wakes up in that dirty motel room - just a dream type of scenario lmaooo

#fic rec #bcs reblog #nacho varga reblog #someone make an au where they eiffel tower her like what are we WAITING FOOORRRRRRR

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nanabrainrot · 4 months

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snoopy loves you but not enough to save you

#giggles #um

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nanabrainrot · 4 months

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Hide and Seek

homelander x f!reader 18+ 6.2k, predator/prey, consensual non-consent, dirty talk, cockwarming, outdoor sex, oral sex, there's a lot. check ao3 for full tag list. shout out to @mari-thesimp and @whatevermonkey for the prompts that inspired this fic!

Summary: You ask Homelander to chase you through the woods and thoroughly ravish you, making sure to ignore any protests. He takes the role very seriously. AO3 Link.

Nothing could have prepared you for the reality of this moment. The chase had sounded like such lighthearted fun in theory. A jaunt through the forest with your superpowered boyfriend never far behind, pursuing you through the woods. Upping the ante by agreeing to do it at night seemed, at the time, like simply removing the training wheels. You were wrong. The pound of your heart nearly drowns out the sound of branches and woodland debris snapping under foot as you run blindly through the woods, the moon above barely serving illumination through the dense tree canopy. What you hadn’t realized at the start of all this was that your body wouldn’t know the difference between running for your life for fun, and running for your life for real.

A blast as sharp as a gunshot whips by overhead, bowing the trees with the force of it and startling a scream out of you. The startle causes you to lose your footing, and your momentum is too great to catch yourself. You hurdle forwards, rolling end over end into the mess of brambles, landing flat on your back, gasping for breath. You hear the thud of something landing in the distance. You lay there a moment, brain frantically recalibrating while you stare up at the dense tree cover, trying to catch your breath. That’s when a new sound cuts through the ambient sounds of the forest; someone whistling a cheery little melody. Shortly after that, you begin to hear footsteps. “You made it further than I thought you would,” Homelander calls into the night, his chipper tone replacing that jaunty whistle. “But c’mon. Did you really think I wouldn’t find you?”

You scramble to your feet, bracing against a tree to look wildly around yourself. It’s too dark to even make out his silhouette, but what you see instead turns your insides to ice. Maybe twenty feet away, two glowing red eyes cut through the black of the night, peering around until, abruptly, they lock onto you. The glow of them is just enough to illuminate the way Homelander’s lips pull into a sharp smile. “Got’cha.” Immediately, you take off running. There’s no thought behind it, nothing but the pure animalistic panic to escape. He may be the love of your life, but that was terrifying. The dense treeline breaks into a clearing, and you run for the path of least resistance, even as your muscles scream. A small hill near a babbling stream catches your eye, and though every breath you suck back makes your lungs burn, you push yourself to it, desperate for a place to hide. You skid to a stop just beyond the hill, and then hurl yourself back against it, clamping both hands over your mouth, screwing your eyes shut as you desperately try to quiet yourself.

The agreement was that Homelander would not utilize his x-ray vision. Your only hope was that the sound of the stream might mask the thunder of your heart beating in your chest. In this state of flight, you find it impossible to gauge the passage of time. It might be seconds that pass, it might be minutes. You can’t fathom it. Either way, it isn’t long before you begin to hear heavy booted footsteps crunching through the underbrush. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," Homelander's voice rings out, that wicked smile audible in his tone. "You can come easy, or you can come hard. You're mine either way." You bite into your own hand, tucking yourself further in against the grassy mound. His words hurl you into a dizzying haze of panic and excitement, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting, unsure if you should be running from or towards the honied voice calling you from the shadows. Abruptly, the sound of footsteps stops, and you are left with nothing but the thrum of your heartbeat, and the burble of the stream.Time passes, but still you hear nothing. Tentatively, you peer out around the edge of the mound, into the clearing where you heard him approaching. Seeing nothing, you cautiously rise to your feet and crane to get a better look. Empty. There isn’t a trace of him anywhere. There’s more light in the clearing, lending a touch to your bravery. You don’t need the cue of his eyes to see him here, but the fact he’s disappeared somewhere into the treeline worries you. You glance down to the river. Perhaps your sound-based subterfuge was successful, and he believes you kept moving forward. You take the opportunity to backtrack, and hopefully throw him off your trail. After all, if you get back to the cabin by yourself, you win this little game.

Not wanting to run the risk of him hearing you, you pick up a modest trot back towards the thicket you had emerged from. Reaching out to brace your hand on a passing tree, you scream when a crimson gloved hand closes suddenly around your wrist, another hand catching you around the waist and yanking you backwards, lifting you clean off your feet, and up into the air with him. “Ah, ah, ah,” he tuts. “Not so quick. We haven’t even gotten to enjoy the view together yet,” he says, his words warm huffs in your ear, prickling goosebumps all the way down your spine. You thrash against him with everything you have in you, but you may as well be pounding against pure steel. He’s unyielding. Homelander drops back down onto the ground, and with unbelievable ease, spins you around to pin your back against the tree. Slotting his thigh between your legs, Homelander lifts you with just that. Effortlessly catching both of your wrists in a single hand, he traps them up above your head. He leans forward, his knee braced against the tree. “There’s my girl,” he purrs, lifting a hand to stroke your cheek. Any other day, you would lean into it. The rumble of his voice when he calls you his never fails to make you melt. Right now, however, the two of you are playing a game, and you aren’t going to be the one to ruin it.

You yank your face away from his hand, leaning as far as you can to the side. “Let me go,” you gasp, still thoroughly out of breath. “Mm, nope, no. That… That I don’t think I’ll ever do,” he says, catching your jaw tight between his leather clad fingers, yanking you back to face him, forcing you to meet his eyes, which flare a dim crimson. “You’re all mine, sweetheart.” Homelander kisses you hard, swallowing up the cry you give. You nearly succumb, you almost kiss him back before you remember yourself. Instead, you twist as violently as you can in his grasp, trying anything you can to gain leverage, but nothing works. He has you lifted off your feet, and he’s pressed in too close for you to utilize your legs against him. Meanwhile, he relishes your struggle. You can feel him smiling against your lips, followed by the hot wet press of his tongue. You yield to him only for the opportunity to bite down hard on the appendage. It’s soft beneath your teeth, but it doesn’t give. There’s nothing you could do that would damage him.

Homelander hums a delighted little noise, breaking the kiss. His smile is like that of a wolf, fangs and all. “Now you’re really getting me excited,” he says, punctuating it with a slow grind up between your legs, startling a moan out of you. He lets go of your face in favor of dragging his hand down your body, cupping your breast through your shirt and squeezing, making you keen. “I was gonna be a gentleman and take you back to the cabin, but if you’re gonna behave like a fucking animal–” he says, his rich, molasses sweet voice veering into a rough growl as he rips your shirt wide open, exposing your chest to the night chill, “–then I will gladly fuck you in the dirt like one.” Struggling against him only intensifies the friction of his thigh against your pussy, your clit throbbing against firm muscle behind the confines of your pants. You turn your head away as he kisses down your throat, wringing a gasp out of you when he bites down. You feel him chuckle against your skin, dragging his tongue over the stinging mark, his soft hair tickling along your jaw. “So, what’ll it be? You gonna behave for me?” He asks, drawing back to meet your stare. The question makes you ache, worsens the throb of your clit against his thigh. His perfect blonde locks are set askew now, giving him an untamed look. You feel as wild as he appears. Heart thundering in your chest, you make a play without a second thought, and you spit in his face, spattering the corner of his mouth and his cheek.

For a split second, Homelander looks sincerely shocked, his eyes wide. Slowly, he begins to laugh. The sound of it rolls chills all the way down your spine. You’ve never heard him sound this menacing. His tongue darts out to lick away the mess of it from the corner of his mouth. Pulling one of your hands down from above your head, he uses your palm to wipe it clean, turning his face to nuzzle into your hand, despite how you try to close it from him. When he looks at you, his pupils have reduced the blue of his eyes to a thin ring, making his eyes look almost completely black. His sharp grin has turned him wholly into a predator. “I’m going to enjoy this,” he says, voice pitched low. Faster than you can track, he dips down and hauls you up over his shoulder with ease, that abysmal eagle pauldron digging into your side as he carries you back into the clearing. You ball up your fists and pound on his back with every ounce of strength you have in you, twisting against his grip on your legs, but nothing fazes him. “Scream all you want, sweetheart,” he laughs, giving your ass an indulgent smack. “No one to hear it but me.” Homelander hurls you forward, and though you hit the ground much more gently than you braced for, the motion is no less disorienting. Sprawled on your back, you move to roll over, but a sudden weight on your thigh stops you. You look down and see his muddy red boot pressed firmly there, pinning you. Above, you hear the familiar sound of him unzipping his pants. Once his cock is free, Homelander grips it with a heated sigh, staring down at you through heavily lidded eyes. His lips are parted, and you can see the sharp edges of his canines glinting in the light of the moon. “Look at you, such a fucking mess,” he says, pumping his cock in slow, even slides of his hand. He’s already fully hard, the engorged head of his cock leaking drops of precome with every stroke. You can feel how bad he wants you in the way he watches you, the way his breath hitches. He looks like a wild animal drooling over a fresh cut of meat.

You writhe beneath him, but the weight of his boot alone is more than enough to keep you in place. “Please,” you whine, fighting to keep the desire out of your voice. “Please don’t, please, let me go, I won’t tell anyone–” “Ssshhhhh, shhh,” Homelander hushes, lips quirked in a lopsided smile. “I know you won’t.” Reaching out, Homelander bends at the waist and lifts his boot off of you just before he catches a handful of your hair, maneuvering you up onto your knees. The way he handles you is exceedingly gentle. He has no need for rough or forceful movements when his strength can bend steel. You have no choice but to move with him. “I’m gonna give you one chance to redeem yourself, alright?” Holding you steady, Homelander guides you to his cock, arching your head back with his grip in your hair. “Open up, pretty girl,” he croons, the only warning he gives before shoving his cock between your lips, smearing precome along your tongue, all the way to the back of your throat. The salt-sex taste of him is immediately intoxicating, and though you gag at the sudden intrusion, you suck him down without meaning to, reflexively swallowing. “Ffffuck, ah, hah, that’s it. Mmm, such a natural little cockslut. Taste good, sweetheart?” He asks, positively destroying you. He’s never called you anything like that before, but the ease with which he says it now makes it sound like the hundredth time. You want to hear it again. You make a sound that’s close to a moan, pushing your hands against his thighs, digging your nails into the padding of his suit. Letting go of his cock, he cups the side of your face, and picks up a steady rhythm with his hips, fucking your mouth shallowly.

With his thumb, Homelander caresses your lips, following the line of them where they stretch wide around his dick. He’s entranced by you, watching with endless intensity. Your jaw is slack, drool coating his cock as he fucks your mouth. “Ohhh, fuck. Fuck, look at you. Wanted it all along, didn’t you? I can smell your pussy, baby. You’re so fucking wet for me.” He fucks deeper, and you stifle the gag this time. Your eyes well with tears that collect on your lashes, weighing them down against your cheeks. The weight of his cock on your tongue feels so good, you lose yourself briefly, forgetting that you’re supposed to be putting up a fight. This time, you let yourself gag when he pushes in deep, and you try to pull off of him, fighting back against the hand he’d flattened at the back of your skull. “No, no, sshh, not yet. Almost there,” he says, tightening his grip in your hair, his voice fraying as he begins to come apart. He starts thrusting faster, adjusting his hands to hold either side of your head, using you so thoroughly that you feel like a fucking toy in his hands. Your breaths become shallower, short little gasps between the frenzied snaps of his hips. “Aaalmost there. That’s it, take it, taking it so fuckin’ good. Knew you could, baby.” Between the praise and lack of air, you’re starting to feel lightheaded. You’re not fighting against him anymore, but instead gripping his thighs for dear life, eyes rolling back into your skull. You feel like you’re floating in and out of your physical body, barely tethered to reality.

Homelander comes with a choked-off noise, shoving you all the way down onto his cock. You don’t even taste the come, you just feel the heavy pulses of his cock against your tongue, the heat of it sliding down your throat, warming you from the inside out. Just when you’re starting to feel like you might pass out, Homelander pulls out of your mouth, holding you as you cough wetly. You gulp down breath after breath, gradually coming down from your delirium. Homelander strokes your hair through it, breathing heavily through his own aftershocks. “Now there’s a redemption arc,” he says through a breathy little chuckle. He lets go of your hair so that he can tuck himself loosely back into his pants. Before you can get any ideas, Homelander knocks you backwards, visibly pleased by the easy way you sprawl out on your back, still dazed. Crouching down, he gets a good grip on the hips of your pants, and with a swift outward pull on either side, rips them clean apart, along with your underwear, leaving just the scraps of them hanging off your thighs, fully exposing your pelvis. Inhaling deeply, Homelander’s smile is downright predatory. “My turn,” he says, hooking your legs up over his shoulders, leaving just your upper back touching the ground below. He takes hold of your hips, and lifts you up to his mouth. Closing his eyes, he moans like a man mad with hunger as he drags his tongue through the slick mess of your cunt, closing his lips around your clit.

You arch your back with a cry, pushing into the wet heat of his mouth. He’s ruthless in the way he feasts on you, plunging his tongue into you and lapping up every drop he can coax out. When he’s gotten all he can, he goes back up to your clit and sucks, swirling his tongue over it, reducing you to a whimpering mess. He laps at your clit until there’s more sweet slick for him to drink up from your pussy, fucking you with his tongue, demanding more. Homelander gets his wish when you come, an explosion of pleasure that radiates through your entire body. Your thighs lock up on either side of his head, squeezing him tight, but all he cares about is the rush of your release that spills down his chin, wetting him so thoroughly the excess drips onto the ground below. He swallows every drop that he can. He groans with it, licking eagerly between the quivering lips of your cunt. Your orgasms have always driven him insane, the flood of endorphins making you taste fucking exquisite. Suddenly the ground falls out beneath you as Homelander stands up, leaving you hanging in his grasp as he devours you, your moans of pleasure rapidly dissolving into broken sobs, overwhelmed with sensation. “S-stop,” you gasp, grabbing hold of his wrists. “Too much, please, it’s too much.”

Homelander’s only response is a rough little shake of his head, nuzzling into your pussy, lapping up the aftermath of your orgasm and rapidly hurdling you hot and heavy towards another one, your hips convulsing against him entirely of their own accord. “Please, oh god, please stop!” You cry, voice raw. You hang helplessly in his grip, squirming with nowhere to go. He’s got you dangling precariously on the razor's edge between pleasure and pain, the sensations so intense that they almost burn. “S-stop! It’s too much! Please!” You have a safe word, you and he both know you could save yourself if you wanted to, but the reality is that you don’t. It feels good to beg for what you know he will not give you. You’re starting to feel dizzy, hanging upside down, gasping for breath as he continues to gorge himself on you. He drags his tongue up and down, drawing deft figure eights before sucking your clit, pressing his tongue firmly to it. You come again, and this time the experience is so overwhelming, you scream.

Falling limp, all you can muster are weak, oversensitized noises. Your body spasms involuntarily while Homelander licks you through the aftermath of your orgasm, milking every last drop of it. He finishes with a refreshed, wet exhale, audibly licking his lips of the mess while you dangle in his grasp. Gingerly, he lowers you back down onto the grassy forest floor, slipping out from between your legs to loom over you. Your brain is so addled, it takes you ages to realize that he’s kissing you, licking your own flavor into your mouth. You whimper when you feel his ungloved fingers brush your overstimulated cunt, the contact making you jolt. He clicks his tongue softly. “Look what you did,” he murmurs between kisses, plunging his fingers into you, despite your weak protest. You’re so wet, the slide of them is a frictionless ache. You whine into the press of his lips. “You went and got me hard again,” he sighs, as if you’ve inconvenienced him. “Now I have to fuck your pretty pussy.”

Homelander’s fingers pump in and out of you, the sound of it obscene and wet. Your breath hitches, and you try to protest, but his gloved hand falls over your lips, silencing you.

“Shhh, shh. Save it, sweetheart. Save it for my cock.” His fingers sink in deep, and your lashes flutter, eyes nearly rolling back into your skull. Already, you’re aching to feel him deeper. All you can do is whimper into the warm leather of his glove, squirming under the weight of his hold while his fingers work you open. While it’s a reprieve for your thoroughly used clit, the expert way he crooks his fingers inside you already has you fighting the climb of another orgasm. So much so that when he slips his fingers out, you whine, the sound of it bordering on a sob. Nothing happens for the next couple of seconds. Uncertain, you open your eyes, and find Homelander staring down at you. There is a slight tenseness to his expression, an expectation you can see in his gaze as you meet it. His hand is still over your mouth, but his other hand has settled on your thigh, thumb stroking your bare skin in minute movements. You can see the question written in his eyes clear as day; You okay?

The way he looks at you settles something warm deep in your core, chasing the night chill and leaving only the heat between your bodies. You break character for just a second, and give him a slight nod. In an instant, Homelander flips like a switch back into a stranger, the change subtle and yet glaringly obvious to you. You gasp when he pulls his hand from your mouth to flip you over, the smell of fresh grass pungent as he pushes your head down, lifting your ass up into the air. “That’s better,” he purrs, effortlessly slipping back into character. The cold, dangerous edge to his tone makes your stomach clench in a giddy blend of anxiety and excitement. With one hand braced on the back of your head, Homelander grips his cock in the other, and guides it to the soaked, velvety lips of your pussy. He drags the head of his cock up and down, smearing it through the wet mix of his saliva and your own slick. You jerk involuntarily when he rubs it against your sensitive clit, whimpering.

You feel overworked, but Homelander has made it clear he’s only just getting started. Slowly but surely, he opens you up on the thick head of his cock, moaning a low cuss under his breath. His powers protect him from pain, but not pleasure, and you’re not the only one affected by the aftermath of your release. Regardless, he moves his bare hand to your hip, and holds you steady as he sinks the rest of the way into you in one slow, agonizingly good slide, finally reaching that aching itch deep inside you. “Nnnngh, please,” you moan, screwing your eyes tightly shut. “Please what?” Homelander prompts, giving a deep little thrust that startles another pitchy sound out of you. “Go on, beg for it. I want to hear you beg for my cock like a good little slut,” he says, the low snarl of his voice–his words–paired with the heat and weight of him inside you making you delirious. He moves his hand from your hip to your clit, the wet slide of his fingers making you cry out, writhing against him. He rocks you back on his cock, fucking right into your cervix. “No sense denying it now. So goddamn wet for me. You love this, don’t you? Getting fucked like a cheap whore. Beg. Beg me to fuck you stupid.”

Whatever few strands you had left tethering you snap. The degradation, the truth in his words, the transcendent agony of pleasure taken too far all tip you over the edge of sanity and reason. Shame and arousal burn you in equal measure. “Please fuck me stupid,” you obediently beg, tears gathering in your eyes not from pain, but sheer overwhelm. You barely get the words out. Homelander starts to fuck you in earnest, groaning at your plea, at the complete crumble of your resolve. “Use me.” The noise Homelander makes at that is animalistic, caught somewhere between a groan and a growl. He shifts his hand from your head to your shoulder and grips tight, gloved fingers biting into the meat of you as he yanks you back onto his cock, picking up a relentless rhythm that punches the air right out of your lungs with every snap of his hips. All the while, his fingers grind against your clit with every thrust, surging you up towards the release previously abandoned.

“Fuck,” Homelander rasps, practically trembling with restraint. Despite the brutal way he’s fucking you, you know it’s nothing compared to what he could do. You can feel pressure building rapidly between your thighs, each thrust like the strike of a match inside you, igniting more and more heat. You can’t move, pinned between his hand on your shoulder and the crack of his hips against your ass. All you can do is endure him as your orgasm builds, whatever scarce breaths you can manage to inhale leave you as sharp little whimpers. “Don’t fight it. Feels good, I know it does. You’re taking me so good. Fucking made for me. C’mon, do it. Let me feel you come on my cock.” Your orgasm hits like an earthquake, a sudden eruption that renders you silent, your lips falling open on a noiseless scream. Your body locks up like a vice as wave after wave of mind blowing pleasure rolls through you. You hear Homelander give a choked off noise as he fucks you through it, your cunt seizing around him so tightly it catches him off guard. He doesn’t stop, instead moving faster, reducing you to a keening mess, limp in the grass. He uses you until on a final thrust, you feel him still, followed by a rush of heat so intense it nearly feels a burn inside you. Your whole body shudders, and you exhale a broken little noise, dizzy from the magnitude of it all.

Everything around you feels bleary, your vision fading in and out. For a moment, you feel as though you might float away from your body entirely, your consciousness barely holding on, but the feeling of Homelander pressed against your back, sinking down against you, grounds you. You whisper the safeword you’ve been diligently holding onto, and just like that, the game is over. Homelander pushes a hand through your hair, kissing a trail from your neck to your ear, gently adjusting your head on the ground. He kisses your cheek, the corner of your mouth, bent over you, the wet weight of his cock still buried deep and warm inside you. He’s panting softly in your ear between kisses, the breaths catching every so often, still reeling from his own release.

Tenderly, he lifts off of you, and withdraws from inside you, hissing a soft breath as he does. The mess he left inside you trails hot, wet streaks down your thighs. You wince at the loss of him, nearly collapse without his hands on you, but he holds you steady with a hand on your hip while he adjusts himself.

You’re practically dead weight as he rolls you over, hovering over you with a hand in the grass, next to your head. You smile up at him, lazy and still dazed. He returns it, the corners of his eyes crinkling generously as he strokes your cheek with his bare knuckles, analyzing your expression. “Was I good?” He asks, the tone of his voice leagues and miles away from what it had been. He sounds tentative now, curious, a little hopeful. “Good?” You echo, borderline offended he would use such a meager word to explain the most intense sexual experience of your life. “That was… you were… amazing,” you tell him breathlessly, mustering the strength to push a hand into his mussed hair, your lids feeling heavy as you blink. “I can’t feel my legs, and I think you bruised my cervix,” you admit, to which he looks sheepish, but you continue, “And I’ve never felt more incredible in my life.”

Homelander visibly preens at that, his eyes narrowing, lips curving into a small smile. He leans in to nuzzle at your neck, inhaling deeply. You offer a few more strokes through his hair, but the muscles in your arm protest enough that you drape it over his neck instead, sighing. He takes that as his cue to scoop you up into his arms, your limbs dangling like cooked noodles. He floats to his feet, settling back down on the ground with you nestled snug against his chest. “C’mon,” he says quietly, kissing your forehead. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” ~~~~~~ Back at the cabin, Homelander is quick to start a hot bath running. The only garment of yours to survive was your bra, but even then, you and it are thoroughly grass strained. Homelander helps you sink into the oversized jacuzzi bath, chuckling at the exaggerated moan you give as the heat washes over you. It feels like heaven on your aching legs. The water sloshes to and fro as Homelander joins you, sliding up to you right away. Baths have always been both of your preferred methods of aftercare, where you can recover from his strength and he can luxuriate in this intimate form of pampering. Automatically, Homelander pulls you in to straddle his lap, the water making you both feel weightless. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, and you go about wetting his hair, massaging his scalp. He moans when you begin to work in the shampoo next, dragging your nails all the way down to the back of his neck. He’s much leaner without the suit. You sweep your hands down his shoulders, following the trail of wiry muscle to his back. His body relaxes gradually beneath your touch, breathy little sighs escaping him. He makes you feel like you’re playing an instrument, and you know precisely where to touch to draw out the right note. Neither of you speak much during the bath. Your limbs are heavy, muscles tired, and the narrow space between your bodies feels too quiet and intimate for words.

You take your time conditioning his hair, and he wrings soft moans from you when he massages wash into your shoulders, mindful of how they ache. He��s deft with his hands, impeccably aware of his strength. It thrills you a little every time you remember how different he was in the woods, how wild and brutal he had felt. Once you’re both clean and satisfied, the bed calls your name as hypnotically as any siren. You’re the first to slip under the covers, immediately relieved to be off of your feet, your legs still shaky. Homelander follows shortly after. He’s always been clingy, but tonight especially, he’s practically glued to you. When he slides into bed, he doesn’t cuddle in next to you, but instead lays himself over you, nestling between your legs so that he can rest his head on your chest. You smile down at him. “How do you feel?”

“Good,” he rumbles, moving his hand to rest near his face, just over the beat of your heart.

Silence hangs heavily in the air. Sensing there’s more to it, you press, “Do you want to talk about tonight?”

Homelander is quiet for a moment longer. “You were scared.”

“Being chased was scary, yes,” you admit, combing your fingers through his hair. “That was the intention, though.”

“Were you scared of me?”

You pause. There’s something vulnerable in his voice—anxiety, perhaps—that he’s halfheartedly trying to mask, but you see through it. You give yourself time, wanting to answer the question with the thought it deserves, but Homelander doesn’t take the silence well. He lifts his head to scrutinize your expression, brows pinched. “You were scared of me.”

“You scared me, but I wasn’t afraid of you,” you correct him, settling your hand over top of his. “I liked it. In the same way I like movies that make me scream, or roller coasters. You scared me, and I loved it,” you say, bringing up both hands to cup his face, emphasizing your words by pulling him into a kiss. He moves easily, pushing into the kiss, needy for the assurance you offer. Stroking his cheeks with your thumbs, you ask him, “Did you like it?”

Homelander licks his lips, sliding his arm under you as he settles back in against your chest. “Yeah. It was… fun. Raw. I didn’t know you could act like that. Might have to get you a role in Vought’s next production,” he says, giving your collarbone a playful little nuzzle. “No thanks, I’d rather be waterboarded,” you reply with a laugh, earning a low chuckle from him. You stroke him from the crown of his head all the way down to the base of his neck, and then back up. “I’m glad you had fun. I know that I was asking a lot of you with it.” He’s quiet for a moment, head resting heavy on your chest. He rubs his cheek against your skin. “I really liked it. But if it goes too far, and you see something in me that you don’t like, and I see you scared of me, even when we’re not playing, it…” the sentence trails off. You feel his grip around you tighten reflexively, and you can only imagine what awful scenario he’s playing in his mind. “John,” you call gently, though your tone is firm, catching his attention immediately. He tips his head back to look up at you. “I promise you, there is nothing you would do to me that could change the way I feel about you. I love you. I worship you, John. That’s what love means to me. Reverence. You didn’t want to hurt me tonight, did you?”

“No,” he answers quickly, enraptured by you, by your words. “But I did.” “Only as much as I asked you to,” you soothe, stroking along the side of his face. “You would have stopped if I said the word, right?” Homelander nods, closing his eyes as he leans into your touch, pressing a kiss to your palm. “You checked in on me, too. If anything, all tonight did was show me how much I don’t need to be afraid of you.”

Looking at you, there is a magnitude of emotion in Homelander’s eyes that is difficult to put into words. You realize immediately just how badly he needed to hear every word you’ve said. He has always thrived on your words, on your loving deeds, but tonight they scrape him particularly raw. There are times when you think the depths of his need for you scares even him. Homelander kisses a path from your collarbone to the space between your breasts, slow, deeply affectionate. Where you most easily show your worship in words, he shows his in touch. He strokes a hand down your side, to your outer thigh, squeezing it against him, like he simply cannot be close enough. “Come here,” you murmur, nudging him with your leg. “Let me warm you.” Homelander glances up at that, his lips twitching in a small, pleased smile. “Yeah?” “Yeah,” you confirm, encouraging him with another little nudge. Of all the tricks you’ve introduced him to, this has been his favorite by far. Licking his lips eagerly, Homelander shifts, lifting himself to grab the lube from the bedside table, dispensing enough to slick his cock up. He uses what remains on his fingers in you, sliding his slick fingers into you with ease, earning a sharp little inhale from you before you relax into it. Once you’re properly wetted, he carefully slides his cock into you, less than half hard, but that isn’t the intent. Though you’re still tender, once he settles against you, the fervid weight of him inside feels divine. Having him inside always feels as though you are kindling a live flame within you.

“Mm, that’s it. Feel good?” You ask, kissing his forehead. Homelander nods, slotted against you as perfectly as a matching jigsaw piece. He turns his head to kiss your breast, transitioning quickly from that to closing his mouth over your nipple, sucking gently. You flex your grip in his hair, sighing in pleasure. “I still need to rest, you know. We can’t all have super stamina,” you remind him with an amused little smile.

“So rest,” he says dismissively, gaze flickering up to meet yours. He kisses your breast reverently before placing his head back down, staring up at you with such utter contentment, you feel the warmth of it to your core. “I can be patient.” In other words, he’ll wait as long as he can before the temptation grows too great. The thought of waking to him taking advantage of you like that broils a little fire of your own in your gut, and you laugh softly, nodding. “Okay. Wake me in a few hours. Be creative,” you whisper, leaning in to kiss him. Homelander’s lips curl deviously. “I love you.” “I love you, too.” Eventually, your exhaustion wins over the giddiness of what’s to come. Homelander is a comforting weight against you, the heat of him chasing any and all chill from you, and you drift into one of the deepest sleeps you’ve ever known.

#fic rec #homelander reblog

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