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#homelander x male reader
gatorbites-imagines · 6 months
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Kinktober day 17
John Gillman/Homelander + cock warming
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Hes so cute in this gif, like omg...
Readers a silverfox, aka an older hot man, cuz you can’t tell me Homelander wouldn’t climb older men who gave him positive attention.
Kinktober 2023 masterlist
The noise of typing on a keyboard could be heard throughout your office as you worked, the sleeves of your button-up rolled up to your elbows, your greying hair ruffled from its usually gelled hairstyle. You had been working nonstop for days at this point, only taking breaks for short naps or to refill your coffee cup when Ashley or other assistants weren’t around to do it for you.
You had worked for Vought for a long time, as long as Stan Edgar, though you hadn’t felt the need to be the CEO as you weren’t cruel enough for that role. So, you easily gave it up for Stan and took a lower, but still very high rank in the company. Your role involved many things, but one of them happened to be dealing with Homelander, or John as you called him behind doors, as he had always been drawn to you from day one.
You had met him for the first time when he started as Homelander, as you weren’t too involved with the whole creation of supes, as you liked having plausible deniability. Of course, you knew it happened and how it worked, you weren’t on even foot with Stan Edgar for so long and not know, but really, he seemed to gain more joy from it than you, so you let him keep it.
But back to the present, you leaned back into your seat with a sigh, running a hand over your face and massaging at the ugly wrinkle that always appeared on your face as you worked. A small moan could be heard between your legs as you changed your position, the person between them shuffling forwards to take you fully between his lips once again.
Looking down, your eyes met the sight of your sweet boy, Homelander, his eyelashes resting beautifully against his cheekbones as he held you between his lips. As you ran your hand through his tussled hair, he seemed to sigh and become even more relaxed, his tongue limp against the bottom side of your soft length.
He was so well behaved, always aching for your attention and praise. When Homelander first started out he had been softer and more anxious, but as time passed he had become quite egotistical and bratty, but you were always able to keep him on a tight leash when it was just the two of you, as he seemed to ache so deeply for your attention.
His eyes fluttered open as you brushed your thumb over his cheek, his pupils blown so wide they almost swallowed up the blue in his eyes. He looked almost drunk as he let his head fall to rest against your thigh, his mouth still securely wrapped around you. As if testing his luck, John gave a soft almost hesitant suck as he looked up at you, his glazed expression sharpening enough to see if you had any negative reaction to his behaviour.
Normally you’d have scolded him for acting against your orders, as you had told him to just warm you as you worked, but you were technically taking a break from your reports, and he had behaved so well. “It’s okay baby” you mumbled, caressing the side of his head before you ran it through his hair in an almost affectionate move.
You could visibly see him shudder as you finally allowed him to move, his head slowly bopping up and down as John finally allowed himself to start to suck and swallow around you, rubbing his tongue against the underside of your cock as he pulled his head up, swirling it around the tip, before swallowing it all the way down again.
“Such a good boy” you praise in your tired voice, watching as he seemed to twitch and shiver at your praise and affection, your touch only seeming to fuel him further as he moved his head faster, his hands coming up to grip your thighs to give him more leverage to swallow you down to the root. His throat fluttered around you, and you could see tears well up in his eyes as he gave a soft gag, though it didn’t seem to be slowing him down.
Even as the most powerful member of the Seven, John still found his gag reflex acting up every now and then as he sloppily moved through the motions, tiny huffs and whines leaving him like a pup begging for love and attention.
You felt your head drop back against the seat as you could feel your limit approaching, you weren’t as young as you used to be, and you knew it would be your only orgasm of the night. Years ago, you might have been able to get hard multiple times during one night, but age seemed to do that to a person, not that John seemed to mind at all, in reality he only seemed to become more drawn to you the older you got. When you had started commenting about colouring your hair because of the grey appearing in it, he had almost burst into tears, so you kept it.
John let out a louder sloppier moan as you spilled against the back of his throat and against his hungry tongue, letting him savour the taste for as long as he wanted. After a while you had to softly push his head back though, patting his shoulder to get him up and into your lap, as your back had started complaining about lifting him and carrying him around the past few years.
John let out a satisfied sigh as he cuddled against you, pressing his face into your neck and nuzzling against you like an affectionate cat, almost purring as you rubbed his back and muttered half formed words of praise and affection. You would let him float in your arms for a while you decided as you rolled your chair back towards your desk, at least until your legs lost circulation from his weight on top of you. In the meantime you could start working on tomorrows paperwork.
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yanderestarangel · 4 months
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♡‧₊˚✧˖°💌 𝐝𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐲 | 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐭𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
TW: ftm reader, v!sex, oral (f!re), dirty talk, afab anatomy, reader is a femboy, wearing skirts, sex without a condom, praise, rough sex, dom!homelander, dark concept, degradation, dom!homelander, male x male, porn plot, smut, use of aphrodisiac, creampie.
A/N : finally a request from homelander! yey! For some reason Tumblr doesn't let me answer my asks anymore, but hey- I took a screenshot of all the ones I'm going to make >< so sorry if your order isn't notified!
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⸺ It was a miracle that you caught the attention of the most feared man in all of America, the most powerful man in the entire world, Homelander.
You were just a normal kid who worked at Vougth's main headquarters, taking care of the schedules of some secondary supers; however, you soon felt the pair of oceanic blue eyes burn you - the infamous hero staring at you from afar, practically fucking you with just one look, he drank in all your curves - from the stockings that squeezed your thighs, to the short skirt that you wore, in addition to the breasts shyly hidden through the blouse you wore.
You had awakened something in him, something he didn't know how to put into words, he was always a more submissive man in bed but you made all his sexual fantasies create another type of direction, he wanted to fuck you like a beast - like a hungry animal, beautifully destroy every piece of your delicate body and make you his boy.
So, you were lovingly notified with a mild threat from the company board, either you had a meeting with the hero of the seven, or you lost your job.
And you didn't hesitate to choose the first option. The meeting was at a luxurious restaurant in the city, closed to just the two of you, the hero seemed more polished, more... Different? An improved version of the man you saw fighting with everything and everyone in the buildings every day - the smell of fresh cologne coming off him also made you try to close your thighs, feeling your core get wet every time you saw his muscles flex under the fabric tight blue uniform, you had never paid due attention to him, so it surprised you to see him so... Attractive, as if a new light was placed in your eyes and mind, as if with each touch you wanted more and more - perhaps the aphrodisiac he put in his perfume would have helped, but you would never know it.
He was a gentleman, treating you like a prince, like his prince - carrying you in his strong arms to his apartment, you were adorable, and you were as he expected you to be: shy and wet. Your sweet scent of excitement and desire filled every atom around him, so it wasn't difficult for Homelander to convince you to let him into your house... It was too easy, even, and as soon as the door closed, a predatory smile covered his features. of the blonde man, as he towered over you like a mountain.
"-Are you nervous baby? there's no need.. I'm going to make you feel good pretty boy... lift that skirt for me... now." You couldn't help but feel weak in the knees as you did as he told you without protest, exposing your wet, needy flesh for him and for him. Homelander smiled, his piercing blue eyes fixed on your exposed, glistening pussy. He moved closer, his presence looming over you, radiating power and dominance- His hand reached out, his fingers brushing the lace of your panties.
"-Good boys are rewarded... Now, let's see how wet you really are." he whispered hoarsely, his voice sending shivers down your spine. His touch was electrifying as he slowly pushed your panties to the side, exposing your throbbing clit and your slick folds to his hungry gaze. "-Such a receptive little slut for me" His fingers dug into your flesh with more force than they should have, leaving bruises that would later turn into sickly beautiful property marks - his tongue tracing slow circles around your entrance before dipping deep inside you. The sensation was unlike anything you've ever experienced before—his warm, wet tongue probing and teasing your sensitive folds, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your entire body.
You arched your back involuntarily against the cool concrete wall, moaning softly as he devoured every inch of your tight cunt. The lust was overwhelming, the sensations intensified by the knowledge that this sadistic hero could have anything and anyone he wanted, but he chose you - Moans fell freely from your lips as he continued to pleasure you, his tongue and lips working in perfect harmony to take your to the limit. Each stroke, each movement of his tongue, sent waves of ecstasy through your body, elevating your arousal to new heights.
You couldn't help but grip his hair, encouraging him, your breathing becoming ragged as you neared the peak of pleasure. Homelander sensed your imminent release and intensified his efforts, his tongue working faster, his fingers slipping inside you to increase the stimulation.
"-You like that don't you? Having me worship you?" he said with a roguish smile, eating you from the outside with even more intensity - however, when you were about to cum, the blonde took his tongue out of your pussy, making you feel a practically painful burning, begging on your knees like a puppy for him to fuck you soon, like the good boy you were.
Homelander's dominance over you intensified as he pinned you face down on the bed, his strong grip holding your head gently against the mattress - the pressure against your face felt a thrill of submission through your body, fueling your desire and excitement, you could feel his hard cock pressing against your ass, teasingly grazing your entrance with each movement. "-You like it rough, don't you, pretty boy..." he growled, his voice dripping with unmistakable horny.
"-You want me to fuck you until you can't walk straight, don't you?" Homelander's thrusts grew more intense and you could feel the pain building inside you - the pain sent waves of ecstasy through your body.
Your screams and moans filled the room, music to Homelander's sadistic desires. He leaned close to your ear, his voice dripping with a dark intensity. "-Do you think it hurts now, doll boy? Wait until I'm done with you," he whispered, his words fueling the fire of submission in your veins.
"-I'll take care of you, every inch of you, after I'm satisfied." Homelander's thrusts became more erratic, his breathing irregular, his balls hit your clit messily, making you breathless, with each slap on your ass or even the rough and sloppy way he squeezed your soft breasts, using the fabric of your skirt to further leverage each wild rhythm of your hips.
"-Fuck boy-! You take me so good... Good boy- good boy, just cum for me with that slutty pussy." When Homelander's thrusts reached a feverish level, he squeezed your head once again, his fingers digging into your hair. He growled deeply, a primal sound of pleasure as he reached his climax -- with one final, powerful thrust, he released himself inside you, filling you with his cum. You felt the heat of his release, mixing with your own wetness, as he continued to reach his orgasm. A feeling of satisfaction washed over him, and he slowly withdrew from you, his grip on his head finally loosening -- Homelander kissed your body tenderly, his lips tracing your skin, marking you as his.
"-You were a good slut, baby prince", he murmured, his voice filled with a possessiveness, giving you chaste kisses on the back and loving pats on your red ass from his own slaps. "-And I always take care of what's mine... Good boy..."
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©YANDERESTARANGEL 2023
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dominantslasherking · 6 months
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Slashers x Male S/o Masterlist 2
Here is my PART 2 Master list.
Hello, my devilishly handsome readers.
MASTERLIST PT 1.
Btw, Dominant Male reader FOR all of them.
Warning emoji⚠️⚠️ With the one that has smut.
Patrick Bateman
Patrick Bateman x Male reader Patrick had always mistaken his jealousy for you to be out of wanting what you want, to be like you, when it was in fact that Patrick was jealous because he couldn't be with you. Patrick wants to show you how much he wants you, by getting on his knees like a good boy. (BTW you're his boss)
MORE COMING SOON Billy and Stu
Billy and Stu x Male reader You always manage to catch Billy and Stu's eyes on you, whether it be in the college classroom, or when you're purchase horror stuff, they always seem to follow you. Even in your house you still feel their gazes --- Billy and Stu x Male reader. [Requested] Bill and Stu trying to feel the reader up after he killed someone. And the reader just wants to clean up his mess and go. And since his misbehaving brats don't get the hint, he pins them to the wall, hands around their throats, to get them to shut up
---
Billy and Stu x Male reader [Requested]Billy and stu where male reader ignores them because they have been more caught up in there killing then reader so he gets annoyed and decides to ignore them MORE COMING SOON Hannibal Lecter Hannibal Lecter x Male reader Hannibal drooling over how fit and muscled one of his patients (reader) is and just fantasizing about what he’d let reader do to him during one of their sessions.
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen
Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Male reader Your basically a mysterious male figure that happens to be around the bene gesserit, (whom not even they could control you) Feyd is obsessed with you, a deep longing inside his soul, his body.
--- Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Male reader One of Feyd's Harpies disrespects you. Feyd is ruthlessly possessive and obsessed with you. --- Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Male reader ⚠️⚠️ Rough, possessive, soul-snatching, soul-sucking, sex. Also, Feyd is a powerbottom.
-- Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Male reader A scene of Feyd showcasing his possessive and overly jealous love for you.
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vampdes · 2 months
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Please, I'm begging you do more Homelander x top male reader. I loved your other fic with him. Maybe reader is a supe who's stronger than Homelander and left. Homelander was sent to kill reader due to reader having information but instead gets fucked. Thank you and have a nice day.
DES says . . . im not doing anything right now, so why not? hope you enjoy xx (even though this is very late).
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SUM. — homelander is sick, erratic, manic. why? he has his fame, his money, his powers – what more could he need? an antidote, obviously, what else?
CON. warning — smoking weed / rolling a blunt (once), dry humping, dry orgasm, overstim, mentions of: growling, passing out (figuratively), meeting heaven (figuratively), & yan-like actions. p in a. bareback. begging. impregnation (breeding ?) kink. collar & leash. subby (leaning on), needy, & whiny homelander.
NOTES. — very rushed. semi-detailed smut. not a very good ending.
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you flipped through the televison’s provided channels with an unlit blunt protruding from your lips, itching to light it in order to feel the undeniable zest and haze it always seemed to provide you with. the calming and doughy-like sensation melted your brain, it allowed you to escape from the realization that you were indeed wanted by national police and superheros (all at the same time, mind you) just because you even dared to speak of retiring. therefore, you came up with an idea: just escape! to hawaii or somewhere — you landed in Australia, though, so hawaii was entirely off course but aye, you were gone and free and almost high.
what’s not to love?
you finally found a reliable sitcom that’d allow you to not think too hard or pay attention too much. so you sat back and slouched, drowned into the comfiness of the couch’s plush cushions, and lit your blunt. the wafting smoking engulfed itself deep within your lungs and etched itself into the cushions of your couch. before you could even care about your couch’s wellbeing or could even take a second exhilarating blow, the smell of metal being burnt and resulting smoke that wafted from under your penthouse door to your living made your eye brows furrow together with confusion. before continuing your trail on being high, you dipped the blunt into an ashtray and pushed it into the table, and sat up, watching the door with a sense that something was array in the air.
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“fix me, oh fuck — y’gotta, fuck, fuck, fuck—,” john’s words fell into loud, squeaky squabbles into the silk sheets of your bed. his large frame sat atop of your hips, straddling you whilst he made a steady pace of teasing his concealed cock with the friction your ruffled jeans provided him with. you wanted to calm him down, tell him it’s okay, baby, you know i’ll fix you, but he chose that ignorant and arrogant company or what the two of you could have had. and that’s something you’ll never forget, but damn, why pass up on fucking the most famous hero in the world because he’s begging to have you? nobody in their right mind would, that’s for sure.
“you gonna let me treat you right?” you asked, gripping on his hips with words that haven’t been spoken before but explained and demonstrated through the many encounters that occurred in the empty janitor closets in the hallways of his company. and john. . he can’t help but grind himself a little harder and nod just a little faster. he wants you in ways he could never explain. he needs you with the biblical and primal history behind it. he begs to serve you as though he’s nothing but a measly worshipper and you’re a god within the highest of heavens. and you allow him to do so.
“please.” john responds, and you know he means it.
before long, he has a pastel-pink color around his neck with the leash wrapped around your balled fist, feeling like a submissive fucking bitch under your control, and damn, he feels good. his hands are tied behind his back with his nails clawing at the air between you and him in order to feel the pleasure that courses through every atom in his very being. for the first time in a long time, john allows himself to be willingly and properly used by someone he adores.
when you mention the fact that you’ve run out of the very last condom, he says: “get me pregnant.” and good lord above, you can’t help but comply with his demands. he felt fucking heavenly too, he felt so, so fucking good, and the noises that were coming from him? good fucking god, you’d capture those noises in a jar and listen to them every night before you sleep if you could.
in between the lingering touches and chaste kisses and animalistic thrusts and moans and being treated like a fucking free-use prostitute, the tears that streamed down his eyes and the whines that came from him and the need eminiting from him to have the immediate skin-to-skin contact with you even though you were literally shoving your cum into the deepest part of his guts is what captivated you entirely. the way he honestly showed his greed proudly with it circling around town and right back to you made your heart swell. fuck, this was sick (sick enough to make you force yet another cry out his hoarse throat).
“oh fuck, fuck, fuck — gotta make you mine, gotta get pregnant and make sure you stay with me, oh fuck, gotta – gonna cum, fuck, gonnafuckin’cum–,” the process that coincided with long strings of his cum colliding with his pretty pink breasts made the loudest, girliest, guttural squeal mixed with a whine mixed with the neediest moan escape from his throat with him crying out your name. your sylabells. and for fucks sake, he knew exactly how to get you started again to buck your cum-covered tip into his abused prostate once more.
when he cried out your name like you were the Archangel himself, you knew that today would turn into tonight which would turn into yet another post-sex morning with a bitchy, clingy, neck-biting john that always needed a piece of you with him or he swore he might (would and undeniably will) go crazy. and to be honest, if you just savor this maniac for just a little bit longer, maybe the earth would look a bit more brighter to you. maybe the air would be clearer, the sun would shine harder, the birds would harmonize better — the morning is the best time of your day.
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Valentine's Day headcanons for Homelander:
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[Hold briefly because I'm on the bus right now]
Would hate Valentine's Day if he doesn't have a partner and love it if he does have a partner.
Corny on this day with his partner.
Would do the stereotypical Valentine's Day thing you see on TV because he thinks that's how he can show love.
I would plan everything and not spare any money if something is very expensive.
You have a lot of sex that day.
Would buy you a large red flower bouquet or one similar to the one he actually wanted to give to Stormfront.
I would spend the whole day with you.
Treat and adore you especially like his queen/king/etc on this day.
Just loves you as you are
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dreamedaboutboys · 1 year
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To the edge
Any Male!Sub!Character x Dom!Male!Reader (character/person not defined)
Summary: After a whole month, you've decided to be merciful… just not too merciful.
A/N: Just a little something i wrote when i was bored. I didn't specified the character, so feel free to imagine whoever you want in this situation.
Warnings: Sex, edging, overtimulation.
He knew it wouldn't be easy.
He knew it wouldn't be exactly what you said.
Yet here he is, sitting in a chair with his arms tied behind his back, his eyes blindfolded, and his body shivering.
He knew he would be in this situation, and that's exactly why he accepted when you asked him if he wanted you to finally have mercy on him after the past month in denial.
All he could think about was how your mouth would feel around him, and God... It feels amazing.
He wishes he could feel this forever, well, until you spent the past... minutes? hours? He doesn't even know anymore sucking him.
Every single time he almost reaches his climax, you stop and start all over again.
And he knows better than to beg for his release, knowing damn well that It will only make you torture him for longer.
So he takes it like the man he is, holding tight to his hand when you take him all the way to the base and caress his balls.
His voice is tired from moaning, and his eyes are puffy from crying, but he can't stop himself from screaming your name again. And then there are his tears as you leave his member alone again.
But as he eagerly waits for you to do it again, something surprises him, his blindfold is gone, and you're gently touchinh his hair.
He looks at you, not knowing what to say, not knowing if he should beg or if he should thank you. But you don't give him a chance to choose as you get back into position.
"Be a good boy for me, will you?" You say in a deep tone as you take him in your mouth again.
He is thankful you decided to blindfold him before because he doesn't think he would be able to hold back this long with the sight of your gorgeous face with puffy red lips taking his angry red cockhead.
And he definitely wound't, because as soon as your lips touched him, he was gone.
His climax consumes him, making him almost lose consciousness. Luckily he is tied to the chair; otherwise, he would be lying on the floor right now.
As he slowly returns to reality, he takes a look at you.
You're still covered in his cum, your lips still red.
He notices you sticking your tongue out again and gently lapping at his cockhead, cleaning it of the rest of his release.
He shivers with the overstimulation, but not as much as when you take his cockhead in your mouth again.
He tries to say something, but he can't form a phrase.
You let his sore member go as you move next to his face. "I'm not done with you yet" you said, kissing his lips and going down on him again.
And again.
And again.
And again.
Until he doesn't have anything else to give you.
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iikkeee · 2 years
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The boys characters reaction when you bring a stray cat home
Includes- Homelander, Black Noir, Hughie Campbell, Billy Butcher
Warnings: none, all fluff <3
A/n: I was just randomly thinking about this and had to write it, if anyone wants to request more “the boys” content then feel free to message me!!!
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Homelander
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When you found a little ginger cat on the street crying for help you couldn’t help but grab it, you quickly brought it home and got all the necessary items to take care of him. You were placing the kitty on its bed when you heard the whoosh of John’s cape. “Honey, I’m home” he yells from the living room “I’m up here!” You yell from the bedroom, he raises his brow in confusion but heads up the stairs. When he walks into the room he stops moving “John…?” You say concerned as to what he’s thinking. “Huh” is all he could manage to say, he was surprised to say the least. A cat in your house? it was weird, he’s never felt the need to have a pet and he definitely doesn’t want to take care of it. “I just found him and I had to take him home, please let me keep him” you plead with him grabbing his hand in between both of yours, he stays quiet for a moment longer before just sighing “fine” you smiled and gave him a big kiss before going to hug the kitten and bring him towards John “this is your daddy” you said to the kitty while handing it over to him. John immediately tenses up as he holds the small cat in his arms before looking down at kittens small face and giving it a small smile, maybe this wouldn’t be so bad..? He always did want a family and this cat was the closest thing he was going to get a son. You smiled as you looked at the scene in front of you “looks like you like him John” you teased “hmm…maybe” he replied giving you a small smirk as he cuddled the kitten closer.After a while John got used to the cat and would often be seen playing with or trying to teach him weird tricks so he would in John’s words “be a great superhero like his father” whatever that means…. _________________________________________________
Black noir
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You whined slightly as you opened a cardboard box to reveal a small black cat, you quickly grabbed it and took it inside. Black noir was sitting at the table and noticed as you hurriedly came inside, he quickly got up to see if you were okay. “Noir look” You say as you hold the kitten to your chest, he looks down and cocks his head to the side. He gently takes the cat from your arms and sits down on the couch “do you want to keep it?” You asked as you sat down next to him, watching him as he sweetly pets it and plays with it. He moved his head to look at you and you smiled knowing his answer. He’s always wanted a pet but didn’t know if he could take care of it properly and this was the perfect opportunity to finally find out. Noir found the kitten so adorable and wants to do everything to protect it, he always tucks the kitty in on your shared bed and feeds him the best treats, the cat loves him and you can often find them together in weird places, you laughed as you saw how the cat would climb on Noir and would plop itself on Noirs shoulder or head. You and Noir would cuddle on the couch as you watched the kitty go crazy over some rat chasing videos. Noir would let the kitten chase him around the house and even bite him if they were both playing, they were extremely close and would play some tricks on you for fun. Overall Noir loved that cat with every fiber of his being. _________________________________________________
Hughie Campbell
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When you found a box of kittens you quickly ran inside and placed them down on the table, Frenchie and Kimiko saw your panicked face and ran over “awww!” Frenchie exclaimed while Kimiko had a big smile on her face “What’s going on over here?” Hughie asked as he walked over to your little group, you all moved away from the box making space for him. “Omg” he exclaimed before hurriedly picking up one from inside the box. Hughie always loved animals so once he saw that box he immediately wanted to give them all the love in the world “aren’t they so cute??” You ask as you cuddle one of the kittens close to you “Where did you find them?” He asks as he holds one of them high in the air and gives it kisses “Just outside” you answer as you give one a kiss “must be an early Christmas present” Frenchie exclaims before winking and grabbing two of the kittens for him and Kimiko to hold on the couch. “Oh really this early?” You tease “we need to keep them” Hughie exclaims “all four?” You ask getting close to him “yes, all four” He states before giving you a quick peck “that’s if butcher allows you to keep them” Frenchie says while sighing “who cares what he thinks?” You say as you cuddle the two cats you and hughie have. After a while Butcher got used to the cats and let you keep them, Hughie gives them all cute names that all relate to each other. You can often see the kitty’s cuddled up on his sleeping body after a mission or errand, you always smile at the scene and tuck them all in making sure to give them all goodnight kisses even Hughie. He would treat all the cats equally with how much time he plays with them or the treats that he gives them. He loves to put the cats next to you and watch how you interact with them. _________________________________________________
Billy Butcher
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When you found a kitten outside that clung onto you for dear life you had to take her in, you smiled as you held her in your coat and showed her small little figure to Marvin and Frenchie. As soon as you heard the door click you hide her in your jacket, afraid of what Billy would say. He quickly walked inside ignoring you guys on the couch and talking about how he had a fight with some supe before stopping in his track and noticing the guys crowded around you. “Now, now, what the fuck are you guys crowding around for?” He asked before moving towards you and looking down at your coat showing him a glimpse of the kittens fur “would you look at that?” He teased as he crouched down so he was in direct eye contact with the small feline. Billy was never really a cat person especially since he had terror, he didn’t really understand how to take care of one in the first place so when you asked if you could keep the cat he was shocked nonetheless. He never gave you a clear answer and would mumble or grumble whenever you asked, it took him a long time to get used to the kitten and you would often see him and the cat just chilling on the couch together. But whenever you would look away or pretend to not be looking, Butcher petted the cat and gave her ears scratches “you’re such a good girl” he whispered thinking you wouldn’t hear, you would chuckle and he would quickly back away acting like nothing happened “I think you like her billy…” you teased as you cuddled up next to him. “Pft…never” he said sarcastically, making you roll your eyes. He would dress her up in different outfits and would buy her the best treats while still claiming he didn’t like the cat. You would tease him for every time you saw him sharing cute moments with the kitty. Overall he’s like a dad he said they never wanted an animal and end up loving it the most out of anyone. _________________________________________________
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marrziy · 19 days
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The Boys x Male Reader
.•✪ Resumo: os personagens de "The Boys" usufruindo do seu peculiar e prazeroso superpoder. ⋆͙̈
Leitor!bottom
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Você se considera um super-inútil, mas não odeia completamente estar em tal posição. De qualquer forma, você não se vê salvando o mundo e, mesmo que ser uma pessoa comum fosse o ideal para você, ser o melhor parceiro sexual de qualquer um lhe garante muito mais do que você conseguiria em um emprego comum numa vida comum.
O seu corpo não chega a ser indestrutível, mas é resistente. Afinal, é preciso ser forte para aguentar tanto pau e porra. Você não sabe como funciona, apenas aceitou que a sua bunda vicia e que quem prova vai à loucura. O seu buraco é requisitado; quem te fode sempre acaba tendo o melhor orgasmo da vida e pede bis, isto é, quando não morre de prazer.
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🔞 Dark | sexo rude | protuberância na barriga
HOMELANDER empurra os quadris com tanta força que faz você, alguém que desde virgem sabe trepar como ninguém, gritar. O seu corpo está curvado contra a mesa de reunião dos sete há pouco mais de uma hora. Você perdeu a conta de quantas vezes Homelander gozou dentro nos últimos minutos, apenas sabe que não foram poucas.
O seu estômago cheio e a quantidade gritante de sêmen escorrendo da sua entrada confirmam isso.
A porra acumulada no seu buraquinho esguicha para os lados a cada investida bruta. O choque de peles espalha a bagunça gosmenta no chão e na mesa, para que um pobre funcionário se encarregue de limpar mais tarde.
O pau inchado do loiro orquestra uma cantiga molhada enquanto se afoga na própria porra ao desaparecer no seu corredor esponjoso. O sêmen quente, plantado com pressão em seu interior, às vezes borbulha, vazando para fora com bolhas pouco duradouras na composição espessa.
Você sente os efeitos do composto V estalando no ato curvar o pescoço e ver o seu ventre contendo o pau de Homelander, que só não atravessou seu estômago graças à sua resistente pele maleável. A protuberância em sua barriga some e aparece de acordo com os movimentos desesperados do super entre suas pernas.
Você pode até afirmar que está fora de si por estar babando e gemendo, mas não se compara ao homem choroso te comendo. Ele treme, tão desleixado que erra o seu buraco vez ou outra. Os olhos azuis dele estão marejados e os lábios vermelhos de tanto morder. O herói evita te tocar com as mãos, com medo de acabar quebrando o brinquedinho favorito dele.
Há 30 minutos, você tentou pará-lo, já cansado, dolorido e também por ter mais o que fazer, mas foi ignorado. Ao insistir, inutilmente tentando empurrá-lo pelo peito, você quase teve suas mãos desunidas dos pulsos.
Agora você se mantém pianinho, contraindo para ouvi-lo gritar e apressar aquele que talvez fosse o último orgasmo dele te inundando.
— Porra! E-eu te amo! – ele geme alto, e você sabe que não é sincero, Homelander sempre reforça isso. Ele fica assim quando fode, manhoso e estranho, sem a imponência usual. — Queria que você tivesse um útero pra eu encher de menininhos! Todos seriam fortes igual ao pai!
Manhoso e estranho pra porra.
Ele urra rouco e prolongado, forçando-se dentro do seu anelzinho dormente até não deixar espaço vazio dentro de você, arruinando suas entranhas com mais uma carga abundante do líquido branco. O membro grosso incha no seu interior e o formato exato do pau de Homelander marca o seu abdômen, cada vez mais robusto devido às investidas duras.
Ele cai exausto em cima de você, sentindo a própria liberação lambuzar o pau pela incontável vez seguida. À medida que geme no seu ouvido, ele volta a meter preguiçosamente com o pau meia-bomba - que permanece grande ainda assim - e, mesmo três minutos depois, consegue o feito de gozar mais uma vez, contraindo as bolas e liberando jatos grossos no seu reto judiado.
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🔞 Degradação | Leitor dom | Hughie brat/sub
HUGHIE é uma vagabunda, uma cadelinha que adora latir entre quatro paredes. Você, mesmo sendo um dos sinônimos de vadia, sente-se puro o suficiente para chamá-lo de putinha.
Ele duvida dos seus poderes, assim como você também duvida às vezes, afinal, não dá para comer o próprio rabo. A única evidência que você tem são as expressões exageradas - semelhantes às feições bizarras de uma garota num hentai - dos homens que te fodem quase que loucamente nos seus dias úteis e inúteis.
Mas aquilo não é dúvida, é vontade, do tipo que pulsa na calça.
É notável que Hughie quer que você prove para ele a veracidade dos boatos que ele escuta nos corredores da empresa sobre você e o seu cuzinho de mel - apelido que te rouba um ano de vida sempre que você escuta.
No momento em que ele abre as pernas, afastando as coxas e exibindo o volume marcado no terno, passa a ser visível que o que ele realmente quer é um gostinho do que muitos já provaram.
Depois de tanto ouvir as experiências dos colegas de trabalho, o pobre homem se sentiu tão tentado que doeu todos os dias até hoje, quando ele finalmente criou coragem, entrou no seu escritório e se sentou na poltrona em frente à sua mesa, sorrindo ladino com a provocação na ponta da língua.
Deu certo.
Você pousa as mãos nos joelhos dele, agachado no carpete com o rosto próximo à virilha coberta do homem mais novo. Com a língua para fora, você desliza o músculo pela saliência de Hughie, sentindo o pau dele contrair através da lã azul. Mas você é interrompido por duas mãos nas laterais do seu rosto, apertando suas bochechas e erguendo seu olhar. — Pelo que eu saiba, o seu buraquinho gostoso não é a boca… – ele murmura, sorrindo jocoso.
Você ri soprado, convicto de que irá derrubá-lo e maltratar. — Quanta pressa… tá tão desesperado que não aguenta uma preliminarzinha? – você se apoia nas coxas dele para levantar e, propositalmente, afunda as unhas na carne censurada. — Ok, vou te dar o que você quer, só não vem com chororô pra cima de mim se a sua piroquinha não der conta do recado, tá? – sentado nas coxas de Hughie, você empina a bunda, arrastando o quadril em cima dele até estar pressionando os glúteos na área necessitada do rapaz, que grunhe em resposta.
Você desabotoa o zíper da calça social dele e ele faz o mesmo com a sua. Hughie fica com a peça estagnada no meio das coxas, enquanto você se levanta para se livrar totalmente da sua antes de retornar para o colo do mais alto. Você resmunga ao sentir o zíper dele roçando na sua pele, mas logo esquece.
Ambos se encontram de cueca e com a camisa branca parcialmente desabotoada, friccionando seus membros enquanto se beijam furiosamente e trocam apertões sedentos em regiões aleatórias no corpo um do outro.
Hughie suspira durante o beijo. Com dificuldade, ele consegue falar contra seus lábios. — Em quan-quantas rolas você teve que sentar pra… pra conseguir um ca-cargo tão bom em… em tão pouco tempo? – Hughie impulsiona o quadril para cima, simulando estocadas, já dominado pela vontade de afogar o ganso.
— Em algumas, e todas eram maiores e mais grossas que a sua. – o homem abaixo de você estremece, principalmente por ter os mamilos provocados pelos seus dedos astutos, mas as suas palavras também têm peso nisso.
Hughie gosta desse tipo de coisa.
— Puta merda… – um risinho acompanha suas palavras. Você se diverte testemunhando a agitação patética dele. — Cê nem disfarça. – você torce os biquinhos inchados de Hughie entre os dedos, se deleitando com as contrações que arranca dele. — Se orgulha? Tem culhão pra assumir que é uma putinha patética que fica de pau duro quando pisam em você? – sua mão desce, apertando o pau de Hughie na cueca, enquanto a outra reveza entre apalpar o peitoral e o abdômen do mais novo. — Depois eu que sou o pervertid…
Você congela ao ouvir o som de algo rasgando.
Sua face neutra captura o sorriso maroto de Hughie. É a primeira vez que você deseja tanto fazer alguém chorar.
Ele tem as mãos firmes na sua bunda, separando as bandas com a ponta de três dedos ameaçando entrar no seu anel rugoso, agora exposto após Hughie rasgar sua cueca.
— Era a minha favorita… – você finge denguice, forçando um lábio trêmulo enquanto sorrateiramente desfaz o nó da gravata dele.
Lerdo. Você constata.
Ele está perdido nas próprias sensações, tão focado em esfregar a ereção no seu corpo e em dedar seu buraco que nem percebe as suas intenções perversas.
— Não é como se você não pudesse comprar outra. – responde Hughie. No momento em que você rodeia a seda no pescoço dele, ele sorri ainda mais largo do que antes.
Ele anseia que você dite quando ele pode ou não respirar.
Isso te deixa fraco, faz com que você se imagine empalado no pau dele, que prova não ser pouca coisa ao saltar glorioso da cueca, batendo no abdômen e ultrapassando a altura do umbigo, contrariando suas provocações anteriores.
Você bate na cabecinha inchada com a ponta dos dedos, arrancando um resmungo de Hughie. — Até que é grandinho. – você finge não estar surpreso. — Mas, não é questão de eu poder comprar outra, seu estúpido. – com uma mão na extremidade esquerda da gravata e a outra na direita, você estica ambos os lados. A pressão no pescoço de Hughie limita a chegada do ar nos pulmões, mas, em compensação, faz o sangue pulsar quente e forte nas veias do pau. — Eu comprei porque gostei, porra.
Hughie abre mais as pernas, criando um vão entre as coxas que quase te leva ao chão. Ele agarra a base do pau, batendo-o contra seu estômago, esfregando ele em seu corpo, espalhando pré-porra em você enquanto te encara pidão, implorando com um olhar brilhoso de cachorrinho. — Por favor… bota dentro! Eu não aguento mais!
Você se ajeita no colo dele, encaixando a ponta sensível no seu interior, também cansado de prolongar.
Hughie grita de prazer quando você senta de uma vez, o engolindo por completo com o seu anel de músculos, esmagando as bolas dele com sua bunda. — Shhh! – você aumenta o aperto na garganta dele, sufocando os gemidos escandalosos do homem eufórico.
Ele não consegue controlar os impulsos e guia-se fundo em você, apertando a sua cintura com os dedos trêmulos, empurrando para cima, sentindo e confirmando na prática tudo o que ouviu sobre o seu buraquinho mágico.
É quente, macio e muito, muito apertado.
— Caralho! Você vai entortar o meu pau! – é o que Hughie diz, mas o que você ouve não passa de uma tentativa chorona de fala.
Enquanto você geme de olhos fechados, sentindo seu interior arder, esticado para acomodar o membro necessitado, Hughie esperneia, chora, baba e contrai todo o corpo, encharcando você por dentro com um pau chorão que convulsiona sem parar.
Ele dá três tapinhas nos seus pulsos, pedindo para você afrouxar o aperto, mas como é na sua palma que reside o controle, você resolve brincar, potencializando a pressão da gravata no pescoço dele. Hughie revira os olhos e bota a língua para fora, exatamente como uma peituda num hentai fodido. Você cospe dentro e agarra-lhe a mandíbula, fechando a boca dele e fazendo-o engolir.
Aquilo foi demais para Hughie aguentar.
Você sente o calor e a umidade familiar entupir suas entranhas, te enchendo até a borda. Hughie continua metendo de forma errática e desesperada, gemendo choroso ao liberar cargas grossas no seu interior apertado, lambuzando ainda mais seus corpos com o choque de peles. A porra quente vaza aos montes e Hughie se esforça para mantê-la dentro.
Você sorri maldoso e contrai o reto, estrangulando o pau melado do homem manhoso, sabendo muito bem o que vem a seguir…
Hughie geme sem voz, com a boca aberta, porém muda. Ele volta a foder o seu buraquinho alagado de esperma, à mercê de um segundo orgasmo que escapa do pau superestimulado, mais potente e abundante dessa vez. As bolas dele contraem, batendo nos seus glúteos no ritmo dos quadris, que colidem contra seu corpinho em uma velocidade instintiva.
O último esguicho te enche com o pau grosso fincado, estático nas suas profundezas até o talo. Hughie te abraça com força, tremendo ofegante, tentando se recuperar, desejando descanso, mas o caralho dele simplesmente não amolece. — Você me quebrou…
— Eu te dei o melhor orgasmo da sua vida e você me proporcionou uma foda medíocre. Não me parece justo… eu nem gozei! – você se esfrega para frente e para trás no colo de Hughie, lambuzando as coxas, a cueca e a calça social arriada dele com a porra que escorre do seu anel esticado, ainda com o pau pulsante alojado profundamente em você. — Vai precisar se esforçar bastante pra nivelar as coisas, gatinho… – você sussurra, mordiscando o queixo dele.
Hughie choraminga, levantando da poltrona com você no colo, quase caindo devido ao tremor das pernas. Ele colide seu corpo contra a parede, unindo seus peitos suados e batendo forte no seu corredor esponjoso. — Vou te foder em todos os cantos dessa porra de escritório!
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🔞 Sexo rude | sexo com raiva
BRUTO tem os dedos firmemente rodeados no seu pulso, tão agarrados que machuca. Ele puxa você para um beco, o primeiro lugar disponível que encontra, apesar de não ser nada propício.
— Billy, pera aí! Tá machucando meu braço! – você tenta acompanhá-lo, a princípio, passivo às ações contestáveis.
Mas a sua paciência não é santa; ela evapora ao ser testada.
Sua voz estoura em um grunhido quando Billy aperta seus ombros e empurra sua estrutura menor contra os tijolos da parede próxima. — Mas que buceta! Por que você tem que ser sempre tão pau no cu? Que caralho eu te fiz? – o ardor desconfortável nas costas ocasiona na face contorcida e em frustração genuína.
Na mesma delicadeza de quem acorda durante uma cirurgia e sente a incisão, voam os seus punhos fechados contra o peitoral de Bruto, acertando a musculatura coberta. 
Faz, no máximo, ele sorrir.
Você não sabe o que atiçou a raiva dele, apenas consegue supor, certeiramente, que tem a ver com o grupinho de justiceiros que ele lidera, ao qual ele garante a sua completa ausência e ignorância no âmbito. Billy não te quer naquele meio.
Mas algo o frustra, e ele pretende descontar em você.
Dentro de você.
— Era pra doer? Bora, porra… cê consegue bater mais forte. – o desgraçado sabe que aquele é você dando tudo de si. Ele comprime o espaço entre os corpos, prensando-se contra a sua estrutura vulnerável, provocando ao fazer, com extrema facilidade, o contrário do que você tentou impor com seus socos exaltados. — Filho da puta… amarrotou a minha camisa! – ele curva o pescoço, dramatizando o amasso fútil no tecido floral.
Quando ergue a cabeça e pesca o seu estado acuado, Billy ri fraquinho. Nunca divertido.
A voz, as provocações e a feição risonha estão carregadas de luxúria densa, tão evidente que exala feito aura. A irritação também é notada ao fundo de cada frase, faiscando discretamente na fricção dos caninos, e exposta de maneira didática com a brusquidão com que Bruto te toca, aperta e mantém cativo naquele cantinho esquecido de Nova York.
O sol de verão atua no céu, encenando o terceiro ato daquela sexta-feira à tarde. É possível ver a luz laranja na entrada do beco, que pouco ilumina o espaço entre prédios.
Entretanto, o ambiente taciturno não te faz ceder. — Não… aqui não… – seu embargo dá pistas sobre a libidinagem que você tenta esconder e Billy passa a focar mais nas entrelinhas. — Em lugar nenhum, na verdade! Cê me tratou feito um qualquer, de jeito nenhum que eu vou liberar pra… Ei!
Você fecha as pernas quando Bruto tenta abrir caminho entre elas usando o joelho. Suas bochechas coram e você engole seco, testemunhando a feição destemida do mais velho denotar as pretensões maliciosas por debaixo dos traços.
Billy leva as duas mãos até a parte interna das suas coxas, separando-as e se enfiando entre elas sem cerimônia. — Vagabunda ingênua… tentou mesmo esconder sua ereção de mim? – sussurra rouco no pé do seu ouvido enquanto simula estocadas, esfregando o próprio volume latejante contra o seu. — Para de bancar o puritano, nanico. Você não passa de uma putinha incubada. Esse inchaço na sua calça diz tudo.
O apetite do justiceiro é voraz. Os dedos dele escorregam do seu quadril e pousam na sua bunda, afundando os dígitos na carne traseira, estapeando e apertando com gana.
Você pende o corpo para frente, preferindo a dureza de Bruto à rigidez da parede. — Se for seguir essa sua lógica esquisita, você é mais puto que eu. Seu pau falta explodir de tão inchado!
Apesar do desejo salientado a cada arfada, seu orgulho e teimosia sobressaem às vontades da carne. Você insiste nos débeis empurrões para afastá-lo, com o plus das unhas indo de encontro ao pescoço de Billy, arranhando, arrancando sangue e o fazendo grunhir. 
Ser tão facilmente dominado por Bruto te deixa de perna bamba, mas também faz você querer, mais do que tudo, contrariá-lo.
— Cacete… Deixa de cu doce! – o autocontrole o abandona. As mãos de Billy trilham cegamente o caminho apontado por seu instinto animalesco; uma delas se apronta nos seus pulsos, os prendendo na parede acima da sua cabeça, já a outra ajeita-se na barra do seu short e cueca, puxando para baixo num piscar de olhos.
Nu da cintura a canela, você se sente vulnerável. O peito sobe e desce aflito enquanto você analisa os lados, preocupado com possíveis observadores à esquerda e à direita.
Notando seu incômodo, Bruto se compadece; — Relaxa. Não vai ser gostoso pra você se eu enfiar contigo tenso desse jeito. Ninguém tá vendo, então pode afrouxar o cu. – ele acaricia sua palma, buscando transmitir conforto, mesmo com intenções contrárias para atingir os finalmentes.
— Idiota. – você sorri com os olhos. — Pode me soltar agora? Quero te tocar.
— Não. – Billy segura a parte posterior do seu joelho e a articulação dobra quando ele ergue a sua perna. Ele te tem servido bem ali, em pé naquela caverna urbana. — Tô puto, sem paciência e te conheço muito bem. Só seja um garoto obediente, tá? Não quero te arrebentar demais.
Foi tudo muito rápido. Você perdeu o momento em que Bruto abriu o zíper do jeans e tirou o pau da calça, facilitando para ele te predar.
Ele inclina o quadril para frente, pressionando sua entrada com a cabecinha inchada. Billy provoca o anel muscular esfregando e espalhando sua essência na fenda enrugada, intercalando com impulsos ameaçadores, dando a entender que vai meter, mas recuando em seguida, sem nunca cortar contato.
Percebendo que ele não pretende te preparar, você recua, ou melhor, tenta e falha, pois não há nada além de tijolos nas suas costas. — Cê vai mesmo enfiar no seco? E a elegância, cadê? – sua rigidez pulsa com tamanha aspereza, mas o receio ainda é residente.
— Eu não pretendo ser gentil, foi mal, coisinha. – o sorriso cafajeste nunca deixa a face madura. Bruto mordisca seu queixo e lambe seus lábios antes de depositar um selinho casto. — Mas ó… – ele eleva o corpo sobre o seu e, por consequência, aprofunda um pouco mais a carne dentro de você. — Se tu lamber, prometo atolar meu cacete bem devagarinho na sua bunda. – Billy tem o pescoço próximo ao seu rosto, exibindo os vergões que você deu à pele. Dos arranhões, brota uma pequena quantidade de sangue. — O que cê acha, hein? Até eu prefiro assim, porque se eu meter de uma vez, vou ter que ficar um bom tempo sem te arrombar depois.
— Deve estar ardendo… – seus pulsos são libertos e você usa os ombros do mais velho como apoio.
— Nossa, você não tem ideia do quanto dói! – ele se coloca em um falso estado de lástima, fazendo beicinho e enrugando o queixo.
— Dramático. – você revira os olhos, mas acata as condições, ansiando com a barriga fria pela interação libidinosa.
Seu músculo molhado escapa da boca entreaberta, atraído pelo rubro. A língua quente encontra o ferro, que, na ocasião, se assemelha ao suco conservado na polpa de uma maçã. Você troca o suor por saliva e sente o salgado suave junto ao sangue que quase inexiste, nascido das feridas. É viciante e você quer mais, então puxa Bruto pela nuca e inicia uma escavação com os dentes. O ouro que você encontra é vermelho.
— Filho da puta… Era pra você limpar a porra do sangue, não tirar mais. – ele chia, esmagando sua cintura até te ouvir choramingar. — Bem, se você não cumpriu a sua parte, o que me impede de não cumprir a minha?
Você nega freneticamente com a cabeça, mas vê-se lacrimejando, tremendo e gemendo no instante em que Bruto ignora a resistência do seu buraco despreparado e empurra com força. É tão apertado que um impulso não foi suficiente, apenas metade entrou. Billy enfia os centímetros restantes, sentindo seu estômago acomodar a ponta enquanto o comprimento é esmagado pelo corredor esponjoso.
Você o abraça, gemendo palavras irreconhecíveis e descontando a dor e o prazer com mordias e arranhões em qualquer pedaço de carne à disposição.
Está tão fundo. O pau de Bruto esmaga suas entranhas e rouba sua vitalidade, transformando você na vadia perfeita que geme, controce e contrai.
A pélvis dele bate contra a sua a cada investida violenta, o quadril colidindo até o talo. O som molhado ecoa pelo beco e com certeza os ouvidos nos apartamentos acima ouvem os gemidos e estocadas, talvez até estejam se divertindo com o show.
Se fosse com qualquer outra pessoa, Billy duraria horas, mas é com você e esse seu estranho e maravilhoso poder de extrair tudo daqueles que ousam tirar uma casquinha.
As bolas inchadas, cheias de porra para liberar, batem contra seus glúteos no ritmo frenético e desesperado que Bruto adota. Ele geme manhoso, se provando mais cadela do que você.
Quando ele goza, te enche tanto que o sêmen escorre em cascatas para fora do seu orifício dormente. A transparência espessa é quente e abundante, mas o justiceiro não se contenta com apenas uma liberação. A sensação de atolar seu interior com cargas grossas é incrível demais.
O pau dele não para de contrair; você sente cada latejar, cada pulsar das veias.
Prever o futuro não é uma de suas habilidades, mas naquele momento, é perfeita a imagem que você tem da sua figura cambaleando para fora do beco, mancando e andando esquisito para evitar que a porra acumulada no seu buraco escorra por entre suas pernas trêmulas.
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⣿A parte do Homelander desse tamanho 🤏 comparada com a dos outros. Perdão qualqer erro, terminei e postei direto, mal revisei
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Hiii I want to requests a Homelander x Dom male reader that is a super powerful telepath and telekinetic that vought really wants to recruit because of his abilities (especially for his telepathy since they could use the info he finds from mind reading as blackmail) but instead reader refuses and blackmails vought to leave home alone so they send Homelander to kill him but he gets his ass handed to him by reader and is humiliated and turned on from how easy it was to over power him so they end up fucking
This was a long ask lol srry
Homelander/John Gillman x Supe male reader
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I just finished writing an assignment with a deadline of today, so im gonna reward myself by writing smut.
You had been made a supe the same way any supe had been created, but the moment you developed your telekinesis and telepathy, you had known a lot more than people thought. You had kept your telepathy a secret for many years, not wanting people to know you could read their thoughts just yet, as it allowed you to gather secrets and ways to survive in this fictional world that Vought had set up. When you became 18 you removed the tracking chip from your body using telekinesis and decided to leave. Your parents, the people who had been paid by Vought to make you superhuman, tried to make you stay, but you revealed how you knew all their secrets and how they never truly loved you. And using your knowledge you blackmailed them into leaving you alone for a while.
They of course went to Vought with the new information, fearing what you would do with all the knowledge you had. In the beginning they sent representatives from Vought to try and convince you to work with them, or to threaten you, but they had no idea how powerful you truly were. You had always been extremely smart thanks to your telepathy, so you kept the true extent of your powers a secret. They believed you could control fire, water, and even make yourself fly. But when you tore apart one of their more violent representatives, reducing them to mere atoms, they finally realized just how much of a threat you could be.
For many years they left you alone for the most part, though they would sent a representative every now and then, even sending other supes or a few times sending Black Noir. When you were in your 20s you met Stan Edgar for the first time, and again they must have underestimated your powers, as he didn’t seem as on edge as others had been. After talking with him for a bit you realized they thought you could only see and hear what they were thinking about at the moment, but in reality you could dig deep into their memories and gather all the information you wanted. So, when Edgar tried to subtly threaten you to join Vought, you dumped some of his most well-kept secrets out in the open, making it clear you’d keep the info you knew to yourself as long as they left you alone.
As the years pass Vought leaves you mostly to yourself, though they do keep an eye on you but never interact with you. But over time your powers have grown even more, so you’re able to gather information about everyone around you, you’re even able to read the thoughts and memories of people on the other side of the planet. Your telekinesis has pretty much made you invulnerable and unbeatable, but you could care less about the game that is superheroes and supervillains, so you much prefer a normal life.
When things with the seven start to go down, Edgar must have become desperate as multiple members die or are taken off the team for some reason. The unstable standing of Vought makes him decide to try and make you work for him again, knowing how useful your telepathy could be when it came to dealing with other people. But when you don’t even read the letter he sends you and instead light it on fire with your telekinesis, Edgar decides that if you wont work for Vought you cant be allowed to exist as you pose a threat to them.
Vought ends up sending Homelander your way, having filled his head with different stories of why you need to be gotten rid of and how much of a threat you pose to Vought and his own popularity. Over all these years you had worked mostly normal jobs, and for the past few years you had worked in an office building as a medium ranked worker. You were good at your job, and if you used your powers to make it a less toxic work place, no one could blame you.
You had just returned home from work, still wearing your suit and carrying your work suitcase, when Homelander landed in your yard. Luckily you lived in a more isolated area, so no one saw the number one hero land as if he owned the place, his hands on his hips and his red glowing eyes glaring in your direction. It didn’t make more than a glance to know why he was there, a sigh working past your lips as you reach up and rub your temple since you had planned on just spending the evening relaxing, maybe catching up on a show you had been putting off.
Homelander could only watch in confusion as you held up your hand in a wait here motion, opening your front door to place your suitcase down inside, working off your jacket to place it inside before closing the door again. Rolling your shoulder you barely gave John time to react before he found himself flying through the air, unable to keep up with your speed and overpowering strength.
John had never been overpowered before, so he did all he could to try and hit you. But even when his fists or lasers hit you it left no damage, which only worked to enrage and humiliate the blonde even more. As if you were finally done with indulging him, you used your telekinesis to throw him to the ground, binding his arms to his body and making it impossible for him to move.
It was when you landed beside him that you really looked at him, having mostly tuned out his thoughts during the whole fight. But it was seeing him laying there, trying in vain to wriggle free from your hold, his hair ruffled and eyes shiny with tears, that you let your telepathy brush against his thoughts with more purpose.
The influx of humiliation and lust was a surprise whilst it also really wasn’t, and you could help but smirk and chuckle, causing Homelanders eyes to flash red as he felt enraged at your laughter. The two of you were in the middle of nowhere, so no one saw you pull John to his knees, using his blonde hair as a grip to pull you whichever way you pleased. It was clear just how touch starved the supe was, as he almost seemed to arch into your hand, his eyes fluttering as he felt the flash of pain in his scalp.
John couldn’t help but buck his hips at the burning humiliation, his eyes growing even more teary as he glanced up at your passive expression, as if he wasn’t anything special kneeling between your knees the way he was. There was something so good about being overpowered, it was something Homelander had always craved but had never been able to be given since he had always been the strongest. But here he was, his arms bound behind his back with a power he couldn’t even see, aching hard between his thighs as he almost shivered in anticipation.
The power of Homelanders want washed over you like a tidal wave, making twinges of heat gather in your abdomen, making your length harden up little by little. The blonde must have smelled the change in your hormones thanks to his heightened senses, a feeble whimper passing between his pouty lips as he tried to press his head forwards towards your crotch, but unable to move as the grip you had on his hair tightened.
The noises John made were nothing like one would imagine Homelander would make, tiny warbled pleas falling from his spit covered lips as he kept chewing and licking at them, as if he was aching for something in his mouth. When he finally let the title that had been in the forefront of his mind slip from his lips you let out a groan of your own, and seeing your reaction Homelander started repeating “Daddy, please.” His voice growing more and more desperate as the lust built in both of you.
The fight had long left Homelanders body, replaced by the extreme need to serve you, to be a good boy. So, when your belt buckle opened without you using your hands, and your boxers were tucked down under your balls releasing your hard length to the cold air, John keened like he was dying. You held him in place with one hand as you used the other to grab around the base of your length, leading it to his mouth which fell open without any issue, John sticking out his wet tongue as he looked up at you with wet begging eyes.
His eyes almost rolled back into his head as he finally got his mouth around you, the hand in his hair loosening as he started bobbing his head in a desperate display. John had little skill in sucking someone off, but he made up for it with the sheer enthusiasm in which he put into the task. Spit dribbling down his chin as he gagged on your cock, his own hips twitching with the movement as having something in his mouth only stimulated him more.
You could see him rubbing his thighs together, stimulating his own hardness as he deepthroated you, tears running down his cheeks as he rubbed his tongue against the underside of your cock. Feeling pity for the blonde you used your telekinesis to wrap around him, feeling like a tight fist wrapped around his length under his suit. The sudden feeling made Homelander moan, the noise muffled by the length between his lips, his eyes falling shut as he started humping his hips as if to fuck the invisible fist around him,
Being as turned on as he was, it wasn’t a surprise that John came quite quickly, spilling in his boxers and the inside of his suit, high pitched whines falling from his lips as he tried his best to keep sucking, bopping his head in uneven movements as his head swam with an orgasm. The feeling of his orgasm washed over you in return, your telepathy making it almost impossible to not feel it alongside him.
Pulling out of his mouth he whined, his mouth hanging open as he finally opened his eyes again to look up at you. John stuck out his tongue as he watched you wrap your fist around yourself, jerking your length as he let out quiet huffs and groans, his toes curling in his boots as he watched you get closer and closer. When you finally came you let it shoot all over his face, watching as some of it get all the way into his messy hair, though most of it struck his mouth to which John moaned. He waited until you were done cumming until he tucked his tongue back into his mouth, wanting to taste you as much as possible.
You both were silent for a moment, both panting to catch your breaths and come down from your orgasms. When you finally released the telekinetic hold you had on John he slumped forwards, having gotten used to not having to support his own weight. You were quick to catch him, helping him to his unsteady feet as he leant against you for support, tucking his head into your neck as he shivered and whimpered.
Sighing you ran a hand through his hair, causing Homelander to lean back into your hand like a cat, you realized you couldn’t leave him like this. You made sure to clean up his face, making sure he was doing okay before you picked him up in a princess carry, kicking off the ground as you started flying back to your home. John could only tuck in close against you, completely having forgotten why he was sent to kill you in the first place because he was so comfortable and relaxed.
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writeshite · 6 months
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How would Thor/Homelander/Soldier boy react to them accidently hurting (emotionally or physically) their bf?
Thor:
Probably the only one here with some emotional intelligence, and yeah, he used to be arrogant, but he's a sweetheart, an absolute angel. Thor is most likely very in tune with how you convey emotions, I mean he worships the ground you walk on.
If he hurts you physically, and you end up scared of him, I can see two things that could happen, he either distances himself from you for a while to work through the mental breakdown that probably hits him. Second option is he hovers; I mean, the man can summon thunder and control lightning - regardless of what species you are (Kree, Human, Asgardian, Elf, Skrull, etc.) - he's gonna be concerned cause I mean, he could maybe indirectly stop your heart, or crush your internal organs, or just hurt you brutally and painfully in any other way.
If he hurts you emotionally, he's groveling; he's doing everything in his power to show how sorry he is and how much he loves you. He'll probably ask you what you want, if you want distance he'll give it to you, he'll stay away until you call back and hopes it doesn't lead to a breakup.
Homelander:
Like father like son, I guess. Sort of. I think with all the time he's spent around people and getting high of approval, he at least has some sort of knowledge on emotions, but not like in a healthy normal way, more in a 'I've been around people crying and whining before I know enough to be able to speedrun the crying stage and get to the forgiveness part' if that makes sense.
Also, I feel like it would also depend on how your relationship is; if you and Homelander have a genuine thing going on, then he'd probably put in effort cause he doesn't want to lose the only source of actual genuine affection in his life. So you'd probably get an apology, some gifts, anything Homelander thinks will get him back in your good graces. And then cuddles.
If your relationship is a fling of some kind or fake relationship to hype the masses with no romantic feelings of any kind involved on his end, then you ain't getting no apology honey 💀, because I mean, he likes to embarrass people who he perceives have wronged him, so even if he's the one at fault for hurting you physically or mentally, it'll somehow become your fault, so he'll probably bring the fight out into the public, use Vought to paint you as the one in the wrong, if you don't want that to happen then you should apologize, you're the one who's wrong here.
Soldier Boy:
I love Ben, I do, but I know this man has like the emotional bandwidth of a rock like he's probably still trying to process being attracted to not only women while also trying to unpack his goofy ass douchebaggery.
I don't think Ben would notice at first if he hurt you emotionally, or if he does, he'd probably think you'd get over it and then be shocked if/when you don't. He'd feel bad and experience the wonderful world of guilt.
If he hurt you physically, he'd notice a lot quicker, and probably feel worse, I feel like he's the kind of guy who takes physical injuries/pain more seriously than emotional and mental.
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alsofortheb0ys · 6 months
Text
DEPOWERED HOMELANDER × MALE READER
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I LOVE DEPOWERED HOMIE! I WANNA SQUISH HIM 🤏🧍‍♂️Sorry, if the ending feels rushed cause it was lol. And I didn't proofread too also👍
John sat quietly on the floor maybe a little too close to the television for the good of his now human eyes. He wasn't really paying attention to the random Chopped episode, just giving his harsh feedback at the chef's mistake.
He had no right to given the fact that he has no knowledge of cooking. The box mac and cheese with undercooked noodles and chucky sauce that was still in the pot that sat in his lap that he was eating with an Ikea kids spoon.
Ever since losing his powers nearly a year ago, this was the daily occurrence for John. A constant cycle of depression that never went away.
His whole purpose, the reason of existence was stripped away from him. Vought quickly got rid of him without thought.
They took nearly everything. His apartment and other properties he had. Most of his money. Gave himthe excuse that the bank was a Vought account since he had no form of identification to open one.
Sure, they gave him enough to live out the rest of his life but it was pay for his silence that came with a NDA but they offered no mental treatment for all those years of manipulation and abuse they put him through.
Now he just sits at his and Y/N shared apartment waiting for his return. Y/N was his sole reason to keep going. His light that never stopped shining.
Y/N still worked for Vought, sometimes being gone for days or weeks. There wasn't much of an option to leave. They had trapped him just like John.
Even using John as bait for him to stay. He gets John, Vought gets Y/N.
John wasn't stupid, he knew Y/N wasn't staying by choice but still he felt betrayed.
Y/N always greeted John with the biggest smile and shower him with kisses and praise. John couldn't get his head around how he still loved him. Most of the time John didn't shower of days, still in clothes cover with sweet Thai chili sauce and sweat from his nightmares.
Powerless and useless.
Today would be no different. After getting to the last bit of his food, John hears Y/N's key jiggling as the lock turns.
"Johnny, I'm home!" Y/N says kicking off his snickers as he never comes home without changing out if his costume. Not wanting to risk their privacy and identities.
"You cooked something? It smells good!" Y/N said with enthusiasm.
"Yeah, I did that pasta and cheese thing in a box." John answered with a smile, slightly pride of himself for cooking and because he was happy to see his boyfriend.
"Give me a bite. I'm hungry." Y/N flopped down on the couch, placing his legs on either side of John.
"Is this a new episode?" Y/N says with a mouthful of noodles.
"Yeah, sorry I didn't wait to watch it with you. I wasn't sure when you'd be back."
Usually the two of you watched it together. It was silly but the show was a comfort, reminding him of you and it always eased his mind.
"It's okay. Just watch it with me again."
Y/N began kissing the back of John's short hair that was now brown as the dye wore off and John didn't bother to dye agian. John decided to shave his hair due to the fact it got matted and tangled due to him not bathing.
Well, he did it with your help. John cried while you did it. It felt like he was saying goodbye to who he was. He was no longer The Homelander. A god among men. But John. A weak mud person.
"Stop, Y/N. I'm dirty." John tried slipping away but Y/N's arms were quick to wrap around him, locking him in place. He felt shameful he didn't shower. If he had enough self well, he'd usually shower if he knew you were coming home even though it felt like a huge task.
"It's fine. Don't care. I just want to kiss you."
John gave in and signed. Truthfully, he didn't want him to stop. He loved it. Loved any ounce of affection Y/N gave him, even though he knew he didn't deserve it.
They sat in silence while finishing the episode. Y/N never stopped giving John kisses, just slowed down, giving them ever so often.
"Want to take a bath with me?" Y/N asked as the credits rolled.
"Yeah, that'd be nice. Let me just wash the dishes."
John went to get up but Y/N sat him down.
"Let me soak it and l'lI I deal with it tomorrow." Y/N grabbed the pot and ran to the sink before John could argue.
Even though the act was sweet, it upset John.
Validated he feelings of being useless. John felt tears prick his eyes but quickly blinked them away.
"Alrighty! Ready to go, baby?" Y/N bounced back into the living room, outreaching his hand for John to take.
John nods and stands to his feet, taking Y/N's hand into his. Without any warning, Y/N scoops John into his arms. His arms tuck under John's legs, their chests touching.
Instead of giving protest, John begins to cry uncontrollably. Y/N begins to panic while in his stops right in his tracks.
"Baby? John, you alright? Did I hurt you?"
Y/N tries to turn John's face to look at him, his right hand gently resting on his cheek but John doesn't move.
"No...no..no. P-please...I'm sorry." John wails, his tears soaking Y/N's shirt.
John felt so stupid in the moment. He was crying like a baby while being held like one.
What sets him off is when he remembers when he'd carry Y/N. To the bedroom. The bathroom. After a long day.
John loved being taken care of but he loved giving care. For most of his life, he made decisions based on his satisfaction but when he found Y/N, he felt selflessness. He gave love as pure as Y/N's.
But he can't do it anymore. He takes more than he gives. Y/N gives his all while John wastes away, taking and taking.
He's powerless. Just another thing added to the growing list of things he can never do again.
"No, baby. Don't be sorry. What's got you upset, puppy?" Y/N rubs small circles along John's back as he calms down.
John feels like he's cried all the tears he had. He just whimpers while chewing on the collar of the dirty shirt he was wearing.
It was a coping method Y/N taught him. For the longest time, when John had a panic attack or was overwhelmed, he would hit his fists against his head or bite his lip.
When he was a supe he ran no risks of hurting himself, but he wasn't any more.
He'd bite his lip bloody and bruises covered his cheeks for the first few months. Y/N was there every step of the way, whispering praise and sweet words as he cried himself tired.
Today was no different.
John sniffed, still chewing on his shirt.
"Puppy, you want to talk about it or we can later? But we're going to have too. It's important I understand what's going on with you. I need to know what's the matter."
Another thing that made John hate himself. To Y/N it was important he knew John's emotional well-being but John never paid attention to his.
He couldn't count how much times Y/N would come home stressed from Vought breathing down his neck or how times Ashley called during one of his very few off days.
It was because John didn't understand his own emotions let alone someone else's. He was never taught how to properly deal with them. Just left alone to bottle them up till he exploded.
But Y/N helped him even though John felt like he was going nowhere. Y/N was so patience and caring it almost makes him sick.
"Y/N...I'm useless. W-why don't you hate me?" John finally whispers out, slightly muffled by the t-shirt in his mouth.
"Oh Johnny, you're not." You gave a kiss to his temple. "I love you. Love you so much."
"N-no, y-you're lying. No one can love me." John could feel himself being to tear up again.
"No, baby. Look at me." Y/N gently takes John's face in yhis left hand, making him look at him this time. "I love you with powers and without."
"You sure?" John bearly whispers.
"Yes, baby. More than anything." You promise. "Now do you want to tell me what's up?"
John signs and snuggles his face against Y/N's neck.
He follows Y/N steady breath and feels their heartbeats almost in sync. The warmth of his skin against his.
"I just want to be able to care for you. To be strong for you." John sniffles, he wants to cry again. "But I can't. Feel so useless and weak.
"Aw, my baby. You're not. You're so so strong and I'm so proud of you. I know it's hard for you and can't even imagine how hard you've had it but I'm here for you no matter what."
"You promise?" John's voice was bearly auditable. He sounded like a child making his parent promise that there was no monster under the bed.
"Yes, puppy. I promise." Y/N seals the promise in with a kiss on John's forehead. "How about that bath? You have some cheese on your hair."
"Yeah. I'd still like that."
"Alrighty, baby. You wanna walk or you wanna be carried the rest of the way?"
"Carry. Please." John's words slurred slightly. It seemed that all the crying had suddenly taken all his energy.
"Ok, Princey. All that crying must have gotten you tired huh?"
John doesn't verbally answer but just nods againstY/N's neck. They make their way to the bathroom, Y/N humming a little tune; John closes his eyes and listens.
Y/N sets John on the side of the tub and fills the water, checking once in a while to see it the water's too hot or too cold. He added a bath bomb, a gentle scent of lilies.
Oncethe tub is filled, Y/N begins to take off John's clothes. He never really wore much. Usually one of Y/N's shirt and a pair of boxers.
John closed his eyes tightly. Lately he had a hard time looking at his own body. He was never as muscler as his suit used to show but he didn't need them with super strength. He was much more scrawny now and it made him once again feel weak.
Y/N's warm hands grounded John before he strayed more into his self consciousness. He had picked him up and put him into the warm water. John had opened his eyes to Y/N's removing his clothes.
John smiled. His boyfriend was gorgeous. He felt like he could stare at him for days just admiring his beautiful figure.
"Did I ever tell you you're handsome?" John said as he closed his eyes again. This time not to advoid seeing himself but relaxing into the bath.
"Lots, yes." You chuckle as you gently move John forward so you can sit behind him.
"Well, you are."
Both fell silent as they enjoyed their bath together. Y/N's wandered, lathering soap on John's body. His hair, his back, his shoulders, his chest, every part of him treated gently.
"Y/N?" John breaks the silence.
"Yes, puppy?"
"Thank you. For everything. I know I'm hard to deal with. I'm trying to get better. I promise. You stayed though you didn't have to. But you did. I want you to know I'm grateful." John teared up again, not out of sadness this time.
"It's okay, Johnny. I stay cause I love you. I know you're trying and you have been better. Just baby steps."
John did feel better. He had a ways to go but Y/N was with him and that was all that mattered.
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vampdes · 1 year
Text
— “DARLING, DON’T YOU LOVE ME?” [do you love those kids more than you love the second most powerful supe in the world? you could crush his skull with your thighs and he’d love it. why do you not love him? oh love him, for everyone’s sake.]
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GENRE. smut + unhealthy fluff
PAIRING. homelander x gn!reader
CW. lowercase intended, gn!reader, top!reader, amab!reader, single parent!reader, supe reader, mood swings [john]. PETNAMES. sugar, sweetheart, asshole [affectionate/derogatory]. KINKS. cockwarming, manhandling [?], heat/hot touch [?].
NOTES. this is a VERY, VERY old draft from 2020, i js had it in my drafts so in posting it but it is also a blurb /⁠ᐠ⁠。⁠ꞈ⁠。⁠ᐟ⁠\. enjoy!! <3
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serene was the name given to the newest, most powerful vought supe of all time. you, more powerful than the seven put together, were sat on top of a stage at one of the press conferences. you were being asked questions, but it was tireless nevertheless.
“the workspace? between me and you–amazing breakfast, there’s a pool shaped like idaho on the 34th floor, and amazing co-workers! it couldn’t be better, really.” you joked, a heart-warming laugh leaving your lips. in all honesty, your personality made women’s panties drop; mainly because you were stunningly hot, enjoyed ‘little women’, and, according to social media, were written by a woman.
the female reporter who asked the questioned laughed along with you before allowing another reporter to speak. the next reporter stood up and asked if you have a lover, which was a random out-of-the-blue question.
“me? oh goodness, all the attention is on me now!” you joked, a wry laugh leaving your throat after you had sat up straight. “well, i do–” you started before glancing over at madelyn stillwell, her head shook in a non-approving way. then, the idea of the repercussions get shoved in your head.
on one hand, john would be angry. but on the other hand, vought is your job, a high-paying job at that, therefore you need to keep it for the sake of you and your children. “i do not.” you declared, looking back into the camera, “unfortunately, i’m just looking for the right one.” you could feel the grip john had on your thigh since the beginning of the panel tighten, it didn’t hurt in the slightest but you could still feel the leather prodding at your thigh.
the interview ended swimmingly after a few more questions given to the rest of the team, and after all that you just wanted to go home, cook and eat with your children, and then take a nap. however, john wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen.
“why did you lie? you’re ashamed of me, aren’t you?” he screamed, he threw your handmade vases against the floor in a fit of rage. “john, please–alexis and truly are waiting for me, so i need to leave; we can talk about this tomorrow.” you combed a hand through your tangled hair after you had gathered your clothes in your bag, and slung it over your shoulder. you face was free of makeup, which shown your deep, horrid eyebags; and it was obvious you needed sleep. john didn’t care though, he wanted answers, he demanded answers and he would be damned if he didn’t get any.
“you obviously lied! you’re a liar! you probably don’t even have children! oh my god, you’re a fucking–” his eyes started to glow red, that’s when you knew it was enough. you silenced his continuing rambling with a kiss, and he immediately melted against your lips. the kiss was longer than you intended it to be, and only breathless pecks and fuzzy feelings were what remained as the after-affects. “i love you, john, i truly do with all my heart.” he nodded at your words, a deadly, light blush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears. you laughed, the smile on john’s face made a smile come on your face.
“i love you, [name],” he declared, “so fucking much–” john hastily kissed you. desperation, agony, love overflowed into the kiss, and fuck it was crazy how good john is at kissing.
“fuck, john, wait-” he shut your complaining up with more kisses, more fondling, more desperation. “i want you so badly. so, so fucking badly.” he whispered against your lips after pecking you once more. he straddled you, already rubbing himself against your clothed crotch, and he was enjoying himself rather too much.
“please, i need you so badly.” john knew better than to just fuck himself on your cock without your permission first. “do you think you deserve it, sweetheart, really?” john nodded, eyebrows furrowing together as he could feel his cock twitch against his thigh, just feeling his cock rub against your own made his head spin. john, somewhat, calmed down and now he was resting on top of your lap, cockwarming you.
it was just so good to be on top of you, feeling your cock reach the deepest depths of pleasure no other could reach was so fucking good. john needed to ride you, it was like an unbearable urge residing deep inside of him; fortunately, he commits to all of his urges. the feeling of your cock moving in and out of him was more than drool-worthy, it felt so, so, so fucking good. you told him he was supposed to just sit there and be grateful for what he’s being given, but he didn’t care to listen, no matter the consequences he would receive. you felt so good inside of him, your cock touched every single nerve inside of him and it sent a shiver through his body.
“sweetheart, stop.” you warned, trying to focus on your work rather than john’s desperation, but he didn’t listen. again. you took off your suit-issued gloves and the protective ones underneath, and wrapped a hand around his waist. the skin-burning heat made him buckle down against your torso, quivering and whimpers followed soon after. “you’re an asshole, john. you only listen when i use force like a dog who needs to be taught a lesson.” you spat. “again..” he meekly whispered against your neck, heavy, hot breaths coming from him.
“again?” you questioned, a sinister snare on your face, “what, you want it hotter? enough to hurt you?”, your inquiry received a shaky ‘hurry up’ from him. you laughed a little before placing your freezing cold hand on his lower back, john started to complain before the heat wave spread across his body, igniting his skin aflame. “a–ah! nngh..” he wanted to say stop, the pain was unbearable but it felt so, so good. the homelander was enjoying the pure pleasure that pain brings him. drool went down his lower lip and his chin, fuck it felt so good to be in pain. your cock twitched inside of him after he clutched around you, trying to regain his senses and register what his main focus is. you realized how far-off he was, which was quite a wonderful look, and decided that it was your job to fuck the sense back into him.
after closing the macbook on your desk and removing your right hand’s suit-issued glove and protective glove, you gripped his thighs, your nails digging into his flesh, and lifted him up, only a few meters above your lap. “what’re you–” before he could finish his sentence, a loud, girlish moan left his lips. he instinctively covered his mouth with his gloved hands, not wanting to be so vulnerable in front of you. “c’mon sugar, let me hear your beautiful voice.” his face flushed at your words, but that sweet, sentimental moment didn’t last for long because you pounded back into him–repeatedly. every time your cock slammed back into him, a breathless moan departed from his lips. it was a harmony, a melodic noise that pierced through the tension-filled room.
“it’s... not enough, i want more, please give me more.” john begged and whined for more than touch. he wanted a burning sensation crawling up his spine, slowly but surely burning his skin. fucking hell, it was dangerous to do, he’d surely have second to third degree burns along his backside, but he wouldn’t dare to stop, even if he was down to bare bone. “burn me, fucking burn me before i—”, john let a shrill pass his lips after his skin turned a sickish red shade, cum coated his lower abdomen from the exciting feeling of him being perched on hells hottest fire.
john’s body was covered in life-threating burns, saliva running down his chins, and his blue eyes glazed over: a sight for a pair of lucky-as-fuck eyes. he seemed to be passing out. it was too much, maybe. probably. most likely. he was so beautiful when he was done being a bitch, and fuck he felt so good inside. john pulled you down by your tie and pressed your into his, which effectively made a whimper leave his throat.
it was evidently obvious you would be home late due to taking care of a certain someone’s needs.
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© CREDITS TO ur1nonlydan. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORKS
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blindmagbrolena · 6 months
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Ruiner ( m!reader )
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18+ 2.8k incubus!homelander x m!reader. bottom homelander, extremely dubious consent, oral, comeplay/eating, riding, dirty talk, tail fucking, mild mindbreak, transformation, possessive behavior, marathon fucking, multiple orgasm, tail oral? mild breathplay, no refractory period.
After weeks of exhaustion, no matter how much sleep you get, you wake to a strange visitor in your bed. In a dark and honied voice, he promises you the pleasures found only in eternity.
m!reader version of this fic. written for monsterlander mania just wanted to ride incubus!HL riding cock and getting cum-drunk. 🖤 thank you so much @homeb0ys for this SICK edit of our incubus boy!
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For weeks, your nights have been plagued by a strange restlessness. No matter how early you retire to bed, you wake up heavy and groggy. It’s as if you close your eyes for a second, and then instantly wake twelve hours later, as unrested as ever. By the time you go to bed tonight, you’re nearly in a state of delirium, collapsing atop the covers without bothering to change your clothes.
The sun hasn’t set yet, but your eyes are too heavy to stay awake. Your whole body aches in misery.
“Please, just one… One good night,” you plead, bordering on tears as you curl up, nuzzling into your pillow. You fall asleep almost instantly–as you always do–and pray to anyone or anything willing to listen that this time, you actually rest.
You’re not sure what time it is when you wake. Strangely, it’s still dark out. You can’t remember the last time you woke before the sun rose, too exhausted to imagine it. Your head lolls from one side to the other, seeking out the LED glow of your clock, but you can’t make out the numbers. They’re bleary, and to your misery, you’re still heavy with fatigue.
The weight is more than that, though. You don’t just feel heavy, you feel something upon you. In the dark, you can make out a shadow above you. You trace the silhouette with your eyes, which widen as you see two glowing crimson spheres returning your stare.
“Hey you,” the figure above you purrs in a low voice so deliciously warm and sweet, you swear you taste it on your tongue. “Really did a number on you, didn’t I? You’re just so damn… tasty,” the figure coos, leaning down into the dim light of the moon spilling into your room, allowing you to properly see who is speaking to you.
You see strong features. Pronounced cheekbones, a broad, flat nose bridge, and the second the light hits them, those eerie red eyes shift into a handsome endless blue. His head is topped with a clean sweep of golden blonde hair, and when he tilts it, you see the distinct curve of long, twisting black horns jutting out on either side of it. You feel a scream build in your lungs, but it stays there, tight and unescaping in your chest. You realize you can’t move. You can’t speak.
“But I can admit when I’ve gone overboard, okay? And since you’ve been so good to me, I’m gonna be good to you,” he tells you, dragging a single finger down the line of your throat. It’s clawed, you realize belatedly, and you hear it cut through your clothing as easily as shears through paper.
You try desperately to choke out something, say anything, but it’s as if your throat is being held in an invisible vice lock. You’re shocked you can breathe.
“Shshshhhh,” he hushes, warm hands pulling the shreds of clothing from your body. You know your room is cold, but all you can feel is the heat rolling from the body atop yours like a burning hearth given flesh. “Relax. It’s me. And we’ve had so much fun together, you and I,” he says, leaning down to brush his lips over yours. The contact sparks like a shock of electricity, making you gasp. With that jolt comes a flash of images one after another, the blurry edges of them falling somewhere between memories and dreams only half remembered.
You’ve been here before, felt the lick of this heat against your skin. Your own moans echo in your ears like a cacophony of overlapping instances of self. Every inch of your skin feels hot, like you’ve just been submerged in a scorching bath. Flashes of nights spent in the throes of ecstasy assault your mind, and at the center of it all, a pair of lucent rubied eyes.
“That’s it, see now. See how you’ve been mine all along,” he murmurs, lips brushing the hollow of your throat. His tongue drags a hot trail down your chest, dipping to the side, where he sucks a mark into the swell of your right pec. He pulls away with a soft pop, and kisses his way to your nipple. This time, you can feel the inhuman length of his tongue coiling around the sensitive hard bud like a serpent before you feel the pull of his lips sucking at you.
He takes your opposite pec in his clawed hand and massages it with his palm, coaxing more noises from you, more exquisite pleasure. The miasma of his presence is so overwhelming, you can feel it in the weight of the air. Every breath you take feels heavy in your lungs. Bit by bit every drop of panic drains from you, replaced by sweltering shameless enjoyment. The more you allow it, the better his hands feel. His mouth feels best of all, a wicked thing that makes your skin feel so good it burns.
He uses his knees to spread your legs, and that’s when you feel the touch of something thick between your thighs, dragging up the curve of your ass, curling around your rapidly hardening cock. It moves strangely, with articulate deftness that defies all expectation. You jolt, a moan escaping you as it strokes you.. “What is that?” You rasp, unsure of when you became able to speak again.
“Me,” he tells you, and the feeling disappears. A second later, you see an appendage rise up behind him. A tail, you realize. It’s as black as his horns, long and ridged on the top. The bottom reminds you of the belly of a snake, with smooth scales that layer seamlessly down. You watch, transfixed, as he brings it to his lips and opens wide, taking it into his mouth. You see just a flash of gleaming, sharp fangs. When the tail pulls away, it’s coated in a shiny, thick layer of saliva. 
It disappears, and you feel the pressure of it at your hole now, slowly and somehow painlessly easing you open, his saliva making it unnaturally slick. You feel each and every bump as it slips into you, firm but malleable. You writhe, letting out a jagged moan. You realize you can move when you reflexively grab onto his hair, though the knuckles of your right hand bump his horn. Instinctively, you take hold of his horn, giving it a sharp pull that makes him moan.
He pulls off of your nipple with a wet pop, both of which have grown tender under his attention. “More,” he encourages you, tilting his head to tug against your grasp. You comply, taking both of his horns into your hands and pushing his head down, down, down.
“Good, that’s good,” he growls, claws dragging tantalizing lines down your body, the sharpness of them drawing faint welts on your skin. He grabs your thighs and leans in to tongue the head of your aching cock, pulling another moan from you. “Take, sweetheart. Take as much as you want. Take like I take from you,” he says, words like an inferno breathed on the most sensitive part of you.
You swear you can feel strength returning to your body. Your eyes no longer burn with desire for sleep. For the first time in weeks, you truly feel awake again.
His tail pushes deeper inside you while his impossibly long tongue wraps around the length of your cock. You throw your head back and yank on his horns, back arching. You bounce your hips, fucking yourself down on his tail and up into his mouth. He laughs against you, humming in pure delight at the way you hold him in place, shamelessly using him for your mounting pleasure. The vibrations drive you steadily to the brink.
You feel feverish with need, sweat prickling your skin. His mouth feels silky and hot around you while the ridges of his tail make you writhe with every push and pull. You come hard, clenching down on his tail, legs tightening on either side of his head, yanking his horns hard enough that he makes a shuddering noise of pleasure against you, your cock buried all the way down his throat.
The euphoria is so intense that your vision turns white, but it doesn’t last. The waves fade out, and you’re left breathing heavily, wanting more. Your cock is still almost painfully hard in his mouth.
“More,” you voice immediately, even as your legs shake. He pulls off of you with a slurp and messily licks his lips, swiping his spit from his chin with his thumb before sucking it into his mouth. “I need more,” you say fervently.
He crawls up the length of your body like a stalking tiger, settling his weight overtop of you. He kisses you, licks the taste of sex and cinnamon into your mouth. His tongue curls around yours, pushing almost to the back of your throat. He breaks from you with a ragged breath. “You’ve kept me so well fed. Now it’s my turn to give you everything,” he vows, reaching down between your bodies. 
Your brows furrow, lips parting on a silent cry as you feel him take hold of your cock in a firm grip, and in one slow, continuous slide, welcome you into the tight, wet inferno of his body. He moans, holding you still while he takes every inch of you. 
“Been so fucking perfect for me. Beautiful cock always dripping for me before I even touch you. You want to feel like this forever, don’t you? But why be my pet when you could be my equal, hmm? I can make you like me,” he whispers, punctuating every word with a roll of his hips that brings you a little deeper each time. All the while, he’s still slamming his tail in and out of you. “And we’ll eat, fuck and live how we want for all eternity. Tell me that’s what you want.”
You keen, spreading your legs wider in an attempt to adjust to the girth of his tail. You nod eagerly. The last thing you want to do is leave this exquisite agony behind, return to the mundane monotony of your life beyond this burning perfection. 
“Use your words, sweetheart,” he coos, cupping the side of your face. The sharp claw of his thumb drags across your cheek, barely light enough not to break the skin. He rocks his hips greedily, alternating his pace with the slide of his tail, which only gets thicker the deeper he fucks you. “Before I have to break you… Tell me that you want me to keep you.”
You grip his shoulders, struggling for breath. You feel so unbelievably full as he fucks you, both taking him and taken by him, floating on the overwhelm of sensation, but you’re present enough that his words send a shiver down your spine. “Yes. Yes, I want you to keep me. I want you to be mine forever,” you say, not wanting to lose this again. You don’t want to forget. You don’t want him to stop. You’re addicted to this. To him.
He moans loudly, dipping back down to kiss you. He takes hold of your throat and pulls his tail almost all the way out before driving it hard back in at the same time he bounces on your cock, swallowing up your answering noises while he picks up a punishing pace, pounding you into the mattress hard enough that the whole bed shakes, headboard slamming against the wall.
“Fucking… tight,” he moans as you get closer to another climax, his voice frayed and eager as his tail twists inside you. “I won’t insult you by stopping when you come. I’m going to fuck you until I can taste your come inside me,” he growls, hips snapping harder with each word. The combination of his tight, wet hole and thick tail slamming into you causes the last tether in you to snap, and you’re coming again, dragging your nails up his back while he mercilessly pounds you into the bed. 
He’s just as unrelenting as he promised to be, growling into the crook of your neck. You gasp when he sinks his teeth into your skin, holding you in place and riding you like an animal until he, too, succumbs to his pleasure, his groan muffled into your flesh while a rush of heat splatters over your stomach, ribbons of it reaching all the way up to your chest.
You’re sure that’s the end of it.
You’re wrong.
He doesn’t stop thrusting. His cock is still hard where it bounces against your stomach, his lust insatiable as he grinds down against you. “No breaks for you,” he rasps, lapping at the bite he left at your neck. He dips further down to lick his own come from your chest. “This is your only purpose now.” 
He straightens up, arching his back to take you deeper, sinking his full weight down on you. You hear a noise behind him that sounds like tree branches snapping, and two enormous, leathery black wings unfurl from his back. His eyes glow like burning coals in the darkness. You give a shuddering moan as his tail slides out of you, reappearing over his shoulder.
He brings it right to your lips.
“Open,” he murmurs. You do, parting your lips and welcoming the silky slide of his tail on your tongue. He tastes like salt, sex and warm spices. Your eyelids flutter as you suck, moving your tongue greedily over the tip of it. He bows his forehead back down against your shoulder, moaning in your ear so hungrily that you realize it must feel good to him. You suck harder, and sure enough, he shudders, pinning you down by your shoulders while he fucks himself harder.
“Ffffuck, you’re so fucking good for me. Take me so good, feel so good inside me. Perfect cock for breeding every fucking hole. You’ll give me every drop, won’t you?” His rhythm never falters despite how ruined his own voice sounds. He pushes his tail deeper into your mouth, fucks your throat the same way he fucks himself on your cock, making it hard to breathe.
He comes again, dragging you over the threshold with that same intense clench of his body. You tremble all over, lightheaded from lack of oxygen. His tail slips from your lips only to be replaced by his thumb hooking the corner of your mouth. He peers inside, and his lips split into a wicked grin. “Good boy,” he rumbles, prying your mouth open wider, inspecting your teeth. Confused, you roll your tongue along your top teeth, and only then do you understand.
You have fangs.
Before you can express your disbelief, he kisses you again, rocking against you in comparatively leisurely thrusts, luxuriating in the soaking wet mess you’ve made of his hole, your own come spilling and wetting your lap and balls. “Just a little more, sweetheart, and you’ll be just like me. You and me? We’re gonna eat this whole fucking world alive.”
You lose track of how much time goes by. You lose track of how many times you come. How many times he comes. He fucks you until your hole and cock are both raw, and your voice hoarse. He kisses, licks and bites his way over every inch of you. It’s as if he desperately wants to devour you, and the only thing holding him back is his promise to keep you. 
You don’t have a single thought left in your head other than fucking him deeper, feeling more of him, tasting more of him. You’re so intoxicated by his perpetually tight, velvety hole that it’s made you stupid, focused only on the pleasure he has to offer you. It should hurt, you think, and yet all you feel is resplendent euphoria.
He changes you. You grow more than fangs; your nails turn to claws, and you can feel the weight of horns on your skull. “You’re so fucking beautiful,” he moans, coming on you again, adding to the slick mess he’s left between your bodies. You feel his tail twist around yours. You scoop your fingers through the layer of come on your stomach, and he hungrily sucks them clean.
“So fucking perfect. I love you, I love you, I love you,” he chants deliriously, adjusting your body against his own as he starts to ride again. When his eyes aren’t red, they’re pitch black, pupils blown and cum-drunk.
The sun never does rise. You’re not sure that it ever will.
You don’t care, though. Not so long as you’re his, and he’s yours.
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estuporious · 2 years
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Homelander: You're the only person that literally understands me, you're honest and never hide me anything and i really love you for that, you mean a lot to me.
Y/N: *Is about to pass out due to his tight embrace*
Homelander: Awww, i love you too!
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staarboyyy · 7 months
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supernova
depowered!homelander x reader | no pronouns
18+ characters / scenarios - minors dni
tags / warnings ; homelander reffered to as john, angst with a fluffy ending, domestic sweetness, anxiety attack, eating difficulties
summary ; john feels lost after losing his powers despite settling into a "normal" life with you.
word count ; 1k
a/n ; i posted this a while back to my old ao3 and wanted to put it here, please enjoy !
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‘ When a massive star runs out of fuel, the force of gravity causes it to collapse on itself and explode. The stars' remains are fired across the galaxy at a speed of forty thousand kilometers per second. Entire galaxies are outshined by the death of one star - A supernova.’
    “Do you think I’m still - Me?”
   
    “What do you mean?”
John fell silent to this question, his eyes cascading slowly over the small apartment before him. It was nothing at all like his room in the tower. Empty, walls barren and painfully dull, the windows only give way to the falling sunset's leaking sunlight, furniture worn in and bought second hand. You pursed your lips as you watched him take in the room for the hundredth time today, his eyes tired and lost, heavy bags underneath the once glittering blue gaze you found yourself swimming in. With a sigh, you bring yourself closer to him on the couch, causing him to give a quick glance to you - John is still himself. Painfully so. Your hands were hesitant for a moment, raising to gently comb through his now fading hair, the dark brown blooming at the roots; Yet his tired eyes suddenly widening at your movement stopped you. He was defenseless, not having left the apartment you bought together for quite some time, losing the muscle mass he once flaunted with shameless pride. His posture had even changed, instead now slumping forward with his elbows resting on his knees, wearing loose pajamas you had brought him home. 
    “It’s all I ever was. So what am I now,”
    John began in a soft voice, his eyes faltering as they drew away from you, to your hands. In his mind, your hands looked different. Everything about you did. He took a slow inhale, the breath swelling in his chest in the same unfamiliar fashion it did since he lost his powers - Everything had become so much more delicate in his eyes; The first time he had helped bring in the couch, you two now sat on, he couldn’t bring it in on his own, and found himself soon weeping on the ground before you, hardly able to explain with words how pathetic he felt he had become. Useless in more ways than he could ever think. Even the small things, having to keep up with eating and drinking water, had become more of a challenge than he had anticipated, and it showed in how his fingers trembled. He so desperately wanted to be grateful when you reminded him, but he still seemed to have a glint of fierceness in his eyes when you did - How dare you assume you knew better than him? But now you had. You had come to know him more than anybody else in the world.
    “You’re here. With me. In a shitty one-bedroom apartment with terrible plumbing, and a t.v on the ground. But, you’re here still. If that was all you were, you wouldn’t still be here, you know?”
    Your words made his breathing hitch slightly, head falling to avoid your gaze - This was something he did far too often these days. Choosing to let the words fester angrily in his mind, the feeling of his lashes becoming wet from the absurd uncontrollable urge to cry, making his stomach turn nauseatingly. John hated crying more than any of the other traits that came with losing his sense of self. How the unbridled heat gathered tightly in his throat, unable to breathe through it how he normally would have. It’s suffocating how his breathing shakes, his hands clenching in feebly weak fists, nails digging hard into his palms. It hurts. Searing hot, the bubbling need to let a sob break from his chest seems to take over all other rational senses. A strangled gasp escaped him, your arms coming quickly to wrap over him as he shakes his head - He wants to pull away, to scream, to collapse to the floor and beg for whatever God there might be to take him back. To pull him back to the subconscious torture of being the face of America. 
    “I can’t protect you - I can’t even protect myself.”
    You held onto him still, your grasp firm in an attempt to ground him. The feeling of his panic rising made him feel absolutely sick. To experience adrenaline in a way he’s never felt or seen before, to feel the fear he once drank down in careless gasps - It made him feel glued to the spot, a deer in the headlights. Your arms felt strong, felt stable, and hard around him as you pulled him closer to your chest. For so long, John had been able to hear your heart from standing yards away, and now the rarity of it became one of a cherishable sound. His ear pressed against your chest, his breathing still faltering as he listened quietly, foreign tears lacing down his cheeks in slow streams, his eyes wrenched shut in an expression of agony. 
    “You’ve always protected me; You never needed powers to do that. You make me feel safer than anyone, even now. Especially now.”
    John’s eyes slowly opened at this, the sound of your steady heart filling his head, silencing his own thundering one. To him, protection had always been dependent on his strength over others, mind, and body. How he was so easily able to twist words, make others blood run cold with just the sound of his voice or a squeeze of his gloved fist. His eyebrow twitched, lips moving briefly to form words that refused to leave his now swimming mind. He looked nearly confused at how you could so easily speak to him despite your shifting expression of furrowed brows, eyes warm and sympathetic. Normally, John would have jumped at this type of rumbling fear, using it to fuel the continuing power he bathed in - But instead, he slowly raised his hand to meet your cheek. It used to feel so malleable underneath his fingers, yet the warmth spread over his palm now, gently moving across the soft skin with a soft rumbled exhale from his lips. 
    “You promise?”
    “I promise.”
    And then for just a fleeting moment, his breathing calmed. Everything felt safe in this moment, his hand on your face, gently clutching you in hopes of not losing you. Never losing you.
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marksbear · 1 year
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can i request like literally any character/ set of characters x a male reader who based off of looks/his style, doesn't look like he'd have a southern accent or something like that, but does
idk if you know much about monster high, but yk kieran valentine? basically like him 💀 (bro is a handsome vampire with a southern accent like??? 💀💀) (also if you don't know what i'm talking about, here's a reference https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRsuuprH/ )
(also also, if u wanna narrow down what character(s) to write this for, i suppose anyone from cod, overwatch, or the boys)
Please I had the biggest crush on him. And because I'm cool like that I wrote one character for each fandom listed.
Tittle was gonna be long as hell, so heres a short version. Its gonna be Homelander, Simon (ghost) Riley, and Sigma.
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HOMELANDER X SOUTHERN MALE READER
-Homelander is a judging person. He likes to criticize and study people. So when it came to you he didn't suspect you had an accent.
-In Homelander's defense you didn't dress like you were from the country. Or really like the southern stereotype.
-But once you spoke with your accent it caught him WAY off guard.
-Most definitely stared at you funny. I mean it's not everyday when he hears an accent like that.
-If you have a thick southern accent he'll always listen to your voice no matter how busy the room is or quiet. Your voice interests him so much to the point he wants to be near it.
-When (if) you both start dating he wants to be near you all times to hear you talk. Even when you read a stupid children's book he'll want to hear you read it.
-he hears your voice when hes injured or something It's like medicine to him. "Jesus darlin. You all bloody'ed up." Y/n says looking at Homelander's suit. "Only some were mine, but there's nothing to worry about."
-If you tease him or flirt with him he's already weak in the knees.
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-Simon had a feeling you were different from the rest of them, but you were hiding it well.
-You were like a chameleon. You acted and dressed like you were from one place The next minute you dress like you're from another one.
-But once Ghost heard your accent his jaw would have been on the floor if he wasn't wearing a mask. At first he thought it was one of your little fakes, but once he heard it more and more he realized it was natural.
-Everyone he'd met so far in war had their share of accents, but yours stood out to him. He hasn't heard an accent like that in a good minute.
-With your accent he can hear it over the gun shots or shouting. It just keeps standing out for him. He listens to your words when he isn't even realizing that hes listening until you're done talking.
-He heard Soap call you "cowboy" And the nickname stuck with him. "Cowboy..." Simon mumbles under his breath looking at you. "What is it darlin?" Y/n says looking at Simon.
-He glares at someone whenever they make fun of your accent or they look at you funny.
-Don't even start trying to tease him about him having a thing for your accent. He would be so red under his mask and embarrassed.
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-The way you dress and act doesn't give him the slightest thought that you have a southern accent.
-Sigma isn't the social man, so don't expect him to be all over you because you're new or something. But if you are different from the other people in your class he would watch and study you from afar. But honestly to catch his eye you at least gotta do something he doesn't see everyday.
-Once you two start hanging out more. And once he hears your accent it would music to his ears.
-Sometimes if you're shorter than him he would use his powers to lift you up in the air so he can hear you talk. Your accent enhances/ hypnotizes him.
-He doesn't find it as annoying as Cassidy's (Mcree) but hey gotta start somewhere.
-Sure he may be crazy for your accent, but it would be the healthy lie amount of it.
-Asks if you can sing to him. If you don't know how he'll teach you. Gives you a whole lesson about singing and music and how you can use your voice to make music to make it even better.
-He loves everything about your accent. He would study where you were born and the place history to understand your background more.
The end!
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