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whoreteen · 1 year

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𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐍𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐘 ♥︎ - yoon jeonghan !

◟* ♡ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : not being able to wait until Jeonghan gets off the phone with Joshua, you decide it’d be a good idea to get yourself off on his thigh. He makes sure you pay for that.

◟* ♡ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : thigh riding, begging, oral (f receiving), breastplay, orgasm denial, dirty talk, manhandling, voyeurism, use of pet names, slight use of the words ‘slut’ and ‘daddy’, dom!jeonghan, innocence kink.

◟* ♡ 𝐀𝐔’𝐒 : established relationship, idol!au (ft Joshua)

◟* ♡ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 : 4,3K.

“Jeonghan,” you whined, a frown curving down to the corners of your lips as you stood in the doorway, subtly trying to push your boyfriend to hang up the phone.

Scratch that, you desperately needed him to give you what you wanted, to fuck you so hard until you couldn’t tell your right from your left, to be so close to you; but yet he wasn’t as close as you wanted. He never was and, to be fair, it wasn’t his fault at all. Between his schedule and your time at work, you never had time to hang out, let alone have sex, hence why you’d be damned if you didn’t spend at least some of today making up for lost time.

“Yeah?” he hummed.

You licked your lips, moving a step closer to him before purring seductively, “Can you please hang up? I need you.”

You hoped your statement would make your boyfriend hang up instantly but to your disappointment, he just shot you a smile, before laughing at something the person on the other end said.

So that didn’t get him…

Jeonghan: 1 - Y/N: 0

You groaned louder than intended, feeling yourself getting more turned on as the seconds went by. You watched the smile on his face widen as he continued to talk animatedly, joking about something that had happened at the end of yesterday’s performance. Your eyes darted down to glance at your boyfriend’s bare chest as you tried to stop yourself from drooling.

You were already soaking through your panties and he hasn’t even touched you yet and seeing him sitting there wearing a pair of well-fitting, perfectly worn jeans and no shirt did nothing to calm your libido.

Shaking off your thoughts, you tried your best to quickly compose yourself as you offered him a smile.

“Baby, come on,” you whine, struggling to get his attention for even a minute. “Wouldn’t you rather have sex?”

“You’re so needy,” he said through a smile. “Let me finish this conversation, and then I promise you’ll have my undivided attention.”

You rolled your eyes before looking at him with curious eyes. “Who’re you on the phone to anyway?” you asked.

“Joshua,” your boyfriend half-smiles before turning to put his phone on loud speaker. You offered him a nod before softly saying, “Hi, Shua.”

“Hey Y/N, I missed you,” he replied back, his response coming out in a low whisper.

You indulged in small talk before giving Jeonghan your best puppy eyes and pouty lips, hoping it would be enough to convince him to hang up. He took Joshua off loud speaker before mouthing, “Five more minutes, okay?”

You groaned before deciding to get up and go to the closet in the foyer, and it didn’t take long to find the shopping bag containing the new lingerie set you had bought a few days earlier. You had intended for it to be a birthday surprise for Jeonghan, but this seemed like an equally good time to use it.

Stripping off your clothes, you replaced it with the brand new lace and pink satin bralette and matching thong. Your tits were practically spilling out, and if that didn’t get his attention, then nothing would.

He had left one of his black dress shirts hanging in the closet, so you pulled it on over your lingerie, buttoning it enough of the way up to cover your panties, but keeping the top half open.

You looked at yourself in the mirror and smiled, knowing that your boyfriend would go crazy upon seeing you like this. You knew him oh to well.

You walked back into the bedroom, where he was happily complementing Joshua’s improvement and hard work over the years. When he saw you standing there in the door frame in nothing but his shirt and very revealing lingerie, his jaw dropped and his eyes widened.

You could hear Joshua’s voice through the phone, but Jeonghan was too busy staring at your exposed chest to pay attention to that. It suddenly hit him how long it had been since he had last seen you naked, and his cock responded immediately to the sight in front of him, exactly how you expected him to react.

Y/N: 1 - Jeonghan: 1

“Hello? Are you there? Jeonghan?!?”

Only when Joshua practically yelled his name, he broke out of his trance.

“What-uhm…sorry, I-uh, I missed what you said,” he stuttered, his voice slightly hoarse and you couldn’t help but have a manic smile on plastered on your face, your eyes glazing over from some lust quirk.

After a brief pause to listen to Joshua’s (predictably inappropriate) comment, he responded again, this time with his voice under control, “Yeah, Y/N took off work today, and apparently she’s horny.”

You rolled your eyes, as his best friend no doubt cackled away on the other side.

Jeonghan snickered at his reply. “Oh, don’t worry, I’ll take care of her later,” he said, his brown eyes locked with yours. “She already knows nobody can fuck her like I can.”

You groaned, letting your head fall back as you let out a frustrated sigh.

Well, if he didn’t want to be involved, then you’d at least get yourself off.

Usually you would feel rude interrupting his phone call, but the last time you spoke to your parents, Jeonghan’s fingers had suddenly become very busy. After trying to cover your moans with coughing, your mum had called you every other day for a week to make sure you were drinking enough fluids and weren’t coming down with a cold, so this seemed like fitting revenge for having to go through that ordeal.

You took your time removing his shirt from your body, undoing the buttons slowly as you watched his eyes darken with every extra inch of skin that became visible.

Jeonghan couldn’t help but lick his lips at the sight.

You dropped the shirt to the floor, doing a small twirl so that he could see your entire body.

“She’s pretty needy today,” he told Joshua as you walked up to him, climbing onto the bed so you were kneeling between his spread legs. You could tell he was intent on making him jealous, especially since he knew he had a crush on you. You, on the other hand, had no idea. “…but then again, that isn’t exactly unusual.”

Leaning forward so that your hands rested on the headboard on either side of his head, you bent your elbows so that you could brush your mouth over his, only briefly, before straddling his firm thigh.

“Hi, baby,” you purred, leaning in so close that your lips were almost touching. His breath hitched a little as he tried not to lose his mind, because you were so close.

He couldn’t help but look at you intensely. God, you were just the hottest person he’d ever laid eyes on.

“Hey,” he raised an eyebrow, his tongue darting out to lick his lips as his eyes fell to your lace-clad breasts, now perfectly at eye-level for him to shamelessly ogle. He could see your nipples through the very thin material and you could feel him twitch in his jeans.

More than anything, he wanted to disconnect the phone and take you right then and there, but he also couldn’t help being curious about how far he could go with this.

“She’s straddling my thigh right now,” he said into the speaker, his lips curving into a smirk. He almost immediately grabbed your hips before massaging the skin there, his brown eyes gazing at your exposed thighs. “My baby girl’s usually not this slutty, I don’t know what has gotten into her.”

You felt the heat rising in your cheeks as you bit your lip, not sure how to react to the new side of your boyfriend that you saw in front of you.

You couldn’t help but wonder what Joshua was thinking or saying, you heard a babble of noise from the phone, but couldn’t decipher any of it. The twinkle in Jeonghan’s eyes and the smirk on his face spoke volumes, though. Despite a part of you feeling embarrassed that his best friend knew what you were up to, there was no way that you were going to let your boyfriend win this battle of wills.

Ain’t no way in hell. Mama didn’t raise no bitch, you had to finish what you’ve started.

Setting a slow, rhythmic pace, you slid your hips forward before drawing back.

“Fuck,” you moaned when you pressed yourself down on his thigh and he bucked his hips up against your heat. You made small flicking movements to rub your clothed pussy against him. The pressure only increased your arousal and there was no way you were going to last long.

“Hannie, can you please hang up?” you pleaded, rolling your hips in a circle. You could feel the rush of wetness in your panties, and your skin felt flushed as you sped up your pace slightly.

His eyes travelled to where your cunt was rubbing against him, entranced by the sight of you using his body to pleasure yourself.

“You should see her like this, bro. Panting, begging, her tits bouncing with every move, and her panties fucking soaked. My jeans are going to be damp in a minute.”

A squeak of shock escaped your mouth, and you glanced towards the phone, trying to overhear what Joshua was saying. Your hips kept moving, though, as you grinded your clit against his thigh. You knew he was right, the light wash of his jeans was going to darken with your arousal if they hadn’t already.

“Hannie, please…” you whispered, craving his touch to bring you closer to the edge.

“What do you want, angel?” he quipped and you were ready to snort at him but you refrained, instead taking his free hand in yours and guiding it to your breast.

“Want me to touch you? Is that it?”

You hummed in response.

He squeezed the soft flesh, and even after you moved your hand to settle on his sturdy forearm, he kept you in his grasp. The rough pad of his thumb stroked your nipple through the thin fabric, and you arched your chest into his touch.

You were sure that Joshua could hear your loud noises of pleasure through the phone, but you were past the point of caring.

Jeonghan let out a small chuckle at whatever was said on the other side of the line. He gave your breast one last squeeze before trailing his hand down your body, moving it to grab your ass.

“She’s already left a wet spot on my jeans, I can feel it on my leg. I have no idea what’s got into her today. Maybe she needs two cocks, Shua, what do you think?”

You let out a loud moan, your body subconsciously reacting to his words.

You began riding his thigh harder, feeling your muscles tighten as you rubbed your clit against the rough fabric of his jeans. He adjusted his leg a little to increase the friction, as his hand tightened its grip on your body.

“I think she likes the sound of that,” he sighed into the phone. “I didn’t realize what a dirty girl she was.” He raised his eyebrows at you, a little impressed with the side of you that had come out today.

His hand released your ass for a second before coming back with a quick slap, causing your body to jolt forward as you emitted a small gasp.

“Oh yeah, she likes it rough,” he told him, massaging your ass as he licked his lips, his cock twitching thinking about the red mark he knew was decorating your skin.

Your met his eyes, and silently begged him to hang up the phone and finally give in to you, but he knew that the tide was turning in his favor.

He reached for the pink thong covering your heat before speaking, “Hmm, I think Shua is enjoying finding out just how slutty you can be, don’t you think that it’d be rude to hang up on him now?”

Balancing the phone against his shoulder to free up his second hand, he ripped the flimsy fabric of your panties and tugged them off your body.

Any other day, you would have berated him for destroying yet another pair of perfectly good underwear, but the friction of the rough denim against your bare pussy was the only thing on your mind.

His hand firmly grasped your hip and paused your movements for a second, which allowed him to run a finger across your exposed slit. Bringing it up to his mouth, he swirled his tongue around it, making sure Joshua would be able to hear exactly what he was doing.

“Do I taste good, daddy?” you quipped innocently, voice sickly sweet.

It was as if something snapped in him the second the word left your mouth, you could tell from how tight he was gripping your waist that it was taking all of his will power to not ram right into you and rail you until you couldn’t walk the next day.

“Like heaven,” he groaned. “She tastes so fucking delicious,” he informed his group member.

This time, you could literally hear Joshua’s loud groan through the line, and you knew he was jerking off. The thought made your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t help but let out a whimper.

You let your body grind down hard on your boyfriend’s muscular thigh, one hand wrapped around his bicep, and the other with a death grip on the headboard. “She’s close, Joshua, I can see it all over her face.” He then turned his focus back to you. “Do you want to come for us, baby?”

You vigorously nodded, rolling your hips even faster as your pussy throbbed.

Jeonghan’s cheeks were slightly flushed and you could see the outline of his hard cock straining against his jeans. The knowledge that he was as into this as you were only brought you closer to the edge.

“Shua wants to hear your response, slut,” he gently scolded.

“Yes, yes.. oh fuck, I’m so close,” you moaned out, circling your hips frantically. He landed another harsh slap to your ass, causing you to cry out.

“Can you hear her?” he asked, listening to his response. “Come for us, baby, let Joshua hear how beautiful you sound when you cum.”

With his words, you felt your orgasm rip through you, hard enough to make you see stars for a second. Your body shook with its release, and you were sure that not only Joshua, but probably the whole entire city, could hear you.

As you came down from the high, you slumped against your boyfriend’s chest, slowly catching your breath.

“Yeah, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he finished, before ending the call and tossing his phone onto the bedside table. He tilted your chin up until you were face to face, pressing his lips to yours in a rough kiss.

You adjusted your position so that you were straddling both of his thighs. Your hands knotted into his fluffy hair as he pulled you in closer to his body until you were seated right on his still-covered cock.

Jeonghan let out a soft groan when you rolled your hips experimentally against him, causing his cock to twitch. He pulled away before catching your bottom lips between his teeth.

His hands moved from their place on your hips to quickly unhook your bra so that your breasts were exposed to his lustful gaze.

Moving his lips downwards, he took one nipple into his mouth, biting and sucking until you were putty in his hands. He shifted his attention to the other breast, loving the way your fingers ran through his hair, tugging gently whenever he hit a particularly sensitive spot.

“Fuck me,” you begged, desperately craving him inside you. “Please, daddy.”

“Since you’ve asked so nicely…” he trailed off, smirking at you before easily lifting you off of his body enough to slide out from underneath so that he could climb off the bed.

Your expression immediately switched from one of concern to one of pure desire when he tugged down his jeans and boxers.

When he didn’t immediately climb back into bed, you crawled over to the edge of the bed, reaching forward to gently stroke his long, hard cock and run your thumb over the prominent vein before reaching his tip, loving the way his breathing quickened.

“Don’t,” he growled through gritted teeth. Finally taking control, he gently pushed you backwards on the bed so that you were left fully exposed to him.

He knelt on the floor between your legs and draped your knees over his shoulders. As his breath hit your sex, you bucked your hips upwards, desperately seeking contact.

One of Jeonghan’s fingers traced your core, causing a shiver to run up and down your spine as he looked at you with obvious lust. You were already wide open for him, but his fingers spread you further, baring your clit.

Hooking both of his arms around each of your thighs, he dove straight in, knowing exactly what to do to turn you into a writhing, moaning mess.

You were too lost in pleasure at this point to notice your hips mindlessly rolling up against his face.

“You taste so fucking good,” he mumbled against your skin as he continued to suck and lick your cunt. God, he was so fucking close and it drove you insane… You could feel his touch, his mouth everywhere.

“And you’re so good at this,” you cry out.

His mouth was already doing so much and he was only just starting. “Fuck, don’t stop.”

You craned your neck up slightly, admiring the way his head looked between your legs, his dark hair bouncing as he nuzzled and licked, sucked and licked.

It wasn’t long until Jeonghan could feel your thighs shaking, your body beginning to tense up. You were far too lost in current bliss to even notice how fast your hips were rutting against his face, you were too busy drooling and moaning like a whore to notice how close you already were.

But your boyfriend knew you too well.

Just before you could come, he pulled away from you, causing you to let out a plaintive whine.

“No no no, what the fuck,” you sobbed, sounding like a pathetic, cock-obsessed whore but you didn’t even care at this point. “Why did you stop?”

“This is what you get for distracting me during my phone call,” he smirked, licking your juices off his lips.

Standing up, he gripped your thigh in one hand, his cock in the other, notching the head of himself at your entrance. As he gently thrust forward, just the head slipped in.

You groaned in frustration, trying to rock your hips downwards, but Jeonghan moved his hands to your hips, holding you still.

“It’s my turn now, you already had your fun, remember?” he teased, but internally he was running through every breathing exercise his vocal coaches had ever taught him, trying to get his body to calm down enough to not come at the slightest feel of your warmth enveloping his cock.

He continued to tease you with a few shallow thrusts, as you wrapped your legs around his waist, trying to feel more of him inside you.

You began to whimper, desperately needing him to fuck you properly.

“I bet Joshua is thinking of you right now, don’t you? He’s probably getting off as we speak, to the thought of you like this, begging for a cock inside you,” he purred. With that, he thrusted forwards, loosening his grip on your waist until his cock was fully sheathed inside you.

“Hannie- ah, fuck!”

His deep groan echoed throughout your body, as he leaned forward, placing his hands on either side of your head and leaning down to kiss you deeply. Your moans against his mouth gave him incentive to thrust harder, heat pooling in the pit of his stomach as your tight cunt slowly pushed him closer to the edge.

“You like that thought, don’t you?”

His face now inches from yours, he continued his dirty talk, watching your eyes close as you visualized everything he said.

“You like the idea of Joshua with his hands around his cock while he thinks about fucking you? Would you like to have him here with us right now? With his head buried between your legs until you came? What about having two cocks inside you?” he whispered, loving the way your entire body reacted to the thought of you being shared with his friend.

You tried desperately to stifle your whimpers, but he knew you too well.

“You can’t lie to me, Y/N. I can feel the way your pussy clenches around me every time you think of having Shua here,” he punctuated his words with hard thrusts, bringing both of you closer to the brink of climax.

You let out a moan that would make even a porn star blush, and wrapped your arms around his lanky torso, digging your nails into his back.

“So wet and tight for me, Y/N. He has no idea what he’s missing,” he cooed, his voice dripping with desire. “You feel so fuckin’ good, princess.” He set a punishing pace, turning you into a barely coherent mess of groans and curses.

You tried to respond with your own dirty words, something about how big his cock felt inside you, but you couldn’t.

The angle at which he had you meant that the tip of his cock was consistently rubbing your g-spot, rendering you incapable of forming full sentences. The only noise coming from your mouth was a high pitched whimper, forced from you with every thrust.

Jeonghan, however, was talking enough for the both of you, continuing to murmur about what Joshua would be doing if he was here with you, enjoying the way your body belied your true feelings about those thoughts despite your best efforts to appear unaffected.

He hit that sweet spot inside you and you let out a loud gasp, “Oh my god, that feels so good. Fuck, right there, Hannie- just like that. Please.”

You we’re rambling, not able to control the words that fell from your lips. You didnt know if any of it was coherent, and to be fair, you didn’t care at all. All you could focus on was Jeonghan and the way you’ve never felt this good before.

“Yeah?” he rasps, his throaty tone sending a shiver down your spine. “Like this, baby?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” you cried out as you fucked yourself on him. Jeonghan gulped at the sight and feeling. You were so damn fucking sexy and it was killing him. You were killing him.

“Fuck- I’m so full.”

He groaned loudly when he felt you clench around him before pushing deep into you and staying there. Your pussy felt so full, so stuffed that you couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back when Jeonghan began moving his hips again. He slammed himself once again, causing you to jerk forward but your boyfriend quickly caught you. One thing was for certain, you definitely wouldn’t be able to walk after this.

“God, baby, you’re so fuckin’ tight, I- fuck,” he grunted, panting into your mouth, lips meeting in messy kiss but it was hard to kiss properly now.

“Need you to cum inside me, please, daddy. W-want you to fill me up,” you sobbed, feeling his thick cock twitch inside you. “Please.”

Jeonghan moved two fingers to your mouth and of course you eagerly accepted them. “You sound like a filthy little slut, do you know that?”

You nodded vigorously, eyes wide as your tongue swirled around his long fingers. You knew exactly what to say to turn him on and get him going.

“My filthy little slut, ain’t that right hmm? Show me how much of a desperate slut you are for me.”

You felt your brain get fuzzy as you let yourself get lost in the feeling of his fingers in your mouth. You looked up at him with doe eyes, knowing you looked pathetic as you drooled all over his fingers and eventually, it just felt so good that you couldn’t make any noise outside of muffled whimpers but Jeonghan still didn’t remove his fingers. You didn’t mind though, you loved it - the feeling of being stuffed full of him on both ends was almost enough to make you cum on the spot.

He added another finger in your mouth, stretching your lips wide. Your body arched as you clenched his full length in your walls, your eyes slipping closed and loud muffled cries resonating from your throat.

Jeonghan could tell you were about to cum, the way you were fucking yourself down onto his cock, meeting each of his thrusts.

Removing his wet fingers from your mouth between your bodies before they found your clit and began to make fast circles.

“Cum,” he commanded. “There you go, that’s my good girl, go ahead and let go for me.”

As soon as he felt the telltale signs of your orgasm, he increased the pressure, and you came hard, screaming his name, which you could barely hear over the sound of your own pulse pounding in your ears.

Your body felt limp as he thrust once, twice more before coming with a “fuck” and a loud groan.

He rolled off of you, and the two of you lay there for a while, trying to catch your breath.

After a few moments of silence, you burst into a fit of laughter, turning onto your side to face your boyfriend.

“There’s no fucking way I can look Joshua in the eye ever again.”

Jeonghan snorted in amusement. “You sure you don’t want to come to the concert tomorrow? Stand right in the front row with a sign that says ‘Shua, will you marry me?’”

“Better idea: why don’t I just write ‘Joshua Hong, will you fuck me?’” you joked, winking at him.

With a cheeky grin, he responded, “Best idea: why don’t we spend the rest of today and tonight naked in this bed?” he raised his eyebrows suggestively, and your eyes instinctively darted to his cock, already beginning to get hard again at the suggestion of round two. “So how does that sound?”

“Sounds like the perfect day off.”

#seventeen smut #yoon jeonghan smut #jeonghan smut #joshua smut #seventeen x reader #svt smut #jeonghan scenarios #jeonghan x reader #seventeen scenarios #joshua scenarios #jeonghan fluff #seventeen fluff #writing for other fandoms made me realize #being multi isn’t my cup of tea 😂#enjoy this self indulgent fic!!

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blindmagdalena · 3 months

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Guilty Pleasures ( chapter two )

18+ 3.8k homelander x plus size f!reader. workplace harassment, stalking, voyeurism, masturbation, lite humiliation kink, lite somnophilia, breaking & entering, petty theft, sublander flavored. nebulously takes place post s1. part 2/3. AO3 link. part I.

Homelander is the most powerful man in the world, and all he wants is to be yours.

After spending the majority of your evening and the following morning anticipating being fired, walking into work the next day feels like traversing a thinly frozen lake, each step webbing out in precarious cracks.

Clearly you’re not the only one who thinks so: you clock a handful of surprised looks from coworkers who’d attended the meeting and took note of the tension between you and Vought’s golden boy.

Maybe they’d taken bets on whether or not you’d be coming in this morning.

There’s no sign of Homelander on your way in. Not that you were expecting him–yesterday was the first time you actually saw him in person–but you still find yourself on the lookout. It’s hard to say whether you’re anticipating or dreading him. Part of you is still expecting to open your door and find a letter on your desk politely informing you that they’ve determined you aren’t a good “culture fit” for the company, and that your probation has been terminated.

After all, who in their right mind would take your side over Homelander’s?

You push open your office door, and sure enough, there is a letter waiting for you, but not in the way you expected. You stand in the doorway, staring in quiet incomprehension. The envelope, crisp and bright white, is propped up in a bed of rich red roses sitting in a pretty vase upon your desk. You glance behind you before you step inside, closing the door behind you, and approach the desk cautiously. You pluck the paper out of the bouquet, taking a moment to smell the flowers–they smell as good as they look–before you carefully rip open the envelope, tearing the small american flag sticker that sealed it.

Inside, there’s only one word on the folded piece of paper, scrawled in surprisingly elegant handwriting.

Truce?

You can’t help the incredulous little bark of laughter you give at that. It’s not even an apology. It’s a demand that he expects a gratuitous bundle of flowers will help you swallow, like taking medicine with a spoonful of sugar.

“You’re ridiculous,” you say quietly to the letter, setting it down on your desk. You give the roses one last sniff, testing one of the soft petals between your fingers. You wonder if what you said actually got through to him.

Homelander has no real reason to smooth things over with you: you’re no one. He’s posed no risk to himself by coming after you. He could no doubt have you fired by complaining that your marketing tactics don’t align with his brand. It’s hard to imagine Vought denies him much.

Yet he is apparently negotiating peace. It’s not nearly enough, but it is a start.

Or maybe it’s just more than you expected.

You sit, idly tapping the letter against your desk. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t still think him handsome. Homelander wasn’t the first man to ogle your tits while you gave a presentation, but he was certainly the first to fluster you like that when he did. His sly smile had made you want to slap him, but there was a questionable little part of you that thought about kissing it better afterwards.

Taking in a steadying breath, you slip the letter into your desk drawer and adjust the flowers to the side, admiring them a moment before you pull out your laptop.

If Homelander can behave himself enough to let you do your job without public humiliation, you can afford a truce. You don’t need to forgive or condone him to be civil, or even to continue having your own private fantasies. A little guilty pleasure now and again never hurt anyone.

You can’t know that Homelander is observing you throughout this internal conversation, watching through several layers of steel and concrete, his parted lips curving into a slow smile as you accept his offering. You can’t know that you haven’t just acknowledged a truce, but an invitation.

No, you can’t possibly know what’s to come.

Two days later, you diligently change the water that the roses in your office sit in. They’re doing well, the crimson buds having unfurled into a splay of velvety petals. You pinch one between your thumb and forefinger and stroke it absently. Homelander has continued to be a scarcity, but that doesn’t mean you haven’t seen him. Quite the opposite: you spend most of your working hours either looking at or thinking about his face to the point where it’s starting to follow you home each day.

That’s what you tell yourself when you think of him outside of work hours, anyways.

It’s been long enough now that you wonder if the flowers were the end of it. He was simply covering his ass with a half hearted gesture that slightly resembled an apology so that you could both comfortably drop the subject. That was entirely fine by you so long as he actually did improve his behavior.

A familiarly brisk knock at your door catapults your heart up against the cage of your ribs like a spooked hare. It’s the exact same beat, you’re sure of it. You stay quiet, half expecting to be barged in upon, but when nothing happens, you move from your desk and open the door yourself, intentionally blocking it with your body.

Sure enough, Homelander stands tall on the other side. He flashes his signature smile while your eyes narrow suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“I think I’m the one who can help you,” he says brightly, that spread of teeth downright wolfish. He lifts a handful of papers that have been stapled at the corner, gesturing for you to take it.

Still wary, you take them from him and shift, wedging your foot to keep the door firmly in place while you flip through the pages. Your brows furrow as you recognize chunks of your own presentation. Understanding dawns when you realize that he’s annotated them.

“You read my presentation,” you say, unable to mask your surprise.

“Obviously. It’s my image on the line, right? Got some notes for you, but I have to say: y’mostly nailed it,” he says, reaching out to rest a gloved hand on the doorway.

“Mostly?” You echo, quirking an eyebrow at him as you look up from the pages.

“Yeah, mostly. Again, I have some minor notes,” he says, wiggling his other hand in a vague gesture. “But I figure I owe you praise on a job mostly well done.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

Crossing your arms, you abandon your stern foothold on the door in order to shift your weight, your incredulity showing in every inch of your body language. “What you owe me is an apology.”

Homelander’s grin softens into a smile that’s no less challenging. “Looks to me like you’ve already been enjoying my apology,” he says, leaning slightly to gaze past you, to the bundle of roses sitting prettily on your desk.

You briefly glance over your shoulder, but your expression remains impassive. Unimpressed. “That? That isn’t an apology. An apology would include the words I’m sorry.”

He scoffs a dismissive laugh, swaying back to look away, but you persist.

“I’m serious,” you say, luring his ocean blue gaze back to yours. “I want you to say to me ‘I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation. It won’t happen again.’ “

The two of you hold each other’s gaze with all the magnitude of two gunmen in a duel, hands steady over your proverbial pistols.

To your surprise, Homelander does not fire back. He raises a dainty white flag.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved during your presentation,” he says, words slow and measured. You watch his tongue flash over his bottom lip, wetting it attractively. You fight to not let your eyes linger on it. “It won’t happen again.”

You swallow, suddenly finding thought and speech an impossible task. You weren’t prepared for such raw, ready obedience from him, nor the intensity in his gaze that follows it. He reminds you of a charmed snake–docile so long as he is transfixed.

“Good,” you say, the word half a sigh. Homelander’s lips part and he breathes in like he’s caught wind of something particularly delicious smelling. “I accept your apology, and I appreciate that you took the time to do this,” you say, gesturing with the documents in your hand. “I’ll go over them and get back to you.”

He reaches out, bracing his hand on your office door. You half expect him to push it open, but he merely holds it there. “We could go over them together,” he suggests slyly.

“No,” you say, clearly disarming him. He looks as though he’s forgotten the meaning of the word. “I’m in the middle of another project at the moment.”

The leather of his gloves creaks faintly in your ear as he flexes his grip on the edge of the door. While what you’ve said is true, it’s also serving as a test. Words and flowers are pretty things, but only actions always speak the truth.

“At the moment,” he repeats, gears visibly turning in his eyes. “So… Later?” He extrapolates, displaying an uncharacteristic tentativeness alongside his obvious displeasure at the taste of rejection. You even see a glimmer of hope in the mess of his expression..

He did pass the test. You suppose you can reward him for that.

“Another time,” you say, giving your door an exploratory push. He relents, his hands sliding down the length of it before falling away as he takes a half-step back. “How about tomorrow on my lunch break? 1:00 o'clock sharp.”

He splits into a smile that looks more genuine than any of his you’ve seen before. “Aaalrighty-roo. Sounds gooood to meeeee,” he says, drawing out his vowels more the closer he gets to actually having to leave. At your silent, amused stare, he claps his gloved hands together with a muffled thump! and takes a few more steps backwards. “Yooooou’ll see me… tomorrow.”

Your smile pinches along with your brows. What a strange way to phrase it. “See you then,” you say, watching as his face is eclipsed by your closing door. You wait a beat and then let out a thin thread of breath from your pursed lips, resting your weight on the door.

Looking down at the papers in your hand, you push off from the door and head to your desk, flipping through them.

Such a strange man, you think, carrying the notes to your desk. You set them down next to the vase of roses and try not to think too much about the unconscious smile your lips keep settling into for the rest of the day.

Homelander’s got you hook, line and sinker. He’s certain of it. He lingers on the other side of your door just long enough to watch you through it while you settle, a charmed smile set on your lips. He can already imagine how those lips would feel against his own, how they’d taste. He swallows thickly and looks around before he departs, already plotting his next move.

The two of you have a date tomorrow, and in order to be at the top of his game, he’s going to have to do a little additional research. Knowing your work was a good first step. The next one will be learning about you.

Following you home is the easy part. It ultimately feels chivalrous to do so once he realizes you walk home even at this time of year, when the sun sets long before the work day ends. He drifts above you, cocking his head curiously. No wonder you walk. The streets are packed as tightly as sardine cans, and your apartment garage isn’t much better. The claustrophobia of it all serves as a stark contrast to the openness of Vought tower.

The interior of your apartment provides an even sharper juxtaposition to his penthouse. It’s tidy, but the comparatively low ceilings and minimal floor space still make it look cramped. Somehow, you simultaneously have too much and yet not much at all, the confinement of a downtown apartment making what minimal affects you do own seem crowded together.

That only becomes more apparent once he’s inside, slipped in through your balcony after sleep has taken you. Why would you bother to lock your balcony when you live on the 8th floor? It works out perfectly for him.

In all fairness, your living room feels cozier once he’s standing in the center of it. Your walls are lined with an assortment of art pieces and photographs, and the shelves are well stocked with books and knick-knacks. You have a decent film collection displayed on your media console, and he can’t help but snoop through it, bending at the waist, examining through the rows. He cocks his head.

Odd. You’d think an employee of Vought would have at least a few VCU films. He runs his index finger along the spines, slightly adjusting them flush as he goes. Pursing his lips, he straightens up and looks at the closed cabinets on either side. The left one yields an untidy assortment of electronic odds and ends, cords and the like. Nothing of much interest other than an indication that while you like to keep up appearances, you aren’t quite as together as you’d like people to think.

It’s on the right side, however, he finds what he’s really looking for.

“Bingo,” he whispers, smiling to himself as he scopes out your little hidden collection of Vought hero flicks. Specifically, his films. He’s less interested in the handful of others you own (Queen Maeve: Her Majesty, Black Noir: Insurrection, Lamplighter: The Bright World, etc) and more so in the fact that you have nearly his entire catalog tucked away.

Nearly. You’re missing his eighteen part miniseries, Homelander: Brightest Night.

At least that gives him something to gift you.

Closing the cabinet, he meanders about the rest of your apartment. You have some plants in varying states of decay, with only a few cacti looking to be in decent shape. Either your work keeps you too busy to properly mind them, or you just like the idea of them more than the reality. It tells him that you’re looking–and failing–to fill a void in your life. You want to feel less alone in your home, you want to nurture something. You just haven’t found the right something yet.

Striding into your kitchen, arms folded behind his back, he peers through the cheap wood veneer of your fiberboard cupboards, unveiling an unusually broad assortment of mugs. There doesn’t seem to be any particular theme: holidays, locales, characters, and a menagerie of patterns.

He hums softly, pivoting out of the kitchen and down the hall, his steps preternaturally light. He listens for the beat of your heart as he draws near, tunes it in alongside the shallow cadence of your breath. Deep asleep. Good.

The walls are lined with pictures of you and others. Friends or family, he can’t say, but you look to have an abundance of both. He rarely sees himself in photos that aren’t promotional material. He pauses to straighten a picture frame, and finds himself so viciously jealous of the man sharing the frame with you–his lips pressed to your cheek, your laughing smile so genuine he can nearly hear it–that he almost knocks it to the ground.

Running his tongue along his teeth, he continues on.

Your bedroom door is open. He slips in silently, pausing just through the doorway. Your bed's a queen, too big for just you. You’re sprawled comfortably amidst pillows, limbs splayed in just such a way that he can easily imagine fitting himself in the empty spaces between them. He can smell the lingering burn of the candle you’d lit when you got home. He picks it up off your dresser, reading the label: Cup ‘o Joe.

Eugh. He never cared for coffee, and the artificial sweetness surrounding the note is cloying. Your perfume, on the other hand, he doesn’t mind. He notices the bottle alongside a few other of your things and puts the candle down in favor of that, popping the cap off. The smell hits him before he sprays it: vanilla first, then amber and something more woodsy. It’s less impressive by itself than it had been on you.

Still, it’s yours. You chose it for yourself.

Slipping off one of his gloves, he lightly sprays into the inside of it before he sets the bottle back down, recapping it. It won’t be the same, but he’s driven by the compulsion to spirit away any little pieces of you that he can. Just enough to satiate himself until he can have you properly.

That’s when he sees your blouse from today in a careless heap at the top of your laundry basket next to your dresser. Licking his lips, he tests the feel of the garment between his bare fingers. He’s always been sensitive to fabrics, and while the blend of this one is fairly cheap, it’s been worn and washed enough that it’s soft against his skin. He grabs a handful of it and lifts it to his mouth, brushing it along his lips, under his nose, and he deeply inhales your lingering scent mixing with the fresh pump of perfume.

He bites back a moan, screwing his eyes shut. His cock gives a dull little throb. Fuck, the spell you’ve cast on him makes him ache just for the smell of you, makes him salivate. He swallows it back, letting out a rough little breath as he reluctantly puts the shirt back down. Under it, he spies a little flash of something black and lacy. His stomach clenches, and he’s reaching for it before he can stop himself, fishing the black panties out of the heap and twisting the fabric between his fingers.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can’t afford to overindulge. He won’t be able to control himself if he does, but he also can’t bring himself to put the little slip of fabric back down. He imagines he can almost taste where your sweet cunt had been pressed to it. Christ, he’s practically drooling. Out of sheer impulse, he yanks down the zipper of his pants with a quiet hiss of metal against metal and hastily pushes your underwear into his cup, biting down hard on his lip. He grinds once against his hand, savoring the feel of the fabric against his cock.

He’ll enjoy them far more than you’ll miss them.

Zipping himself back up, he carefully pulls open your top dresser drawer. He curiously pushes the contents around, mindful not to overly disturb, and his knuckles bump something solid. He shifts one of your bras–another near painful pang of arousal at the reminder of your breasts–aside and finds, to his delight, what any good marketing department would describe as “a large purple massage wand.”

A vibrator. He chews his bottom lip briefly, turning it over in his grip. An exciting find on all fronts. It’s smooth and decently hefty, good quality. You deserve even better. You might be capable of indulging yourself with this, but he could make you scream. You’ll never need a silly little toy again. Not when you have him.

Homelander moves to put it back in the drawer, but–

“Fuck!” He hisses when the button catches on his finger, and suddenly the damn thing is buzzing.

Shut up, shut up, shut up, he chants mentally, jabbing at the buttons in an attempt to silence it, but pressing the same ones only makes the accursed device louder. In a frantic move, he grips the neck and squeezes. There’s a soft crunch beneath the silicone, and as abruptly as it had begun, the buzzing ends. His heart is thudding heavily in his chest. He listens to the silence, to you.

He looks over his shoulder. No movement. Your breaths remain shallow.

Christ.

So much for leaving no trace. He slips the busted toy back amidst your underthings and snatches his glove off of your dresser, tucking it under his arm. He hones his attention on you as he approaches your bed, assuring himself that you really are still asleep. He stands there for a while, admiring the part of your lips and the haphazard splay of your pajamas and where they cling to your body.

No bra.

His bare hand flexes. Being so close is too much of a temptation. He wets his lips with a quick slide of his tongue and bends down. He ghosts his fingers just over your cheek, not quite daring to touch. He can smell the faint remnants of your toothpaste on your breath, your shampoo, and beneath it all, you. It's intoxicating, it's…

Your brows furrow slightly in your sleep and you make a soft noise, interrupting his thoughts. He wonders if you’re dreaming–dreaming of him, perhaps. He’d like to think so. He’d like to think that you’re just as affected by him wanting you as he is, and that’s the real reason you invited him to lunch. He saw it in your eyes when he echoed your words, the thrill that went through you. He could have gone to his knees for you in that moment and had you in giving himself to you.

Desperate for just a taste, he kisses ever so gently between your brows, his own breaths matching the cadence of yours. Divine. You're divine. So effortlessly perfect and so aware of your own power. How could he not want every part of you?

He means to leave it there, to walk away with nothing but the slight salt of your brow on his lips, but the pull is too great. He's greedy, drunk on the smell and the taste of you, on the feel of your panties pressed up against his cock, and he can't stop himself from sampling your lips against his.

It’s the barest hint of touch, and yet the contact lances electricity through him like he’s been struck by a bolt of lightning. Your lips are soft, soft, soft. He knew they would be. Everything about you is so fucking soft. It takes everything in him to pull away, standing back to his full height.

He's aching, yearning so intensely he could rip the covers away and take you just like this, shake you awake, declare himself and have you. Would you scream, or would you have that same look of affronted understanding of him? You see him in a way few are ever brave–or stupid–enough to dare.

Not yet.

He won’t spoil the game. He agreed to play by your terms. As far as you’re concerned, he’ll do precisely that. You’ll be none the wiser in regards to his little reconnaissance mission–anything could have happened to your vibrator–and the two of you can play your little game as if you stand on equal footing.

Sucking in a silent breath, Homelander leaves alone, but not empty handed.

He’ll make very good use of his little trophy tonight.

#i have no self control ENJOYYYYY #praise me it's shocking i finished this so quickly #although it's not really finished bc i'm stretching it into 3 parts but #couldn't help myself i needed him to be a little weirdo #next chapter is already started tho and shouldn't take long!#ALSO I MADE THIS GIF #i'm so happy lol #my writing #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #homelander #plus size reader

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