#infinetlyforgotten

[hdiabolical]

A Mirror in Half-Light

18+ 1.5k. homelander x supe f!reader. blood, dirty talking, cunnilingus, use of telepathic powers, acts of violence mentioned (not between reader and HL)

From someone so concerned with shielding his mind, Homelander quickly comes to appreciate your telephatic powers and how useful they can be. Especially during a boring Seven meeting.

prompt sent by @infinetlyforgotten, thank you so much 🤍

When you were first introduced to the Seven, many, including your new colleagues, compared you to Mindstorm. Sure, there were some similarities—the ability to see a person’s thoughts or to project specific images. But that’s where it ended. 

The ace up to your sleeve, which distinguishes you and earned your supe name as Quickstep, is both your telepathic precognition, giving you leverage in hand to hand combat, and your crown and glory—possession. Supe or non-supes, all could have their minds hijacked by you; an ability Vought decided not to publicize. 

Your fellow partners in fighting crime knew, though; and from day one you could feel Homelander watching you with suspicion, a stare so filled with distaste your knees almost buckled. 

Seeing you in a corridor, Homelander signaled for you to approach.

“Quickstep,” he sneered, invading your personal space until he towered over you and your neck ached from looking so high up. “If I catch you using your little powers on me, be sure I’ll crack your spine. It’ll be easier than stomping on an ant. Got it?” His sudden artificial smile did nothing to lessen the weight of his words. 

Homelander was your hero, always, since childhood. Not only that, ever since you saw him for the first time, the shining blue eyes, the softness of his blonde hair, that commanding voice... You were a goner. And he most certainly knew. The disappointment almost, almost broke your heart. 

Little by little, however, with the unspoken promise you wouldn’t pry on his mind, you’d grown close. Partners in fighting crime, yeah, of course, but you had his back, no matter what. 

In one of your missions together, Homelander smeared in an innocent’s blood from head to toe, your first instinct was to help him—clean the mess. And you couldn’t lie, him in his violence and brutality did something to you. 

“Hey, you,” you murmured. “Let me help you, okay? Let me take care of it. Let me protect you.”

Surprisingly, he acquiesced. It took no more than minutes to possess the mind of some poor bystanders, having them fight and commit atrocious acts; they wouldn’t know what came over them and Vought would be too happy not to disclose. In quick action, the narrative changed; from rabid supe, to terrorist crowd. 

Later, you found yourself in his penthouse, in his bathtub, naked and cleaning the gore as he squeezed your waist. When you sealed your relationship with a bloodied kiss, you knew there was no turning back—and you loved it. Loved his quirks, his humor, his beautiful nose and soft hair, loved his flaws and all that came with it. Loved the tie that bound you forever. 

“I love you. I love you so much,” you whispered in his ear as you lay in his bed, a few hours before your meeting with the rest of the Seven. “I ache for you all the time. It overflows, sometimes.” You giggled, remembering when your desire burned you so passionately, so intensely, your mind had one focal point: Homelander and what he could do to your body. Without realizing, all your wants and needs were suddenly projected on his mind.

In the first time, you were fearful he’d throw a fit, but he simply grinned devilish at you. 

“Wow,” he laughed. “If I’d known more about your dirty little mind I would have put it to use a long time ago, babe.” 

After that, it became a fixture, in bed, in daily moments where voicing your thoughts wasn’t an option, or in missions when silent communication was useful. And bit by bit, he delighted in it, veritable proof of your devotion and love.

As it were, in this stolen moment, cuddled in his bed, he answered. “And I love you, my darling, My own mirror.” He nuzzled your neck. “No need to scream in my mind, I’m gonna eat your pretty pussy until you beg me to stop.” 

“I’d never,” you said breathily. 

Slowly kissing from your collarbone, to your stomach and thighs, mischievously looking you in the eye as he bit and kissed and licked everywhere around your cunt. His strength was enough to keep you in the exact place he wanted. Such a delicious torture. 

Finally he turned his attention to your clit, dragging his tongue over it in elaborate patterns—he was relentless, and you both moaned at the contact. You were loud, thrashing and screaming at the slightest touch, but only for him. He played your body perfectly. 

Your hands found his hair, soft to the touch, and yanked, wanting him closer and he groaned—the vibrations going straight to your core. Soon he started tongue-fucking, just as you liked it, going deep and slow, alternating to trace your slit from your asshole to your clit; not one part of you ignored. 

“Fuck, you taste so good. You’re fucking made for me, your pussy is mine, mine, understand that?”

“It’s yours! It’s all yours. Please, Homelander, please—”

“Please what?”

“Let me come, let me come in your mouth, I want to feel you.” It was all too much, the mess his tongue made, the wetness running down your pussy and dripping in the mattress.

Moaning, he plunged two fingers deep inside you, as he squeezed your ass, bringing you even closer. You cried from the pleasure he woke in you, and even in this madness you caressed his hair, closing your legs until he was in the position you liked most: with a perfect view of his face, his soft locks, his bright eyes. 

He smirked, squeezing you tighter, until you no longer touched the bed, and he slapped your ass so hard your whole body trembled. 

“Like that, princess? Like when I do whatever the fuck I want with your sweet body? Now show me. Show me what you want.” 

You complied instantly. 

You imagined him feasting on your pussy, licking it all until his spit and your slick became one and the same. His fingers marking your ass, your thighs; biting so deeply even your invulnerable skin would cleave to his superior strength. You wanted his tongue deep inside you, for yours on end, fucking your pussy so good your legs would spasm and you would scream for all the Tower to hear, pussy clenching just the way he liked. You wanted it all—Homelander slurping on your clit and swirling his tongue, making you squirt and swallowing it all, leaving his chin a beautiful fucking mess. 

In the aftermath, body boneless and exhausted, you wanted his fingers, for him to drag it all over your juices and make you swallow and gag on it. Then, in a little tenderness, he'd give you a breathtaking kiss, further proof of your intimate lovemaking. 

As you projected all of this on his mind, his smile grew bigger, more wicked. And you knew he'd deliver it, or even more. 

“You really are such a slut.” You giggled; it was all in the game.

Later on, as all the Seven were debating their latest terrorist attack, and what plan they'd need to put in action, all you could think was Homelander. His hands on you, his tongue lapping at your clit and his disheveled hair—which, you noticed, he didn't fix for the meeting. It wasn't fair, he was too mean at taunting you.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him and he knew. Flashes of your morning together ran through your mind. No matter how satisfied you'd been, you wanted more, again, all the time. You wanted his kisses and devastation, his head between your legs and his mouth both teasing and giving you the most world-shattering pleasure. 

You wanted to caress his hair, your newfound obsession, while he fucked you, hiting that sweet spot and filling you up with his come.

In your daydreams, you tuned out from the conversation, and like being burned you found Homelander staring straight at you, an expression oh so familiar. Unintentionally he'd become the spectator of your fantasies. 

Rising from his chair so quickly you barely caught it, Homelander said, “That's enough for today. I have other things to take care of. Quickstep, you stay.”

Whispers of complaint were quickly shut down, as Homelander glared at them until each and everyone left the room.

“Well, well, seems like someone is still wantin' for more.”

He laid his hands on your chair, then turned it so you were face to face. 

“I couldn't help it,” you smirked. “I can't get enough.”

“But that's not fair, don't you think?" He clucked his tongue. "It's your turn to please me.” He pulled you from the chair, and manhandled you until you fell to your knees with a thud. “Now, princess, get to work.”

#homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander fanfiction #the boys #the boys amazon #the boys x you #the boys x reader #requests #my writing #smut #infinetlyforgotten

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

The Sweetest Thing

Roy Kent x Teacher!Reader

Warnings: Language

0.5k words

Teach Me Tonight Masterlist

“Did you hear me?”

“Hmm?”

“I said, what flavor d’you want?”

Damn. You’d been caught staring at Roy Kent- again. You had to be imagining the softness that appeared in his brown eyes as he gazed at you, waiting for you to pick what kind of ice cream you wanted.

Averting your eyes to the ice cream display, you cleared your throat. “Um, chocolate I guess?”

His smirk was full of teasing. “You guess?”

“Chocolate,” you confirmed with a chuckle.

That smile- that stupid, wonderful smile- had you making emergency lesson plans in your head, because surely you’d need at least a week to recover from it. He quickly ordered three ice creams, waving your hand away gingerly when you tried to slip him a few quid. It had to be an accident when his fingers brushed yours- right?

Needing a moment to collect yourself, you excused yourself to go wash your hands once the three of you found a small outside table, leaving Roy alone with a suspiciously quiet Phoebe.

“Oi.” He hooked a finger around her little ice cream bowl and tugged it away from her now pouting face. “Tell me the fucking truth. Why’d your mum tell you to invite your teacher to our practice?”

“Well,” Phoebe started slowly, eyes zeroed in on her treat. “She said it would be a nice thing to do. And, well…” Her gaze flickered to her uncle. “She also said she wanted me to tell her all about the look on your face when she showed up.”

Roy’s cheeks were on fire; he was going to fucking murder his sister. “And what face did I make?”

His niece looked thoughtful. “Well, you looked surprised. A little nervous. And sort of happy.” Her face turned mischievous. “Mum says you fancy-”

“Did you uncle really steal your ice cream, Pheebs?”

As you took the seat next to him, Roy slid the little bowl back towards the little traitor, his heart quickening at the sound of your teasing. “If you’d been gone another minute, yours would’ve been next,” he joked, feeling his entire body soften when he realized how close you were.

With a playful eyeroll that surprised you, you smiled at Phoebe. “So, Pheobe, did you tell your uncle about how you did on last week’s spelling test?”

The three of you dove into easy conversation- about school, football, Phoebe’s friends. It felt wonderfully natural, eating ice cream with Roy Kent and his niece, as if the three of you hung out all the time. The relaxed way he looked at you, the way he made you and Phoebe laugh, hell, even the way he held out his bowl so you could try a bit of his cinnamon-vanilla ice cream, all of it made you forget that he was a famous footballer; it was almost as if he could be any student’s handsome, funny, kind uncle who you had an ever-growing crush on.

By the time the three of you walked back to the school parking lot and the uncle-niece duo wished you a good rest of your weekend- with Roy thanking you for joining them- you finally admitted the embarrassing, thrilling truth to yourself: You were positively, absolutely, undeniably smitten with Roy fucking Kent.

Taglist:@infinetlyforgotten @gothicwidowsworld@taytaylala12@amieinghigh@klaine-92@misshall14@rosesheerio@goose-101 @gee72sstuff @alainabooks143@lwritesstuff@hayden-maximoff @optimisticsandwichgladiator @veryprairieberry @scott-mccall-could-lift-mjolnir @jaymum@shakespeareanwannabe @axelsagewrites @kidd3ath @brainscabs @v-nest @just35yrsandtrying

#roy kent teach me tonight #roy kent x teacher!reader #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent fluff #ted lasso fanfiction #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Tricks & Treats

A little Halloween blurb featuring Roy & Bucky! Takes place after the events of Something There, so spoilers for chapters 11 & 12 I guess? Thank you to @infinetlyforgotten for helping inspire the idea!

0.9k words Warnings: Flirting & teasing, language, some oral (f receiving)

Something There Masterlist

“Come on, Bucky!”

I laughed and leaned down to link my arm with Pheobe’s. “I don’t remember Dorothy and the Wicked Witch skipping together in the movie,” I joked to the little green girl. I glanced over my shoulder. “Do you, Scarecrow?”

Roy scowled at me, his grim face nothing short of comical with the straw-filled pointy hat and painted face he’d let me put on him earlier that evening. But when I raised my eyebrows at him, he let out a heaving sigh and linked up on Phoebe’s other side. Together, the three of us strolled arm in arm to the next house, where Roy and I watched Phoebe hustle up to the door to get her candy.

I leaned close to Roy and wrapped an arm around his middle. “Having fun?”

His eyes trailed down my blue-and-white checkered dress. “Do we really have to go to the party after this?” he grumbled. “I just want to go home and wipe this shit off my face.”

“Roy,” I cooed mockingly, giving him a squeeze. “Don’t you want to see adorable Dorothy become grown-up Dorothy for the party tonight?” I wiggled my foot at him. “The ruby slippers are going to turn into red stilettos. Gonna need someone to carry me home once they kill my ankle.”

The corner of his mouth ticked upwards, mimicking his raised eyebrows. “One hour. Then it’s no fucking place like home, got it?”

Once Phoebe was satisfied with her haul and had been dropped off with her mom, we quickly stopped to freshen up before Keeley’s annual Halloween bash. I changed into the shoes I’d been teasing Roy about and switched out the knee-length pinafore I’d been wearing for one that stopped midway down my thighs.

Roy raised his eyebrows at me when I found him waiting in the living room. “That’s so fucking unfair, babe,” he groaned, brown eyes raking over my body. “You sure we have to go to this shit?”

Smirking at the exact reaction I’d been hoping for, I grabbed his hand and dragged him to the door. “Let’s go, Kent.”

To no one’s surprise, Keeley’s party was a real rager. The club she was hosting it at was packed with people- Greyhounds, Whippets, celebrities, friends. We wandered around, Roy’s hand on my lower back, greeting familiar faces over the pulsing music. Roy managed to grab us a couple of drinks, which I convinced him to bring to the dance floor; ever since our first date, there one where he took me back to the club we’d met at, I loved getting Roy to dance whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Despite his good-natured eyerolls, Roy leaned close to me as we danced, letting his hand wander a bit more than was appropriate in public. But, between the alcohol and the music and his warm touch, I didn’t care one bit. I pressed my back to him, closing my eyes with a smirk as we moved to the music. I knew by the way Roy grinded against me that he’d make me pay for all this torture.

Sure enough, exactly sixty minutes after our arrival, Roy interlocked his fingers with mine.

“Hour’s up, Coach,” he hummed.

Roy liked to drive fast in that big, stupid car of his. And it was especially true tonight as he nearly ran a few red lights and treated the speed limits like suggestions. The entire time, his hand gripped my thigh, fingers digging into my skin. His jaw was set, gaze straight ahead, looking more like he was preparing to enter a championship game than just driving home with his girlfriend.

“Roy!” I squeaked as he nearly yanked me out of the car once he’d parked.

With his hand firmly on my ass, he practically sprinted to the front door. He unlocked it in record time and slammed it behind him. Relief crossed his face for a fraction of a moment before being replaced with pure lust and desire.

“So fucking mean,” he growled, pressing my back to the wall by the front door. “Wearing that fucking dress, dancing with me the way you did.” His mouth found my neck. “What did I do to deserve that, Buck?”

Despite the fire that was starting to spread over my skin, I rolled my eyes in annoyance. “Don’t call me Buck, Kent.”

His breathy chuckle tickled my neck. “Sorry, darling.” His hands wandered up and down my sides, gripping the blue and white material. “Just looked so fucking good tonight. Forgot my fucking manners.”

When his fingertips grazed the bare skin of my thighs, I let out a deep sigh. “Bedroom?”

To my surprise, Roy shook his head. “Can’t fucking wait that long.”

In an instant, Roy was on his knees in front of me, tugging my already short skirt up to reveal the red lace I’d put on with him in mind. He groaned when he saw the material, reaching out to press one finger to the damp spot he’d caused. Without warning, he lifted my leg- the one with the shit ankle- over his shoulder, leaving me attempting to balance on one stiletto. As if he knew I needed help, he tightened his grip on my hips before pressing his mouth to my clothed heat.

“Fuck!” I gasped as my hips instantly jerked against his face. “Shit, Roy-” With a blissful sigh, I threw my head back, gripping his curly hair tight.

His tongue tugged the material aside, exposing my cunt to his hot breath. “Hello, gorgeous,” he hummed, planting a deep kiss to my pussy lips. “My little Halloween treat.”

#roy kent something there #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine