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stevesbestgirl · 5 days
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Hear me out! How about Mafia Steve rogers having hate sex with reader because they were having an argument and reader had attitude. He fucks her like i need to dicipline you, you little brat and she is calling him daddy.
I'm Bored! // Mafia!Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader
A/N: Thank you for the request! ♥ I hope you like this!
Side Note: This isn't a part of the mafia!stucky universe, just wanted to clarify that lol
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, dom/sub, rough sex, spanking, ripping clothes, degradation, praise kink, size kink (!), desk sex, creampie, edging, overstimulation, daddy kink, pretty behaviour, slight misogyny/stereotypes, hairpulling, fingering, exhibitionism, slight subspace
Words: 2.6k
my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link
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“I know what you’re doing”. Steve slammed his phone onto the desk as his nostrils flared, eyes glaring with an intensity that any sane person would have backed away with their head lowered in submission.
It seemed you had a death wish today as you smirked and continued to piss him off, wanting the exact reaction you were receiving from your Mafia boyfriend. Stomping your foot and clenching your fists, you continued in a shrill, high-pitched tone for an added effect that you knew would drive him into the depths of mental hell. ”I’m not doing anything! I just feel so trapped in this stupid box of an office!”
As you so politely described, this stupid box of an office was an executive suite in one of the skyscrapers that towered over Brooklyn that he could view from the ceiling-to-floor windows. The office had to be the biggest in the building, with enough space for his desk, sitting area, kitchen and a vastly sized table to fit at least 15 people for meetings specified for the mafia boss.
And yet, here you were, moaning about the size, knowing that there was nothing more extravagant or luxurious than his office. In your defence, it had been a long day of being out of the office, as Steve had to travel for hours across his city to check the quality of stolen goods and meet with many influential people with the hopes of selling said stolen items. It hadn’t been a particularly trying day for the most part, but you quickly became bored, especially as you had to remain quiet during these meetings.
From an outsider's perspective, you were meant to be the pretty timid girlfriend of the mafia boss. His eye candy. There to hang on his arm and warm his lap and nothing more. In reality, he had wanted you there so that you could be more involved in the gang, understand how the meetings work, and contribute to decisions once back to the office if you deemed the people trustworthy enough to work with.
The staying quiet aspect of your role was also just for your safety. If you talked, that was an open invitation for the powerful individuals to talk back, and you weren’t ready to be involved in those sorts of conversations just yet. Therefore, you were more than happy to remain Steve's silent, pretty girlfriend.
Today, however, you were feeling antsy from the lack of talking, stiff from sitting for so long and needy for something a little more exciting than hand-holding or sitting on his lap. Especially now you were in the comfort of the office and could really rile Steve up. Maybe you were being a brat, but you were so bored and frustrated you wanted to get your heart pounding and some sort of relief, so pissing Steve off was the best option for this.
“Stop trying to take your clothes off-! Fucks sake. Everyone out!” Steve ordered the guards stationed by the door, and they promptly followed his directions as they left with a slam of the door.
You pause, with one of the straps of your dress halfway down your arm, turning to face him directly with a wicked smile on your face. Oh, he was pissed, verging on genuinely being angry with the way the vein on his neck was bulging and throbbing.
“I hate when you get like this. We were having a nice fucking day, too”, he demands whilst beginning to remove his tie and jacket. You knew he didn’t mean it; he always loved being able to dominate you just as much as you loved being an irritating brat and getting on his last nerve.
Your cunt pulses in desire watching him closely, eyes blazing with excitement as you bite your lower lip to try and hide the unmistakable grin. “Was it a nice day for me or for you, Steve? Because it’s been a boring day for me. All I’ve been doing for hours is standing there and looking pretty. Do you know how boring that is? I want to live a little! My clothes feel too tight, too claustrophobic. I want to be free!”
Steve doesn’t say anything, but he does glare as he begins to undo the cuffs of his white shirt, rolling up the sleeves to reveal the muscular forearms beneath. It was only as he rounded his desk that you began to back up, taking a quick step backwards, but they were no match to the giant strides of his long legs as he was in front of you in a matter of seconds. His chest bumped into yours, forcing you to continue backwards until your back was flush against the cool glass windows.
Steve towered above you, even with your black heels adding a few inches to your height; he always seemed to be a gargantuan man, adding warmth to your core. Looking up at his glaring face through your lashes and biting your lip, trying to look as innocent as possible.
“Think you’re being cute by acting like this? Like a brat with all that attitude?” he snaps, reaching up to wrap his massive hand around your throat, not squeezing as such but just so that you stayed still and he could feel the thump of your racing heartbeat beneath his fingertips.
“I think I’ve got the response that I wanted, so yes, I think I am being cute”, you say confidently whilst reaching for the bulge in his slacks to show just how turned on he was, squeezing it tightly and making it throb.
Steve’s eyes drop to your hand as he subtly thrusts into your palm, but as he looks back towards your face, you know he has something planned as it is his turn to smirk. “You said your clothes felt tight. Well, let’s change that Princess”.
The hand around your neck lowers to your hip, turning you around so your front is pressed against the window, forced to look out over the city of Brooklyn. Before you could even look over your shoulder to see what was next, your body was shaken as Steve gripped the left and right side of your dress and pulled, effortlessly ripping the red dress down the zip so it fell from your body. You were left in only your thong and heels, wholly exposed to the city below.
Steve’s hand is then suddenly in your hair, pulling your head back against his shoulder and forcing your chest to push up, your nipples perking from being pressed against the startingly cold glass.
“Does this make you feel any more free? You know I love it when people watch me touch you. Well, now we’ve got the whole city watching Princess”, Steve whispers as he runs his nose down your neck.
You shiver as he nudges the sensitive spot just below your ear, “Yes, Steve-”.
The hand in your hair tightens, “Excuse me?”
“Daddy”, you correct yourself quickly, “Yes, Daddy, thank you for making me feel more free and showing me off to everyone”.
He hums to himself, “I think it’s about time I should how to be more grateful and show a little less of this attitude you seem to have”.
“Yes, Daddy”, you say submissively, mind reeling with the anticipation and thrill of what's to come.
“Count for me and safe words to be used if needed”, he mentioned before continuing.
With one hair remaining in your hair, he presses your face against the window, not hard enough for it to hurt but also to make sure that you keep it in place. His other hand pulled back on your hips, perking your arse out for him. You were only vaguely aware of his plan as you heard the swatting of his hand through the air before the stinging impact as he spanked your arse cheek.
You jumped at the contact, but he always started light, not wishing to actually cause you harm and so that you could make it through the usual ten counts before checking in.
“One, thank you, Daddy”, you say sweetly, watching the glass in front of you fog up at your heated breath. With each spank, you made sure to count and thank him. Even though you’d been a brat, when he finally did snap like he was now, you were always on your best behaviour, taking whatever punishment he deemed necessary.
His palm connected with both of your cheeks, ensuring they both had equal attention and that the areas were hot to the touch and somewhat sore but not enough to bruise. You enjoyed the rough treatment so much that you were rolling your hips into his palm, feeling the wetness coating your thong and spreading over your labia.
“Ten, thank you, Daddy”, you softly say, your eyes closed and feeling the world becoming fuzzy around the edges as the mixture of pleasure and pain caused the hormones in your head to feel like you were experiencing your own personal high.
This was the reason why you always enjoyed pissing him off with a little bit of attitude and bratty behaviour; being drawn into a subspace mentally from the punishments was like a drug to you, one that Steve was more than happy to pull you into.
Overwhelming pleasure suddenly burst through your burning core as Steve pulled your thong string to the side and shoved two thick digits into your pussy, stretching you thoroughly.
“You’re so wet, such a desperate little slut aren’t you” he taunts whilst rocking his fingers in and out, stretching them every so often to prepare you for what you really want.
You stick out your bottom lip in a pout whilst rolling your hips in time with his fingers as you whine, “Only your slut though, Daddy”.
Steve kisses your naked shoulder, showing some sort of soft intimacy, “That’s right, you’re just my little slut. Now how about you show me just how good you are for me and go and bend over my desk and spread your legs”.
The hand in your hair loosens enough that you can wiggle free and stumble over to the desk, kicking off the heels as if they were not helping the wobbly sensations in your legs. Steve was one step behind and reached around you to shove the papers cluttering his desk off and onto the floor. With the extra space, you could happily bend forward, resting your chest on the desk and widening your stance as Steve begins to unbuckle his belt.
Watching over your shoulder, you admired the lustful gaze of his bright ocean-blue eyes, the drag of his tongue along his bottom lip as he looked as if he wanted to eat you right then and there.
“Do you like what you see?” you asked whilst wiggling your hips invitingly to him.
Steve tries and fails to hide the smirk on his face. Reaching forward, he rubs with each of your arse cheeks, squeezing the sore areas until your mewling and begging for something more. As he stepped closer and continued to hold the string of your thong to the side, he looked you directly in the eyes as he spoke lowly, “I just want you to remember that you wanted me to get this riled up with that smart mouth of yours. Acting bratty has its consequences”.
Opening your mouth to try and sass him another way, all that came out was an exaggeratedly obscene moan, your eyes rolling back as Steve’s cock thrust deep within your cunt in one mighty thrust. The movement caused you to rock onto your tiptoes, having to push further onto the desk as the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix, filling you completely. The warm, wet walls of your pussy fluttered and squeezed around the penetration, trying to milk him already, clinging to him within an inch of your life.
Your fingers wrap around the edge of the desk above your head, holding on to it as Steve withdraws. Half of the length inside of you retreated, only to slam back into you, causing your hips to bump into the table with the strength put behind the movement.
“Faster”, you demand as your forehead rests on the rest, eyes closing to focus on the overwhelming pressure in your core.
However, the sassy tone you used was not appreciated by the man nearly splitting you in half with his cock as his hand once again delved into your hair to pull your head back, causing a startled scream to replace the moans.
“You don’t get to decide how fast I fuck you, Princess”.
With your head pulled back in this position, you were now having to stare at the wall behind his desk, which had a narcissistic painting of him, given to him as a joke by one of his employees. Now, however, to your delight, you were able to stare up at his handsome face as he fucked you with deep, tauntingly slow thrusts.
With this pace, you could feel every single inch dragging along your sensitive walls, causing them to spasm and tighten on instincts rather than just taking a quick hard fuck that left you forgetting to breathe and seeing stares. The way Steve currently had you was more overstimulating and had your breaths coming out in short huffs.
Steve, it seemed, knew every little moan and hitch of breath that your body took, understood at which degree of tightness your cunt squeezed him in with just how close you were to orgasm. His hips stopped thrusting as you could have sobbed as that beautiful sensation faded into a light buzz rather than an overwhelming euphoria.
“Please- Please Daddy, I…I… I’m sorry for my attitude, Daddy” You managed to find the right words, internally praising yourself for coherently saying what Steve wanted to say as currently, the only words running through your mind were, ‘fuck me harder, Daddy’.
“That’s all I wanted you to say, Princess”, he praises lightly as one hand remains holding onto your hair and the other slips between the desk and your mound so that two of his fingers can massage your clit.
The burst of fire that pulsed through you was powerful, knees wobbling and whines turning into incoherent begs of the word ‘yes!” as Steve finally began to fuck you at the fast pace you’d been hoping for.
You came so quickly that the breath rushed from your body, and you became light-headed from the overstimulation. He doesn’t stop, though; he just continues to hold you in place, fucking you and playing with your clit until you came a second time.
Thankfully, Steve did too, grunting desperately as his hips snapped up one more time, and wetness came flooding out of your cunt as his seed seeped out and down your thighs. Carefully, he removed his fingers from your sensitive bundle of nerves and gently rested your face on the desk whilst massaging your scalp and kissing along the back of your shoulder blade.
As he moved up towards your neck, you sighed in contentment, turning your face to the side so that he could gently kiss your cheek and you could reach around to run your fingers through his short, blond hair.
“Get your frustrations out?” he asks quietly and softly into your ear.
Nodding your head, you blink tiredly back at him, “Yes, thank you. But now, I have no clothes, and I can’t walk”.
Steve chuckles against your skin, a beautiful sound that has your toes curling again, “Well, I did warn you”.
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stevesbestgirl · 28 days
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imagine being hired by vought to be a sort of housekeeper to homelander, doing his laundry and cooking for him in his penthouse. he’d immediately grow to love having someone to come home to, and would automatically slip into husband mode whenever he finds them doing him some wifely act of service (conveniently ignoring the fact they’re paid to be there, of course)
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Working for Vought, specifically Homelander, turns out to be an insanely simple gig. Typically, you never even see him. You're free to do your cleaning in peace, picking up after America's favorite hero. He rarely ever leaves a mess, but there's enough to keep you employed. Tidying up his towels, replacing his hygiene supplies and tooth brushes. You're trained specifically on how to clean his suits. You empty and stock the fridge. He goes through a lot of milk. You always make sure to get whole. He lodged a complaint the one time it was less than. You were told initially that your cooking services wouldn't be necessary. Homelander isn't known to be, well... much of an eater.
Still, you didn't want the food you stocked at the start to go bad, so one day you prepare a few meals and put them in containers in the fridge. You include little notes with instructions on how they should be reheated. You sign each one with a little heart simply because that's how you've always done it, and pin them to the fridge. You think nothing of it. Homelander is dumbstruck by it.
At first he's affronted that you would leave him cold food in his fridge and expect him to heat it up for himself, but there's something distinctly... loving about it. Coming home to his laundry clean and his shelves dusted never felt like that. It was nothing more than a reset, an automatic process that he didn't dedicate any thought to. But this? This is personal. This reminds him that a living, breathing person was in his home, tending to it, and that person... cooked him a meal, and left him a little note. With a heart.
The next morning you get a text that you will indeed be cooking for Homelander that evening! You're in the midst of it, staying later than you usually do, when he walks in the door. You aren't making anything fancy, just steak and mashed potatoes, but he sucks in a breath like he's inhaling the scent of a gourmet meal. His smile is broad and gleaming. It makes your heart skip a beat.
To your surprise, he introduces himself. He shakes your hand firmly, and holds your stare as you remember your manners and manage to spit out your own name. "Charmed," he says through that radiant smile, and you feel like he means it. His eyes are somehow much bluer in person. His gaze flickers to the stove, and he clicks his tongue. "Not to question your craft, but is this really enough for two?" Looking at the steak currently searing, you falter. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you having company? No one told me." "Well of course I'm having company, you silly goose. You're standing right here, aren't you?" He asks, putting his hands on his hips. It's cheesy, like a moment straight out of a sitcom, but you fluster anyways. This man has such presence to him.
"You... want me to eat with you?" You ask, bewildered.
"Be a shame to cook up a storm and not even feel the rain," he laughs, as if you're the one thinking strangely here. He's already gone to the fridge, and pulled out a second steak. He offers it out to you with that same charming television ready grin. "C'mon. I can hear your stomach growling."
Tentatively, you take the package from him. "Okay."
That night, and each night that follows, you cook Homelander a meal at the tail-end of your shift, and sit down to eat with him. It's surreal, but after the second night, it occurs to you that you've never once seen sign of him having company. There's never extra dishes, or towels. No remnants of a party in the trash. If he does have friends, they're certainly never here.
You can't help but wonder if he's lonely. The thought humanizes him from the larger than life image you had of him in your mind, and you have an easier and easier time engaging him in conversation. He's funny, if not a little strange. There are times when you don't really know how to respond to the things he says, but he often moves on quickly enough to keep things from being awkward.
Truth be told, you're starting to quite enjoy his company.
Homelander begins showing up earlier and earlier into your shifts. The next week, it's barely after 4:00pm when he strides through the door, greeting you with a chipper, "Heya!" and a little salute.
You turn off the vacuum, and despite being a little caught off guard, you smile at him. For the first time, you say, "Welcome home!"
For a second, you worry you've said something wrong. That smile slips off his face, and he stands frozen a touch too long in the doorway. However, before you can add an amendment, his lips stretch back out and he closes the door behind him. "Good to be home," he says. There's less of that showmanship in his voice, you think.
"I didn't know you'd be home so early, I haven't finished-" "Oh, don't mind me, you do your thing. Pretend I'm not even here," he insists, taking a seat on his couch.
You expect him to occupy himself in some way. A book, perhaps, or even just his cellphone. Instead, for the next hour you're keenly aware of the fact the only thing he seems to be entertaining himself with is you.
After that, you cook dinner as usual, and the two of you eat amidst pleasant, casual conversation. It's the same as any other night, and yet somehow this evening feels distinctly different. You can't name exactly what it is, but something has changed.
Homelander begins filling out your time with new requests; he's suddenly become quite fascinated with plants. You had mentioned to him before that you like to keep them, despite the work they take. Your shifts grow longer to account for your new tasks.
All the while, he's been more and more present during your shifts. Although he doesn't directly take or distract you from your chores, you're always keenly aware of of his gaze on you while you work. You try not to overthink it, but the weight of his attention is heavy nonetheless.
One day, you're sweeping up a mess of spilled dirt, struggling to maneuver around the legs of a piece of furniture, when Homelander hops up to intervene. "Let me get that for you, sweetheart," he says, lifting the entire cabinet up as if it weighed nothing at all.
You lose yourself for a moment, standing dumbfounded before abruptly remembering to sweep the dirt out from under it, your heart racing. Your mind keeps replaying the pet name, and with every echo of it, your cheeks feel redder. Homelander smiles, watching you all the while. The next day, you arrive to find an enormous bouquet of roses sitting in a vase on the kitchen counter. There's a note with your name on it, and a simple message: Thanks for all your hard work. Keep it up! The note is signed with Homelander's sprawling signature. Smiling widely to yourself, you tuck the note into your pocket, and lean in to inhale the sweet smell of the flowers. On another occasion, it's time to clean the blades of the ceiling fan in his room, but you can't find that darn step ladder anywhere. Homelander must hear the way you're shuffling around and muttering under your breath—you swear the man hears everything—because he steps in to check on you. "Everything alright in here?" He asks, peeking in from the doorway. "Oh, fine, fine, I just can't find my step ladder anywhere. Have you seen it?" You ask, feeling flustered. Getting put behind schedule never fails to trip a thread of anxiety in your chest. "Can't say I have," he answers, stepping inside. He looks around the room. "What'cha need it for?" "Ceiling fan. Uhm, it's okay, I'll get to it later, if that's alright with you? I'm sorry, I could have sworn I left that ladder-" You stop yourself, realizing Homelander is suddenly striding directly towards you. Uncertain, you begin to take a step back, but he's fast. He puts an arm around you, and without warning you're being hoisted up into his arms as easily as a doll.
"Up y'go," he says, supporting not only your weight with ease, but resting you snug against his chest. You squeeze your knees together, arms pulled in tight, as if making yourself tiny will somehow protect you from the embarrassing quicken of your breath, or the rampant beat of your heart. "There you go. Who needs a step ladder when you've got me?" He asks, grinning down at you with that familiar dazzling spread of pearly whites. His smile feels better suited to a Hollywood audience than this quiet little moment, but the only thing you can really focus on is the fresh, woodsy smell of his cologne. "Uhm, I-I still don't think I can reach-" You stop, noticing the ceiling fan is now within arms reach. "Oh." Looking down, your eyes widen. Neither of your feet are touching the ground. Instead, Homelander is hovering well above it, holding you adjacent to the fan. You can't help the nervous laughter that suddenly bubbles out of you. "Oh my god," you laugh, looking around. "You're flying!" "As I'm known to do from time to time," he says, voice dripping with satisfaction. His gloved fingers tap absently at your waist, basking in your awe over what is, to him, a wholly unremarkable feat. The sheer normalcy of you makes his every move seem a marvel. He savors your wonder. You're so enamored with the novelty of it, you remember belatedly why you're up here. Clearing your throat, you reach up with the duster, and gently spin the fan, collecting the strands of dust and the like that had gathered on each one. You try your damnedest to focus on that, and not the fact Homelander's face is less than a foot from yours. Out of your peripheral, you can see that his grin has softened into a content, absent smile. Your stomach does cartwheels as you finish dusting the fan, bringing the duster back down. You clear your throat again, pretending it's not a nervous habit. "All done, thank you," you say quietly, smiling back at him.
"Any time, sweetheart," Homelander purrs. There it is again, that coy little nickname that sends your mind into a tizzy. As if that weren't bad enough, he winks at you, floating gently back down to the ground. Your legs feel so much like jelly, you worry you'll collapse the moment you're on your feet. Luckily, even once he's set you down, he leaves a hand lingering on your back. "You got a thing with heights? Your heart's pounding," he points out, much to your mortification. You try to laugh it off. "Oh, no! No, just wasn't expecting it. I'm fine with heights," you say, fumbling with the duster for a second before slipping it back into the cover. "Good," Homelander responds, an oddly cryptic depth to his tone. His smile lingers. "That's good. Alrighty, I'll leave you to it," he says, tipping his head in a polite little nod before he heads for the door, leaving you to your own devices, and the rapid fluttering in your stomach. Later that same day, you're thoroughly perplexed when you spot the step ladder exactly where it's supposed to be, certain you had checked there a dozen times over.
Two weeks from the day you first shared a meal, he presents you with a gift after dinner. "Oh, sir, you shouldn't-" "Please, please! Don't be so formal. It's just a little thing," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Y'know, to show my appreciation. You take such good care of me. Just wanted to return the favor." Butterflies swarm rampant in your gut as you tug loose the pretty red ribbon tied around the box. Uncertain of what to expect, you feel a measure of relief when you lift the lid, and see a lovely apron folded inside it. "You wear this print a lot, figured you could use something, you know, matchy. Feminine," he says, gesturing vaguely with his hand. "Your other one's seen better days."
You exhale a soft laugh, touching the fabric. It's soft beneath your fingers, and of excellent quality. The gift is a thoughtful one, and it feels appropriate, despite what the expensive looking wrapping made you think. "You like it?" He asks after a beat, snapping you out of your thoughts. "I do! Yes, thank you. It's very nice. I've enjoyed working for you, sir—" You stop when he points a finger at you, his brows raised, and you correct, "—Homelander." He smiles, dropping his hand. "And eating with you. I can't say any of my other clients cared whether or not I ate," you say, chuckling. You think you see his nose twitch strangely at the mention of your other clients.
"Right, well! C'mon, let's see how it looks," he says, taking you by the shoulders and guiding you over to the mirror near the floor to ceiling windows that overlook the city. Homelander takes the box from your hands and presents it to you, allowing you to lift the apron up and let it unfold. Odd, it feels a touch heavier than you expected. You sling it around your neck, but before you can reach back to tie it, Homelander has taken it upon himself to do it for you. He cinches it at your waist with a sharp little tug, grinning at you from over your shoulder as he meets your eye in the mirror. "Loooook at that, perfect fit," he purrs, tying the ends off. "It's beautiful, thank y—" Smoothing your hands down the front of it, you stop. There's something in the right pocket of the apron. Glancing up, Homelander has a mischievous glint to his expression, but his brows raise, and his lips curl down. He's playing dumb.
Curiously, you slip your hand into the pocket, and feel smooth velvet against your fingers. Wrapping your hand around a firm rectangle, you draw it out, and feel your stomach flip as you stare at the distinctly luxurious looking black box now in your hands. "Oh, geeze, totally forgot that was even in there," Homelander says. His tone is terribly unconvincing, but he does sound very pleased with himself. "Whelp, you've already accepted, so I guess it's yours now." "I—" "Go on," he urges, giving your shoulders a little shake. He's watching you eagerly through the mirror. "Open it up. It's all yours."
Swallowing, you crack the box back on it's hinges. Your jaw drops, your chest tightens. You stare at the shimmering three-stone drop diamond necklace in utter disbelief. You don't even feel Homelander let go of your shoulders, or hear him slide off and drop his gloves to the nearby table. "Oh my god," you whisper. You probably couldn't afford the box this thing was sold in, let alone a single stone on it. "I don't think I can accept this, sir," you say, slipping back into the habit of formality as your brain struggles to catch up to reality.
"Oop, too late for that," Homelander dismisses, plucking the delicate necklace up from the fabric it lay in. "Here, allow me," he says, ignoring your shellshock while he drapes the necklace against your skin, his bare fingers brushing the back of your neck as he gets it fastened.
Breathless, you tentatively touch the bottom diamond. Your mouth feels full of cotton, and your heart is racing. Is this really happening?
Meanwhile, Homelander grips your upper arms, beaming. "Look at you. You know what they say about diamonds; they're a girl's best friend," he laughs, those canines of his looking sharper than ever.
Giving your arms a squeeze, Homelander leans close to your ear. "Happy two weeks," he whispers, the heat of his breath on your neck prickling goosebumps all the way down your spine. "Thank you," you whisper back, pushing out a bewildered little smile.
Homelander lingers there a moment, the warmth of his hands on your arms seeping through the fabric of your shirt. His smile has relaxed some, and his gaze is slightly distant as he looks you up and down in the mirror. You see a flash of pink as he wets his bottom lip with his tongue. It isn't until you clear your throat that his eyes snap back up to yours, regaining presence of mind. "I should get going," you say gently. His fingers flex on your arms, and the corners of his mouth twitch. "Right," he says, lips pulling into a thin smile that doesn't reach his eyes. This is always his least favorite part of the night. With obvious reluctance, he drops his hands from your arms. "Right, ah, let me—" "Unless..." You interject, turning to face him. Homelander's brows shoot up to his hairline. He blinks. "Unless...?" "Unless you'd like me to stay," you say quietly, your stomach tying itself in knots. "Not as your housekeeper, but maybe as just... Company?"
"Company," he echoes, his parted lips slowly drawing into a smile. This one does reach his eyes. "We could watch a movie."
"I like movies," you say. The words sound dumb to you as soon as they leave your lips, but Homelander looks at you like you've just spun a beautiful sonnet. "Great, I have movies," he says, putting a hand on your lower back as he gestures you to the living room. His smile is broad now, eager and a touch boyish. You feel a little surge of endearment amidst the adrenaline. "What do you want to watch?" "Dealers choice," you say, slipping out of the apron before you take a seat at the couch. Homelander immediately busies himself with the television, flipping through Vought+'s enormous repertoire.
Still in a mild daze, you don't process any of the titles that fly by on the screen. Instead, you're hyper aware of the weight of the necklace hanging from your throat, and the lingering heat that Homelander's hands left on your skin.
So much for a simple gig.
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stevesbestgirl · 28 days
Text
look upon me.
Jonathan Ohnn / The Spot x f!reader
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rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 7,381 content: pre and post-incident Jonathan/Spot, reader is described as being shorter than the Spot but everyone is, established relationship, fluff, smut [fingering - receiving, oral - receiving, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [hair pulling, biting, scratching, orgasm control], hurt/comfort, brief obsessive/possessive behavior, this was not edited because I'm lazy
of the things he’d lost that day, there was one in particular that weighed on Jonathan's mind like a bad conscience.
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"Stop looking at me like that."
You hadn't changed your gaze to look at him, still locked-in on the meticulously organized papers in front of you as you scanned for the patterns and knowledge you needed. From across the table he was slumped forward, his chin resting on his hands as he did exactly that - look at you. It was so often that he needed to do little more than that to pass the time.
"Like what, baby?"
You couldn't help but smile at the false innocence in his voice. He knew what he was doing, he didn't care.
"Like you're just waiting for me to stop," you replied, eyes still locked on the scratches of ink beneath you. "I'm doing important stuff here."
"I'm trying to do important stuff to you."
The kind of embarrassing laugh that was accompanied by a snort left you, your head shaking slightly as you continued your steadfast refusal not to look at him, unwilling to have your concentration broken completely.
"Jonny, seriously," you were trying your best to sound serious and stern, but the smile on your face didn't quite match it. "I'm trying to make sure no one blows up in this deathtrap you're building at work, and your notes are nonsense."
"My notes are perfectly -"
"In the middle of this sentence you just wrote 'banana'," you pointed out, sliding the paper in question across the table and pointing to the word. "Do you know why you did that?"
"Because I needed them from the store."
You laughed again, the sound he was convinced was the most beautiful in the world, your eyes finally raising to return his gaze. When you made eye contact with him it sucked a deep breath from him - he was always struck by you, even after years of knowing you. He'd accepted long ago it would be this way until he died.
You looked annoyed, yet at the same time so profoundly in love he couldn't believe you were looking at him. You laughed again and he took your distraction as his cue to reach across the table, one of his hands laying atop yours gently.
"You're absurd," you stated, punctuating your words with a nod. Your hand flipped beneath his, threading your fingers together as your thumb brushed over his knuckles - the ones you could reach, anyway. "You either make complete sense or you don't make any at all. Black or white."
Sometimes you talked about him like another subject you wanted to figure out. If it meant you'd stay around until you did so, he was content to continue coming up with ways to puzzle you.
"But you chose me, Atom," he replied, reminding you of something that needed no reminder. Your cheeks burned under his special name for you, eyes locking on his as any annoyance left your body. He knew exactly how to melt away any negativity from you.
"Why do you call me that?" you questioned, head tilting slightly to the side in an adorable fashion that always made him love you just a bit more than he had a moment ago. So many things you did caused the reaction from him, and he was happy to continue to add to the list. "Anytime I ask you just smile. I want to know."
Something in the look in your eye and a feeling that now was when he should give you the answer you wanted had the words spilling out of his mouth. Compared to how long you'd waited it was rather unceremonious, but so many things between the two of you had always been as such. Neither of you were incredibly concerned with things being made into a big deal, and now was no different.
You already knew how much he loved you.
"Atoms make up everything," he explained, his hand squeezing yours lightly as he spoke. "You're my everything."
Your eyes softened further as you took in his words, your heart tightening just as his hand had around yours. With a smile you shook your head again, using your other hand to mark your place on the page you'd abandoned.
"How am I supposed to keep reading through this when you say things like that?"
"I could've been the next Shakespeare if I didn't love science so much."
"Did you even take theatre at any point? Or creative writing?"
"No, I took anatomy instead," that cheekiness was returning to his tone, the need heavy in his tone. You raised an eyebrow at his words, already expecting something along the lines of what would come next. "Wanna see what I learned?"
He wiggled his eyebrows playfully, a grin that you loved more than anything in the world spreading across his face as he leaned forward in his seat, waiting for permission to come closer, waiting for you to give in. You couldn't help it when you looked deep into his eyes, seeing how badly he needed you…you had to give him something.
As you nodded he immediately grabbed your chair to move it closer, only for you to reach out and grab the table, clicking your tongue against your teeth.
"Well, I still have to finish reading, don't I?"
"But…"
"Aw, don't pout, Doctor," you cooed, turning your head and leaning to kiss his cheek softly. "I'm sure you can find a way to prove how hard you studied while I finish up."
Yeah, he could.
The security deposit the two of you had put on this apartment was forgotten as he yanked his chair across the wooden floor, settling it right next to yours. As he got comfortable you began your work again, the switch of your own activated - when it was time to focus, you could always be relied upon to do so.
Even when one of his large hands slid across your chest, cupping one of your breasts tenderly. The first touch from him was always cautious and respectful, waiting for you to say a single word of disagreement. You nodded, eyes briefly flickering to his before you focused back in one your task.
Thankful for the oversized v-neck sweater you'd worn today he slid a hand into the soft fabric, mentally thanking you for having removed your bra already when you got home. The soft flesh of your breast felt perfect in his hand as he massaged it tenderly before his attention quickly turned.
His thumb brushed over your nipple gently before circling the sensitive bud, his eyes still focused on your face and searching for any sort of reaction. Even when he pinched not a single sound left you, your face unchanging as you read his words.
And while he wanted to let you focus, he couldn't stand to not hear you at least moan for him.
He abandoned his hold on your breast to hike the knee length skirt you were wearing up around your waist, gently pushing your panties to the side - still somewhat waiting for you to stop him. You didn't, convinced you could outlast him in this little game the two of you were now playing, but honestly not really caring if you lost.
You almost lost completely when he leaned down, his tongue circling your nipple as his index finger circled your clit. You slipped - it was understandable - and a soft moan filled the room, your eyes momentarily falling closed as he sucked your nipple gently before looking back up into your face.
"Well finally," he dragged the final letter out as he pushed his middle finger into you, running his tongue over the same nipple again. "You're so wet already."
"I like reading your work," you confessed in a broken voice, allowing yourself a brief moment to forget your focus. You felt his mouth fall open in shock and the groan that he let out at your words.
"Oh."
He kept his mouth busy, as he often liked to do when you were alone together in various ways, but where he chose to focus his attention on proving his anatomy skills was with his hand. As he pumped his longest finger into you he stroked your walls lovingly, pushing against the spongy spot behind your clit carefully and with the perfect amount of pressure each time.
When he pushed his index finger inside you as well, with ease considering how wet you were now and with a downright pornographic sound he couldn't help but moan as he suckled on your breast.
You were trying to focus still - a remarkable feat, mind you, considering how good his fingers felt pumping into you at this speed and with this amount of care - but one of your hands came up to hold the back of his head, fingers pulling at the messy strands of his hair.
"Jonny…"
Your moan immediately had his attention, his mouth abandoning you so he could flash you a cheeky grin, his cheeks deep red in color and pupils blown wide as he took in your face again.
"Oh, now you want attention?"
You blew a deep breath out of your nose, giving his hair a gentle tug as you met a pump of his fingers with a grind of your hips.
"I only have one more page to make sense of…"
"But…"
"You can wait five minutes…"
"I can't," he whined, his voice ridiculous in this tone but earnest - he really couldn't wait for you much longer before he got excessively needy, but you loved pushing him to the edge sometimes. "I swear to…whatever the hell scientists swear to I can't, my tongue needs to be in you now or I swear…"
You pushed his head upward to claim his lips in a heavy kiss, a heavy groan from him falling against your mouth as you licked across his bottom lip before whispering lightly.
"If you're a good boy and let me finish I'll let you cum in me tonight."
If he wasn't so excited about the promise you'd made he would have been embarrassed by the high pitched moan that he allowed to rip through his chest, instead he could only sit spellbound as you sank your teeth into his bottom lip lightly, pulling back slightly before pulling away entirely. You licked your lips slowly, eyes holding his gaze for a moment before you continued.
"But only if you let me finish, Jonny," you warned, turning your attention back to the documents on the table and releasing your hold on his hair. "D'you think you can manage that?"
"Yes," he promised with a huff, rolling his eyes at the fact he had to wait…he understood your fears about his job but at the moment would insist there were other things that deserved attention. He tentatively pumped his fingers back into you, not even risking a glance at your face now. "But…to clarify, I still want my head between your thighs first."
"Jonny," you warned again, flashing him one last serious look with your eyes, though a light smile played on your lips. He removed his fingers from you with another huff, lifting his hand to wrap his lips around them with an appreciative groan.
Aware of your attention on him again and your mouth falling open he grinned as he released his fingers with a pop, shrugging his shoulders unceremoniously.
"Sorry," it was the fakest use of the word he'd ever used, you were aware of that. "Just speaking my truth."
But he was capable - hell, he had a PhD, he could be patient if he really needed to be…no matter how badly he didn't want to be. No matter how hard his dick was throbbing against the black sweatpants he had chosen to wear around the apartment.
He waited until you started putting the papers back in a neat stack, instead choosing to stand quickly, grabbing you by the waist and leaning down to claim your lips in a hungry, somewhat messy kiss. Thankful you returned his kiss and chose calculated movements to encourage it into something more precise, he focused on turning the two of you until the backs of your thighs were hitting the edge of the table.
"Now," he whined out in a heavy breath. "Need you now. Please, now."
He was begging against your lips as he worked the zipper and button open on your skirt, pushing both it and your panties to the ground and kicking the fabric out of the way in hopeful anticipation. You could feel his hard cock pressed between the two of you and knew he had done the best he could in waiting, but that didn't affect how you loved to tease him still.
"You're ravenous tonight," you pointed out in what could be described as little more than a purr, nipping at his bottom lip again to pull another moan from his chest. He returned the favor before he stood straight - well, straight for him - encouraging you to lay back against the table.
"I'm about to show you how much."
He found his own seat in the chair you had been in and leaned forward as his hands slid to grasp your knees, encouraging your legs apart and baring your dripping sex to him. One of his hands trailed upward and he watched in awe as his fingers glided up and down her soaked folds, back and forth, spreading the slick he had already earned.
He continued this motion, adding in gentle rubs to your clit, as he kissed up your inner thigh, enjoying the soft feeling of your skin against his lips as you moaned at the familiar scratch of his beard.
"Jonny…please…"
"Oh, now who's needy?"
But he didn't tease like you, he wasn't able when it came to you, and it wasn't like he could wait any longer. Before you could blink again he had leaned forward, parting your folds with his tongue as he ran the thick muscle through them, well intent on tasting every inch of you again like it was the first time.
"Oh, you're indescribable," he grumbled against you after he'd flicked his tongue against your clit, glowing as your fingers found their way into his hair again, holding him close. Any complaints you'd ever made about his smart mouth were always forgotten when his tongue was worshipping you.
"Feels so good, Jonny," you moaned breathlessly, pulling his hair to encourage him back to what he had been begging for.
With a deep groan he continued, alternating between sucking on your clit and running his tongue between your folds, filling the apartment with lewd sounds as he slurped at your soaked pussy, ensuring every inch received his attention. He began to fuck his tongue into you, his nose pushing against your clit as he devoured you exactly how you wanted.
And that's how he got his first reward, your walls fluttering around his tongue as you came around him, your vision clouded as your orgasm rushed through you. As you moaned his name and your shaking thighs came closer around his head he didn't stop, instead continuing to lick at your sex like he was already setting out to pull another from you.
Your whines and whimpers of overstimulation filled the room, pulling at his hair as you fought to catch your breath and wiggle. He took the silent instruction and removed his mouth from your core, instead kissing along the thigh that hadn't received any earlier. He couldn't resist in full, though, his index finger slipping through your folds and into your still quivering sex.
"So wet," he cooed, just before he sucked a purple hickey to the inside of your thigh. "My dick's gonna slip right in."
"Please," you whined again, fully aware that now the tables had turned and you were the desperate one. You knew what Jonathan fucked like on nights where he was feeling like this and you were eager to feel him stretch you again, but through your orgasm's lingering haze you weren't sure how constructed of a sentence you could muster.
"Aw, baby, that's so cute," you could hear the smile in his voice and against your skin as he continued to kiss wherever he could reach, his lips now pressing to the hips he loved to grab so much. "Beg a little more for me?"
To be clear, he was asking - not telling.
"Jonathan," you whined, releasing your hold on his hair to instead reach for his shoulders, hoping to encourage him to finish his climb back up your body. You weren't thinking clearly, it was obvious - you may have thought the two of you were in bed but you weren't, and there was no way this old wooden table would support what he was about to do to you. "Please. Oh fuck please just…please. I need you."
"What d'you need?"
Okay, so maybe he could tease a little…he so rarely felt like he had any power in this world and these moments where he had you, the most beautiful woman in the world, at his fingertips were irresistible.
"Want you to fuck me," you whined, heart bursting as he finally gave into you and reached to press his lips to yours in a gentle kiss. His finger was lazily pumping into you still, holding you on the brink of overstimulation - he truly did know exactly what to do to your body.
"You want me to fuck you?" he questioned, a falsely puzzled tone behind his voice. "Or you need me to fuck you?"
"Semantics."
"Say it."
His voice snapped slightly lower, just enough in the way it did when he was trying to communicate his seriousness - something he honestly rarely did with you. He would never yell at you, but that didn't mean he couldn't let you know the gravity behind his words in other ways. He needed you to say it - exactly it, and to accentuate his point, he removed his finger from you altogether.
"I need you to fuck me, Jonny," you begged against his lips, turning slightly to press lazy kisses to the corner of his mouth until you reached lower, kissing his neck in the spot you knew would melt away this dark streak.
He stood up immediately, shoving his sweatpants and boxers down to the floor and kicking them to join your skirt, fisting his cock and rubbing it through your folds to gather the mixture of cum and his spit that lingered between them.
"Don't tease," you whined again, eyes meeting his in a hope to convey your desperation. His other hand reached to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing across the bone before it trailed to your bottom lip, repeating the gentle motion as he quietly shushed you.
He started slipping his painfully hard, leaking cock inch by inch into you, trying to take his time and savor the feeling of each push, but by the time he had sheathed his cock fully in you there was something already unmistakably unhinged about his movements, his hand that had been between your thighs grasping your hip tight.
"Fuck…fuck…" he groaned as he tried to force himself to still for a moment, instead finding he couldn't help but pull completely out and thrust back in roughly, his fingers holding you hard enough to bruise - which honestly, you hadn't been aware he was strong enough to do so until now, and this was far from the first time the two of you had fucked.
"Jonny, o-oh my…"
"Fuck," he groaned out as he continued to thrust into you desperately, his movements hard and a little sloppy as he tried to find a pace he liked. When he finally settled on one he leaned forward to kiss you again, pounding into you with your bodies pressed so close together you could hear obscene sound of his balls slapping against you. "You're so perfect. You're so so so perfect."
You kissed him until you were breathless, repeated moans covering his lips as he continued with the perfect pace to match how feral he felt for you now - quick and hard, almost bruising, desperate to coax you toward another orgasm and earn his own.
You dragged your nails down his back - you might had even drawn a couple of specks of blood with how rough you accidentally slipped into - kissing back down to his mouth as you fought for a desperate breath through moans and mewls. You made a mark of your own on his neck, a spot he would wear with pride for the days it would last on his skin.
"I want you to cum again for me," he managed out between heavy breaths, one of his hands sliding to hold the back of your head gently. "Before….before I…"
"Before you fill me up," you finished for him, your tone breathy and lascivious before you ran your tongue over the hickey you'd just given him.
He moaned - whether it was at your words or tongue didn't matter - and grabbed your hip harder, his pace faltering again into something much for harder and carnal as his mind was overtaken by the idea of spilling his hot load into you.
"Gonna…gonna fill you…" he began muttering promises through breaths and thrusts, any semblance of normal speech pattern forgotten. "So fucking full."
"Please."
"Yeah, baby," he promised, managing to fight through the primal thoughts in his mind to carry out another delicate action, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Know you love it. Go ahead and milk it out of me."
His hold on your head remained as he released your hip, slipping his hand between your bodies instead to rub your clit with purpose, fully intent on not allowing himself release until he felt you spasm around his cock.
With the loudest moan of his name he'd perhaps ever earned you threw your head back, thankful his hand was there to protect it from the hardwood as your vision turned white, the temperature in the room seemingly one-thousand degrees as you clasped your legs around his waist, holding him closer.
His thrusts continued to get sloppier, and when he felt your orgasm approaching a more manageable end, he opted to ask before finding his own release.
"Can I…can I…"
"You owe me two minutes that you interrupted…when I was trying to clean…"
"Baby, no," he begged, his head shaking as he pressed gentle kisses to your cheeks and forehead and nose, hoping his sweet affection would earn him favor. "Oh, please, no…"
"Not yet."
It was a wonder that he could continue fucking you like this with how hard he was, the discomfort and need to cum evident by his begging and whining. When you finally gave him the permission he was seeking his orgasm was immediate - thick, hot ropes of his cum filling you so much it didn't take long for the thick liquid to start leaking out around his cock.
You were both overly sensitive, but that had never stopped him before and it certainly wouldn't now as he continued to drag his half-hard cock through your painted walls, content on doing so until you were a mess, pleading with him that you'd had enough and it was too much.
He listened, removing his cock from your freshly fucked sex and sitting in the chair that waited beneath him, eyes fixated on your leaking cunt. He couldn't resist - three fingers gathered the mixture of fluids that was flowing from your pussy and he pushed it back in with little consideration toward your overstimulation.
You shot up with a gasp, sitting upright just as he removed his fingers again, wasting no time and unwilling to hear complaints as he dove back between your thighs, messily licking and slurping at your hole until he felt enough of your combined releases were on his tongue. He leaned back up, one of his hands coming to the back of your head to pull you down to meet him in a heavy kiss, passing you the thick liquid he held on his tongue and continuing to lick at your mouth as it slid down your throat.
When he broke the kiss for breath his eyes were full of so much love you thought he might break your shared "no marriage" rule and propose.
"I fucking love you," he finally breathed out, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his lap gently to continue the shared moment of pure bliss.
"I love you, Jonny," you promised in return, nuzzling your head against his shoulder as you curled against him. "In every universe."
There was no way for you to know that, and yet, it didn't sound like too much of an impossibility.
"Atom…"
His affectionate tone was matched by the loving way he pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose before he claimed your lips again in the softest kiss of the night, letting you climb out of his lap afterwards knowing there were things to be done after sex.
"'m ordering a pizza before we go to bed," he called after you as you grabbed your sweater from the floor, using your other hand to attempt to run your fingers through your messy hair.
"'m gonna shower," you replied, grabbing the other pile of clothes to add them to the hamper. He loved how easy things had become between the two of you in these recent years - he wouldn't give it up for all the power in the world. "Extra cheese or I'm breaking up with you."
"What kind of monster do you take me for?"
"The kinda monster that better hurry up so he can join me in the shower."
You took him by surprise by leaning behind him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as your arms hugged around his neck briefly. Sometimes he didn't know how or why or for how long it would last, but he knew for now, at least, you loved him in ways writers try to convey in novels.
"I'll be so fast you'll think I teleported there."
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Of the things he’d lost that day, there was one in particular that weighed on his mind like a bad conscience. The reason for so many of what he used to hold in his heart as his best days, the very same that now incessantly repeated in his mind, an unremitting reminder of what he used to have. 
When he declared he had lost everything due to the incident, he was speaking of you. 
It hadn’t taken long for him to reach through to steal a look at his lost love, and while he told himself it needed to be something that didn't become a habit that's exactly what happened. Some things never changed - he was still more than happy to do nothing more than gaze at you in silence, enjoying how you adjusted annoyances as you read, the way your nose crinkled in focus, the way you fell asleep on your desk, the way you played with the necklace he'd given you when you were nervous…
He'd almost broken his promise to himself several times now, happening across you on a bad morning and an even worse night when the emptiness in your chest at the loss of him was too much to bare, the false face you normally wore too much effort to carry on forever. You missed him, and sometimes you couldn't bring yourself to do more than sob that fact into the night, clutching the lab coat wearing teddy bear he'd gifted you to your chest.
He was positive he still had a heart, because he could feel it breaking every time.
Now was one of those times, perhaps the worst he'd seen you endure, and he'd only been watching for a minute now…at least, that's what he thought, though he wasn't keeping track of time. Your eyes were burning red and you had a framed photo of the two of you lying on the bed next to you, one of his old shirts hugging your frame in familiarity.
“Jonathan?”
The sound of his name from your lips again punched another hole somewhere in him far deeper than any other. You felt him - without words you knew he was there, his presence occupying your space in a familiar comfort that you’d come to accept was irreplaceable. So he had lost track of time…enough time for you to feel him again, the man you'd spent so many hours with in the past exactly like this.
“Jonny?”
He wanted to disappear, a war waging in his mind between the profound desire to hold you again and the need to hide what he’d become from you. Instead, he was frozen, even his mind quiet as the way his name rolled off your tongue again filled his ears sweeter than any memory. He'd promised himself that you would never have to look at what he had become, insistent that you thinking he was dead was better.
“Please, Jonny…I can feel you,” your voice broke more and more with each word, desperate to plead to him enough to persuade him. “I know…I know you’re there, somehow. Please.”
What was he supposed to do when you begged like this? You used to beg in the sweetest ways, he'd never made you beg for anything in earnest, not through tears like this…
Seeing you like this because of him made him feel more villainous and monstrous than anything else he'd done. It was anxiety inducing to watch you beg for the man he used to be, knowing he could never again give you what he once did. It made him sick - every cell felt sick, every portal poisoned and shrinking, withdrawing within himself.
But one more sob from you and a lapse in judgement from him led to a wrong step, his form stepping through a portal directly at the foot of your bed before he could take it back.
Oh, how he'd missed your bravery. You were sitting in a flash, eyes wide and puzzled but not at all afraid as you looked upon him - the new him. For the first time he had to wonder if this form blushed - he felt his cheeks heating like he would have before, but that didn't mean they looked the same. You leaned against the headboard, away from him which was exactly the opposite of the pull you felt to him.
A familiar pull - one that you'd only ever felt before with one person, with your person. Your eyes resolved in knowingness and you glanced at the photo beside you before your eyes found what was technically his face again, eyebrows pulling together as you worked through your puzzled thoughts.
At least you'd stopped crying.
"J…Jonathan?"
A breath was sucked from somewhere in him and filled the room with a heavy sigh saturated in relief - he couldn't deny how right it felt that you were speaking to him again, seated in the same room…seated in the room you'd shared.
"Remember…you used to say I was so black or white," he cleared his throat that suddenly felt far too dry, an oversized hand coming up to the back of his neck to rub nervously. This is where he used to run his fingers through his hair, you noted internally as your eyes watered again hearing his voice. "Either a genius or an idiot. Now I'm black and white all at the same time…"
His rambling was cut by your arms flying around his middle, the size different between the two of you that had always been there now even more significant in his new form. He stood frozen in his place, form rigid as you squeezed him as though you would never let him go.
"You're here."
"I…I'm here," his voice was shaking and he wanted to run, he could feel the unease spreading across his body and expanding like a sickness. But the worse he felt, the more the holes shrank…everything about him was on-edge. "But I'm not me anymore, baby. I'm…this."
"You're you," your voice was that sweet, understanding tone you'd used in college with him, before the two of you had even dated and when you were both pretending you were nothing more than best friends. He'd always said it was like a lullaby to a baby. "I felt you."
But he didn't want to hear it now, and something dark and incendiary inside him screamed that you were lying - that there was no logical scenario where you were okay with how he looked.
"Don't patronize me," his voice snapped into something dark, holes flaring out again and spreading to almost encompass him in darkness, almost like a shield. "Don't. I know what I look like. I might not have eyes but I can see. I can see that I look like…a fucking freak. An abomination."
You couldn't imagine what he was feeling. There was no lying to him, he was a reasonable, intelligent man - he knew that this form was not what anyone would describe as perfect and was certainly not what you had fallen in love with, and there was nothing you could say that would convince him otherwise.
"You look like something tragic happened to you," your voice was unfaltering, the delicate tone coaxing him into the relaxation he used to always feel with you. "But I don't care what you look like, and I never have."
"It's not like a bad haircut or weight gain, Atom," he snapped. The vulnerability he was displaying was difficult to navigate as there was truly never someone to go through what he was…there was no anecdote to help him. These days, his default setting was anger.
Anger was better than anything else.
"I'm hideous. Look at me."
"I am," you said quietly, your voice dropping to just above a whisper. You looked right in his face, unwaveringly. He longed to kiss you more than ever before. "I'm looking right at you, Jonny."
That quieted him as he lost himself in the tranquility of you - you were the only one who had ever understood him enough to walk him through the difficult emotions and that was still true, even with his sorrow and rage felt and expressed tenfold. He'd thought so before, always known so with no scientific way to prove it until now…you were made for him.
And him alone.
"My Jonny."
Before he could register the movement your hands were resting on his chest and the walls he was trying to built crumbled, the spots essentially exploding into dozens of smaller ones all across his body, avoiding where your hands rested. As you lightly stroked your fingertips there they merged again to several larger, relatively heart shaped blobs.
He hadn't felt a gentle human touch since the incident, and he'd never thought he'd feel your touch again. If it was possible, he could have died on the spot. It was obvious that he was lost for a moment, forgetting the danger he presented to you, forgetting to maintain control.
But only for a moment, the horrors ever present.
After temporarily losing himself in the haze of feeling your touch again his shaking hands flew out, grasping your waist tight as his breathing came in heavy, concentrated breaths. Instead of letting him retreat within himself you stepped closer, hands slipping as close to his shoulders as you could reach.
"I thought I'd lost you forever," you said quietly, already teaching yourself how to get used to looking up into his face and not seeing his eyes. "And here you are."
"I lost everything," the vulnerability was shining through more as he opened himself to you again, almost having to reteach himself for a moment that you were someone he could share his emotions with. "My dream job…gone. My body…which was no temple to begin with but now I'm just this…this thing. I lost…I lost you. My dream girl…my everything. I lost my everything."
He saw the pain flashing in your eyes as you listened to him - as you empathized as you always had, your heart connected to his.
"You found me again," your voice was breaking again as you spoke, desperate for him to understand that all the times you'd said you'd love him no matter what you'd meant it. "I'm right here."
You moved your arms lower to wrap around his waist, stepping closer - but he ripped himself from you the moment you were close to connecting your head to his torso, the holes once again flaring in fear.
"No!" he shouted, immediately kicking himself for shouting at you. He took a deep breath to steady himself, swallowing hard as he calmed his emotions enough to speak again without lashing out. "You can't…the spots…the holes…"
Your brow pulled together like it always had when you were feeling inquisitive and you only sought to close the distance between the two of you again, stepping forward as you took in every inch of him.
"Holes?"
"They're portals," he explained, suddenly feeling self conscious about himself in ways he hadn't experienced since his one attempt at a high school dance. "I'm still figuring out how they work…and I don't want to lose you. I could really…really lose you."
He had missed this expression on you - when you were so deep in thought it was obvious your full focus was on solving the puzzle presented to you. He'd thought of this long ago and come to the conclusion that you would want to study him - to understand him more.
He wasn't sure he was ready to be the experiment under your scrutiny. But he was certain he could never be away from you again.
"Portals to where?"
"Everywhere," just like a doctor and patient, you were asking questions, formulating a hypothesis, he was providing the data. How many times had the two of you lived this scenario? Was now really so different? He remembered how you used to look at him in amazement…your expression now was truly no different than it ever had been. "Sometimes just back through another portal. Sometimes to other dimensions to other…universes. I've gotten lost and…I'd never forgive myself if you fell through. You can't be close to me."
"You just need to learn how to control them."
"I can't," he breathed out, his words exasperated with a break in the middle to accentuate it. It was all he could manage - it was all he had to.
"You can," it wasn't a tone full of false hope, it was decisive and resolute - you believed he could, and with your belief, he would try. "It's just another thing to learn, and you're the smartest man I know."
Before he could react to your sudden movements you closed the distance between the two of you again, sticking your hand through one of the holes in his arm with a deep breath.
"Hey -!"
Almost instantly your hand reappeared through his chest and a sigh of relief ripped through him, a puzzled smile spreading across your face as you wiggled your fingers. "Intriguing," he swore he could hear a familiar purr behind your words, and he had to wonder if you were trying to distract him from the complex mix of emotions he was experiencing. "How unique."
"You…you mean how freakish," he attempted to correct, focused on the feeling of you reaching into him. "This uhm…this has to be weird."
"You've stuck fingers in me," you defended, the playful tone in your voice one of the exact things he'd missed. Then again, in truth, he'd missed everything about you, even the parts he once didn't love.
"Atom…"
You pulled your hand back through him which earned another relieved sigh from his chest, his nervous breaths returning as you wrapped your arms around his torso again, your head finding a rightful position lying against his chest.
"Just hold me. You'd never let yourself lose me."
Your faith in him was misguided and foolish, the love you felt for him clouding your mind from the horror that you held in your arms - he was convinced of it. He froze, unwilling to give into even the slightest movement that would create a domino effect, unwilling to do anything to increase the risk he posed to you.
But seconds passed without incident until he'd been allowing you to hold onto him for several minutes. You were still here, still against him, still warming him up in ways he had longed to feel again for what had already felt like an eternity. Slowly, his arms circled you, pulling you slightly closer, clutching to you like you might still disappear at any moment.
As the minutes ticked away his arms got tighter and tighter, his hands resting on your lower back like you were made of porcelain.
"You kept all of my stuff…"
His voice was still so unsure, like he felt he was intruding…like he didn't belong here, in his own home. Like he didn't deserve to be holding you again. You nuzzled into him further in response, your hands flattening against his back to hold him against you tighter.
"I could never get rid of anything that makes me think of you," you whispered, eyes closed as you soaked in the moment, feelings both familiar and new.
"I haven't…laid in a bed since…"
He trailed off and you could feel the energy around him darken - you knew anger was a secondary emotion and in this instance it followed unimaginable hurt.
"Come to bed with me," you weren't asking, it was an instruction - voice unwavering and unquestioning. You looked up into his face again, and it was just like it had always been - you looked at him like you loved him.
"But why would you…ah -"
You really didn't mind the new height, in fact him towering over you more than ever before was causing other feelings that weren't quite appropriate for this sweet lovers' reunion, but it did make standing on your tiptoes more obsolete than ever, your lips barely reaching his chest. His words were cut off, a whine taking their place when your lips connected with his skin. He melted like it was the first time you kissed him, any residual panic withdrawing further into him as he held you tighter.
You felt the shift in his energy and smiled against him as you pressed more kisses wherever you could reach, mindful when you approached a spot, lips continuing to brush against him as you spoke.
"If you get into bed with me I can kiss more of you," "You're so tall now, Jonny. Can't reach."
One thing that hadn't changed was his complete willingness to obey you, to give in to your every request, to fulfill every instruction…it continued to be true as he scrambled into the bed, nearly groaning at the familiar feeling of his pillow and the sheets you'd insisted they needed again. The seconds that passed with him alone - with him getting used to his new height in the bed he once fit comfortably in, getting used to controlling the holes (when was the last time he'd laid down?).
But when you climbed into the bed beside him, the anxieties vanished. You moved as close to him as you could, one of your hands delicately resting on his torso while the other reached to his face, stroking your thumb across his cheek delicately.
It was the kind of moment where your eyes close in serenity, and somewhere inside him he felt it. Maybe he was a fool for thinking this could last, but with the multiverse at his fingertips, he'd always reach out to you.
All of the versions of you were meant to be his.
And they would be.
masterlist. spider-man & co masterlist.
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stevesbestgirl · 28 days
Text
buffet.
Eddie Brock/Venom x f!reader
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rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 3,146 content: symbiote involvement, is this technically a threesome?, tentacles, smut [v fingering, unprotected p in v, alien tentacles & tongue, double penetration, receiving oral] summary: the only kind of sharing Eddie Brock will agree to.
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It was really only a matter of time before something like this happened. After months of a casual fling with Eddie Brock – quick meetups in your office at work had evolved into hours spent between the sheets of your bed, which had turned into nights of him crawling into his bed beside you. The frequency that flowers came to your office signed with his name had increased, his visits to bring you lunch nearing every day – the other people who worked at the paper with you had their assumptions. And yet, despite the obviously growing intensity between the two of you, there had never been an official name put on whatever was transpiring.
But tonight, the two of you had escalated things by going to a very public press fundraiser together. It was the kind of event Eddie hated – everyone in their fancy suits and dresses, signing checks not to be good people but to make others think they were so, the sticks shoved firmly up their asses as they ate overly-expensive and shitty food. While most of the people present got an idea of the situation when you arrived arm-in-arm with him, the irresistible allure of every dip and curve in your body in your sleek black dress had pulled in attention you didn’t want – or need.
It was Eddie’s final thread snapping that had changed the evening. While you were speaking with one of your old colleagues, his eyes had lingered downward far too long for his taste, and he had put the man in his place with a raised voice. Veins protruding in his temples and neck, Eddie had openly chastised the man for being so indecent toward you, and in doing so confirmed what most of the people in the room already knew – he was hopelessly in love with you. You’d watched on, cheeks pink as you bit into your bottom lip, watching him loudly stake a claim over you that you had to wonder exactly when he’d began to feel entitled to it – not that you had any arguments to present.
It wasn’t a surprise when the two of you were escorted out and refused a car service home due to the scene he’d caused, and so you found yourselves walking through the park to return to whichever apartment was closest. The chilled air was helping to simmer the anger that was boiling in him, and yet he was still walking with an intensity that quickened his step, his breaths coming out in frustrated huffs. Once you were fully removed from the lights and sounds of the ongoing party behind you, one of your hands found its way to grip his shoulder, steadying his movements for a moment. Slipping your hands around his middle you pressed yourself to his back in a gentle hug, your cheek leaning against the leather of his jacket that was warm thanks to the heat he was giving off.
“I’ve never seen you like that over me, Eddie,” you purred, using a quiet voice to soothe him into the relaxation you knew you could bring him to. His large hands came to rest over yours on his stomach, a deep breath releasing from his chest with another huff.
“I’m sorry to embarrass you like that, baby,” he relented, his hands giving yours a light squeeze. His voice was hoarse, rough from the shouting he’d been doing not long before, and yet you knew him well enough to hear the hidden worry his voice carried – he didn’t want you to be angry for hastening the end of your first real night out together. “I didn’t mean to yell, I just…couldn’t handle the way he was looking at you. I didn’t fucking like how anyone there was looking at you, like I wasn’t even there. Like I wasn’t right fucking there.”
“You weren’t the one in the wrong, and I don’t think there’s any question about who I was there with now, Eddie,” you cooed quietly, sympathetic to his rising anger, knowing you could truly subside it whenever you wished. “And you don’t need to be sorry to me. I…will never complain about seeing you that way…for me.”
And at the same time you were coaxing him into a calm lull, the symbiote attached to him was in his mind, its words infused with something primal. 
She likes when we show possession of her, Eddie. We can smell it on her.
 Eddie turned himself then, his arms wrapping to hold you against him firmly as his eyes searched for yours in the pale moonlight. His mind less clouded in anger now, he took in the red hue to your cheeks, the way your bottom lip had already begun to swell due to your repeated biting, the way your eyes had begun to darken – this was a look he was familiar with, a look he coveted. His lips curved upward into a smirk, a look you also knew – a look that meant he’d finally relaxed enough to catch on. The hoarse gavel to his voice did nothing to satiate the flaming heat in your own stomach.
“Seeing me what way for you?” he inquired, the answer already running through his mind. His hands found your lower back, pushing you forward into him so you could relish in his heat. One of his hands slid to grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up toward his as he bent downward to lightly rub his nose against yours. “You like seeing me get possessive over you, pretty girl? Does it get you all hot and bothered to see me lose my mind over you?”
Pulling your lip between your teeth again you could only bring yourself to nod, quiet breaths increasing in pace embarrassingly quickly as he leveraged his proximity to you by allowing his lips to brush against yours. He loved to see how flustered you were for him – even Venom continued to mentally remark how you looked for them – but you knew what he truly wanted from you. Miraculously, you found your voice, nothing for than a quiet murmur against his lips.
“You look sexy when you’re angry like that, yeah…but what really made me hot was you getting so possessive over me,” you whispered, lips brushing his with feather-light movements as you spoke. His hold on your chin became firmer, his hand at your back slipping to grasp your hip. “Almost like you think I’m yours or somethin’.”
The taunt was intentional, he knew that, and responded in kind by slotting his lips against yours, beginning to pull you with him as he stepped backward repeatedly to disappear into the trees. Returning his kiss, you quickly found your tongue entering a dance with his, his hand sliding to cup your cheek into its warmth. When he felt there were enough trees between the two of you and the path, he pulled away from your kiss carefully, shrugging his jacket free of his shoulders as he went.
“You are mine, I guess maybe I need to do a better job at showing you that,” he teased, his lips connecting with yours again as he began to cover your back and shoulders with his jacket. Backing you into a tree he leaned down closer to you, testing how sturdy the thick trunk appeared to be. “But I know you like it, because Venom says it can smell how fucking wet you are because of it. I didn’t know you wanted to be mine so bad, you could’ve asked nicely, you know?”
“Eddie, Jesus, you talk so fucking much sometimes,” you whimpered, your complaint pulling a laugh from him as he began to trail kisses across your jaw. Your fingers bunched into his shirt on his chest, pulling him closer as you sought to rub your core against his thigh for any amount of friction you could get. His hands began to pull at your dress, bunching it up until he held most of the skirt at your hips, shifting his leg between yours to knock them apart.
“Try to keep quiet, pretty girl,” he whispered when his lips reached your ear, sucking into the delicate skin beneath your ear immediately after before he began to sink to his knees in front of you. “I’d hate to have one of those stuck-up assholes ruin our fun.”
Before you could question his intent, he leaned forward, running his soft lips along the inside of your thigh, inhaling deeply as each of his instincts screamed for him to. Keeping one hand on the fabric of your dress he reached the other to push your delicate underwear to the side, immediately diving into your wet folds with his tongue to test for himself how wet you were. Groaning on at the familiar honey-sweetness of your arousal his hand slipped to lift one of your legs over his shoulder, lapping against you as though it was all that had been on his mind for hours.
A quiet moan slipped from your lips, your head leaning back to the tree as your eyes rolled back – a good thing considering the mere sight of him on his knees for you was enough to make you scream. As his lips sucked against your swollen clit he slipped his hand back to your ass, squeezing firmly before running his tongue downward again. Fucking his tongue into you he released another groan before pulling away, placing kisses along the insides of your thighs.
“You taste so good,” he cooed, his murmured words of appreciation striking into you deeply, pulling another quiet moan from you. “All that fancy fucking food at that dinner tonight and not a single thing tasted this good.”
We want a taste, Eddie.
 The low rumbling voice, no matter how familiar it had become in the last several months, always sent a shiver down your spine. Even the symbiote was conscious of the situation and desperate not to ruin it, quieting its voice to much lower volumes than normal – though only for the benefit of the humans, as if it were left to the alien, it would cherish your moans bouncing off the trees. Eddie licked another desperate line between your folds, flicking his tongue against his clit as he savored every drop of you he could. His voice was husky when he finally found it.
“I’m not the one to ask, V,” he explained, his hand pushing against your backside to encourage your core to his face where his tongue waited again. “I’m not so sure if she’s ready for that.”A cold, slick and slightly barbed tongue licked a surprisingly solemn stripe along the inside of your thigh, chasing the path Eddie had taken minutes ago now. Goosebumps raised across your skin, a soft gasp falling from your lips as your eyes shot open to confirm the sight for yourself. Venom, careful not to anger Eddie, stilled its movements on your thigh as Eddie fucked his tongue into your warm channel again. Your fingers found Eddie’s hair, tangling into the soft locks to steady yourself as you nodded your head weakly, struggling to find words appropriate for the situation you found yourself in.
“You…you’re both part of one another,” you replied, words shaking as you fought to consent through the waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Eddie could feel Venom reaching out to every inch of his body, soaking in the desire every part of them felt. As you managed to nod your head you found words within yourself again. “I don’t want to keep myself from any part of you. Go…ahead, V.”
Eddie’s mouth fell open in brief shock before he reached to connect it with your clit again, sucking against the swollen nib gently as the tongue on your thigh reached higher now. The cool, wet muscle eagerly reached for your dripping hole, experimentally swirling the tip around your entrance. When they were rewarded with the sweetest moan they’d ever heard a groan rumbled in Eddie’s chest, his own tongue flicking against your clit as Venom’s tongue slipped into your cunt, far deeper than any human could hope to reach. As Venom began to swirl its tongue inside you Eddie continued his attention on your clit, reaching his hand that didn’t grasp fabric at your waist to force his pants down, freeing his straining cock with a rough slap against his stomach.
The pressure built in your stomach impossibly full as your legs began to shake, Eddie’s teeth nibbling your clit gently as Venom continued familiarizing its own tongue with the taste of you. It wasn’t long before you had to throw your head back again, a tidal wave of pleasure washing through your body as your orgasm gushed through you, the majority finding its way to Eddie’s mouth – he wouldn’t be the one to waste a drop.
Once content with how clean he’d ensured your folds were, Eddie began to raise himself back up, pressing greedy kisses to any part of your torso that was exposed to him. As Venom’s tongue withdrew from you Eddie hoisted you up, immediately burying his cock to the hilt as he pinned you against himself and the tree, shuddering with a groan as he buried his face in your neck. His strong exterior always melted in those first moments he felt your warmth welcome him in again, and with his face hidden in your neck and eyes squeezed shut he was oblivious to the sleek black tendril that wound itself around your middle, securing you to the tree further so Eddie didn’t have to focus on his hold. You welcomed him home with a moan, as you always did, which encouraged him to give a beginning thrust, grunting into your skin as he began to nibble on the tender skin beneath your ear.
“You’re so fucking wet, baby, my god,” he groaned into your ear, picking up the pace of his thrusts into you. With a particularly perfect thrust the head of his cock knocked against your cervix, eliciting a loud moan from your chest. Another tendril took advantage of your open lips, slipping into your mouth with nodded approval from Eddie. “We told you we gotta stay quiet, baby. Don’t worry, Venom’ll help – be a good girl and suck, love seeing those pretty lips workin’.”
Your moans were muffled by Venom, your glazed over eyes finding Eddie’s as he raised his head to look at you, to confirm that you were following his suggestion. Holding his eye contact and feeling the way your walls clenched him at these new sensations, you began to work your mouth over the perfectly sized appendage. A low, appreciative growl rumbled through the air from the symbiote, Eddie’s thrusts becoming more desperate as he connected his mouth with your neck again, sucking an obvious mark into your skin.
Between grunts he spoke praises, thanking you for how good you were being with your mouth and complimenting how fucking hot you looked for them. Within minutes his thrusts were becoming sloppy, and he took a deep breath to steady himself, unwilling to finish before you could again. Knowing Eddie’s predicament, Venom’s tongue slid carefully up your thigh again before flicking against your clit, mirroring the action it had watched Eddie do many times. Your hips bucked forward into Eddie’s roughly, a deep moan sounding in your chest even passed your stuffed mouth, your eyes rolling back before closing. Eddie reached a hand to cup the side of your face, coaxing you to look at him again with soft words as he began to time his thrusts with the flicks of Venom’s tongue.
“That’s right, pretty girl – keep those eyes on me,” he pleaded, his words broken up between heavy breaths. Though you pushed yourself to remain fixated on his eyes, both of you broke the loving gaze when you felt additional tendrils on your legs, working up your bodies slowly – almost inquisitively. “Venom…wants to make sure we’re both nice and full. You gonna let us?”
You could barely nod, eyes finding Eddie’s again to communicate your consent the best you could with a look. Even if your mouth wasn’t full, you wouldn’t have been able to find the words to describe just how it felt when an intentionally wet tendril prodded at the tight ring of muscle at your backside – nor how it made you feel to see the same was happening to Eddie. Venom worked the tendrils into each of your asses like it had planned to do so for a long time now, like it knew exactly how it needed to enter both of you to make it feel as good as possible.
Venom’s thrusts matched Eddie’s perfectly, its tongue swirling around your clit in a sinful synchrony that had your thighs shaking within minutes. Your hands reached for Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin even past the t-shirt covering him. Eddie’s breaths were ragged, and yet as you’d mentioned before – he just couldn’t bring himself not to speak to you.
“Gonna let me fill you up, perfect girl?” he questioned, his hands finding your hips as he began to relentlessly ram his cock up into you. He took a moment to look down between the two of you, watching how his cock disappeared into your tight walls with each thrust before fixing his gaze on your face again, groaning when you nodded your approval. If it were any other time, he’d want you to be able to speak – but he couldn’t chance the scream he knew you wanted to let rip through you. “Gonna fill you up so much I’m leaking out of you for days,” he promised, followed quickly by another, “and then I’m going to fill you up some more when we get home.”
Your thighs already shaking, you wrapped them around him tighter as you rocked against him, part of your moan slipping past the tendril in your mouth as your eyes rolled back. Your walls clenching around him pulled Eddie’s own release from him, his thick, hot load shooting deep into you as a low groan sounded in his chest along with a string of compliments.
When your shared euphoria had subsided, Venom departed from where it filled you so you could lean forward to claim Eddie’s lips in a kiss, your hands still clutching to his shoulders and body shaking as the pleasure continued to surge through you. Eddie returned your kiss hungrily, slowly pulling himself from you and steadying you back on the ground with his hands on your hips gently. When both of you were redressed, he pulled you back in for another kiss, his lips moving against yours as he spoke a final promise into the night.
“That’s the only kind of sharing you’ll get from me.”
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stevesbestgirl · 28 days
Text
reverie.
Morpheus / Dream of the Endless x f!reader
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rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 3,209 content: established relationship, sleep deprivation, mention of medication abuse, angry & possessive Dream, porn with plot, smut [throne sex, oral - giving, fingering - receiving, unprotected p in v] summary: what you'd intended to be a lesson taught to him Dream of the Endless turns to a lesson for you.
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“Why have you been hiding yourself from me?” the familiar cadence filled your ears before the vision took form before you. The fog cleared, you could easily make out the mess of dark hair atop his head, his skin radiant in the eternal night glow, the stars shining in his eyes. Morpheus, the King of Dreams, perched on his throne as he awaited your response – one that you would have been foolish to think he wouldn’t demand eventually.
You’d last seen him an entire moon past, the weeks the first in eons that Morpheus found himself conscious of the passing time, and while in the larger scale of existence the time that passed meant nothing, to Morpheus, those were the first weeks he felt the pain of a ticking clock. You’d done everything to repress your dreams, to stay away from him, following the argument that the two of you had the last time you were together. The direct cause didn’t matter anymore, all that either of you had clung to was the heart of it all – Morpheus was a petty being. And though you were not Endless like he, that pettiness was only matched by your own.
You’d been taking a cocktail of medications and weed to numb your sleep at first, a successful attempt at withholding your mind from the Dreaming. When even that was overpowered by Morpheus, you’d opted for stimulants to force yourself to stay awake – though you were only human, and the sleep deprivation consumed you into the deep sleep you found yourself in now soon enough. It was never going to be forever, your punishment of him, your attempt at matching his attitude where it was…but you had to hope that it would communicate enough.
“I was dissatisfied at our last encounter in the Waking World, King of Dreams,” you gave your response as your feet carried you up several of the stairs to him, testing his anger. “You were not very kind to me.”
“And so, your response…” he began, his fingers twitching against the arms of his throne. His voice held no hint to indicate just how angry he was, and so you continued up the stairs in hope to make out his porcelain features soon enough. “Was to return my…shortcoming, with cruelty of your own?”
You knew he was likely to pick up on the playful smile that covered your features as it reached your voice – but you also didn’t care. “Precisely, my King. It only seemed fair.”
“Hmm,” he mused, attempting to cover the slight smile behind his voice as well. Though he’d seldom admit it, your quickness to mirror his own behavior when he deserved it often entertained him. “I suppose I did deserve to be withheld from you. And yet, it must be said that this long without you…it has been cruel.”
As he came into your view, the features of his face less indicative than you’d hoped, you approached with slow and intentional steps until you were just before him. Slowly sinking to your knees before him you gazed up between your lashes, your cheeks glowing the exact shade he always loved to see. If he were less angry, less petty, he would reach out to brush his fingers along one now – but the harshness of his mood toward your over-punishment had faltered far less than you’d hoped. Biting your bottom lip between your teeth briefly in nervousness, burning under the intensity of his eyes, you placed your hands experimentally on his thighs, maintaining the apologetic look – one far too innocent to be truly sincere.
“I guess we both have something to be sorry for, hmm?” You inquired as your hands slid higher onto his thighs, voice soft enough to coax him toward relaxation but serious enough to communicate you weren’t going to lighten on your stance. His jaw clenched slightly, the evidence he was still unwilling to falter himself.
“I learned my lesson weeks ago when you were simply numbing yourself from me, little one,” he chastised, his fingers twitching against his throne again as his want to touch you grew. Though he could now speak quietly – only to you – the anger present in his voice was now evident as he knew his words were only for you. “Your behavior these past couple of days…this absolute disregard for yourself…is what needs to be addressed now.”
“Are you angry because you were worried for my safety, my King?”
The question was taunting, attempting to push him into giving into you. With your hands sliding up his thighs as you leaned forward, reaching one hand to work open the button of his pants, it was growing harder to ignore the burn he felt for you.
“I am angry,” he began, eager to communicate what he needed to before his rough exterior completely faltered around you. “Because you threaten to harm someone very dear to me.”
“Those are different words for the same thing, Morpheus,” you taunted as you pressed a meaningful kiss to the top of his thigh, a quiet apology that he already knew you felt. One of his hands finally reached to grasp the hair at the back of your head, pulling you to rise to your knees until your face was mere inches from his. His grasp firm and a stern tone behind his words he leaned forward to brush the tip of his nose against yours, eyes piercing yours as his other hand reached to work his pants free from his waist.
“I do not enjoy being deprived of you,” he asserted as his hand at the back of your head slid to grasp your chin between his thumb and forefinger, an intensity and seriousness behind his eyes you’d never seen before…which was impressive considering intense and serious were in his nature. Behind it all lingered the anger still. “Do not do it again.”
You could barely bring yourself to nod, lost in the endless galaxies in his eyes, your mind desperately trying to focus on his words despite the fact that every cell that made up your body could do nothing but yearn for him. His grasp did not falter, his gaze holding yours still as he leaned forward to claim your lips in a heated, angry kiss, his desperation for you seeping through his every movement. Your hands found their way to his chest, clutching at the exquisite black fabric of the simple sweater he’d adorned himself in that day as you returned his kiss.
You began to trail your kisses down his perfectly smooth neck as he released his hold on your chin, both of his hands finding their way to your shoulders as you found yourself free of clothing. With an impatient tug at his shirt, you nipped at the skin of his neck eagerly, hoping your intent was clear without words. Thankfully, he took your sign to remove his shirt, leaving him gloriously bare before you. Your kisses trailed down the impossibly perfect frame before you until you reached his waist, placing a final kiss on his hip as one of your hands grasped his awaiting cock.
An impatient groan left his chest as his hand found the back of your head again, turning it toward his hardened length as his simple instruction – “open” – filled your ears and mind itself. Every movement he made was indicative of the anger he still harbored for you, and while your mind had to wonder if allowing the Endless his way was beneficial long-term, it was silenced by your fulfilled instinct to wrap your mouth around him.
As much as you loved listening to his voice, the sounds that left his mouth were the finest of them all – particularly the repressed groan that left erupted from his chest as your gaze connected with his once again. Grasping his fingers into your hair he thrust his hips up, pushing his cock further into your mouth and into your throat to urge you forward. Your pleasured moan vibrated through his body, your hands reaching to grasp his thighs as he found solace in the warmth of your mouth. As he began to repeat his thrusts into your mouth, he ensured you held his gaze, drinking in the sight of you coming undone for him – the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as he refamiliarized himself with your mouth, the drool dripping down your chin; perfectly imperfect and entirely for him.
“Don’t you know what you’re doing to me?” He inquired, fully aware that the only response you would offer were your fingernails digging into the tops of his thighs. “I do not wish to be angry with you, beloved.”
With a thrust hard enough, assuredly, to bruise your throat he pulled his throbbing cock free of your mouth, tilting your head back to look at his still-hardened face. Fighting for a proper breath you reached your hands to rest on his on either side of your face, nodding with your lips partially open in confirmation that you understood – pushing him this far was not an option again. He pulled you upward to reconnect your lips to his he kissed you harshly, releasing your face once you’d fully submitted to his kiss to lower his hands to grasp your hips.
Climbing to straddle his waist you immediately felt the intense wave of heat that rushed to your core. A blissful sigh slipped from your lips, your hands reaching to grasp into his tousled hair as ivory fingers slipped between your folds to test how wet you’d become for him. Ending at your clit and rubbing a gentle circle around the nub, there was no holding back your desperate moan which he gladly swallowed into the kiss.
“Although, I do think you enjoy when I’m angry with you,” he proclaimed as he released the kiss, his fingers sliding back toward your entrance to dip his forefinger into you teasingly. “Just feel how wet you are for me.”
Your hips jerked to his again, whimpering quietly at his long finger inside you, curling tantalizingly slow against the velvety patch within you, enjoying the way your mouth fell open for him once again and your eyes fluttered closed. Your hips jerked toward his hand, desperate for anything more he would offer you to take – the Dream Lord was often amused by your greed for his attentions. The friction of his palm against your clit pulled another moan from you, your hands grasping his shoulders desperately to steady yourself without his aid, hoping his hands would focus elsewhere.
Though he adored grasping your hips, he released his hold of you there to slide his unoccupied hand to your chest, cupping one of your breasts delicately as his cold thumb rubbed over your already-stiffened nipple. Somewhat bemused by the goosebumps that erupted across your skin at the feeling he took the nub between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it between the digits carefully before giving a harsh pinch – just as a second finger was added into your wet heat. Rolling your hips, you became keenly aware of the quiet, moaned pleas that were leaving your mouth, though the words sounded so foreign – it was always this way with him in the Dreaming, where nearly everything was too good to be true.
His fingers thrust into you expertly, his memory serving him well to remind him of all the ways to perfectly bend your body to his will until he felt your thighs begin to shake. As your walls clenched around his fingers ever-so-slightly tighter and your breathing hitched in your throat he removed his hand from your core, clicking his tongue against his teeth disapprovingly before leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. Once again, his tone was quiet – eerily resonating within your thoughts, almost as if Morpheus was inside your head, as well.
“Given how you’ve behaved so poorly these last weeks,” he began, his lips brushing yours in a tormentingly light kiss as he spoke. “Do you not think that you should have to beg me for your release?”
“Dream,” you whimpered, using the name only those closest to him seemed to these days, regretting the extra days you’d made yourself stay away from him. Your hips thrust toward his stilled hand, desperate for friction and to release the ecstasy that he’d built in you – though all you were met with was another opaque hum from his chest. “Please.”
You had to admit, you may have deserved the light smile that played on his lips – and despite its lightly sinister nature, you fawned at the realization he was beginning to falter for you. “I do enjoy the sounds of your pleas, little one. Perhaps you have more for me.”
A desperate whimper slipped through your lips as you attempted to seek a full kiss from him, your core grinding against his hand before he pulled it away entirely, grasping his admittedly throbbing cock in his hand. The view of his marble-esque hand around his own cock, languidly pumping himself as his eyes connected with yours, perhaps darker now than you had seen them before, always drove you to new depths of need for him – and you supposed that was quite the point.
“Please, Dream,” you whined, moving your kisses to his angled jaw where you knew he would not stop you. Your kisses trailed to his ear, breaths hot and desperate against the skin as you nibbled at his ear lobe. “I’ve learned my lesson, and I will never deny you again. Please, don’t deny me now. I cannot bare another moment.”
Turning his head to capture your lips in a heated kiss he guided his cock to your entrance, thrusting upward into your well-slickened walls entirely in one motion with a deep, appreciative groan. Your surprised cry bounced off the walls of the large chamber you sat in still, hands grasping at his shoulders as you accepted every inch of him until his velvety head knocked against your cervix. Normally, he would claim you in his bed, enjoying the look of you sprawled beautifully against his dark sheets – but tonight, his show of power included you riding his cock on his throne, knowing it would impart some message into your mind.
“You see how I reward you when you listen,” he groaned, his hand on your hip encouraging you to move your hips against his the moment he felt you adjust to him. With the perfect grind of your waist, he grasped at your hip tighter, his free hand reaching to grasp at the back of your head. Entangling his fingers in your hair he pulled backward slightly, leaning forward to press light kisses up the center of your neck, breathing in the scent of your perfume as he went. “It could be this way always if you simply trusted in my desires for you.”
Unable to refute his argument you nodded as best you could with his grasp on your hair, lifting yourself off of his length temporarily before dropping down, rolling your hips to emphasize the movement. His grasp tightened in both places he held, his hips thrusting up into yours wantonly as he found himself unable to resist the temptation to give into you fully – after all, you were listening to him so well now. You moaned his name – several of his names – as he picked up the pace of his thrusts, your eyes rolling back slightly at the repeated feeling of his cock hitting your most sensitive spot within.
Still somewhat angry he’d had to wait this long to claim you again, his thrusts became relentless, nearly forgetting that it was possible to hurt you too much – not that you would ever complain about what he wanted to give you. Pushing your head forward again he slotted his lips against yours, his tongue immediately seeking the taste he’d missed for so many hours – wondering if you knew that was truly what dreams were made of. You were certain from his pace that in the morning you would wake with bruised hips, unable to go about your usual activities or obligations – though if you’d complained, Dream would assert the only obligation that truly mattered was the one you held to one another.
It never took him long to push you to orgasm when he decided it was time, and now was no exception – your walls fluttering around him with embarrassing speed as your thighs began to shake again. Your moans became lighter, shorter, more feral as your nails dragged down his chest, clamoring for anything to grab onto before they slid back up and around his neck. As your own fingers found their way into his hair and you gave a light tug your ears were filled with a prolonged moan, his head falling forward shortly after to connect his lips above your pulse. His words were quiet, deliciously convincing and seductive directly in your ear – an effect you knew he was striving for.
“Let me treat you as art, beloved,” he groaned, sucking his mark into his chosen spot on your neck. “I wish to paint your walls with my release. If you will permit me that, you may cum for me.”
All you could do was nod, moaning his name in affirmation as your walls clenched around him tighter, silently begging him to reach his end with you. As his thrusts became harsher and sloppier you tugged at his hair slightly again, thighs shaking nearly uncontrollably as his hand at your hip slid to use his thumb to rub circles against your clit. Throwing your head back in pleasure his name left your mouth as slightly less than a scream as euphoria rushed over you, your walls clamping around him as you felt him release ropes of hot cum within you accompanied with a groan.
You collapsed against his chest when you’d both finished, burying your face in his neck and whispering a quiet thank you as his black cloak appeared around your shoulders, shielding you from the cold and wrapping you up within him. Moments later – impossibly fast – you found yourself against the satin sheets of his bed, unbelievable comfort encompassing you as he held you against him with one arm around your waist. Once he was satisfied with your stabilized breathing he reached his free hand to cup your face in his hand, urging you to look him in the eye before exhaustion took you over.
“Do not deny me again, little one,” he spoke, his words gentler than before and yet still firm, his fingers brushing against your cheek tenderly in the gentlest motion he’d offered that night. “My lesson will not be as kind the second time.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you promised, the choice of words intentionally coaxing a light smile onto his face, reserved only for those who truly held his affections. Pulling you closer with arms around your waist he ushered you to relaxation, watching as your eyes closed again before he leaned forward to place gentle kisses against each of your eyelids.
“I will join you in the Waking World, beloved.”
The night was full of dreams, and your day would be endless reverie.
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stevesbestgirl · 28 days
Text
the best thing.
Gale Dekarios x f!reader
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rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 5,608 content: porn with plot, established relationship (engaged), post-Baldur's Gate III canon, fluff, domestic bliss, smut [fingering - receiving, oral - receiving, unprotected p in v, creampie], kink(s) [overstimulation, orgasm control, hands, hair pulling, breeding, body worship]
after everything the two of you have been through, you're eager to give Gale one perfect, blissful day.
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It was almost unbelievable seeing you bathed in the golden hues of the morning standing in his kitchen, back to him as you fussed over whatever it was you currently had sizzling on the stove. It was so rare that he was able to sneak upon you these days - you were so attuned to one another that simply entering the same room was enough of a greeting.
But now you were focused, far too much so to notice your lover's entrance, or even to notice him for several more moments as he leaned against the doorframe, peacefully enjoying the serenity that being near to you caused. Even this was enough to fill his heart with love.
"If there should ever come a day when your presence does not fill this tower again it will surely be a day without sunrise."
You turned to him and offered a smile that rivaled the sun itself in beauty and warmth, every bit as life sustaining to him. You were wearing an apron he often donned in the kitchen, the fabric graffitied with streaks of color and puffs of powder. He was struck as he so often was with you, offering nothing more than a smile in return that reached his eyes as he remained transfixed by you - the very center of his universe and far beyond anything his goddess had ever shown him in beauty.
"There are painters who envy me of this privilege. To wake to such beauty in my own home every day…I truly am a fortunate man."
You would never tire of the way Gale's words spread through you like warmest fire, making you feel worthy of a love such as this every moment no matter how your mind was trying to force you to feel that day. To say in the time that had passed since your adventures in bliss would be an understatement - both of you had found what could only be described as heaven in life with one another.
Everything about one another had become home, the deep love the two of you shared the kind that people prayed to the gods for.
"You wake up everyday and set out to make me love you more than the last.""
"I could say the very same to you, my love," his voice was particularly cheerful this morning and you were glad you'd decided today for your plan. It was already off to a great start, and it could truly only get better from here with what you had up your sleeve. "What has you in the kitchen at this hour? We didn't exactly get to sleep early, by any standard."
When you've gone through the things you've been through, sometimes it can feel wrong when someone looks at you with the amount of love and adoration Gale was now…the way he did so often these days. Whether you were resting in his bed, reading at his side, curled with Tara on the couch, or doing any other thing to fill the time, he looked at you now like it was what he hoped to do last in the world.
And he always would.
"I made you breakfast. Or at least…I did my best at…making you breakfast."
The smile that spread across his face was more stunning than any of the scenery in all of your adventures, not a single star or moon matching its beauty. As you were lost in your profound love for him he took the lull in conversation to close the distance to you, wrapping his arms around you and reuniting you into his warm embrace - it hadn't been long, but it was always an eternity.
He pressed several kisses to your forehead as he gazed over your shoulder, analyzing the plates you'd made for the two of you to enjoy. His brows pulled together in an expression you recognized as being deep in thought - you pressed a kiss to the lines as he spoke again.
"I know this meal…"
Your lips lifted into a smile against his skin and he reached upward to encourage you to meet his gaze again, awaiting your response and hoping it was a confirmation of what he suspected. "It was the first breakfast you made for the party. I remember how proud you were and how delicious it was…no one had ever cooked for me like that."
"Your memory is just as astounding as the rest of you," he was positively grinning at you, eyes expressive and proudly displaying every bit of love he felt for you. His head tilted to the side briefly - something you were quite fond of - as his brow furrowed again, the arm that remained around your waist pulling you closer. "It's not my birthday, is it?"
Forget loving him more by the day - you loved Gale Dekarios more by the second.
"No, dearest," you replied, reaching one of your hands upward to rest against his chest. You held his gaze as you spoke knowing he preferred when you didn't look away. "I just realized…in all the time since I've met you there have been many meals that you've made me, and I've never made you a single one."
His expression softened even more, something you didn't know was possible, pressing a gentle and loving kiss to her lips. The first kiss of the new day was always a shared favorite between the two of you - no matter how many days passed the first always created goosebumps and pulled quiet sighs of pleasure from your chests.
"You are truly are a gentle soul," he muttered against your lips, the hand that still cradled the back of your head sliding to cup your cheek instead, his thumb brushing across your cheekbone tenderly. "I'm still not always entirely sure I deserve it."
"But you do," you promised, eager to hush the self doubt that still lingered in your fiancé day-to-day. It was something you were happy to live with - it never annoyed you or grew tiresome, you were more than willing to remind him how loved he was despite any mistakes he'd made in the past, that any he'd make in the future were already forgiven. "You deserve it, Gale. We've been through so much together and I was thinking…I want you to have a perfect day. I want to do anything and everything you want to do for an entire day."
"Starting with breakfast?"
You sheepishly smiled and nodded before confirming, "I know it won't be as good as when you made it, but…"
"It will be perfect," he silenced your own worries gracefully and gently before they could even begin to fester. "As most things made in love are. Would you join me on the balcony for our meal?"
It was incredible how something as mundane as sharing a meal together could become an act of utmost intimacy. With Gale even the smallest moments felt like a life's worth of promise and love - if every day was like this you would leave this life with nothing but happiness in your heart. The day passed with him like a dream, like you'd truly found the person you were meant to spend this much time with. The person you were meant to face the passing years together - who you were excited to watch more grey bloom in his hair.
After breakfast both of you had fallen asleep on the balcony in a gentle embrace, his arms holding you against his chest as you slept. When you woke, Tara was asleep on your back and so you'd continue to lay together until the tressym removed herself to carry on with her day. All the while Gale had gazed at you lovingly, stroking your hair and face when you had continued to sleep a few moments longer. He'd never tire of the serenity that filled your face in truly peaceful slumber.
For lunch Gale opted to eat by a nearby lake, the beautiful afternoon the perfect landscape for him to take a moment to indulge in a bit of poetry…about you, of course. It made you bashful when he did so - it always had and likely always would, a demure laugh passing through your lips as you tried to hide behind your hands as he poetically described the many things he loved about you.
Of course, the heat in your cheeks only increased when his poetry turned to that of describing the ways he wanted to demonstrate his love - but you were certain you were burning when he'd followed it with a kiss not entirely decent for a relatively public setting. Nevertheless, he certainly didn't seem to mind.
It continued with a trip to the bookstore, the apothecary, and to another local merchant where he bought some supplies for home and a necklace for you that yes he insisted you have, even though you now had a collection forming in the tower. Before you could finish your day in town he asked to pop down to the local inn for a quick drink.
You were well aware that this was truly just time for Gale to show off his future wife to the other patrons - something that always made you feel fantastic about yourself. The fact that the famed Wizard of Waterdeep felt pride in having you at his side was no small compliment - it was a fact you flourished in.
Back home, the two of you cooked dinner together, Gale eager to give you tips on how you could improve in the future. When it was time to eat you shared a bottle of wine that you'd selected together earlier and ate in silence, reading your new books with zero complaints even capable of being formed in your mind.
Your eyes only left the words on the pages to glance across the table to him lovingly - something you were joyous to find he mirrored frequently. It was after dinner had been cleaned up and the two of you had tidied up from the day that you found yourself in his embrace, yet again on the balcony where so much of your shared time was spent.
For a while he simply remained with his head resting atop yours, holding you gently as you shared another sunset. It was only once the sun had completely gone for the night over the horizon that he turned you in his arms slowly, eyes finding yours like it was their nature to do so, wasting no time in leaning down to kiss you again tenderly.
"Have you enjoyed your day, my heart?"
He smiled the kind of smile that pulled lines beside his eyes, eyes that were twinkling and rivaling the stars that had started to decorate the sky for the night. You could feel how content and relaxed he was in the delicate hold he maintained on you, the love pouring from him and seeming to wrap you in a tighter embrace. It was these moments where the weave truly connected the two of you, holding you together and proving that you were meant to be together in this world - and the next, if that happened to be what came.
"I have enjoyed every day by your side, even the difficult ones," his voice was so earnest there was simply no possibility of disbelief from you - you could hear the honesty soaking his words, every sentence another promise and declaration of his love for you. "But today has been perfection. I could thank you for a lifetime and it wouldn't be enough."
The kiss he gave you then was the kind that is written about in books - in fairytales, the kind that inspires poetry and signifies the truest of love. He continued to hold you against him gently as your lips entered a dance you both yearned for constantly - at this point you were no strangers to what each of you liked and it was reflected with every swipe of your tongues and movement of your lips.
And it was always until you were both breathless - never a second before. The two of you had experienced so many things together that had made so many of your early tenderness rushed - neither of you were ever in any particular rush anymore. This kiss was exactly like so many these days - savored. And yet this was only the beginning of what the two of you would savor in the night to come.
"Would you like to retire to our bedroom for the night?"
You words were light as you whispered against his lips, biting at the bottom one lightly when you finished your question. A truly pleased grin spread across his face as you pulled away, his arms still anchoring you to him - if you wanted him to he'd release you, of course, but it was never a moment too soon.
"Darling, you need only ask."
Thankfully, the bedroom was mere steps away and it was easy to tug him inside with hands gently pulling at the collar of his shirt, your lips not leaving one another for long. Though it was obvious where Gale's mind was heading - a it was difficult to deny it for much longer as it had been growing since the kiss at the lake earlier - you still had one more thing planned for him.
One of his hands slid lower to cup your ass and bring you closer, tongue seeking entry into your mouth again as he waved a hand to ensure there was some light by way of many candles. You shook your head to which he huffed, pulling away just far enough to pass you an inquisitive look.
"Not quite yet, my love," you cooed, pressing a consolation kiss to his lips briefly before pulling away fully, wrestling yourself free from his grasp with a giggle. "Remove your shirt and lie down on your stomach."
Though he muttered under his breath about it he followed your instructions, brown eyes searching your face for a response as you only sat on the bet waiting for him, always one to enjoy the sight of him undressing. When he was finally in the position you asked him to be you straddled his lower back, hands slowly rubbing the expanse of his shoulders with the perfect pressure to pull a groan from him.
And that was the end of his silent questioning - every swipe of your hand, knead from your fingers and caress was met with a moan, groan, or whine from him - as time continued on he was mumbling into his pillow about how much he loved you…repeatedly. When you reached a particular point you could practically feel tension melt away from him and you leaned downward to press a kiss to the back of his neck before encouraging him to roll with a squeeze of your legs.
And oh, was he happy to oblige - to be reunited with your face, now with the moon's glow coming through the curtains to illuminate you alongside the flickering candles. A considerable amount of time had passed since you began massaging him and still you showed no signs of stopping, continuing to straddle his waist as your efforts now focused on his chest.
"Your hands are divine," he was barely coherent through the pleasure he already felt, his words far less calculated than they're normally be. "I could lay here for a ten day and happily starve."
"I suppose you're feeling well about your day then, my love?"
It was an unnecessary question - you both knew it. But he was also just as aware that you loved to hear about the feelings your efforts had earned, and it had been a long time since he'd denied you of anything you wanted that he could provide. With his most charming smile he nodded, leaning forward to rub the tip of his nose against yours gently in an innocent show of affection.
You reached upward to run your fingers through his hair delicately, pulling a blissful sigh from his lips again. If it were possible to create a symphony from what filled your bedroom you would gladly hear its melody forever…a sentiment he'd expressed toward you once that you held at the core of your memory and found your mind circling back to often.
So much of his mind was an exact reflection of your that sometimes it seemed they were still connected sometimes.
"Absolutely blessed," when Gale spoke it was as though you were the one who could answer his prayers, something you found irresistibly sweet about him. "If you're not careful you will spoil me beyond reason."
You leaned down to capture his lips in a gentle kiss again, his hands grasping your hips again, sliding to rub over the soft expanse of your thighs. Too selfish to release his lips again you whispered into the kiss, your own hands resting on his chest still, his heartbeat steady and soothing.
"I fail to see why that would be so bad."
He could only smile into it as he continued to kiss you slowly, one of his hands sliding up to hold the back of your head delicately. He began to raise until he was sitting upright, keeping you anchored where you straddled him with his resolute hold on your hip still, ensuring your lips never parted from his for longer than a breath.
Before his arms engulfed your waist his hands made quick work of removing the robe that covered your frame, discarding it to the floor with little care. His hands caressed over your torso like he truly cherished every inch of you and sought to ensure not a single patch of you went unattended to.
(He truly loved every inch of you - a fact you believed deep into your core. You'd only asked him once what his favorite part of your body was - he'd almost been offended that you'd think he could narrow a list of such considerable length.)
"Still, it may be good for me to exercise some selflessness tonight," he offered, a handsome and playful expression illuminating his features. His hands were now gently resting on either side of your neck, thumbs lightly rubbing back and forth - unable to stay fully idle for long. "You gave me the perfect day. Will you let me treat you to a perfect night in our bed?"
"Have you known me to say no to you often?"
"Only when I've needed to hear it."
No further talk was needed and the two of you continued to kiss tenderly, his hands returning to lavish your breasts again. Your own hands maintained a hold on the back of his head, fingers grasping his hair delicately - completely unwilling to have him pull away. Happy to oblige and always eager to swallow the quiet sounds of pleasure he could pull from you, especially now in the privacy of a bedroom where it had not always been a luxury you'd been provided, one of his hands continued to trail lower.
Until it reached as low as he could on your leg in this position, fingers brushing over the soft skin of your inner thigh - it was obvious he was influencing the weave to crackle at his fingertips gently, the result a pleasant tingle dancing across your skin. Your legs squeezed tighter around him in anticipation and he chastised you with a light swat to your thigh, not to cause pain but to capture your focus again.
You responded with a light nip to his bottom lip which earned a cheeky smile from him, eyes staying on yours as his hand finally reached your core - where you were desperate for him most. Over your panties it was still obvious how wet you were in anticipation of him - your time with Gale had proven that things like that only spurred him onward more, the confirmation that you wanted him just as desperately clouding his mind of all logic.
"Have you been wet all day, my love?"
The tone of his voice melted you like wax, you could only nod and whimper as he pushed the fabric to the side, slowly running two of his skilled digits between your soaked folds. His lips were only centimeters from yours so every movement brought them together slightly, your moan cut off as he kissed you again, index finger circling your clit slowly. He opted to speak against your lips, unwilling to be too far from your sweet lips for long.
"I'd have indulged you long before now had I known this is what waited for me."
His fingers swiped back down to your entrance and the middle slipped into you slowly, a smile playing on his lips as he kissed you again. Though one finger meant every exit and reentry meant pinpointed strokes the stretch wasn't enough to satiate the pressure that was seated in your core, more of a stretch needed than what one finger provided. It only took a slight squirm of your hips for him to take the cue, slipping a second finger into you which you thanked him for with a moan.
He left your lips to kiss to your neck, reclaiming spots that had often been decorated with his mark in your time since returning home with him. His fingers set a leisurely pace pumping into you, stroking your velvet walls perfectly as his tongue lavished a spot on your neck that you knew would only add to the slick coating his hand.
His free hand came to one of your breasts to massage gently, fingers rolling your sensitive nipple and pinching to add to the melody sounding from your mouth. From where you were seated in his lap you could feel his cock hard and throbbing beneath you, adding to your desperation - as skilled as Gale's hands, fingers and mouth were it would never compare to joining together with him.
You rocked down against his waist which pulled a groan from him, fingers picking up pace as he nipped at your neck. "Patient, darling…"
His hand left your chest to grasp your hip instead, steadying the movements you both knew would drive him over an edge he was intent to tiptoe around still for a while yet. When you continued to try to squirm in his hold he removed from you completely, brow furrowed as he used a hand to push you onto your back. He kissed down your torso slowly, eyes staying fixated on yours as he went - communicating his instruction to stay still without a word.
"Gale please, I need you…"
You tried to tempt him into giving into your way for once by reaching upward and slipping your fingers into his hair, giving the messy locks a tug to try to encourage him upward. It was briefly annoying that you felt his lips curve against your hip - amused by your attempt, no doubt -
*(Later when your mind is clearer you'll reflect on this moment - as you so often reflected after intimacy with Gale - and you'd once again be thankful for his insistence on ensuring he went above and beyond for you in all senses.
It was impossible to forget that you'd become the most important thing to him.)
"You know I won't give you what you want until you've cum at least once for me, darling," he reminded, his voice feather light against your inner thigh now where he sucked a fresh mark into your thigh to match what the fading ones had once appeared as. Your fingers ran through his hair and tugged again, he only groaned deeply in response and lightly bit at the spot he'd just marked.
"Gale -"
He did love when you whined for him - it almost always nearly enough to make him break on the spot, the temptation to give into you near overwhelming.
"Ah ah ah," he whispered, the vibrations in his voice tickling your skin as his lips brushed a familiar trail up your thigh to your core. "No arguing, my love. I'm not asking anything unreasonable."
All that was left to do was melt as his tongue ran through your folds, an appreciative moan rumbling in his chest as he tasted you - as though it was the first time all over again. The argument was completely lost as he continued to cover every inch of your cunt with his tongue. He was exactly what he'd told you to be - patient - as his tongue ran back and forth between your oversensitive and swollen clit and your hole that was eager to clench around anything.
This was certainly one of his favorite ways to spend his time now - sometimes to busy his mind with anything other than tortured thoughts of the past he'd lose himself in devouring you. The fact that you always gushed on his tongue was a bonus, one he was more than happy to work for, sometimes refusing to remove his head until you'd finished multiple times.
Even he wasn't patient enough for that tonight, but he was enough to continue lavishing you with his skilled tongue, hands gripping your hips and angling you upward so he was able to fuck his tongue into you and lean back occasionally to gaze lovingly at your pretty, creamy cunt. With the amount of love and devotion he was putting into every movement, it wasn't long until your thighs were squeezing closer around his head, the subtle shake at his fingertips giving your impending release away before you managed to moan out the warning.
"I'm…I…"
"There you go," he leaned away to look up into your face, his lips and chin covered in your slick and his spit. One of his hands abandoned its hold on your hip to join his mouth, two fingers entering you again in a swift movement, the sound that accompanied the movement enough to build heat in your cheeks. "That's a good girl."
With his fingers now pumping into your hole again it left his mouth to focus on your clit, his tongue relentlessly swirling on the bundle of nerves as he pushed you toward release. Your vision was already whitening and your fingers gripped his hair tighter, a cry ripping from your chest as his other hand pressed down on your stomach.
That sensation snapped like a rubber band through you - while you were lost in ecstasy you hardly registered that your release was gushing from you, though Gale wasted no time in covering as much of your cunt with his mouth so he could drink your euphoric nectar.
As you were coming down he crawled back up you, pressing kisses along your torso as he whispered a word or sentence of praise with each one. You were pinned beneath him, one of his forearms resting next to your head as a leg moved to slide one of yours higher - though you were in a post-orgasm haze you registered you needed to wrap your leg around his waist.
His hand came to smooth your hair back, leaning down to press a delicate kiss to your nose - a tender action that didn't match the lewd way he rolled his hips into yours, his cock throbbing and leaking from what you could feel against your pussy. His other hand maintained a tight grip on your hip and he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips now, whispering quietly against them.
"Are you ready for me, my love?"
The truth was, he could never enter you fast enough - or at least he wouldn't, his playful nature shining through one last time before he lost himself completely in intimacy. It showed now in the subtle shake to his voice, the slightly higher pitch that gave away how much he needed you.
"Please."
"I do so enjoy when you ask nicely."
He started sliding his cock into you slowly groaning the entire way, opting not to continue to kiss you so he could gaze into your face with complete adoration, finding just as much bliss in seeing your eyes roll back and flutter closed as a light smile played on your lips as he did in feeling your velvet walls around him again.
And this - this was as perfect as anything else that had ever truthfully been described as such. This is where both of you found some reason, some meaning - where both of you created your own galaxies. It started slow, Gale preferring to savor the first strokes inch by inch every time. His lips never left you, kissing you gently in any place he could reach on your face and neck and shoulders as he muttered quiet words of love and appreciation.
Poetry that would only be shared between the two of you.
When he was satisfied with the amount he'd cherished every inch of your walls welcoming him in again he re-angled your bodies so both of your legs were around his waist now, the new angle allowing him to fuck into you deeper. Now he was hitting a spot he knew would make you see stars, hoping that you'd thank him for remembering exactly how to reach it -
"Gale…feels s'good…"
He sounded his appreciation with a loud moan of his own, his pace increasing as the tension built in his core now. You felt impossibly tighter each time he re-entered, a fact that was driving him closer to release. Unable to voice it he pressed a sloppy, desperate kiss to your lips before leaning his sweaty forehead against yours, breaths falling out heavy against your lips.
No matter how close his release threatened to snap, he would never do so without hearing you tell him to do so. You allowed him a moment to dangle over the edge for a moment as you bit into your bottom lip, catching his attention and focus - focus on your swollen lips, and the sweaty sheen covering your face and slicking your hair…on the way your eyes threatened to spill tears at how blissfully good you felt.
"Come for me, Gale," the instruction already had him grasping you tighter, but when you continued with an offer that hadn't previously been on the table it was impossible for him to hold back much longer. "Fill me…"
He kissed you again - a little too hard for how swollen your lips already were from the amount of kissing already done but with a passion that was returned nonetheless. His thrusts became just as messy as his kisses had and he pumped his throbbing length into you hard and fast, hips pistoning into yours repeatedly.
Both of your sounds filled the room as his movements pushed you toward a second release of your own, walls clenching around him so tight he now couldn't bring himself to remove from you completely. Recognizing both of you needed a breath as his own head began to spin he buried into you to the hilt roughly one last time as his orgasm started, toppling you over into your own at the feeling of his thick seed coating your insides.
You were thankful he wasn't a particularly massive man when he practically collapsed against you, breaths coming out heavy against your neck as his mind found a new addiction in filling your womb. Normally he'd withdraw to get a soft and warm cloth to clean you but tonight it hardly seemed necessary - even if you fell asleep now it wouldn't be long before he was sheathing himself in you again.
He would care for you in other ways tonight, pulling away from you slowly and pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead as he positioned you both into something much more comfortable, facing one another on your sides so you could continue to enjoy the serenity illuminating one another's faces.
Between your bodies one of his hands met yours, your fingers lightly tracing lines on the back of his hand. He continued to enjoy the true peace of the moment before speaking again.
"Today was beyond words," he whispered lightly when he found his voice again. You could hear the love that each word was spoken with - what's more you could see it reflected in his eyes. "You give me everything I could have ever dreamed of and more."
You moved closer to curl up to him, burying your face in his neck as he waved a hand to ignite the fireplace, keeping one arm around you to hold you close as one of your legs slipped up over his waist. After he pulled the blanket over your bodies he turned his head to press a kiss to your forehead, finding your eyes were already closed and yet you still had a small smile on your lips. As he gazed at you for just a moment longer Tara jumped onto the foot of the bed, giving a long stretch before settling in for the night, her purrs mixing with the crackle of the fire.
Just when he thought you'd already fallen asleep you surprised him with another question.
"Let's do it again tomorrow?"
He kissed your forehead with a light smile on his lips as his arms tightened around you, happy to give this and more to you for as many days as you'd allow.
"And the day after that."
masterlist. kinktober '23. baldur's gate III masterlist.
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stevesbestgirl · 28 days
Text
no place like home.
The Homelander x f!reader
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rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 17,578 content: dead dove do not eat, dark themes [kidnapping, dubious consent], Homelander is very much so Homelander, controlling behavior, smut [masturbation - public for Homelander, fingering - receiving, oral - receiving, unprotected p in v], kink(s) [breeding, semi-public]
Homelander doesn't just want to be loved by everyone, he needs to be loved by everyone...but most of all, he needs to be loved by you.
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“Homelander saves the day once again.”
“Homelander is our hometown hero after another heroic weekend.” 
“Welcome home, Homelander!”
One of his favorite things to do when he returned home was to flip through the news channels, swimming in the sea of compliments all for him…for whatever they’d scripted for him to do this time. He often found himself wishing he could drown in this sea - if he weren’t so fucking good at everything, maybe he could. This was always his favorite way to pass the time. The high he felt from the various phrases of approval for him would give him enough gratification until the next time he was let loose to do exactly what he was created to do. Your voice flooded his ears on a particularly cold mid-October afternoon, yet the sweet sound only provided poisoned words. 
“Homelander - Hometown Hero or Homegrown Hoax? On this episode we’re-”
A hoax? Despite the chill of the day, Homelander found his body immediately surged with heat at your selfish words of disapproval. Not that these petty chores were any real risk to him, but there was no law that he had to help people. In fact, he could choose to never help a single person ever again with his gifts, and there was nothing anyone else could do about it. Who was strong enough to stop the Homelander from doing exactly what he wanted? And yet, here you were, with a voice entirely too sweet to be saying such ugly things about him – about the one true god of this sorry planet. 
Failing to drain out your words, he found himself turning his attention away from the news channels on his tv praising him, and instead focusing on the laptop in front of him – on pulling up the video for your silly little podcast. He had to see what the woman who dared speak of him this way looked like – to see who such a sweet voice could belong to. And he was quite possibly the furthest thing he’d ever been from disappointed when his eyes finally saw you for the first time. 
You were so beautiful, so tempting and delicious, and yet you were tarnishing all of the perfect things you presented about yourself by speaking so poorly of him. Who were you, with your insignificant podcast, to sit here and pass judgments about anything he’d done? Who were you to threaten to expose the things he deserved to do – the things that were his right to do? You were nothing, and yet right now, you were everything that consumed him as he wrapped his mind around your words, as he tried to process the hatred you felt you could so freely spout for him. 
The half an hour show felt like an eternity as your words washed over him like fire. He was red hot by the time the show wrapped up and he found himself breathing heavily through clenched teeth. Pausing with his eyes glued to the frozen image of you the ending video had left on his screen, he found himself rising to pace the room, eyes never leaving the screen. He’d saved an entire bus load of stupid kids tonight, and this is what he came home to? To this entitled little bitch talking about the things you thought he did wrong? Right or wrong – it didn’t matter, because it was what he wanted to do. 
He found himself unable to rest. For the entirety of the day, it seemed, he worked his way through the archive of your work – from the beginning, desperate for any mention of his name falling from your negative lips. Episode after episode took up hour after hour of his night as he set out on his treasure hunt, becoming desperate as years worth of cookie-cutter journalism flooded his ears. But there was nothing. No comments about The 7, no comments about Vought, no comments about him…he almost found himself wishing to hear his name slip from your lips dripping with hatred rather than he wished for you to ignore him completely. 
His efforts were not rewarded until he reached a podcast dated November 07 of one year prior - the last episode uploaded until about a month ago. It almost made him giddy to hear his name on your lips again, and the feeling didn’t falter as the story of the short-than-usual episode took place – you were sorry you hadn’t updated the channel in a while, and let your loyal followers know that you would be taking a break from journalism to work through some personal trauma. The trauma was that in October of last year, Homelander had been told “no” a few too many times and decided to throw a tantrum to get his point across – laser beaming into a building full of innocent people without regard for their safety…without regard for their lives. Amongst the dead that day was a young man, the one with whom you’d planned to spend your life with. 
This wasn’t the story Vought told, of course – they could never tarnish the shining reputation of their golden boy who simply needed to learn how to accept disappointment sometimes. The story that capitalistic cunt-filled company twisted into the media for themselves was that Homelander had tracked an extremely dangerous group of gun-wielding terrorists to the building and taken the route with the least amount of damage by using his laser eyes to take out the terrorists (and half of the building with them in a tragic loss). He’d rehearsed the speech the company had written for him enough times to where his apology sounded sincere, though you seemed to see right through that little façade, according to your podcast. 
He could feel the hollowness in your voice as he watched you speak about how the last couple of weeks had been for you - about how you’d been feeling since you lost Adam. Homelander found that every time the name Adam fell from your lips, every time you mentioned how good of a man Adam had been , his eyes gave an involuntary roll. I mean, honestly, he worked in some totally unspectacular building on an unspectacular street - how special could he honestly be? This nobody was good enough for you to speak so highly of on your podcast, yet Homelander wasn’t worth an ounce of that attention? Who the fuck cares about Adam when Homelander exists?
The first episode you’d uploaded since then was from a month ago, and Homelander had to admit that the anger forming in your features as you spoke about him made you look so deliciously pretty. To his absolute pleasure, you hardly seemed to even mention Adam by name all this time later, but Homelander fell from your lips like a symphony…no matter how angry it was. He could listen to you say his name laced with every emotion for hours, and he desperately wanted to hear how you’d sound saying his name with praise. 
But you had no words of praise for him, not a single one. Every good thing Homelander did was scripted, and you pointed that out frequently. The real Homelander was the one who threw tantrums and killed innocent people. A hoax. You’d called him a hoax a lot over the last month across several episodes, and that word was not particularly pretty when you were saying it about him. You hated him. He was “everything wrong with being a superhero”, and a “mockery of the word hero”...blah, blah, blah. The feeling surged through him like fire and he swiped the laptop from his desk, sending it crashing into the nearest wall and snapping. No one talked about him like this. No one dared speak his name alongside such negativity, alongside such open anger. He was outside and landing on the roof at Vought in almost no time at all, making his way down to crime analytics - to Anika. He knew she could never refuse what he demanded. Dropping an image of you he’d printed on her keyboard he placed his hands firmly behind his back. “I need an address for her,” he snapped, tone serious enough to let Anika know the man wasn’t in the mood to wait today. “If an address isn’t possible, I need somewhere to find her. Today .”
All Anika could do was swallow and nod as she immediately began her work, searching for a trace of this poor woman who, for some reason, had Homelander’s attention. He never gave a backup option without her suggesting one, and the fact that he suggested anything other than an address meant he was desperate. Anika – and everyone else in the room – could feel the tension dripping from the dangerous Supe as he waited. Anika almost regretted handing over the information he asked for, but dared not to deny him what he asked. 
It was a genuine joy when he found himself outside of your meek apartment, gazing into the privacy of your home. It was getting late, well after 8pm now, and yet you still weren’t home. Just as the possibilities began swimming in his head about what could be keeping your attention this late at night you walked through the front door, dropping your keys in a bowl on the counter and immediately walking to the bedroom. He gulped down as you pulled your shirt over your head, reaching behind yourself to unclasp your bra. You lived high enough up in the building to where you felt safe enough to do this – to undress in front of an open window, free from the prying eyes of the streets. But you weren’t free of him now. You’d probably never be free of his obsession again. 
You wiggled your hips as you worked your jeans down the curve of your hips, your thighs, dropping to the floor and giving Homelander a glance of what you had to offer him – though with your back to him, he still couldn’t see what he wanted the most. Still, the view was enough to make him begin to tent his pants despite the cool evening air on the rooftop. You let your hair down from the messy updo it had been in all day and run your fingers through your hair as you walked to the kitchen to pour yourself a glass of wine in your underwear. Taking in a big drink you turned to walk back to your bedroom, and Homelander couldn’t help but push his pants down, face cold and emotionless as he watched you parade around your apartment looking delicious for him.
You walked to a record player and began an old jazz album before walking to the bathroom to run some water for a bath, right as Homelander grasped his cock in his fist, hissing at the feeling into the dark night. You swallowed another large drink of your wine and walked back into your bedroom, grabbing a vibrator from the nightstand and laying back on your bed. You would be sick to your stomach if you knew you were on complete display for him like this and the thought made his cock twitch in his hand as Homelander began working an orgasm from himself right as you ran the toy along your folds. He had never been more thankful for his sense of hearing than the moment he heard a moan fall from your lips. 
Groaning at the combined visual of the vibrator slipping into you and the beautiful sounds you made (which he felt was a much better use of your pretty mouth than your little podcast), he began to pump himself faster and harder, eyes briefly rolling back into his head before he pulled himself together again. His eyes needed to stay glued to you right now – needed to watch you pleasure yourself. Clearly your life wasn’t so fucking miserable, after all.
Homelander didn’t last long before he came into the air, not giving a single thought as to where it would land as it fell from the building’s roof, nearly yelling out a groan as you moaned once more. Allowing yourself a moment to come down from your high you then slipped the toy from your sopping core before throwing back the rest of the wine and walking your way into the bathroom to finish unwinding from your day. When you disappeared into the bathroom where Homelander could no longer see you he took this as his opportunity to return to his own home. 
It was infuriating for him…wanting you to adore him as everyone else should, knowing you despised him, and witnessing how fucking hot you could be. It was obvious your life couldn’t be so bad considering you appeared to have a job, an apartment, and enough drive to pleasure yourself the moment you got home. For a moment Homelander wondered if you had been with a man who couldn’t please you tonight, so you finished the job yourself when you returned home – but he pushed the thought from his mind when he felt the anger boil within himself again. 
It just wasn’t fair. He should be allowed to have whatever he wanted – he was a god, and god didn’t have to ask for things. They shouldn’t have to convince anyone to love them. Fear and respect for those superior should come naturally to everyone, and yet here this weaker non-super powered human was having the audacity to say such horrible things about him…having the audacity to ruin his homecoming this way. All he’d been able to focus on since he got home was you and your hatred for him when he should’ve been masturbating on his couch to all of the beautiful things people had to say about him. A journalist in his city as beautiful as you who only had negative things to say about him? That wouldn’t do, and he would get you in line no matter what he had to do. He would do anything to hear your praises, including putting in a phone call to an old acquaintance for a favor involving kidnapping his pesky journalist to get a point across – and he didn’t even have to ask nicely. 
And so as you slept that night a nightmare came true as a stranger crawled through your window to do Homelander’s bidding.
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There wasn’t much to decipher about your current situation, and as day after day passed you began to lose that fighting spirit you usually displayed with pride and the pit  in your stomach seemed to grow. You were fairly certain you’d been on this concrete floor in a windowless room for at least 3 nights now, and you were beginning to come to terms with the horrible facts about your situation – you probably weren’t going to like whatever came next, whether it was trafficking, or worse. You hadn’t heard another human voice in the time here, despite the fact someone – a man – stuck his arm in through the door to hand you food and water. It wasn’t exactly comforting to know that he was trying to keep you alive. 
The time passed slowly in isolation and only seemed to pass slower as new aches and pains sprang forth everyday from the harsh concrete beneath you. It felt like every couple of hours you were crying again, desperate to be home and in your bed, desperate to feel the sunshine on your face, desperate to hear someone, anyone talk to you. But reality was often cruel to you and now was no exception. Fortunately for your breaking spirit, the third sleep would be your last. There was no way to discern what time it was when crashing sounds could be heard above you, startling you and immediately sending you into a panic attack. Whatever it was upstairs sounded horrible – like the tossing of furniture, yelling, loud thuds – and you were certain this could only mean bad things for you. 
As the door to the small prison you found yourself in was ripped off its hinges you felt the tears flow down your cheeks faster than they ever had, a sob leaving your lips as you buried your face in your knees, fearing for the worst. The sound of boots came closer and it felt like your heart was going to stop before that voice filled your ears – a voice you knew well, and often wished you didn’t, but right now it was the best sound you’d ever heard. 
“Uncover your eyes, ma’am,” his overly-confident voice slipped into your ears, his tone even and soothing in all of the uncertainty you’d been feeling. “You’re safe now.”
You uncovered your eyes from the curtains of your shaky hands and they found their way to his outstretched hand before settling on the two sapphires that embedded themselves as eyes in his skull. You reached out one of the hands to his, which he used to firmly, yet surprisingly gently, lift you to your feet, pulling you against him to steady you as your legs began to give out. You hadn’t gotten to do much moving the last couple of days, and the concrete had done your muscles and bones no favors. 
Supporting your full weight against his solid frame with an arm around your waist the strongest man in the world helped you outside, failing to push the thoughts of how your body felt against his from his mind to try to be the best hero he could for you right now. When the cool, fresh air sucked into your lungs for the first time in days the tears came harder. Your mind continued to go into hyperdrive as the sirens surrounding you flooded your ears and the cameras of far away yet too close news vans. Your chest began to rise and fall faster as a sob fell from your lips, your lungs desperately attempting to find stability. 
He turned to you as your breaths became more desperate, your eyes darting around at all of the different people, all of the noises, everything happening , frantically trying to make sense of things you didn’t understand – that no one should have to understand. His hands reached to cup your cheeks in his hands and he turned his head down to look at you fully, eyes burning like ice into yours. His thumbs brushed themselves over your cheekbones lightly as his voice dropped so only you could hear him. 
“Hey now, miss,” his voice was gentler, less arrogant yet still confident as he tried to bring you back to Earth. For the first time you understood how so many people could find comfort in this Adonis of a man – this close to him the world didn’t matter because there was nothing that could ever hurt you, because there was nothing that could come close to him. “I need you to breathe with me. Deep breaths, right with me. I know you can do that.”
He was so reassuring, and hearing this man that could truly do anything instill confidence in you being able to do something with him gave your brain a moment of clarity. You nodded your head in his surprisingly soft hands and found yourself incapable of looking away from his eyes as he began to coach you through deep breaths, your body relaxing as the oxygen settled within you and thanking this man by relaxing into the safety of his grasp. When your breathing steadied enough you clenched your eyes closed, tears spilling onto his hands. At another time, in another place, he’d have licked the salty liquid off to sample what you had to offer, but here, in front of these cameras, he was intent on being your perfect hero. 
“Thank you, Homelander,” you managed out with a shaky, unused voice that caused his eyes to close, his fingertips to sink into your skin at your cheeks just a little deeper before he remembered himself and stepped away, swallowing a whine at the loss of warmth beneath his hands. His eyes opened again to meet yours and he gave you his best smile, one that you couldn’t deny made your heart skip a beat, despite where you were and what you’d lived through the days prior. 
“I need you to go to Vought to file a report…to have photos taken of your condition…before we can get you home. The best doctors in the city will take care of you if anything is wrong,” he spoke dutifully, like he had done this a million times because he had , but this time it was more important to him than ever to ensure his words carried weight. To ensure that you felt the safety of him. He dropped his voice lower to continue, “I will be there to take care of you every step of the way.”
All you could do was nod and relinquish yourself to this man – this man who you knew was so dangerous. The reasonable voice in the back of your mind was screaming at you to remember your hatred for him but the horrible, terrified part of your soul that longed to be cared for latched itself onto him, anchoring into the act he was putting on display for you. He steadied you against his frame just as he had before to escort you to a black suv, helping you into the backseat before leaning against the roof to speak into the car to you. 
“These drivers will take good care of you,” his voice was soft, reassuring, coaxing you into relaxation you craved as you felt the first soft surface against your body in days. He noticed how your features relaxed and a light smile played out on his lips briefly. “I will meet you at the Vought medical center when you arrive. I’ll arrive before you.”
“N-no,” your voice was louder than it had been before, desperate to silence the plan he had in mind. Your hand reached out to grab anything you could on his suit, and when the fabric wouldn’t give your hand found its way to his shoulder, grasping like he may disappear at your fingertips at any moment. “Please.”
You were tired and it was all you could manage, but he didn’t need to hear more than those two words from you to understand what you wanted of him – what you needed of him. Your eyes were once again widened with worry, and he found himself slipping into the backseat of the car next to you, shooting a look to the cameras as he went. He didn’t know why he did it – perhaps it would make him look good to be with a victim every step of the way, gain him more points with women. Deep down, however, the supe knew that the real reason he found himself riding in a fucking car to Vought for the first time in so long was because you had choked out the most broken, desperate ‘please’, and he just couldn’t bring himself to refuse you what you wanted. 
It wasn’t long into the drive that Homelander was rewarded for his desperate ploy for your attention when you succumbed to the comfort of the vehicle, falling asleep with light breaths cascading from your lips as your head rolled from the headrest to his shoulder. He’d never felt more justified in his actions than in this moment. He started dreading moving you away from him prematurely, and instructed the drivers to take a longer route. He deserved this moment to last as long as he wanted it to. 
When he was content with the length of the drive, content with the way you seemed to melt into his side as your sleep deepened, he allowed the drivers to return to Vought, where he gently reached a hand up to touch your cheek, voice gentle as he spoke your name to bring you back to consciousness. Forgetting your safety momentarily you jolted awake, hand shooting out to grab his where you clutched it against your face, eyes finding his and realizing yourself again. His hand melted against your cheek and he didn’t mind your grasp around it in the slightest – it’s not like you could ever hurt him or stop him if you really wanted to, and your hands were soft. 
Giving you a moment to center yourself and taking obvious, deep breaths beside you, in this proximity he enjoyed the flecks of color in your eyes and the freckles that formed constellations across your nose and cheeks. He hadn’t noticed these smaller details about you before, and he wondered how many more small details he could find decorating your body, but he once again pushed the thought down before he became too eager. His performance of the day was far from over. 
He released your face from his gentle hold and exited the vehicle first, shooting a look over to the crowds of people holding cameras and phones to see their favorite hero do what he did best. As the door opened you heard the noise from the building again and your breath seemed to catch in your throat again. The bewildered, frantic look returned to your eyes that reminded Homelander of an animal stuck in the path of a predator, and he exhaled deeply, turning back to face the crowd and analyze the best way to address this situation. He’d never turn cameras away from capturing his glory, but you needed to be taken care of by him. 
He offered his hand to you again to direct you to exit the car. You hesitated, unwilling to feel crushed by the weight of the world around you outside of the vehicle, but ultimately slipped your hand into his and allowed him to assist you off of the comfort of the soft seat. His eyes flickered down into yours as he kept you between the car and himself, blocking you from the cameras that awaited your arrival. What a world you lived in where you couldn’t be rescued from being kidnapped without your image being everywhere.
“We’re going to have to walk past them,” he spoke low and direct, leaving no room for a counterargument to his plan. All you could do was stare up into his eyes, surrendering to the fact that you would ultimately listen to whatever he asked of you, not that he really asked. “If you trust me, I can make it more comfortable for you.”
Your head bobbed in a nod before you really thought about what you were agreeing to, unsure still due to the lack of details until he pulled you under his arm, keeping a firm hand around your shoulders as he used his other hand to reach down and wrap his cape up to cover you, shielding you from the harsh world. He smiled his most dashing smile for any cameras he could, all the while speaking soft praises about how well you were doing as the two of you walked toward the building. Several times he declined to stop for a selfie with those who asked, stating that he had a more important job to focus on right now. 
This was definitely why millions of people loved him. This is why people had spent the past year relentlessly attacking you online, saying you had no idea what you were talking about when it came to your criticisms of him. You had said so many horrible things about him and yet today he ripped a door from its hinges from you, and now he was ensuring you made it into the privacy of the building without slipping into another state of panic. He was a hero. Right now he was your hero. 
Once inside he released you from under his cape and spun you back around to face him, his hand resting on your shoulder as his eyes met your face again, scanning for any sign of discomfort. The two of you were immediately joined by a team of people, primarily medical professionals and the Vought equivalent of detectives who started to maneuver you into an elevator. You desperately reached for his forearm, not ready to let him go and relinquish the safety net that he had enveloped you in. He was happy to oblige your need for him and he stepped next to you, mentally noting how your fingernails sank into his skin. He could get used to that.
He stayed next to you for the majority of the day after that. While you were being examined he’d gone to get you water – a whole 32 ounces of electrolyte balanced water and he’d asked you so nicely to drink it. After the medical examination and clearance (you had some bruises he definitely wasn’t privy to or happy about, but that could be addressed later), he’d gone to fetch you some wet wipes and a change of clean clothes, wishing for once that he had a real shirt to provide you with. Of course, he’d stashed your underwear in his suit instead of turning it in with the evidence…surely someone would ask, but it could be covered up. It could always be covered up for him. 
You’d been offered many places to stay tonight other than your own apartment – Maeve’s spare bedroom, Starlight even jumped in to offer her bed (she’d take the couch), Vought offered to pay for a hotel room after being urged to by Homelander. You’d passed on every offer, insisting that you wanted to sleep in your own bed, that you needed to use your shower. You did have one, simple request, however. 
“I…would feel better if you came with me, Homelander,” you’d barely spoken above a whisper, your voice still coarse undoubtedly from the screaming you’d certainly done throughout your ordeal. He couldn’t stop the light smirk that fell across his features at your request, his ego feeling the boost of your desire for him. “If you could check my doors…and windows.”
And so he had escorted you home, once again joining you in the back of an SUV and once again enjoying the heat passing between the closeness of your bodies. Walking into the confines of your apartment punched him in the face with the overwhelming scene of you everywhere, all around him, and he had to close his eyes in the doorway to pull himself together before he set off on his final job of the night – making you feel safe in his absence. 
The door was checked twice, and he pointed out that he would have the locks changed the next day. Each and every window was inspected top to bottom, locked and pulled on, and checked for any cracks before he returned to where you sat on the couch, curled into the corner with a glass of wine in your hand, staring at nothing, your mind actually miles away. He moved to the side of the couch and crouched down, reaching out to touch your arm gently to coax you from your trance. With another jump your eyes found his and a relieved breath passed through your lips. 
“Everything is locked tight…no one is getting in here. I put my phone number on your nightstand…just in case,” he was choosing to act so nonchalant but in actuality his insides were marveling at the way you seemed to be holding on to his every word. Your eyes found his again and he could see the conflict in them, and briefly considered asking you to stay with him, to allow him to protect you…but he knew you’d say no. Staying with him would be too much on top of the last four days. “Try to sleep tonight, your body needs it.”
You nodded and finished the glass in one swift drink, setting the glass on the coffee table before turning your head to look back up at him again, contemplating the questions in your mind that you weren’t entirely ready to face. As you attempted to stand your knees gave out, muscles caving to the pain from sleeping on the concrete floor and from walking the most you had in days for hours. Luckily your hero was there and he had the best reflexes on the planet, and he only had to reach out one arm across your waist to stabilize you, pulling you close to his chest in the process to ensure you didn’t actually fall. As he looked down at you his eyebrows furrowed so quickly a camera would miss it in a genuine show of concern for you. 
“If I leave here tonight, are you going to start falling all over the place?”
You couldn’t help the light laugh that left you with a huff of breath through your nose, and you shook your head, rolling your eyes at his light humor. Laughing at him and enjoying his attention felt wrong, but the part of you that craved his protection shoved the guilt down. “Maybe you can just help me to bed? I probably won’t move once I’m there.”
With a nod he faced you forward and took his place by your side, wrapping an arm across your lower back to steady you as he took you to bed, head swimming with the many different ways he’d rather be carrying out this task – but to truly win you over, he needed to be kind. A gentleman. A true American hero – and he had practice. Once you were comfortably laying against the familiarity of your own bed you released the most delicious, pleasured breath from your lips and Homelander’s heart wrenched at the sound, filled with the desire to work those sounds from you himself. He kneeled next to the bed, face close to yours, eyes serious as he wished you a goodnight in the best way he could while playing this role. 
“I will catch the man that did this to you,” he assured, and noted how your eyes seemed to melt at his declaration of intent to seek justice for you. “And I will make sure he can never hurt you again.”
It had been four days since Homelander had left you alone that night. You opted to stay home, only leaving the walls of your apartment to meet delivery drivers for food. Going to the grocery was not something you were quite ready to tackle. To your surprise, Homelander had not returned (to your knowledge, at least – in actuality he had returned every day, sometimes twice a day, just to peek through that wide open window and hope to see a glance of you) since he’d brought you home that night. While you repeatedly reminded yourself that he was likely trying to capture whomever had done this to you. 
Even still, you found your mind frequently wandering to him – wondering when you’d see him again, swallowing the disgust you felt toward yourself for wanting to see him again, thinking about how safe it felt to be held against him. This fourth night was particularly difficult – you were lonely, yet weren’t ready to face the questions of your usual friends or leave your apartment, for that matter. As you settled yourself onto the couch for yet another old black-and-white film, a knock at the door caused your heart to jump and your stomach to sink. Standing and walking toward the door cautiously, you decided to use your voice before unlocking the new locks that had been installed three days before. Just because Homelander hadn’t been around didn’t mean he wasn’t upholding promises. 
“Who is it?” You tried to sound intimidating, you really did, but the fear was rising in your torso and settling in your chest and you suddenly felt like you weren’t breathing enough at all. You tried to suck in a steady breath, remembering the way Homelander had taught you to do so just days before, as the voice you most wanted to hear sounded through the door.
“I wanted to let you know I found the man,” he stated simply, ignoring the question you’d asked altogether. You didn’t need him to answer it, anyway – the moment you recognized the familiar ring of his voice you were unlocking the doors, and were soon face to face with him. You gulped as you realized this must have been recent, as he was covered in dirt, and a mixture of blood and sweat painted his face and caused pieces of his hair to cling to places it normally didn’t. He continued as you opened the door and his eyes met yours, “he fired a gun at me, so I had to eliminate the threat. He won’t be bothering you again.”
You released that breath you’d been trying to focus on and leaned against the door frame, closing your eyes to take in the news for a moment. Maybe you could go outside again. Maybe you didn’t have to be so afraid. Maybe you’d never meet another man like that again – one willing to create this fear in you. Maybe Homelander would always be around to protect you now. 
And he would. Mentally he knew that now. He couldn’t stay away despite any effort he put into the task. Yesterday he’d told himself he would only stop by your apartment once to check-in on you, needing to put some distance there, needing to get over this infatuation he had. Instead, he’d shown up at your apartment four times that day, finding himself rubbing his cock fiercely and coming over a photo he’d printed of you and him – it had printed in the newspaper and was of the day he rescued you, with his hands cupping your face as he reminded you how to breathe. He was trying to stay away from you, from this human who had created such a response in him, but he couldn’t help himself any longer. He needed your attention, he needed your gratification, he needed to hear you praise him…he needed you to need him. 
And so he’d done what thousands of other men have done in history: he murdered a man to impress and win a woman. He reached out a gloved hand to you to lightly tap your chin, asking you without words to look at him. He needed you to look him in the eyes – he needed to see how you flushed under his attention. You granted his wish and he noticed the tears in your eyes, tears that appeared not to be from sadness, but from gratification. Of relief. Of sheer joy. And it was all because of him. 
“Thank you. I don’t know what to say other than…thank you,” you were bashful under this intense gaze from him and tucked a loose piece of hair behind your ear, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he gave you a smile somewhat different from his normal – somewhat genuine. Somewhat natural. He couldn’t stop himself from catching the tear that fell from one of your eyes on his gloved finger, and he fawned at the way your lips fell open at that simple gesture. His mind could only wonder what your reactions to more serious actions from him would be. Ignoring the thick tension between you he leaned slightly closer, his arm resting above yours on the door frame, towering over you. 
His eyes met yours as he spoke, the smell of him entering your senses – the sweat, the dirt, the blood, but something else there…something alluring. You had to swallow the thought down as his suddenly unscripted, unpracticed, uncalculated words slipped an invitation to hell with him into your ears. “To thank me…you could come to a Vought fundraiser. Tomorrow night. It’s short notice, but I want you there.”
Your lips parted in that way that made them look so kissable again, and he had to resist the urge to dip his head down and sink his teeth into that tempting bottom lip. You seemed to accept that you were in no position to deny him, in no position to question anything he could ask when he’d proven to be your hero, proven to keep his word to you…you would never be able to say another bad thing about him again, and you knew that. He had ensured that the world knew he was your savior, and truthfully, you didn’t mind. He was your hero. He had righted the wrong that was done against you. 
You nodded and tucked another falling piece of hair behind your ear, breathing in the scent of him again and beginning to feel slightly warmer than normal under this intensity of his gaze. “If you have someone send me details, I’ll make sure I’m there. Since…you asked so nicely,” he smiled again as you spoke and you couldn’t help but swoon at these genuine smiles he was giving you so freely right now, wondering how many other people got to see them. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow to…make sure I know what to do?”
You’d call him. The words repeated themselves in his head as he nodded. They repeated themselves for the hours that passed before he spoke to you in the morning. A dress would be at your apartment that afternoon. A car would pick you up for the event at 5:45. The event started at 6:30. And so the hours passed as both of you prepared for the event, both of your minds occupied with the possibilities an evening like this could hold – both of you unsure what these thoughts you were having meant. 
Homelander had followed through and sent you everything you needed – including a dress that felt far too expensive for you, shoes, and a necklace that had the most beautiful, unique white gemstone cut into its center. It was all far too expensive – far too nice – for you, and you elected to opt out of wearing the necklace, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all of the extravagant gifts. It was easier to collect yourself, to remember the stance you’d had on him for over a year now, when you weren’t frozen in his gaze. If you knew the truth of the desecration that went into Homelander’s chosen attire for you – that he’d rubbed the dress all over his body to cover you in his scent and that the unique gemstone was actually his cum encased and designed to look like a gem – the grand gestures would seem so wholesome and kind. In his mind, however, this was affection…or at least a form of affection he could provide. 
He, of course, arrived at the event far before you did, far before most people did, but immediately began his waiting game for you, itching to see how you looked in the dress he’d chosen for you. When he caught a glimpse of someone’s watch, his jaw briefly clenched, despite the mask he was trying to present to the world right now. 
Where were you? He couldn’t pay attention to whatever this dumb whore was talking about because his mind was burning with questions – were you just running it dangerously close to being late, or were you not truly coming at all? Just as the rage started to bubble in his stomach a new heartbeat entered the room and his head immediately turned to find its owner. When he saw you, he couldn’t have taken his eyes off of you if he wanted to. He gently moved shoved the woman who had been trying to work for his attention out of the way so nothing was in the way of your view of him as you made your way further – closer to him. 
It wasn’t that he was particularly stylish, but he understood what made people look good, and that fact was proven once again by the way that the dress he’d chosen for you made you look tonight. The thin, metallic gold fabric clung and flowed around your body in a way that mimicked liquid. The v-cut line gave enough away to inspire Homelander to drag his tongue across his lips and stand a little taller, but kept enough up to the imagination that he didn’t feel the need to rip the heads off of every man who looked at you. 
But you got closer and more of his senses kicked in, and he soon realized his earlier actions had been rewarded and you smelled so deliciously like him , mixed with the sweet scent of you. As the scent consumed him his cock twitched in his pants and he had to force a smile to cover the real things he was feeling, though anyone would be a fool to think he, or anyone else for that matter, would feel differently looking at you right now. You moved so gracefully, so lavishly as you made your way to him, a small smile dancing on your lips despite your best efforts. It wasn’t often you held the attention of the most famous man in the world.
There were too many eyes on you that weren’t his own and though there was comfort in the delicious mingling of your scents, he needed the room to know you looked this way for him tonight. You wore this dress for him, you’d clearly had your hair done for him, you were wearing the perfect shade of red on your lips for him…it was all for him. You were all for him. Maintaining what slight composure he could hold over himself when you looked like this, he covered the distance between the two of you and looked down at you over his nose, his blue eyes sparkling with something sinister as you looked up at him. 
“I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to show,” his confession caused you to still, your mind still not quite able to process these niceties from him, unable to comprehend that you may have been wrong about him. Giving you his best smile he enticed you to fall deeper into his trap, like a bee clumsily finding her way into a venus fly trap. He offered his arm to you and despite the parts of your brain screaming no you took it, wrapping your hands to clasp together around his bicep. His gloved hand found its way to your lower back, where the dress dipped to right above the curve of your ass, and he made a mental note to himself to take his gloves off at some point in the evening. “You didn’t like the necklace I sent you?”
Your cheeks burned red as you started walking with him, highly aware of all the eyes on the two of you as you made your way to the front of the room where a small stage awaited, surely, him. You shook your head and glanced up at him, voice still soft and timid since your ordeal. It only made him make another mental note – to find a way to make you be louder later. “Oh, it was lovely, I just…”
“Didn’t appreciate it?” 
It was, in some ways, the same arrogant tone that he always used and yet different – insecure, questioning, maybe even a little frightened, and certainly much quieter than usual, much more intentionally for you alone. Your eyes glanced up to his face to find him facing forward, jaw set in a harsh way you hadn’t seen on him in person yet. He always looked so happy, so pleasant, so perfect around you…but now, he looked like a man fighting his own battles like everyone else. 
“I loved it. It was so lovely. Everything is so…lovely,” fell from your lips in a desperate plea for his face to soften, for him to lighten the tension passing between the two of you. His features faltered slightly and his eyes glanced down at you briefly before r eturning to his hardened position. You lowered your voice to ensure only he could hear you. “Everything smelled so…good…when I opened the box from you earlier. That was a nice…touch.”
His lips parted slightly as his head turned down to look at you, shock written clearly across his face from your words of praise for him, in front of all of these people. When he remembered the surrounding guests he closed his mouth but immediately smiled, turning his eyes forward again to lead you abruptly to the right, away from the crowd. Sucking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, Homelander chuckled softly, shaking his head slightly. 
“You have no idea what you just did to me,” his voice was low, rumbling, and yet dripping with desperation as he led you away from the event. Finally reaching an elevator he dragged you inside, pressing the button for the floor he needed. Waiting for the elevator to rise for a moment he connected his fist with the emergency stop before turning to face you, placing your body between the wall and him. His eyes dragged down you so slowly as he leaned forward to inhale deeply, allowing a quiet groan to slip through his lips as he exhaled. “You should smell this way all of the time.”
Your body seemed to reach a boiling point immediately at his words, at how close he was, and how he felt like he was staring straight into you, examining exactly what made you tick – it was the only explanation for how he seemed to know exactly what the worst parts of you were crying for deep within. Pulling a glove from one hand he reached out to drag his fingers along your clavicle before flattening his hand at the base of your throat, sliding it up to grasp your jaw and tilt your head back to look at him fully. As he slipped his hand around your head and into your hair he dropped his voice again, “who do you look so gorgeous for tonight? Who made you show up looking so delicious?”
“You,” the affirmation came out as the saddest, most desperate moan that had ever passed through your lips and he smiled, his fingers gripping your hair at the back of your head and bringing you closer to his face. His eyes darted across your face, paying particular attention to your lips, as his free hand reached behind to start the elevator again. “Where…are you taking me?”
“Wherever I want,” was the reply that came from his mouth, quickly dismissing any idea of argument you had in your mind. He leaned his face closer to yours and breathed in deeply, groaning when the elevator door opened. Stepping away from you he gestured for you to exit ahead of him. “Through the door down the hall.”
For a moment part of your brain that was probably correct told you to refuse, to stay on the elevator and take it back down to the event you were here for, to avoid whatever Homelander was shepherding you toward. Your feet, and the embarrassing heat growing in your stomach from how he’d touched you and groaned for you betrayed your brain and delivered you exactly where he’d desired – The Seven meeting room. 
Ignoring the door entirely and closing the distance between you when the realization hit he grabbed you by the back of your head again, voice quiet as he spoke, “why can’t you say nice things about me all of the time, hmm?”
His hand that wasn’t tangling fingers into your hair snaked its way down to your side, pulling you flush against him to which you both released a strangled, breathy moan. The room was on fire and you felt like your skin was melting as he walked you backward toward the table, forcing you to sit on the surface when you got exactly where he wanted you. Leaning over you fully he gave you no time to protest as his lips sought yours in desperation, releasing another groan at the feeling. Everything about him was pulling you in, anchoring you into him further and further and you couldn’t stop yourself from returning his kiss – from giving him what he wanted. 
He didn’t ask to slip his silver tongue into your mouth but you didn’t deny him it either as his hand slid from your hip up to your left breast, squeezing firmly and moaning into your mouth once again. You pulled back, desperate for air right as his fingers pinched your nipple through the fabric of the dress he’d given you, and the most earnest of moans slipped from your mouth as your eyes rolled back, desperately grasping the edge of the table with your fingers. His voice was hurried, flustered, needy and yet so commanding, so precise as he leaned forward to speak in your ear, “you need to take this fucking dress off right now before I tear it to shreds. And I will.”
Your heart skipped and you felt how he huffed out a laugh against your neck briefly before pressing his lips against your neck, eliciting another moan from you. This was all it took from him to make you come undone? He chuckled again as he dragged his lips lower, to that tender spot where your neck and shoulder met where he dragged his teeth lightly, breathing in deeply. Your voice could hardly reach you when you managed out a hurried, “I…I’m not sure if…if this is okay, if we should…be doing this.”
The sound that left him was nothing more than a growl as he stood back over you, narrowing his eyes and shaking his head. His eyes had become the ocean on a stormy night and he looked so dangerous, so much like a predator as he looked down at you, releasing his hold on the back of your head and sliding both hands to your hips. His voice was low, matter-of-fact and offered no hint of compromise as he repeated himself, “you need to take this fucking dress off. Right now. Before I tear it…to little…tiny…shreds. And I will.”
Your hands had already found the zipper at your side before he finished speaking and you lowered it, trying to shimmy the tight fabric down your body as you sat, unwilling to tell him you needed help. He was more observant than that and saw your struggle, lifting you to your feet and effortlessly lifting you up, smirking as the dress fell down your body. Sitting you back on the table he took a step back, drinking in the sight of you on his fucking team’s table. He crossed his arms, raising a hand to rest his chin on it as he looked at you in adoration before continuing with a lighter tone. “That’s better. We just have one thing to talk about.”
As your mind instantly went into a state of mild panic at what he could possibly want to talk to you about he moved to run his hands to your thighs, giving them a squeeze. You couldn’t help but moan quietly and found yourself unable to voice your protests as he used his knee to bump your legs apart, running the hand that remained gloved to your core, slipping it into your panties. As the gloved finger found your clit he pressed firmly, earning another desperate cry from your lips as your eyes widened up at him. He smiled his false innocent smile and rubbed that same finger in a circle, pausing when exactly one circle had been completed. 
“You have said so many mean, ugly things about me on that little podcast of yours,” his voice was laced with disappointment, with genuine anger and a whininess you weren’t aware he could speak with. He rubbed another circle and finally took direction from the gasp that fell from your lips to slip his gloved middle finger down and straight into your pussy. You momentarily clenched at the intrusion but when the sweetest whimper fell from your lips he smirked, and removed the finger all too quickly. “I think I have been the perfect gentleman to you, and I would appreciate it if that depressing podcast could be erased. All of it.”
He reached to switch hands and slid his ungloved hand into your panties, immediately slipping his index finger into you as his gloved hand reached your mouth and he stuck the finger that had been inside you moments ago into your own mouth, groaning at the dumbstruck look that formed on your features as you tasted yourself. Keeping his finger in your mouth he forced your head to nod by placing his thumb under your chin and he looked so proud of himself as he added a second finger and began pumping them in and out of you, cherishing the flustered sounds of mild protest that came from your lips. 
“That’s right, just agree. There’s no use telling me no,” his voice was teasing, low and laced with a sinister tone as he began pistoning his fingers in and out of you, looking down to watch how the digits disappeared within your tight, slick cunt. When he curled his fingers to rub the spongy patch deep within you the moan that left your mouth around his fingers was your loudest yet and he smirked, the blue pools eyes flickering back up to yours. “You sound so fucking pretty for me. Tell me how it feels.“
He removed his finger from your mouth so you could have free reign of your responses now, and he slid that now free hand back to your chest. He cupped a breast in his hand as his head followed the pursuit, leaning to slowly flick his tongue across your nipple, earning a gasp from both of you. You knew if you didn’t respond to his orders he was just going to get angry. “God, Homelander…your fingers feel so good. You’re so good at that.”
Your words of praise went through him like a knife and with a wanton groan his mouth attached itself to your breast, suckling your nipple and flicking his tongue across the sensitive nub as his fingers continued their assault. His fingers pumping in and out of your cunt were causing the most downright pornographic noises from your body as you continued to grow impossibly wetter, your body preparing for the sweet high of release. When his thumb connected with your clit and began rubbing rushed circles he removed his mouth from your breast to look deep into your eyes. 
“I want you to come for me before you take my cock,” was his simple statement as his fingers inside you curled again, hellbent on discovering what made you come undone for him. He could feel your clenching walls around his fingers and the moans falling from your lips told him he’d have you under his spell. “I want you to tell me you’ll delete the podcast, and I’ll let you come, and then I’ll reward you with my cock.”
You couldn’t stop his name leaving your mouth as a moan which only pushed him further — only made him want you even more. With a low growl the speed his fingers were moving picked up as he connected his lips to your neck again, sucking softly at the skin over your pulse. If they didn’t know already, everyone downstairs would certainly know who you belonged to when you returned with his purple masterpieces covering your neck, chest, and shoulders. As the building feeling deep within you reached the point of no return your walls clenched around him and you whined as his fingers left you fully, his eyes glancing up expectantly at you. He wasn’t going to continue without you giving him what he wanted. 
“P-please don’t stop,” were the desperate words that left your mouth as you planted a half kiss against his lips, your breath still leaving you in gentle pants. The heat inside your core was too much and being on the edge wasn’t enough — you needed him to push you. “I’ll delete it. You can delete it, we can delete it just please let me come for you.”
You weren’t coming for yourself, you were coming for him, and your confession earned his fingers entering into you again as he groaned, leading you toward your orgasm as he reached to work his cock free from his pants. With a cracking moan your walls clenched impossibly tighter around his fingers as your orgasm washed over you, panting breaths falling from your lips as the world seemed to melt around you. There was no time to waste (he did have a speech to make, after all) and the moment your orgasm finished you found his fingers exiting to make way for the head of his cock slipping into you. You’d hear the grunt that fell from his lips into your ear for the rest of your life. 
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he praised, his eyes never leaving the sight of inch by inch of his cock disappearing into you as you moaned again, your hands grasping his shoulders in an attempt to steady yourself. If there was any point in arguing you’d tell the man he had to wear a condom, but you knew giving him orders would be futile. His thumb still attached to your clit rubbed a circle again, his lips meeting yours in a gentler kiss as he bottomed out within you, groaning as the head of his cock pushed at your cervix. Surprisingly, he did still to allow your body to adjust to his impaling. “Tell me how it feels.”
His words were desperate, pleading against your lips as one of his hands gripped your waist impossibly hard, surely leaving more purple in their path. The feeling of him stretching yours wall combined with this being the first you’d felt an unprotected cock inside of you had your chest tight, your heartbeat fluttering as you searched for the words he deserved. The words left your mouth in a pleasured sigh. “You feel perfect inside of me, Homelander . Please, please move.”
He didn’t need to be told twice. No longer needing to see how your face reacted to him claiming you, he forced you to flip on the table, your stomach against the cold material as he began to thrust in and out of you, his hips finding the pace that worked for you both almost immediately. His groans were damning and your moans only matched his sin as you pushed back into him, coaxing him to use your cervix as a punching bag. 
One of his hands maintained its position at your waist as the other slid to connect with your neck, moving it to loosely wrap around your throat. The gasp that fell from your lips at the slight pressure of his hand told him to move faster and he did, plummeting into you like this was the only time he’d get to claim you. Without words the two of you knew that would never be the case. You were his now. 
“That’s a good girl,” he purred out as he leaned down to connect his lips to your shoulder blade, sucking a mark in the spot for good measure. You took his praise as scripture and pushed back into him again, earning a deeper angle that resulted in a groan to erupt from his chest again. “That’s my good girl. My golden girl. Are you going to come for me again?”
You could only moan as his hand that had been on your hip slid south to reconnect a thumb to your swollen clit, beginning to rub relentlessly against the nub as his cock continued to be milked by your cunt. It was a good thing you had an implant, because convincing this man to spill his cum anywhere other than deep within you would have been pointless. To him, the best reward he could give you when you were being so good for him was his hot load deep within you. You should be so lucky to have his seed inside you. 
“Yes,” you managed to breath out, your words hinting at your desperation for another release. His grasp on your neck tightened and despite that you fought to coax him toward his own finish alongside you. “You feel so good. You fuck me just right. P-please give me your cum, Homelander.”
The sound that erupted from him was probably best described as a roar as he picked up his pace, trying to remind himself not to break you but unable to stop the ferocity at which he began pounding into you. As the world shrunk to only this room and the two of you in it the euphoric state began to wash over you once again and you felt your walls clench around him, his name leaving your mouth as a scream. Hoping that everyone downstairs could hear you, hear what he was doing to you, he gave another harsh thrust before painting your walls with his cum, his movements becoming sloppy as he worked every last drop out of himself. 
When he was certain he’d finished he removed himself from you, tucking his cock within his pants and grabbing your panties from around your ankles and raising them to their rightful place again just as his seed began to leak from you. His hand found its way to your cheek and his thumb brushed a gentle line across your cheekbone, his lips lowering to yours in a kiss. His words showed no sign of tiredness from his time with you.
“You’re going to keep those panties on and my cum is going to stay in them all night,” he placed another kiss to the corner of your mouth before continuing. “We’re going to go downstairs, we’re going to be the perfect couple for these fucking ingrates, and then you’re going to take me to your apartment so we can delete that podcast.”
As you re-entered the elevator with him your eyes connected with the smashed emergency stop button before drifting back up to him, soaking in the proud look that covered his face as he leaned against the elevator wall. A realization washer over you as your eyes cling to him like a sculpture in a museum — you were completely fucked.
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Fucked, as it turned out, was a slight understatement. The moment the elevator doors had opened and the two of you stepped out he had wrapped an arm securely around your waist, holding you against him as he made his way back to the center of the room where a round stage was awaiting him. The event had gone on in your absence and the room was full to the brim with Supes and people kissing their asses. 
There was no rush to his step as he proudly displayed you to everyone who could see, stopping to say hello and make pleasant, drawn out introductions to seemingly anyone who asked. His arm maintained its hold around your waist the entire time, his fingers occasionally pressing harder into you. The purple hickeys decorating your neck and shoulders went unnoticed by none.
By the time you made it to the center of the room it was time for him to give his speech, and he made sure to give your side a brief squeeze before leaving you next to The Deep…one of the only idiots he still felt he truly had control of. His eyes connected perfectly with camera after camera as he monologued for several minutes about the honor it was to protect New York City. When it was clear he was wrapping things up he stepped to the edge of the stage in front of you, his eyes meeting yours once more as he tapped your nose.
“Mostly, I have to say the best part about the job is getting to save the beautiful people of this city,” he practically cooed, his gloved hand cupping your face in a gesture that caused the cameras around you to flash and several voices to "aw."
There were immediately noticeable perks to being this close to Homelander, and even you couldn’t ignore him. People were more respectful to you, and consistently prepared to shower you with compliments at his prompt – “Doesn’t she look so lovely tonight?”. Men kept their eyes anywhere away from anywhere that wasn’t your face, afraid what offering true appreciation toward you would bring unto them. You were constantly brought snacks on trays to choose from and had three glasses of champagne before he decided to cut you off.
“I don’t need my golden girl sloppy for me tonight,” he tutted quietly, leaning from behind you so his mouth nearly connected with your ear. You could hear the smile in his voice that formed when your heart rate picked up and goosebumps decorated your skin. “I hope you haven’t forgotten that I’m not done with you.”
It was only a mere two hours before he decided it was time for the two of you to leave. It took a considerable amount of back and forth between the two of you before he conceded to allow you to take a car back to your place. As he helped you into the back of the SUV with a hand on the small of your back he pressed a firm kiss to the side of your head, leaning in to buckle you into the seat. His voice was once again lower, free of the light lilt he used to be camera ready.
“You know,” just those two words dripped with sarcasm and you knew whatever was to follow would match. “You’d be safer flying with me than driving around in these big metal death boxes. Some junkie could hit you with a truck…and what, you really think I’m going to drop you?”
A soft laugh fell from his lips before he pressed a final kiss to your forehead, withdrawing from the car before taking off into the sky. Finally alone you released a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, laying your head back and closing your eyes as you soaked in these moments alone, processing the evening. The more familiar your surroundings became the more your worries grew, remembering what he had promised to do. Your heart was pounding by the time you stepped out of the car, the cool air sending a chill down your spine.
From the sidewalk you could see the silhouette of Homelander standing on your rooftop, awaiting your arrival with his arms crossed firmly behind his back. You were certain he could hear you as you made your way inside, leaning against the wall of the elevator and preparing yourself for what awaited you – not that anything could really prepare you for what awaited you. When you exited the elevator and rounded the corner toward your apartment you nearly froze at the sight of your door wide open, his star-spangled back waiting for you in the doorway already. 
When you approached the doorway yourself he finally turned, his eyebrows pulled together and his mouth set in a hard line. The annoyance in his voice was evident, and now that you were truly alone his voice was free of any mask. As you closed the door his right hand raised, the necklace he had sent to you dangling from his fingertips, his gloves having been placed on one of your counters.
“I wished this was on you all night,” his voice rumbled in your ears as he stepped closer to you, circling around you much like a predator. As he stepped around behind you he brushed your hair away from your neck, placing himself right up against your backside. “Hold up your hair so I can see how perfect you could have looked.”
Your cheeks burned hot as you reached behind yourself to lift your hair into your hand, your fingers shaking lightly with the nervousness of the situation. The metal of the necklace was cool against your skin as he placed the delicate chain around your neck, fastening it with little fuss. His hands slid across your shoulders and down your arms before turning you to face him, his eyes eagerly dragging downward toward your chest.
His hands reached to grasp your hips, pulling you forward toward him with a hum of approval as he soaked in the experience that was you wearing exactly what he wanted and already covered by purple hickeys from him. Lowering his head he crashed his lips into yours, grasping you tighter as if he feared you may try to stop him – not that you could. Your lips were still tender and lightly bruised from your earlier kisses and yet you pushed yourself to return his kiss, unwilling to leave him feeling rejected. 
As his tongue worked your lips open one of his hands slid to work the zipper to your dress, eager to see you on full display for him again. As he tasted the remnants of champagne and chocolate on your tongue the dress fell to the floor, making up for you removing your heels by lifting you to his height with ease. As he pulled away from the kiss he released another hum of approval at the warmth of your body even through his suit – but it wasn’t enough. 
Taking a few steps further into your apartment he placed you on the kitchen island, spreading your thighs when you instinctively closed them. His voice was firm, commanding, and somehow laced with desperation as he took a few steps away from you, beginning to remove his suit. “That bra and those panties better be off by the time I make my way back over there…” he huffed out, his eyes now cloudy with lust as he watched your fingers immediately set in on the task. 
When you released your breasts from their restraints and tossed the fabric to the side you noticed how his hands faltered, his breath catching at the full sight of your breasts accompanied by the necklace hanging just above them. Running his eyes down you again he removed his own boots, lifting the torso of his suit up and off with slight hesitation. 
He hadn’t been barred to you this way before and he caught the way your breath caught in your throat and your heart rate skipped momentarily at the sight of him. The way your body responded to him was a sweet compliment, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the need he had to hear everything you were thinking. It was impossible to mask the desperation in his voice as he barked out another order to you, his voice slightly breathless. 
“Tell me what you think,” he begged, his blue eyes meeting yours as he worked his boots off, kneeling as he did so. It ended up being the perfect height for him to receive the beautiful view that was presented by you removing your panties and tossing them across the apartment. “About how I look without the suit.”
Feeling self conscious about how exposed you were to him as he stood up and dragged his eyes across your body you moved to play with your hair, aware covering yourself would make him angry. His hands moved to work his pants free from his body as you bit your lip, your cheeks heating up as he truly started to just look like a normal guy, albeit an incredibly attractive one. His eyebrows beginning to pull together again was your cue that you were taking too long to respond.
“You’re…a very attractive man, Homelander,” you breathed out, an unfamiliar tone of submission filling your voice. His pants dropped to the floor at your words and his cock sprang free, giving a slight twitch at your compliment. Your eyes met his and with that simple look you knew what you’d given wasn’t enough. At the same time, you found yourself unable to give more, unsure what words would be enough for him and still figuring out how to navigate around him. 
Resorting to a more universal language you beckoned him forward, your hands seeking out the firm muscles on his biceps to pull him closer to you as you placed a soft, experimental kiss to his chest. Tilting your head barely backward, your eyes sought his to find his filled with hunger, his hands finding your shoulders to hold you closer. Leaning downward he placed a firm kiss to your forehead which instantly buried your worries that you weren’t doing enough, only to have them reignited as he pulled you from the counter, carrying you across your apartment. You assumed he was headed toward your bed, but as he approached your desk and sat your ass against the cool glass top you were quickly reminded of his real reason for being here.
The podcast.
Sinking into the chair you’d spent so many hours of your life in he clicked your computer to life as his eyes scanned every inch of your torso that he was granted access to earlier in the evening. Keeping his right hand on the computer mouse he reached his other hand lazily to your chest, cupping one of your breasts and rubbing his thumb over the nipple as he pulled up various websites – your website, your YouTube channel, Twitter, and the DropBox you kept everything stored in. Once satisfied he had everything on the screen he needed he pulled you closer to the edge of the desk, sliding the chair to the side to sit in front of you. 
He hadn’t gotten the proper opportunity to showcase to you exactly how much he appreciated your breasts, and decided the podcast could wait just a few minutes longer while he took this moment to do so. His hands – almost lovingly – slid up your stomach to eventually cup both of your breasts, an appreciative hum rumbling in his chest at the feeling of the soft tissue beneath his fingertips. Satisfied that he couldn’t fit them in his hands fully he began to knead into them lightly eyes seeking yours again. 
His mouth pressed hot and wet kisses down the space between your breasts before he turned, eagerly taking your already hardened nipple into his mouth and circling the nub with his tongue. With a moan he began suckling, rolling your other nipple between his fingers in his other hand. He continued his attention on your breasts for a few moments before pulling his mouth away, dragging your nipple between his teeth as he did so. His voice was desperate, unhinged, and a tone you had only heard him use for you – in a way, it was special, and you recognized it as such.
“Come here, you remarkable little -” he tried to purr before he cut himself off, forgetting his intended term as he chose to suck a purple mark into the side of your breast, easing the brief pain with a light brush of his tongue across the skin.
Grasping his cock in his hand he motioned for you to come to him, which you found yourself almost eager to oblige. Climbing into his lap to straddle him you found the head of his cock slipped into you almost with ease as you were already embarrassingly wet from the attention he had been providing you with. A sinful groan slipped past his lips as your walls welcomed him in again, both hands grasping your hips to steady you. 
“So fucking tight,” he practically whined, lowering his face into your neck to make an attempt at covering such a pathetic noise. As you accepted inch by inch of him again another whine left his chest and his teeth brushed against the hollow of your neck before you’d taken all of him, his well-trimmed curls brushing against your clit. When he was completely inside you he reached behind you to press play on one of the podcast episodes, using his other hand to hold you still. He chuckled at your feeble attempt to move your hips against his, forgetting for a moment who was holding you. “I wish I could fuck you, sweetheart, but…we have to take care of this podcast first, don’t we? I wish we didn’t, but we do.”
You whined and stilled your attempt at movements as your eyes met his, a small nod giving him enough of a response at the current moment. Bringing your hands up to his shoulders you clutched to him, prepared to raise yourself off of him at his instruction. Another chuckle left his lips as he shook his head, his hand holding you down to him. His voice, while still low and desperate, was now full of affection and adoration as he spoke to you. 
“Oh no, baby…you’re staying right here, with me inside of you…feels too good,” he breathed out deep, leaning forward so your foreheads connected in a moment of what at any other time would be considered intimacy. Now, however, your own voice was filling your ears from the speakers of your computer, an episode of the podcast you’d made months ago playing in the background. “But you’re going to apologize for all of these mean things you’ve said about me.”
Almost on cue your voice from the past said words you remembered saying well – “Homelander is everything wrong with superheroes.” His eyes were pained as he heard the words once again, his head shaking. To his surprise, he didn’t even have to prompt the words from you. 
“I’m sorry, Homelander,” you breathed out quietly, closing your eyes tightly and anticipating an explosion from him as he withdrew his forehead from yours. With firm and swift movements he pushed your head against his shoulder, his fingers lacing into your hair to hold you against him as he focused his attention on deleting content.
It went on like that for over an hour, with him inside you, holding you closely and playing clips of your own words while you apologized to him with words, gentle kisses, and soft caresses. Eventually, there was only one episode left – and you recognized the episode from the title alone when he read it aloud. 
“This is what confuses me, darling,” he stated plainly, pulling your hair slightly to tilt your head back to fix your gaze on his. His other hand pressed play as his icy eyes met yours once again, his eyebrows furrowed in genuine confusion. “In parts of your podcast you say some really intelligent, hard-hitting stuff.”
“If there’s anyone on this planet who is a bigger fraud than Homelander it is Stan Edgar himself, who should absolutely be looked at for a litany of legal and ethical issues – yet somehow manages to live above everyone.”
“I was so proud of you the first time I heard you say that,” his words were genuine, the look in his eyes matching the tone as he brought one hand up to cup your cheek. He paused the podcast for a moment to brush his thumb across your cheek, his movements slow and intentional. “How could you possibly say something so intelligent, so brave for someone with no powers…only to follow it up with something as cruel as this.”
He didn’t need to press play for you to know the words you were about to hear from yourself.
“I do have to say that some days I just feel bad…because Homelander is definitely the result of someone who wasn’t hugged enough as a child.”
As soon as that phrase was done he pressed delete, removing the last of the official evidence of your podcast from the internet. His eyes stayed on yours and you noticed how his features twitched involuntarily, a trait that seemed to happen when he was attempting to cover an annoyance. Was there an apology that could suffice for that one?
“Homelander, I -”
“Shut up,” it was firm, unquestionable and even slightly threatening as he stood from the chair, keeping his hold on you steady so his cock remained buried in you as he made his way to your bed. To your surprise he laid on his back, allowing you to straddle his waist and lean over him. His eyes immediately went to your breasts, his tongue darting out to slicken his lips. “Do you want to apologize to me?”
“Yes,” your response was pathetically fast and little more than a whine, eager to do anything to take the edge off of his voice again. You would have never guessed his next words, nor would you have expected the dripping desperation in his tone. 
“Use my cock to come,” he whined, his hands now eagerly grabbing for your breasts to pull you closer, his mouth seeking the soft flesh of your breasts again. His face was mostly hidden by the flesh of your breasts as he ran his tongue over one of your nipples, his voice barely audible as he begged in a way he had done for so few in his life. “Please, take what you want just…tell me how good I am.”
Finally free to move as you pleased you immediately ground your waist down into his, moaning at the feeling of him finally moving inside you slightly. With a moan of his own he took the nipple he’d yet to pay attention to into his mouth, suckling eagerly and stealing a glance up into your face. As the two of you reached orgasms together, his eyes rolling back as his hands grasped your hips in an impossibly hard grasp, his hot seed painting your inner walls like his own personal art display. Finally releasing his mouth from your breast he whined quietly as his head leaned against your chest, soaking in a true moment of comfort. He had only experienced a few moments like these in his life, but this one was the most authentic, the most unscripted, and Homelander resigned himself to having at least a thousand more moments like these.
You had a new routine to get used to over the following weeks, and by the time December came around there was no leaving your apartment without the flash of cameras or strangers pretending they knew you. It was often too much, the attention and niceties you were paid everyday by people who weeks ago would never have paid any mind to you overwhelming you and making you wish for a moment to yourself. If you were lucky, Homelander would show up in these moments and instruct those around you to “stop their fussing”, adding another entry onto the perks of being with Homelander list.
In these beginning weeks he was being kind enough to allow you your own space still, and you had continued to sleep at your apartment, though it was seldom alone. Which is why when he told you that you’d be alone for two weeks while he accompanied a politician to Europe, it was almost panic-inducing to think about 14 days without him, and what that would mean for you. It wasn’t surprising when he instructed you that you’d spend the time in his apartment, which you had only briefly stopped into once thus far. He promised Ashley or The Deep would check-in on you daily and that you’d have everything you needed (except for him). 
The night before he left he had displayed a moment of fear and weakness for you again, this time choosing to act out the frustration by fucking you so hard on his couch you’d be forced to stay in Vought Tower for at least a couple of days. For the first three days he was rewarded for his efforts during your nightly calls to hear that you’d really stayed in his apartment thus far, lounging on the couch and whining that he’d bruised you with his “super dick” – you could hear the smile and pride in his voice at your words, though you hardly meant them as a compliment. On the fourth day you were in better spirits, and had apparently invited The Deep to stay around for dinner – it was the first time Homelander had been forced to feel jealous over you.
“Well, I guess you don’t need me to come home, then,” he tried to cover the pain in his voice with indifference, though at this point he couldn’t get away with that with you. Still, his pride insisted he try. “I guess you prefer The Deep’s company, hmm? You replaced me quickly.”
“There is no replacement for you, Homelander,” you’d cooed, instantly soothing over the insecurity he felt and reassuring him that he had truly won you. There was no fighting the smile that spread on his face as you giggled, continuing with your kindness toward him. “As if The Deep could ever compare to you – as if anyone could come close to you.”
That particular phone call had stretched out to over an hour of you giving into his need for reassurance, filling the passing time with compliments and wishes that he would come home – filling the passing time with whatever he needed. Thus far, you had mostly managed to avoid driving him too far to anger, and he did reward you lavishly by ensuring you continued to want for nothing. The phone call ended with you confirming you were still sore from your last morning together, which had made his cock twitch in his pants.
After a week of you still feeling sore he was beginning to worry that he may have taken it a bit too far, and had even nearly expressed such when you whined on the phone to him once again, but insisted that you would be fine. For one of the first times in his life Homelander was genuinely worried about someone, and opted to call you on the ninth day much earlier than he had thus far. He expected you to sound surprised, yes, but he didn’t expect you to not be in his apartment – and he especially didn’t expect you to not be alone. 
The voice he heard in the background of the phone call was clearly a man, and he was telling you he hoped you’d feel much better now. Despite the fact that Homelander desperately wanted to hear your voice he had hung up the phone immediately, leaving the boring, old ass building he was stationed in for the remainder of his trip to launch himself into the sky, his only focus returning to you – Vought and the entire U.S. government be damned. Seeing as you couldn’t get Homelander to answer your return call, you figured he must have gotten busy and had returned back to his apartment once your afternoon of errands was complete, intent on finally relaxing.
When he landed on the main balcony attached to his own apartment the sun had set, and yet none of the anger boiling within him had subsided. He stilled for a moment, focusing his ears on the sounds he could hear from inside. On the surface there was enough going on for him to know you were inside – a record from the 50s he recognized from you playing it before, the sounds of water filling a tub…you were inside relaxing in his apartment after having the audacity to betray him. Focusing deeper, he finally heard your heartbeat – alone – and the soothing rhythmic beat he’d grown to recognize and adore over the last few weeks nearly calmed him. Nearly.
Forcing the door open he stepped inside, his anger nearly faltered once more at the lingering smell of you overwhelmed him. Hearing the broken door had caused you to rise from the filling bath, turning the water off and clutching a towel around yourself as you walked with wet feet into the dark hallway, calling out a soft ‘hello’ into the night. You weren’t greeted with words – instead, from the darkness emerged two glowing red lights, and as they approached closer you backed yourself against a wall. 
The red glow against his features, all of which were hard set in clear annoyance and anger, made you remember the horrible things he was capable of, none of which you were equipped to handle. When you realized there was nowhere left for you to step, you closed your eyes, holding a deep breath as you prepared for whatever was to come. When you felt him in front of you you were certain your heart would burst, until you felt his hand on your cheek, and heard the pain behind his voice. 
“Who is the man you were with today? And don’t you dare fucking lie to me,” his fingertips dug into your skin lightly, your eyes still closed tight for fear you’d be met with glowing red. “I’ll know if you’re lying to me. Look at me.”
With an elevating heart rate you slowly forced your eyes open, and despite expecting your own pain, instead you were faced with his. His blue eyes were wide, contrasting to the harsh line of his mouth, and tears were threatening to spill down his cheeks. Where you had expected to find anger and harshness you were faced with the broken pieces of him, which only raised a further question – which was worse between his red-hot anger or his jagged, broken edges?
You began to raise your hands to his shoulders tentatively, your fingers shaking as your brain screamed at you to just stay still and answer him. Honesty, however, was not the only thing Homelander needed – he needed love, and the look behind his eyes proved it to you. This was him – the real him. The realization that you were wearing his necklace had helped level his head somewhat – but the sternness in his features let you know you needed to answer, quickly.
“The man you heard in the background was the pharmacist,” your voice was soft, hands settling on the sides of his neck lightly in the hopes that skin-to-skin contact would settle him further. “I went to the gynecologist this morning because I was still…sore. From the morning you left.”
His features noticeably softened, a new look of curiosity forming on his features that pulled his eyebrows together slightly. So far, he was content that you were being honest – but you weren’t giving him enough information, either, and the annoyance that lingered was evident in his voice. “Did the doctor have an answer for you?” 
Nodding, you hesitantly reached up to lace your fingers in his hair with one hand, your eyes cautiously watching his every reaction. Still, you held strong and continued your commitment to answering his questions – despite the fact this was information you had initially planned to keep from him.
“I…we…you,” you breathed out carefully, choosing the words for your explanation carefully. “You…broke my birth control implant…probably that morning based on when the pain started. It had to be removed and so…they prescribed pain medication for a few days.”
It was impossible to miss the hunger that flashed in his eyes, or the low rumble to his voice. “And did they replace it? The implant?”
“No.”
His hand left your cheek and he took a step back from you to drag his eyes down your body. Aware that meant he was likely being invasive and using x-ray vision to see for himself you suddenly felt incredibly embarrassed, and your cheeks burned red to emphasize the fact. When his eyes met yours again he was pulling the gloves away from his hands, tossing them to a nearby surface so he could step close to you again and cradle your face with his bare hands. 
For a moment his eyes expressed only conflict as they burned into yours, his fingertips digging a little too deeply into your skin as he analyzed the conversation – as he thought about his feelings. Moments of silence passed before his emotions seemed to land on entirely new territory – new territory for you, at least. His thumbs tenderly brushed along your cheek bones, his grasp lightening as an almost sinister smile spread across his face. 
“So exactly what is going to stop me,” he started, leaning forward to brush the tip of his nose against yours lightly. You were keenly aware that he was being entirely too nice. “From getting you pregnant?”
A shaky breath slid past your lips as he placed a light kiss to the corner of your mouth, sliding one of his hands down to take hold of the towel that was wrapped around you. Your voice was embarrassingly small. “I guess...you’ll have to…to use a condom or pull out?”
A deep laugh burst through his chest that rumbled against your own torso now that he was flush against you, his lips kissing a small trail to your ear where he pulled the lobe between his teeth for a moment before growling out a quiet, “No.”
One swift movement from his hand and the towel was on the floor, goosebumps immediately forming across your skin at the cool air. With a hum of approval at your lack of covering now he turned his head, connecting his lips to yours in a starved kiss. It was nature now for your lips to part for him and allow his tongue entry, and the two of you shared a heated kiss until you were breathless as he carried you to a room you’d yet to see, as you had spent your time in his apartment in a guest room – his bedroom. 
“You were supposed to be gone for five more days,” you breathed against his lips, working some of the few buttons on his suit that you’d grown to understand. Pushing you onto an oversized bed with satin sheets, he began to work at his own suit, a cocky smirk covering his face.
“If you think I’m going to stay away when I hear another man in the background on my girl’s phone…you must not know me very well,” he shook his head as his boots were kicked to the side, his movements a little more desperate and uncalculated than they’d previously been with you. When his pants were pushed to the floor he continued. “You’ve got another thing coming, doll.”
His torso took too long to free and by the time he was climbing onto the bed with you he was starved, desperate to devour any part of you his mouth could connect to. His lips pressed firm and intentional kisses along the insides of your thighs as he made his way to your sweet core. Running a stripe through your folds with his tongue his eyes searched for yours as his hands reached to caress your breasts, a quiet hum vibrating your skin as a moan left your lips. 
It was truly as if he hadn’t eaten for days, his tongue thoroughly swiping along every inch you had to offer, savoring every drop of arousal that came across his tongue, alternating to suck your clit softly. He hadn’t been this hungry for you until now, and it took him no time to cause a rising heat to build in your core. Your fingers found their way into his hair and you threw your head back as he began to fuck into you with his tongue, moaning in appreciation at the noises you made for him. 
His way of thanking you for not needing the instruction to come against his tongue was to slip a finger into you, curling it right against your tender spot deep within as you threw your head back for him. “ Oh, god… ”
Sucking your clit into his mouth once more with a sinful noise his eyes found yours once more as he leaned back, grasping his cock in his hand. “No, not god,” he breathed, beginning to stroke himself in preparation for you. He leaned down to press a tender kiss to your lips, his eyes closing as he rubbed the head of his cock against your opening. His voice was hardly above a whisper against your lips as he began to slip inside of you. “Not god, not Homelander…John.”
You moaned out his name for the first time, and he clutched to your sides as he forced himself to behave tenderly and slowly with you, aware that you must still be sore. Burying his face in your neck to place soft kisses he eased in inch by inch until he was fully within you, finding the comfort that only you could bring him. For a moment he stilled, enjoying the feeling of simply being encompassed by your warm walls, before he slowly, lazily began dragging his hips back and forth. 
He hadn’t been rhythmic like this with you before, his movements always thought out well in advance for the maximum impact. Now, however, his movements only aimed to bask in this moment with you, this moment where he could truly claim you for the first time in his mind. Lifting your hips and wrapping your legs around his waist to beckon him deeper you found yourself unable to do little more than moan his name and claw at his back. 
Trying impossibly to push into you deeper he held you against him, leaning down to suckle one of your nipples into his mouth as his movements picked up some speed. As he flicked his tongue over your nipple his blue eyes gazed adoringly up into your own, grinding against you to hit that perfect spot deep within you. You rewarded him for his effort by moaning out his name again and clenching your walls ever-so-slightly tighter, but he was greedy for everything you had – and he needed more. 
“Please,” was all he could beg you for, his hands grasping at your hips as he tried to do anything he could to pull you closer. His lips reached for yours in a wet, heated kiss which he cut shorter than he truly wanted to await your response. 
“I missed you inside of me so much,” you whined, meeting a couple of his thrusts by raising your hips at the same time, moving one hand to the back of his head. Pulling your head back slightly you were able to take in the sight of his sweat-slicked, messy hair and the way his lips were parted slightly. Seeing him this way, in a way you knew could only truly be for you, added a new depth to the dynamic between the two of you – and though for you that could go unspoken, for him, hearing it was everything. “Want…want you like this every day.”
His fluid movements were coaxing another orgasm from you and your words could hardly leave as more than strangled whines, but you had given him everything he needed and in a sign of appreciation he picked up his speed. Normally, he only restrained himself enough to not completely break you, but tonight he was truly making an effort to reign in his strength and make sure his thrusts were enjoyable for the both of you, and you could tell. 
His grunts confirmed that this worked for him, too, and it wasn’t terribly long before your legs were shaking around him, a second orgasm rushing through your body. When he felt your walls tighten around him as you rode out your high by thrusting sloppily up into him he could barely restrain himself, knowing that his own release was chasing yours. 
“Tell me…tell me that you want my cum,” he moaned, burying his face in your neck in preparation of being unable to hold back anymore. All you could manage in your fucked-out buzz was was a quiet ‘yes’ and a kiss to the top of his head as his orgasm rushed through him, painting your inner walls white with hot ropes of cum. 
When he was certain both of you had finished your orgasms he slowly removed himself from you, laying on his side next to you to keep his gaze transfixed on your bliss-filled face as you returned to earth. With your eyes closed, you had no visual warning when his fingers slipped back to your core, his middle finger pushing the cum that was leaking from you back inside. When your eyes flew open in question he leaned over to place a soft kiss to your lips, leaning his forehead against yours in a moment of intimacy. 
When he was satisfied with the amount of times he’d repeated this motion he left only long enough to get a towel for you, tenderly wiping your legs and discarding the towel before crawling back into the bed next to you. Laying his head on your chest he closed his eyes as you began running your fingers through his hair, enjoying a rare true moment of peace. Eventually, he pulled you to roll you to your side, his hand finding its way to your cheek again.
“I would like…” he started, clearly having been deciding on his words for several of the quiet moments that had passed between the two of you. Sliding the hand that was on your cheek back into your hair and running his fingers through the strands gently he continued on, his normal confidence wavering slightly. “I would like for you to call this home.”
full masterlist.
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▸ likes & comments are appreciated, but please reblog to help share my work! xo
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stevesbestgirl · 2 months
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Tom Hiddleston is James Conrad
in Kong: Skull Island (2017)
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stevesbestgirl · 2 months
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A Friend of Mine (2006) Daniel Brühl as Karl
No one should look this photogenic when depressed.
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stevesbestgirl · 2 months
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STEVE ROGERS/CAPTAIN AMERICA #rear and forward facing
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oscar isaac as mikael boghosian in the promise (2016)
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stevesbestgirl · 2 months
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Btw if you've ever commented on one of my fics I love you. You will have my sword in the battles to come
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stevesbestgirl · 2 months
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I love Buckys and Sam’s friendship
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CAPTAIN AMERICA: CIVIL WAR (2016)
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stevesbestgirl · 2 months
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I hope Bee gets all the hearts and pink cupcakes in the world this coming Valentine’s Day🥺
She will!
Bucky has something sweet planned for her and her mama.
In the meantime, Bucky is seconds from having an aneurysm because the shifty little bastard strikes again.
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Pairing: Mafia!Bucky x Reader
AN: Written on my phone, will edit later.
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"No." Bucky takes a sip of bourbon, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. A smirk lingers on his lips.
You've been, not so subtly, attempting to pry a hint out of him for the past hour. Nothing you've done so far has broken his resolve to keep his Valentine's Day plans a secret. No matter how tempting the offer.
"Please." You move to your knees, lips brushing his ear as you whisper. "Please Bucky."
His chest slowly rises and falls. You don't play fair. His heartbeat spikes when you bite his earlobe, his eyes closing. "No Malyshka."
No. You haven't heard that word come out of his mouth in forever. "What do you mean no?"
Even as the question leaves your lips, your eyes go wide. He really does have you spoiled. Bucky laughs under his breath as if he knows what's going through your mind. You push his shoulder, sitting back on your haunches.
"You'll get it when I'm ready to give it to you." Bucky raises the glass to his mouth. He doesn't have the decency to conceal how much he's enjoying teasing you. He wonders how desperate you'll get. This should be fun.
Just as you're about go to plan C, Bee runs in the living room, skidding to a stop in front of the couch. She beams up at the two of you. "Hi Papa, Hi Mommy. I was lookin' for you all over."
This is the first room she's checked.
"Hey Bee. You ready for Valentine's day?" You ask, reaching out to fix her sleeve.
"Oh I real 'cited. Frankie gave me a lot of kisses," she replies, holding up four fingers. "You get lots of kisses mommy?"
Bucky feels his stomach drop, his bourbon goes down wrong, burning a path straight down his windpipe and he coughs harshly. "What?"
He wipes his mouth off with the back of his hand, dropping the glass on the end table with a sharp clack that nearly shatters it. Bucky clears his throat. "Kisses?"
Bee grins, reaching into her pocket. "Yeah, he gave me some for baletine's cause he's my boyfrien'."
His gaze narrows. Jaw tightens. He knew it. He knew he was right about that little bastard. He knows a long con when he sees one. If he makes a call right now, Frankie will be enrolling in a new school by the end of the week. Preferably an ocean away from his baby.
"No," you hiss, grabbing his chin and turning his face to you. You can read him just as easily as he can read you. "No Bucky." Without breaking eye contact, you continue speaking. "What kind of kisses Bumblebee?"
"Yummy ones Mommy."
Bucky makes a pained noise in his throat. You will yourself not to giggle—it's really hard not to but you don't think Bucky could handle that on top of everything else. He's stiff as a board under your hands, so tense he might snap.
"Oh that's nice. Do you have any more?"
His brows knit, confusion warring with the panic in his deep blue gaze.
"You can has dis one," she offers, holding up a Hershey kiss wrapped in pink foil.
"Thank you, sweet Bee." You pluck it off her palm and let go of Bucky. Slowly unwrapping it, you plop the chocolate in your mouth. He deflates, avoiding your gaze as he loosens his tie with a chagrined expression. He can concede that he may have slightly overreacted.
"Frankie gots you some kisses Papa." She doesn't notice the disgusted sneer sliding across his face. "You waits right here. I gonna get them." She sprints out the room, the soft patter of her steps fading down the hallway.
"Not. A. Word."
Head tilting back, you cackle. Loudly. Boisterously. Your entire body shaking from the force of it. Bucky stares pensively in your direction, polishing off the rest of his drink while he waits for your laughter to abate.
"Oh I'm telling Steve and Sam all about this. Don't give me the look, I'm not afraid of you Barnes," you wheeze out, wiping the stray tear from your cheek.
You crawl over his lap, legs draped over the arm of the couch, your head on his shoulder. He grabs your thigh, pulling you closer. "But if you tell me what you're getting me for Valentine's Day, I might be convinced to keep my mouth shut."
Bucky weighs his options, Steve and Sam will never let him live this down or he can reveal his plans. He makes a swift decision. He doesn't have to think about it. His large, warm hand slides up your throat, and his thumb brushes over your bottom lip. He smiles softly before pressing an even softer kiss on your forehead.
"No."
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stevesbestgirl · 6 months
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a natural.
〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉
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event | kinktober 2021
prompt | eating out
summary | bucky lets steve use you as practice for going down on a girl.
pairing | dark!stucky x reader
warnings | dark steve and bucky(steve’s relatively soft, bucky a little less), noncon, bucky holds reader down(restraining), set in the forties before the freeze (but after steve becomes supersoldier)? if that matters?, implied that reader is bucky’s partner unwillingly (idk i didn’t choose to elaborate so whatever you prefer to imagine for those circumstances), steve “doesn’t know how to eat pussy” but then destroys reader’s, fingering, eating out, forced orgasm, crying, one (?) slap, praise, slight!jealousy from steve
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an | wooh i just love something about like bucky having to explain so descriptively and steve being so eager to make you cum, like can you imagine :’-) also idk if it matters that this is set before the freeze but i just like the aesthetic of forties!stucky for this one. also wow this one also ended up super long oops :^) anyway, hope you guys enjoy!
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“Shit, Bucky. She’s even prettier in person.”
Though you’re putting up the best fight you can, you’re no match for the two supersoldiers holding you down to the bed as you thrash and writhe pathetically; with frustration settling on his face to mix with his disappointment, Bucky tsks at you. “Come on, y/n. Give it up; you know you’re not getting out of this.”
“Please-” you try to beg once more, but with exhaustion settling in over you as Bucky secures you to his chest from behind with his arms wrapped around you, you know the outcome is getting bleaker by the moment.
“S'alright doll,” Steve tries to sate you, noticeably more impacted by your tears and protests than his friend, “just gonna make you feel good.”
“That’s right, so for fuck’s sake, would you quit squirming,” Bucky demands, his grip tightening on you as he manages to raise a hand to strike swiftly across your tear-soaked cheek. Heat rises immediately to flood the battered flesh, a frightened whimper escaping your lips as you fall limp against the pair, earning a hum of content from the dark-haired man behind you. “That’s better,” he sighs in relief. “Now go ahead, pal. Lift up her skirt, I made sure she’s got nothin’ on under there.”
Steve pauses for a moment to lock his eyes with yours, a hand reaching out almost appearing to offer peace as he nods. “Alright. Just relax, sweetheart,” he attempts to soothe you, taking the fabric of your skirt lightly and flipping it up to reveal your bare thighs. Your knees close instinctively, but Bucky’s quick to grab one in each hand, prying you open to give Steve easy access.
Now completely exposed to the cool air of the room, your pussy quivers in anticipation. Eyes drifting to your glistening heat, Steve’s mouth beginning to water as he lowers his head to take a closer look. “Fuck,” he mutters, his large length bulging visibly through his pants. Though you’re no expert on all the technicalities of what the serum did to him, it’s clear now that the young man’s muscles weren’t nearly the only thing enhanced by the experiment.
“She wet?” Bucky asks from behind you, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs beginning to ache.
“Just barely,” Steve hums, still seeming half in a daze from the magnificent sight of your sex.
“You’re gonna wanna use some spit then,” Bucky advises. “C'mon doll, be a good girl and open up for Stevie.” Feeling the pressure increase through his grip on you, you’re quick to obey him. Eyes still wide, Steve gently slips his pointer and middle finger between your lips, a low groan rising through his throat as you provide him your saliva. “Now spread it around down there, over the opening,” Bucky continues.
Doing as his friend’s instructed, Steve brings his spit-covered fingers down to drag over your slit, his fingertips just barely teasing at your opening as his brow slants in concentration. “Start with one finger; work a little in at a time,” Bucky says.
“Alright doll,” Steve breathes, gently beginning to ease his middle finger into you. “Shit,” he mumbles as you struggle to take the insertion, “so fuckin’ tight.”
“Yeah, she’ll take some warming up,” Bucky chuckles, straining your legs a bit further apart to make it easier for his friend as he pumps in the length of just one knuckle, then working up to a second, his motions careful, cautious. Though he hasn’t said it, it’s clear Steve’s worried about hurting you given the size of his fingers. “There you go,” Bucky murmurs approvingly, glancing over your shoulder to watch as your cunt’s slowly opened up. “You can work a little faster now, and you can probably fit the whole finger in.”
Nodding, Steve picks up his pace ever-so-slightly, the full length of his digit now filling you up each time he presses inside you. “That okay, princess?” he asks, his eyes raising back up to meet yours. Trying to keep from moaning out, you simply nod, a look of relief washing over Steve as he dares to go even a bit faster.
“Now would be a good time to add your mouth,” Bucky tells him. “Find her clit up where her lips join together, looks like a little bead peaking out from between the folds. You’re gonna wanna work it with your tongue; sucking on it’s usually the best way to go.”
Licking his lips, Steve lowers his face to meet your mound, his nose bumping against it gently as he runs his tongue over your engorged flesh, the soft sensation sending tingles running up from your toes. “There, that’s it,” Bucky encourages, “look at that, she’s opening right up for you.” Steve only hums in agreement, the warmth of his breath against you only causing your wetness to grow as his finger works inside of you. When his lips find your bundle of nerves and close in to begin suckling, you can’t hold back your response; a heated whine escapes you as the tender bud is worked by the man’s mouth, a familiar fullness beginning to build in your belly.
“Oh- St-Steve,” you whimper, your hands coming up to cover your face in embarrassment. Keeping his lips locked on your clit, the blonde starts pumping faster in and out of your pussy with his fingers, not even needing Bucky’s instruction to know when you’re finally ready for a second. As the pads of his fingers work perfectly up against your soft spongey ceiling, you can feel your climax building inside you, your breaths starting to stagger as you grip the sheets beneath you in anticipation.
“There she goes, she’s almost there,” Bucky sings, his hands abandoning your legs to come up and cup your breasts through your shirt. “Keep goin’, pal. She’s about to cum- don’t worry, you’ll feel it when it happens.”
“Steve, B-Bucky,” you stammer, your head throbbing in pleasure as your peak approaches.
“C'mon, doll. Cum for me,” Steve pants against your button, his words the exact push you need to be thrown over the edge as you clench down brutally against his fingers, your toes curling up almost painfully as your orgasm tears through you.
“Fuck, that’s my girl,” Bucky praises as Steve nurses your clit, his fingers struggling to continue pounding into you as you ride out your high. The intensity lasts for several moments, and only when you’ve finally begun to come down does Steve slow his movements, his lips ceasing from around your puffy flesh as he raises his head to look at you, adoration shining in his eyes.
“Pull out carefully,” Bucky tells him. “She’s sensitive now.” Steve’s careful to do so, surprising both you and the man behind you by bringing his soaked fingers to his mouth to lick off the juices.
“How’d I do?” he asks.
“I’d say you’re a natural,” Bucky decides, his hands now rubbing gently over your chest as you breathe heavily against him. “Though I’ll warn you now, whatever girl you practice on next will have nothing on y/n.”
“I’m sure you’re right, pal,” Steve agrees with a nod, a hint of sadness flashing in his eyes as he glances at the two of you before him.
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