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some-bunniii · 3 months

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Lucifer meeting an artist reader

・❥ The King of Hell admires your paintings

x: reader is g/n :) no use of pronouns or y/n

warnings: some raunchy details of your painting & mild swearing

When you arrived in Hell, the first thing you did was scream.

Where were you? Why was it so hot? What happened to your bed?!

“You’re in Hell, kid.” A blue bat-faced man had broke the news, as you stood helpless and confused on the street.

Hell? Like, demons and dark satanic magic kind of Hell?

That couldn’t be right. Were you that bad of a person to deserve such a fate? Did the few times you passed the Salvation Army donation bucket without dropping a coin damn you to this place?

Your death was fuzzy, a trail of shattered memories that could only give you bits and pieces of your final days. Did you go quickly in your sleep? Maybe, you hit your head so hard it caused you some kind of post-death amnesia?

Whatever had happened, you were here now with no way out.

During your first few days scouring for answers, you began to notice that Hell had an eerie similarity to life above ground. There were clubs, casinos, concerts. Heck, even TV! Sure, the things broadcasted were dark and sometimes disgusting.. but at least you had something to watch.

Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all? At least, compared to being thrown into dark, fiery pits for all of eternity like some cruel game of sink or swim.

Minus the people, of course. Most of them were pretty bad. Your first day watching a man get shot in the chest and lines of cocaine across tables in a diner made you decide to stay away from the streets of the city.

Which meant you had to get busy making a life for yourself. It started with working odd jobs as a bartender or a bell-hopper. You’d scrap together enough money to head to the nearest art supply store, and fill your bag with paints and charcoal pencils.

“You an artist or something?” The clerk had asked you as she scanned your items, taking note of your vast amount of diverse tools you were slowly collecting every time you stopped by.

“I usually paint, but yes, I used to do all kinds of mediums professionally when I was.. alive,” You had whispered that last part out with a pang of sadness, the reality of your situation still a fresh wound in your mind.

You had found an ad for an art studio, ran by a demon named Alexandre. You had showed him a few of your pieces, some pretty landscapes, a rendition of the Starry Night Sky which you had replaced the backdrop to be Pentagram city instead of whatever little village it was originally, and a self portrait.

“You got talent, i’ll give you that,” He had hummed, as his eyes scanned your paintings with intrigue, “But the subject? Not really what we’re looking for.”

“What do you mean?” You had asked, confusion evident in your voice.

“We’re in Hell, demons ain’t into pretty ponies and happy, little trees. They want more— eh how do i put this — sinful behavior?”

“Like…?”

“Like tits or anything that can be turned into a kink. They like blood and guts, and dead people splayed around. Dead angels too. Stuff like that.”

Tits? Dead people? You didn’t have much practice with that! At least not enough to make a career out of it.

But you had agreed anyway, this was your only shot. You stayed up late into the night, sometimes even into the early mornings, perfecting your skill when it came to much more risqué visuals. You would buy stacks of pornograohic magazines, flipping through for poses to memorize.

Slowly, you began to master the craft, and your time at the studio increased as you finally settled into life in Hell.

All you had to do was churn out painting after pastel after acrylic in the little cramped room you now called home. Alexandre would then take your pieces and sell them to the highest bidder. You’d get a percentage of the commission, using the money for whatever necessary.

Seeing as you could be mugged at literally any point in time, or anywhere for that matter, you made sure to keep a large sum of cash locked away in a double-bolted safe.

“You know Ozzie’s, that club down in the Lust Ring?” Alexandre had approached you one day, excitement in his eyes.

You shook your head as you sat behind the easel, your brush an inch from the canvas.

“Run by Asmodeus, one of the literal seven deadly sins?”

You shook your head once more.

“Fuck, you still have a lot to learn. Well, he really likes your art. He wants to buy a bunch of paintings for his club, and he’ll drop a shit ton of cash too. Ya think you can handle it?”

Your eyes had widened when he told you the exact price this sin guy was willing to pay. You had jumped from your seat, shaking his hand in profuse thanks, before scurrying off to gather more supplies.

And for a time, that’s how it went. You’d sell your steamiest paintings to Asmodeus, and other private commissions you took one after the other.

Apparently, your painting hung up in Ozzie’s was getting a lot of attention. Especially from a certain spider demon named Angel Dust.

After hearing Charlie’s decision to look for another member of their staff— someone who’d be in charge of decorating the premise with promises of love and tranquility up in Heaven— Angel Dust had taken a few snaps of your work with his phone, before showing it to Vaggie and Charlie. He had complimented your work, claiming it was ‘the best’ oil paintings he’d ever seen.

Although, in his line of work, he probably hadn’t seen many to compare yours so.

“ls this what we want in our hotel?" Vaggie had asked, motioning to a woman on the canvas that was drenched in sweat and white fluid, her private parts exposed to the audience as she posed suggestively on a stripper pole.

To which Charlie has responded, "I think it's... unique! You can definitely see she knows how to, um, really bring the scene to life! l'm sure she'll be open to creating our vision!"

Your phone had rung one night, with a voice on the other end begging you to come to her hotel and at least hear her offer for a new job.

Which lead you to the Hazbin Hotel, a slightly run down building that obviously needed more work. Inside and out.

“Oh my gosh! Hi there! My name is Charlie, and this is my hotel! it’s such a pleasure to meet you!”

“Thanks.. but I don’t see many guests around.” You had told her, your eyes darting around the lobby as you absorbed your surroundings.

“Well, we’re still trying to get our name out there. We’re not just any hotel, we’re a hotel set on redeeming sinners!” She exclaimed with pride.

“Redeem?” You had asked her, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

She shook her head vigorously, “This hotel.. it’s going to be amazing! We’re going to turn Sinners into well.. non-sinners! They’ll be rehabilitated, and have morals! And honor! Heaven won’t be able to do anything but welcome them as angels!”

This idea had sounded a little far-fetched when you first heard it.

“You’ll be in charge of making art that reflects such views! Something that will make Sinners go, ‘Wow! Now that’s where I want to go!’”

“What’s in it for me?” You had asked.

“Well you’ll have your own room, and your own little studio too! I’m sure it’s much bigger than the one you already have. Plus we have a bar, and good company!”

You turned your head to the small crowd of demons a few feet away. A pornstar, a gambler, a snake guy with weird little walking eggs, and a really creepy man in a red coat that shot you a wide smile with eyes that seemed to stare right through your soul.

This was good company?

You contemplated her words, thinking deeply. Did you really need to leave the studio you were already a part of? You already had a room and place to paint, anyway.

Charlie must have noticed your hesitation to accept before quickly adding,

“Anddd you can sell your pieces here too! Plus, you can keep a hundred percent of the earnings.”

You perked up at that, the money made from your art would be... all yours? And, you’d get a breather from the drawing people having sex? That didn’t sound so bad after all!

“Deal!” You had reached out a hand, shaking hers with delight.

It had taken you a day or two to map out the interior of the hotel and figure out what could go where. You began to slowly brainstorm, what could make a sinner stare at a canvas and want to redeem themselves?

During your time on earth, you studied many artists through history. Most notably however, were those from the Renaissance. You remembered walking through the Sistine Chapel when you were younger,

staring at awe of the paintings of winged angels and heavenly skies.

You perked at that thought. That was it! The inspiration for your paintings, an ethereal perspective on what one would find in heaven. The feelings of bliss and care-free joy.

You spent your first few days in an undisturbed area of the hotel, it was a large room on the farthest side of the lobby. It must’ve been a guest room at one point, but other than a bed and few cushions that the ‘Radio Demon’ had placed for you, it was empty.

It was quiet enough that you could sit there, undisturbed, as you drew upon your memories and vast knowledge of histories in art as you slowly began to bring your ideas to life. Slowly, the room also took form into being yours, personal knick-knacks and stacks upon stacks of blank canvases waiting to bring your visions to life.

At the end of every day, you'd come out with your hands covered in charcoal and paint, your hard work on full display.

You had even grown closer to the other residents in the hotel, beginning to see them as more than their initial appearance. Even Alastor, who still kind of gave you the creeps, you had regarded as someone you could speak to without hesitation.

You’d sit on the couches with Angel Dust, drowning in popcorn as you watched whatever was on TV for the night. Sometimes, you’d sit with Husk at the bar as you listened to his stories from his days at the casino and as an Overlord.

It was there, when Charlie had summoned the courage to call her father, Lucifer, the King of Hell, to come visit the hotel and decide on getting her that meeting with the higher powers in Heaven.

Upon hearing about Lucifer's impending visit, you felta mixture of nerves and excitement. You've heardstories about him-his charisma, his power--but you never expected to meet him, let alone showcase your art to him. Would he even like them? He's no doubt seen much more beautiful sights.

As preparations for Lucifer's visit got more chaotic by the minute, you found yourself back in your Atelier, quickly cleaning up your room and berating yourself for any little mistakes you found in your paintings. Each stroke of the brush carried with it a sense of urgency, a desire to impress not just your friends at the hotel, but also the King of Hell himself.

The current piece you were working on was your most intense one yet. It depicted that of an almost nude man, flying high in the skies. His back was faced towards you, his face hidden from view. He was faced towards the sun, which bathed him in a warm glow. Arms outstretched, knees curled in, it seemed as if the angel was going to give the sun a large bear-hug.

It wasn’t until you heard loud commotion in the lobby did you realize Lucifer had arrived. Quickly dropping the brush you were holding, you sneaked down the stairs and quickly neared the archway of the lobby.

Peaking your head out, you canned the large room. Until your eyes locked in a pale figure. Lucifer.

He was beautiful, definitely held the looks of an angel that fell from heaven. His light blonde hair curled elegantly around his face. The candles from the chandelier above basked him in an ethereal glow, as though he could replace the sun itself. Just like the angel from your painting.

His eyes reminded you mostly of a snake. Calculating and cold, but holding so much wisdom and depth. There was a slight sadness there as well, as though itate at him slowly, consuming his soul. It was masked incredibly well though, and you only caught a glimpse before it disappeared.

His attitude toward his daughter made your heartmelt, it was obvious he cared about her in the way heacted and spoke to Charlie, even if his absence didn't speak so fondly of him.

As Lucifer and Alastor butted heads, you quickly scurried back to your room. You had hoped to finish your work-in-progress by the time he arrived, but the struggle to get those damn angel wings to be anatomically correct was a pain.

You hurriedly continued your work, trying to calm your nerves by busying yourself with the painting in front of you.

Charlie's voice broke you out of your concentration soon after, multiple footsteps closing in on where your room lay. You shot up from your seat, and stood up straight, ready to meet the man of the hour.

You couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation mixed with apprehension as they approached your make-shift gallery.

Charlie, Vaggie, and— wow, he looked so much better up close— Lucifer stepped through the doorway.

“Dad, this is the newest addition to our staff! They are in charge of helping to inspire our future guests through the power of art!" Charlie proclaimed with glee, pulling you by the arm towards her father.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, your majesty. I apologize for being so messy, I was just finishing up another painting." You had greeted him softly.

"Don't worry, you look great," He assured, a gleam in his eyes, "and the pleasure is all mine, anyone who is willing to help my little girl is someone worth meeting,"

You stood there for a moment. Unsure of where to go next, before you felt a slight nudge from Charlie that pulled you back to reality, "Why don't we take a look at your paintings? I promise you, Dad, they are amazing!" She squealed softly.

Beckoning Lucifer forward, you took him through each painting. You described your feelings for each piece, and what made you choose them for the hotel.

You rambled on and on, and Lucifer never said anything, he just listened as you spoke.

Which made you nervous, what was he thinking? Did he like them, or was he just waiting for you to stop talking so he could quickly escape to something of more interest to him? The thought made sweat dribble down your forehead.

To your surprise, Lucifer's reaction to your art was not what you expected. Instead of dismissing it as mere frivolity, he studied each piece with genuine interest, his expression thoughtful and contemplative.

He mostly stayed quiet, but once in awhile would throw in a joke here and there if he noticed anything of interest in the paintings.

His goofy nature that you caught onto watching him earlier was barely evident though, unlike when he was trying to impress his daughter.

After finishing the small tour, you turned to him in anticipation. Your hands nervously rubbing together, as you shot a glance to Charlie, and she gave you an uncertain look. You both held the same question in your gaze: What is he thinking?

"These paintings.." Lucifer began, his voice low and melodic, "Are different than most i've seen down here, not just some scandalous display, but with real meaning. They evoke emotions long buried, memories of a time before.. all this."

His words caught you off guard, and you found yourself nodding in agreement, unable to tear your gaze away from his intense eyes.

The one he was staring at in particular was a recreation of The Garden of Eden by Jan Breghal, a painting that depicted the place where humanity was birthed, and where it fell.

“Does it look like.. how you remembered?" You had asked slowly, if anyone could validate the truth in your work, it would be him.

"Actually, this is much prettier. The real deal doesn't do your painting justice," He replied, "It was so boring, just green on green."

Also," He added, "An unfortunate lack of ducks. Humanity should be grateful that I got them out of that forest, so they could see something actually worthwhile.. and with ducks."

You giggled softly at his words, have you ever met someone that seemed to love ducks as much as him?

As Lucifer continued to explore the room, you couldn’t help but notice the way he lingered on certain paintings, his fingers tracing the delicate lines with reverence. It was as if he saw something in your art that no one else did, something profound and personal.

Perhaps your choice of baby-faced angels, and ethereal landscapes brought back memories of his time in Heaven. Hopefully, that wasn't a bad thing.

When Lucifer finally turned to you, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable lurking beneath the surface. "You have a rare gift," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "To create beauty in a place like this... it's truly remarkable."

He looked at you for a moment, before a smile crept onto his lips. He was Lucifer, he knew exactly what you meant. It's what drove him to manipulate Eve to eat from the Tree of Life in the first place.

Was he finally getting a glimpse of the good free will brought to humanity? Was there actually meaning in his past actions that sent him to the depths of Hell?

His gaze narrowed in on the canvas behind you, and he slipped past you. "What is this?" He asked with intrigue, pointing towards your unfinished painting.

“My final piece. I've been working on it for days, but I just can't get the wings right.. believe it or not, i've never actually seen angel wings in person." You said that last bit as a joke.

His smile sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. For the King of Hell, it was surprisingly warm, and kind.

Then an idea struck you, but you tried to desperately to push it down. Except it seemed like the only time you could ask someone with angel wings to let you use them as a reference. How many fallen angels were in Hell, anyway?

"I'm so sorry if this is out of line, but. could I, um, borrow you for a little bit? I've just been having trouble drawing the wings correctly and you, well, have them?”

His eyes widened, and his chest puffed slightly at your question. He shot you a toothy grin, “Paint me? Why didn't you mention that earlier?! I have the perfect figure for such a thing.”

Behind him, Charlie rolled her eyes, a hint of a smile on her lips. You smiled too, you should've known he'd have no problem with it, he was the embodiment of pride after all.

He plopped down on a stool before you, and removed his overcoat. Beneath what seemed to be a red and white gatsby vest that hugged his frame perfectly. Jeez, he was almost too good looking.

He stretched out his large wings, folding the otherfour behind him, only revealing the two much largerones. They were breathtaking, truly. They looked so fluffy too!

You guided him on the exact position you needed them to be in, before making your way to the canvas and getting to work.

Assuring the group you only needed to get a visual on the canvas, the actual work you would do on your own. Slowly, you traced the frame of his wings, etching out the soft lines of his feathers and the curvatures of its form.

You could only imagine how soft those feathers were and what it would be like to curl around them like a pillo-

You shook your head to rid those thoughts. Why were you thinking such things about Lucifer like that? It's not like he would even want to let you go anywhere near him or his wings.

Would he?

You continued your painting, trying not to meet his gaze as you would occasionally peak your head from behind the large canvas to get another good look at his wings.

There was a moment when you two did lock eyes, and he sent a half-lidded smirk in your direction. Thankfully the large object between you two helped hide your growing blush. He was obviously just trying to get you worked up, you assured yourself. Just like he did with Alastor. In a different way, of course.

"This reminds me of when Charlie was younger" Lucifer began, filling the silence, "We sat for a good few hours trying to get a family portrait painted and she would just not sit still!”

“Dad.. please, not right now." Charlie growled out in embarrassment, her cheeks flushed. Vaggie only smiled beside her, listening intently as Lucifer filled everyone in on her younger years.

“lt got to the point where I had to summon her favorite toy to get her to stop squirming, everything was smooth sailing after that.

"And what was her favorite toy?" You inquired softly behind the canvas

“A rubber duck! Like the ones you play with in the bath? She could not get enough of it whenever it squeaked. One time the squeaker broke, and I went to my workshop and crafted her a magical one that meowed instead! Haha!"

Okay, this family really has a thing for ducks!

“She hated it, but that only inspired me to keep making more. Sometimes, we'd sit together on the work bench, and I would just come up with ideas like confetti-spitting, or color changing ducks. She wasn't too good at speaking at that time, so every time she'd laugh that was my clue that she liked it!"

It was sweet, the way he rambled about his daughter. He never spoke of himself or his accomplishments, despite embodying the sin of pride. It was almost like his only pride was his best creation, Charlie.

He continued, the room full of jokes and laughter, even from Vaggie, regarding Charlie's life as a youngling. You listened intently to his stories, his voice dripping with amusement as he recounted story after story.

lt was so sappy and you loved it. Which made you grumble quietly to yourself, why did you have to have a thing for DILFS?! Concentrate on the painting!

After a moment, Lucifer's eyes turned back to the paintings around him, his gaze scanning each painting once more. "I've noticed that you seem to have a repetition in your work.. not that that's a bad thing!" He quickly corrected.

“But in all of your paintings featuring angels, there's always a swan swimming or resting nearby. Do they hold any significance, or are they just a passion for you?"

You looked up from the canvas, and also traced the angelic figures across the room. He was right, with the images of the divine beings also came the appearance of the large, white water fowl. Lying lazily beside the angels, or swimming across pools of water as the care-free beings danced and frolicked.

You contemplated for a moment, before speaking truthfully.

“I just think Swans are elegant and ethereal creatures. They embody the purest of souls, untouched by the taint of sin that consumes the world, just like how their feathers remain untouched from the waters they glide on"

Lucifer's eyes lit up slightly, drinking up your words.

“Plus," You continue, "they mate for life, and allow themselves to just.. decay once their significant other departs from the world. It's very romantic, and love is one of the purest emotions in the world."

Lucifer wasn't looking at you when your eyes met his again, his stare was far off. Past the room entirely, as your words echoed through him. There it was again, the glimpse of sadness that he tried to hide so painfully well.

“Does such love like that exist?," he murmured so softly you had to strain your ears.

There was a few moments of deathly silence before Charlie piped up, asking her father something about heaven. You tried to listen, but your mind was stuck on his words. Lucifer was in heaven once, and he still didn't fully believe in such things?

If there weren't others in the room, perhaps you would’ve asked him.

It took a few more minutes before you were able to wrap up fully, but you had no regrets of asking this man for help, the angel on the canvas actually looked like he had wings, not just stumps of white tuft.

You got up from your seat and walked towards him, noticing that Charlie and her girlfriend were not present anymore. It was just you and Lucifer in theroom now.

“Well, thank you, Your Majesty. You really helped me out here, and it'll go a long way to make the hotel look even better"

“Please, call me Lucifer. The formalities are only for subjects, not friends," he replied, "l did really enjoy getting to see your paintings, you are quite a phenomenal artist. I wasn't lying when I said your work was different from the rest. If only you were around for those family portraits."

You were so taken aback by his praise that you only shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. Even though, coming from the King of Hell, it was.

Glancing behind him, you saw Charlie and Vaggie whispering to each other in the hallway outside of the door. You assumed they probably wanted to finish up so they could get him to agree to the meeting with Heaven.

lgnoring his previous statement of formalities— he was the king, you thought, you weren't going to just pat him on the back and say 'see ya! —you lowered your head and bent down to curtsy, just like you were taught when you were younger, placing your hand slightly in front of you.

Usually, you'd use that hand to shake or grasp the other person's, but it felt wrong to treat this powerful angel like any other man.

Suddenly, you felt the soft touch of fingers gliding across your hand. In confusion, you looked up at those golden eyes and that charming smile. Trying to get a glimpse of what he was thinking.

His hand gripped yours gently, and with a bow of his own, lowered his lips, and pressed a soft kiss your knuckles.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you feared to blink, soaking in his beauty for as long as you could before he had the chance to pull away. You wanted to say something, but your tongue was refusing to work as your mouth opened and closed silently.

When he finally released your hand, he adjusted his hat and turned towards the door. Leaving you standing there, your face burning hot

He cleared his throat, and turned his head slightly, his eye catching yours. A playful smile dancing on his lips.

“l look forward to our next portrait together, hopefully where I am the motivation behind your strokes. Not just these dull wings."

And with his words hanging in the air, you were left alone, with the growing itch to press your face into a pillow and squeal.

——————

awww man, my first fic! I was trying to make this more dating-centric, but i couldn’t stop writing for their first meeting and it got too long haha! If y’all like this one enough, i’ll make a dating version!

let me know what you think 🙏 i reallyyyy appreciate all comments and criticisms!!

wonderful art i commissioned by DawnDrawnS on twitter! <3

#Hazbin hotel #lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #hellverse #OOC Lucifer?#He just ain’t as goofy #But I HC he’s only like that around Charlie :)#fanfiction #writing

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kissitbttr · 2 years

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eddie munson dating a mean fem!cheerleader who’s only nice to him <3

“sorry I didn’t hear you bitch, what?!”

the loud bang and voice causes the conversations amongst the cafeteria starts to quiet down. all heads turning to the source where the voice coming from. including eddie, who has his eyes bug out like a kid getting caught sneaking his hand into the cookie jar. immediately knowing who that voice belongs to.

it’s you.

you have your hand on a somegirl’s head, pressing it against an empty table. it draws so many peoples attention with their terrified expressions written on their faces. some of them are even whispering to each other wether or not to help the poor girl out and take you away, but they know better than to upset you.

“dude… you should go there” dustin leans over to eddie with a soft whisper, as if he’s afraid that you’ll hear him. “she’s gonna kill her.”

“eh” he munches on his fries, a proud smirk plasters across his face, eyes never leaving you. “let her. she’s fucking hot when she gets feisty.”

dustin gapes at him, “what kind of boyfriend would let their girlfriend kill another girl?!”

“me” he simply answers, feeling himself growing more turned on when he watches you furrow your brows in anger and teeth gritting, while putting your mouth close to the girl’s ear, threatening her more.

oh he’s definitely fucking you from behind later,

“I-im sorry” the blonde girl chokes out, her eyes are shut in fear and body won’t stop shaking due to your rough grip around her shitty ponytail. “i promise … p-please-“

“yeah, you promise right? because if i saw you do what you did again, i will fucking come for you, you stupid fuck” you harshly say against her ear, throwing her shaking body to the floor, earning loud gasps from around. “racist bitch.”

with that, you fix your skirt and sleek your messy hair back and turn around. seeing a bunch of bewildered looks on students making you scoff and roll your eyes. “the fuck are you guys looking at? go do something!”

in seconds, the crowd begins to break. not giving you nor the girl laying on the floor any more attention. though the tension is still there.

you begin to scan through the crowd, trying to find your boyfriend. and the moment you lock eyes with him, your frown is replaced with a bright smile, squealing as you hurriedly walk over to his table in your gogo boots. he instantly stands from his seat, mirroring your expression with his arms wide open.

"puddin!" you call, quickly jumping onto him.

"hi baby" he chuckles, keeping a tight grip around your waist. "quite a show you put on there" he nods to the crying girl.

"oh, that?" you innocently point out, "well she did something bad so I had to talk to her."

he sits back down in his chair, patting his lap for you. "talked? think you did more than that, sweetheart."

"oh well." you shrug, crossing your legs as you keep your arms around his shoulder, playing with his chocolate curls. "she deserved it."

"what did she do?" gareth pipes in, glancing down at your exposed thighs. gulping as he begins to check you out.

unfortunately, eddie notices, frowning in disappointment. "hey! eyes off my girl you little shit" he warns, pointing a finger at him. glaring at the curly-headed fellow.

gareth's eyes widen, face turning red in embarrassment as he looks away making you giggle.

"oh don't worry about him gar-bear. he's just a little protective." you cup eddie's cheeks, turning him to look at you. "you're still my man, baby." you plant a kiss on his lips, causing the table to groan in disgust.

"oh shut up. if you had a hot piece of ass for a girlfriend like y/n. you'd let her do whatever she wants to you." eddie slaps your ass a bit, making you jump.

"yeah yeah, you have a girlfriend now. we get it." mike waves him off, eyes rolling. "you didn't answer the question, y/n."

"what? oh yeah! she was making fun of your club. and said some very very offensive remarks about eddie and lucas." you shrug, twirling one of eddie's locks. "I had to do something, obviously. can't let that bitch get away with what she said. i had to get physical."

"it was?" eddie's heart begins to warm. never in his life had someone defended him like that. "oh sweetcheeks, you didn't have to."

"uhm, yes i did have to." you reply in an obvious tone, "you mean a lot to me. and I know these guys and the club mean so much to you, baby. so that makes them important to me as well."

“i fucking love you, you know that?” he sighs dreamily, tucking away the loose curl from your face. “if i could take you right here-“

the hellfire kids immediately groan, covering their ears as they complain to their ‘master’ about his sexual implication. hearing that only makes you laugh even more and for eddie to roll his eyes back.

“woah woah dude, not at lunch please. it’s gross.”dustin begs, shaking his head in disgust as he points down at the meal.

“well” you start, biting your lip while standing up. “i saw chem class is free, you wanna go there with me so we can-” you’re immediately cut off by eddie jumping off from his seat right away nearly tipping the chair down. eyes wide in excitement as he nods vigorously

“yes. fuck yes. i need you right now, you don’t need to ask” he desperately begins, hands wrapped around your waist as the go down to squeeze your ass. not caring that people are probably watching. “think i can get you off in fifteen, baby?”

“i like to see you try” you purr, batting your lashes at him. “because i’m planning to get you off in ten.”

he lets out his shaky sigh“jesus fuck- i gotta go guys. move the meeting later after school.” he turns to say to his friends while grabbing your arms tight and rushes away with you who’s giggling like crazy.

“what- no! eddie!” dustin calls out his name, watching the two lovebirds disappear from the cafeteria. he sighs in frustrations, hands on his hips as he hears the piles of complaints coming from the guys.

“fucking horn dogs”

#eddie munson #eddie munson blurbs #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie things #eddie munson x mean!cheerleader

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ericscroptop · 3 months

Text

Wet Dreams

✧ pairing: eric sohn x mid-size/chubby fem! reader

✦ genre: friends to lovers + smut

✧ warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) smut, kissing, cursing, slight angst, inexperienced reader, hand job, male receiving, lots of spit, fondling, praising/praise kink, pet names, talk of insecurities, body issues, internalized fat phobia, etc., pls be cautious because i know it can be a sensitive topic for some!

✦ word count: 9.3k words (LMAOOOO)

✧ synopsis: your friend eric invites you over to his house for a swim and it is then that you realize eric wants you in ways you would’ve never imagined for yourself.

✦ note: this fic is kinda self indulgent—written as someone who is mid-size/chubby and has insecurities. i just want people who have a chubbier/thicker/fat body to feel loved and be included explicitly in writings because we are all deserving of love and affection!

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You hated swimming.

Well— okay, so you didn’t actually hate swimming.

Your disinterest for the activity was not rooted in swimming itself, but for the fact that you’d have to wear some sort of bikini in order to swim.

Technically, there wasn’t a law that said you had to wear a bikini to the beach or the pool. There are plenty of people who happily choose to wear something like a t-shirt or cover-up that’s more generous while swimming for whatever reason.

There are also a plethora of bathing suits that exist, so there’s gotta be one that you feel comfortable in, right?

The thing is, you plainly felt insecure in showing skin. You were insecure of your arms that seemed to carry excess fat that was especially visible when you moved them. Your belly hung low and it honestly was more plump than your behind. You also had skin-colored stretch marks that decorated your lower back that never seemed to go away.

These were things about you that you constantly dwelled on no matter what. You couldn’t recall a day where the topic of your body didn’t flood your mind.

You had no problem in people showing skin at all. At the end of the day, the problem was simply your lack of confidence due to society’s beauty standards that have been shoved in your face, pressed into your mind, and flooded your ears for as long as you could remember.

Though today, you were attempting at conquering your insecurities and finally stepping out of your comfort zone.

It was scorching in L.A. today. It was too hot to go out but also too hot to just rot in your home all day. Even with air conditioning, you just felt nasty.

Your friend Eric invited you to come to his house for a nightly swim. A wave of anxiety hit you when you had read his text of the invitation. First of all, he was a guy— of which, you found insanely attractive.

He was a friend that you made in your Sociology course. You remembered how he randomly approached you one day to ask a question mid-semester about something that he could’ve easily found the answer to if he looked back at the syllabus.

Though, you were happy to help anyone who needed it and answered him nicely. Or maybe it was merely because he was probably the prettiest boy you had ever laid eyes on that actually approached you, so you didn’t think twice to reply to him—but you would never let anyone know that. He was appreciative, and since then, he decided to cling onto you since you showed him courtesy.

You honestly thought he would’ve forgotten about your presence or only come to you when he needed help, but he actually started sitting with you and even distracting you with mindless but entertaining conversations during lectures.

While you started looking forward to coming into class and now having someone to talk to, your only interest in the class became the charming guy who was energetic and always made you smile from ear to ear. You eventually told Eric that you needed to prioritize your lectures and cut back on the excessive side conversations during class. He decided to take that as an opportunity to ask for your number, so you guys could hangout outside the classroom.

You were shocked that he wanted to be your friend. You didn’t feel as charming or alluring as he was, but he still found interest in you. You guys started hanging out and doing things like studying (or trying to at least) and doing miscellaneous activities at least once a week.

He became your best friend all of a sudden. You were super grateful that he came into your life, but you still felt nervous around him. He was such a good guy. You didn’t want to take your friendship for granted.

Eric was also super outgoing and friendly, while you were more reserved and it was rare for you to make new friends and be spontaneous. Sometimes, you still wonder why he decided to become your friend.

Maybe you felt this way due to your insecurities, or maybe it was because you had this lingering feeling of butterflies in your stomach every time you guys were together. Maybe it was a mixture of both.

Anyways, for whatever the reason, you just tried to be a good friend to the guy. You didn’t want to fuck anything up and so you tried your best to please Eric and not be a burden in any way.

Now, you find yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror of Eric’s guest bathroom. You tug on your favorite oversized Spongebob shirt that you own, pulling it to where it ends just below your bottom. You were getting ready to finally swim, and Eric was already out by the pool waiting while you freshen up and change.

You sighed at your reflection with both of your hands placed against your hips, wondering why the fuck you’re feeling so uneasy.

You actually surprised yourself by deciding to wear a bikini for tonight. You purchased one awhile back just for the heck of it, even if you never mustered up the courage to wear it. The bikini was high-waisted and red with a twist front on the bottoms. The bikini top was also red and a wireless bra. It was actually super comfortable against your skin and red was a striking color, but all you saw in the mirror was your plump stomach screaming at you to be covered, and your cleavage just wasn’t elevated enough to your liking. Your arms were also bothering you, as you could only focus on the excess fat that was noticeable as you moved them. You probably were gonna look like a whale next to Eric and the thought made you uncomfortable mixed with embarrassed.

So that’s why you brought a t-shirt to swim in just incase you chickened out. There’s nothing wrong with having a shirt on in the pool. I mean, it’s normal! Though, you couldn’t help but feel ashamed that you felt like shielding yourself and not letting yourself wear that bikini freely. It was only going to be you two together, so why were you making it so complicated?

“Fucking hell,” you sharply inhaled and let out a heavy sigh. You stared deeply into the mirror one last time, picking at your skin as you had no makeup on. Another thing you felt insecure about. You always had makeup on around Eric, but this time you didn’t for obvious reasons. “Ugh, whatever,” you groaned out before finally leaving the bathroom, fed up with all this negativity you felt towards yourself.

I mean, why did you care so fucking much? You knew deep down that Eric would never judge you. Any normal person wouldn’t think so hard about going for a swim. This is a casual activity, why were you overthinking it?

You walked through Eric’s massive house towards his patio. You already knew the ropes around his house, since this wasn’t your first time here. Though, you had only been here for things like baking brownies on Friday nights and playing Super Mario Party on the Nintendo Switch, not for using the pool.

You reached the glass sliding door that opened the patio and led yourself outside. His patio lights were on, illuminating his backyard so that it wasn’t completely dark out. You spotted Eric sitting on one of the pool chairs, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram reels obnoxiously loud on his phone. He seemed to be passing time while waiting for you before he got into the pool.

“Hey, you.” you made your way over to where he was sitting with a smile on your face.

Eric perked up at the sound of your voice and abandoned his phone, twisting his body towards you. “Finally! I was seriously about to call you to ask what’s taking so long.” Eric mimicked your smile and adjusted his arms to where they were now leaning back behind him.

You felt a flush of heat wave over your body, not due to the humid summer night, but due to Eric’s appearance. His hair has been permed for a while now and you just can’t help but admire how good he looks in curly hair. His dark brown curls complemented his naturally tanned-skin so well. He’s also already shirtless, in nothing but a pair of blue swim shorts and a chain adorning his neck. He also had a cute bracelet around his wrist and small hoops that dangled from his ears as they always did. Every detail of him just looked so beautiful to you.

You mentally slap yourself for gawking at your best friend. You scoffed in response, “I don’t doubt that you would’ve.”

He chuckles as he rises from his chair, brows furrowing in confusion as his eyes run down the length of your body. “I thought you were changing into your bathing suit?” he asked curiously.

The tips of your ears go hot as he questions. You stare at him like a deer in headlights, fingers going down to fidget with the tips of your hair.

“Oh yeah, I just didn’t like how it looked at me.” you shyly admitted. You couldn’t lie to Eric over small matters. Even if you were embarrassed, you still felt complied to always be honest when he asks you something. Though, it was hard to have deep conversations with Eric because he was a guy— of which, you possibly have a small crush on. This was all new to you and you were still learning on how to navigate your friendship.

“Why?” he simply asked, staring at you, eyes full of concern. You bit your lip as he looked at you, your body starting to get a little tense.

“I dunno, I just am not used to wearing a swimsuit,” you shrugged. “I actually don’t go swimming often so I’m not used to wearing one. I typically would just wear a shirt like I am now.” You rubbed your left foot against your right ankle as you spoke, starting to feel awkward in having this conversation.

“Oh,” was all Eric said, starting to frown a bit but quickly shook his head and crossed his arms. “You know, I don’t care what you wear as long as it makes you comfortable, but right now, it’s just you and me here,” he subtly smiles. “We’re gonna be in the water having fun and cooling off. I don’t want to pressure you or anything, but you’re safe around me.” Eric reassures you and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

You half smile while looking down at your feet. “I know,” you simply agreed.

You suddenly look up at the feeling of his dominant hand now on your left shoulder, patting it reassuringly. “Y/n, you don’t have to be shy in front of me. We’re good friends, let’s be comfortable with each other, yeah?” His eyes were full of tenderness as you met his gaze. You pouted your lips playfully in attempt to not get sappy at his words.

He was right though. You just want to have fun and you’re letting your insecurities get the best of you. You know Eric isn’t an asshole. He never judges anyone’s appearance and you know he’s a sweetheart.

You nod your head as you take in his words. “Thanks Eric, really.” your face flushed as he shook his head.

“You don’t need to thank me. I know people wear shirts in the pool but when I picked you up earlier, you said you brought a swimsuit, so I figured you wanted to wear it. You don’t have to feel shy.”

He licks his lips and pauses for a moment before continuing, “You always look good.” Eric rubbed the back of his neck and shyly looked to the side as his voice faltered uttering that last part. Your lips parted slightly as you processed that compliment. The corner of your lips then curled upwards and you let out a soft chuckle.

“Okay, I guess you’ve convinced me. It’s just us, right?” you said rhetorically, sighing deeply. I mean, you were mainly going to be in the water anyways, so why trip over this?

Eric smiles seeing you finally deciding to remove your t-shirt, allowing your bikini to be worn properly. You toss the shirt onto the chair he was sitting at, and adjust your bathing suit top’s straps. He timidly looks away as you do, grabbing his phone to connect it to his speaker to play some music while you guys swim.

You start moving towards the pool, ready to finally do what you came here to do and allow yourself to enjoy this time. Eric looks back up at you dancing to the song he put on while making way into the pool, your locks of hair twirling around your back with each step. His gaze then ‘accidentally’ wanders down to your red bottoms, his cheeks flushing once realizing he’s checking you out.

‘Oh wow,’ he thinks to himself as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to tame his thoughts, rubbing his lips against each other. He then hears you call out to him that the water feels good and to come join him.

Eric puts his phone down and looks at you, your form hidden underneath water, splashing and gleaming as your body felt more relaxed now.

“I’m coming!” He shouts before he starts running towards your direction. You start grinning at his words because you have a dirty ass mind, but it immediately falters once you realize he’s gonna cannonball. Your brows knitted as he made way closer, both hands shielding your face and eyes closed once he plunges into the pool, creating splashes of waves in your direction.

“Eric!” you playfully scold him for of course having to jump into the pool like a maniac. You rub your face after the splashes drenched your face and hair, tucking your hair back behind your ears, sucking in a breath. Eric emerges from beneath the water breathing heavily, laughing as he sticks his tongue out, grazing it over the corner of his lip.

“You’re such a guy.” you scoff at him, rolling your eyes. Eric raises a brow and then begins to splash more water your way. “I’m only having fun!” Eric raises both hands from his sides, gesturing to the pool and cheekily smiling at you as he shakes his head gently.

———————————————————————————

You two swam for about an hour. You guys tossed a beach ball for awhile, chatted about old gossip you always brought up when together, and even played mermaids upon your request— to which created plenty of laughter on your part seeing Eric take his role very seriously for awhile.

He then pleaded for you guys to race— which you initially declined, having no interest. He pouted at your disinterest, but started racing anyways. Water splashed all over your face for the nth time as he swam to the opposite end of the pool, leaving you behind sulking and rolling your eyes.

“I’m getting out!” you yelled and lifted yourself out the pool. Eric continued racing himself as you walked away to grab some towels nearby for the both of you. Once he made it to the end, he let out a sigh at your lack of desire to race. He clearly wanted to spend more time together in the water, but you were all tired out.

He sees your figure loosely drying your hair, and makes his way out the pool towards you. You met his gaze and nodded your head towards a towel you laid out for him. He silently thanked you and began drying himself, then wrapping it around his waist.

You ditched the now-damp towel you used for your hair and wrapped a fresh one around your figure, almost like a blanket. You both sat down together on one of the long pool chairs, soaking in the night while letting the air dry you guys some more.

“Do you wanna order some food? I’m really hungry,” Eric turns to look at you, your eyes meeting his at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah, before my stomach starts growling,” you chuckle as Eric smiles.

“Does pizza sound good? The usual, right?” Eric asks even though he’s already looking through his contacts, searching for the number of a local pizza place that has become a regular for you guys.

“Yes, please.” You cuddle into your towel as Eric calls the number, the pizza place answering after two rings.

He began ordering you guy’s usual and you can’t help but stare at him while he talks on the phone. His curly hair is wettish from all the swimming, some of the curls falling past his forehead. Every so often he’d toss his head a little to shake the hanging curls away from his eyes.

You just couldn’t help but admire how fine your best friend was. It was a crime that he walked around looking like a god. The jawline he had could probably leave a cut on your skin if you brushed against it with how defined it was. His side profile was beyond alluring and would make you double take when passing a glance. His beautiful, bronzed skin made him look so godly.

And he even had such a nice body. Eric frequented the gym, and his abs and muscles were definitely proof of that. He was proud of his body, and did his best to keep his prominent muscle’s defined by working on himself consistently. He was dripping with good looks.

Eric ends the call eventually and you’re ripped away from your wandering thoughts, crushing hard over your best friend.

“Whatcha thinking about?” Eric speaks in a playful tone, meeting your gaze after putting his phone down.

You awkwardly begin to laugh, “Just about how hungry I am.” you obviously lie.

Eric cocks his head and shoots you a grin, “You were staring at me, though.”

Your teeth began to tug on your bottom lip, before letting out another nervous laugh as you looked to the side.

“Well, I guess I was just waiting for you to finish ordering,” you replied nonchalantly, making a weak attempt at putting on a poker face even though you’ve already failed.

“You love spending time with me, huh? Can’t get enough of me?” Eric playfully hits your arm with his elbow, causing an ‘ow’ to escape your lips even though it barely hurt.

“Why do you always have to be such a tease?” you wrinkled your nose in question.

“Cause’ I like you,” Eric casually admits like nothing, his eyes having been scanning over your face this whole time since having ended the call.

Your lips parted as you blinked harshly, eventually letting free a forced laugh and your face forms a lopsided grimace.

“Can you be serious right now?” you scratched your head as you looked at Eric.

“I am.” Eric spoke softly, losing the playful tone completely.

He felt like he was gonna explode at his random confession. What you thought was harmless teasing was him actually flirting and him having romantic interest in you. You guys started out as friends but as time went on, he fell for you. After all the conversations and hangouts, he got to know you better and even from the first day, he thought you were such a pretty girl.

Though, he didn’t know when the proper time to confess was or if he even wanted to. You guys have such a solid friendship, and it seemed like you were fine with your stance.

Then again, you were very timid, so you often held back any talk involving feelings— at least with him. You weren’t the type to open up first. He usually had to question you to get an answer out of you— as much as you were willing to say, anyways.

“Like… as friends, right?” Confusion flooded your face as you hadn’t a clue of where he was going with this.

“Yeah, but… what if I said I meant it as more than that?” Eric had this hope-filled look clouding his face. He looked at you anticipating that you felt the same. Even at his random confession, he hopes that you can see how serious he is. That he didn’t just fuck up your friendship by making things weird and that you get the hint that he wants to be more with you.

“Okay— this is not funny. Literally, what are you going on about?” you scoffed and shook your head. You honestly couldn’t believe what he was alluding to. It just can’t be. No way in hell is Eric Sohn admitting that he likes you in that way. No damn way.

“I would never in my fucking life joke about something like this, Y/n. I know this is out of no where— hell, I wasn’t even sure if I wanted to tell you because I already appreciate what I have with you,” Eric sucked in a breath before continuing. “But I selfishly want to be more. After all this time together, I just can’t help but want to be able to hold you and call you my girlfriend every time I am around you.”

“I… I honestly think i’ve fallen in love with you.” Eric breathed out and swallowed hard as he looked at your now incredulous expression, his own eyes widening as he realized what he just said. Your mouth’s open in shock as you blinked excessively, trying to blink away at your now moist eyes.

“With me?” you laughed harshly at him and Eric’s lips turned down. “I think you’re mistaken,” your gaze shifted towards your feet as you continued. “You cannot love me in that way. I’m just… not perfect.” You’re in utter disbelief. You were way too insecure for your own good.

Of course you fucking loved him back. You tried to ignore it for so long, your stupid little crush on someone you accepted you couldn’t have because you felt that he was way out of your league and your status remained as just friends. He only saw you as a friend, you thought.

You were you and he was Eric fucking Sohn. He was on the baseball team, athletic, a gym rat, popular, out going, a sweetheart, and hot.

While you in comparison, stayed home most days you had zero obligations, barely had any hobbies, and had like 3 friends.

You felt unloveable because of how insecure you were. You didn’t think someone like you was capable of having romantic feelings reciprocated. You felt unworthy. Eric could easily bag an L.A. model if he wanted to. So why the fuck is he here saying he wants to be with you?

Eric blankly stares at you for a moment. His face has gone pale and he feels his throat getting tight. He’s trying to process what you have said. Where is all this coming from?

“You’re perfect to me.” Eric reaches out for your hand and you get goosebumps at the action. Your eyes shift to where your hand is now in his, his thumb stroking your skin gently.

“Eric…” you barely whisper before removing your hand from his hold, looking away and missing the sadness in his eyes at the loss of contact and rejection.

“You cannot be with someone like me… I mean, look at me and then look at you! You are fucking amazing, Eric,” you finally look at him to gesture your right hand at his figure. “You could have anyone in this world and you’re trying to tell me that you’re in love with me? Have you seen me?”

Tears well up in your eyes as you remove the towel you had draped around you from your body. Your fingers roam around your stomach and you harshly pull at your love handles. “This can’t be what you’re attracted to,” you swallow hard, feeling so vulnerable right now.

You felt ugly. Society has told you that you needed to lose weight to be loved. You needed to be slim or appear a certain way in order for everyone to be kind and pay any mind to you. Not many people bothered to get to know you. Even though Eric has been your friend for a while now, you still find it hard to believe someone as handsome as him wanted to be around someone like you.

No guy ever showed any desire in wanting to be with you romantically or physically, or even as a friend. All your friends with ease had people lining up to be with them and you felt so lonely— so unwanted.

Your whole existence, you’ve always felt unworthy and everyone’s last choice. You felt like something was wrong with you and you’ve sorted accepted it.

Eric sat in silence as he took in your words. He had no idea you felt this deeply about yourself, how you saw yourself in a negative light. He thinks back to when you came out in your shirt and said how you weren’t feeling yourself in your bikini which prompted you to come out covered. You were self conscious. He looked at you with distraught and teary eyes. He was heartbroken to hear you think so lowly of yourself when in his eyes, you were practically Aphrodite mixed with an angel.

“Y/n, I didn’t know you felt this way,” Eric’s eyes softened as you looked down to the concrete, feeling ashamed and embarrassed of yourself right now.

“I’m sorry if anyone has ever made you feel unworthy or uncomfortable to live as yourself. I’m sorry that you cannot see the beauty in yourself,” Eric choked out.

“But I promise you, that you are so beyond beautiful inside and out,” he licked his lips and shook his head. “You don’t understand how beautiful you are. How much I enjoy spending time with you. Why do you think I insist we hangout at least once a week?”

Eric lets out a chuckle which prompts you to look up at him. “After every hangout, or even after every class we had together, I was already longing for the next time we’d see each other. I’ve been desperate for you… you consume my thoughts, Y/n.”

Your face turns crimson as he says all this to you, processing his every word. It did begin to make sense. He’s the one who asked for your number first. He always invites you over to his home. He actually seems to care about you. You chew on your lip at the realization. You were so caught up in your own self consciousness.

You never have imagined that someone could love you in this way in reality.

Eric notices you begin to soften up a bit and his lips curl upwards, “I like that you can handle my silly antics and loudness, and always laugh instead of seriously being annoyed. I like that you have such a kind heart, and are always willing to make time for others— even if that means sacrificing your own obligations and time.” Eric looked at you in adoration, like a puppy in love. You have to admit, your heart swells at his words, and it brings a slight smile to your face.

“Oh come on, you’re so cheesy.” you playfully slap Eric’s hand as you sniffle.

He bites his lower lip and rubs his chin before continuing, “I also like when you have your hair up in a ponytail and leave two strands out on either side. I don’t see you with your hair up often, so I get excited when you do have it up.” You grab a piece of your hair and begin to play with it, face flushed as he keeps going.

“And,” he pauses for a brief moment, blushing as he whispers the next part. “I like it when I see you and I can tell you’re not wearing a bra.”

You drop the strand of hair and look at him with wide eyes, face full of sudden shock. Are you hearing correctly?

“Your nipples are always so hard, baby,” he chuckles as his gaze moves towards your chest.

“Even now, I can see them poking through,” he nods his head at your breasts. You look down and move your hands onto your chest, feeling your nipples through the top. You glance back up at Eric, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

“Was that cheesy, too?” he questions, tilting his head to the side, shit eating grin smothering his face.

“Eric!” you scold the boy and mischievously hit his arm for suddenly admitting he stares at your breasts often. Though, your thighs instinctively press together at his lewd words, face still crimson.

Your best friend has admitted all these things to you. He sees you the way you see him, and it all feels like a hallucination. You usually feel so insecure, but he sees you like gold. You’re nothing but stunned right now.

Eric laughs as he wraps an arm around you, making you shiver at the sudden contact.

His hand reaches over your shoulder, accidentally brushing over close to your breast, resulting in you jolting at the sudden action as you felt sensitive to the touch.

Eric immediately removes his hand and leans back. “Shit, sorry!” he doesn’t hesitate to say. He’s embarrassed at his attempt in being smooth. He doesn’t want to scare you off.

“It’s fine,” you shyly speak. You have to admit, you were getting a bit turned on. After him showering you in compliments and confessions, you were now slowly accepting that he actually does want you in the same way you’ve fantasized over him.

Not only does he seem to like you for your personality, but also physically.

“No it’s not. I don’t know why I thought touching you like that without permission was okay. You’re still vulnerable,” Eric feels guilty and moves his eyes to look away from you in embarrassment. You haven’t even responded on whether or not you accept his feelings. I mean, you seem fine now.

Of course your insecurities won’t disappear overnight, but you looked more relaxed. He just hopes you don’t feel the need to shy away from him anymore.

“Eric…” you softly speak. He looks up at you curiously, humming as your eyes are already on him, looking at him softheartedly.

“I love you, too.” you murmur tenderly.

Eric’s heart suddenly starts beating fast. He adjusts his posture and a smile creeps up to his face as he registers your words for a moment.

“Are you serious?” he looks at you excitedly with flashing eyes.

“One thousand percent,” you gain the confidence to reach over to run your thumb along his cheek, taking your time to caress him. Eric feels the hair on his skin begin to stand up as you touch him intimately. His eyes shut as you take in his face, feeling it for the first time.

You smile at how cute he looks, softening under just the touch of your thumb.

“I’ll be yours if you’ll have me.” Eric states, his eyes opening to look at your own glistening ones. His face leans into your touch, feeling so good that you’re finally embracing him like this.

“Of course I’ll be your girlfriend,” you look up at him lovingly.

His heart swells at this moment. The moment he’s been longing for, where he can finally call you his.

Eric is going to make sure you feel loved every second of the day from now on.

He removes your hand from his face and holds it gently within his own. With his other hand, it is now his turn to stroke your face with his warm palm. You swallow as you feel yourself melting like ice at his hot touch.

Eric is so close to you, yet so far. You have him now, so that means you can do all the things you’ve longed for with him.

“I want you to k— kiss me,” you suddenly blurt out, gaining trust to do so.

Eric pauses his delicate stroke’s against your cheek, and looks at you in surprise.

“I’ve never kissed anyone before,” you shyly admitted. You fluttered your eyelashes at him and stared at him pleadingly. “Please teach me, Eric.”

Eric swears he feels his dick twitch at your eagerness. With a simple sentence, his brain feels like it’s on fire. Oh how he’s longed to kiss your pink lips for what seems like forever.

Your innocence is cute, he thinks. How you’re willing to open up to him like this. How you are allowing yourself to let him love you in this way.

“You’re so precious,” Eric breathes out as he begins caressing your cheek again. You look at his eyes that carry a sense of longing as he scans your face, soaking up your features.

“We can take it slow,” Eric murmurs and you nod.

Eric’s thumb moves to your bottom lip, tracing the lines and feeling how plump it is. Your palms began to sweat in anticipation, and your heart rate increases at the build up.

Your eyes are open still, watching him curiously as he grazes his thumb over your lower lip gently, which makes his own heart flood in an ocean of warmth.

Eric’s thumb drops and his dominant hand moves to gently cup your jaw. His other hand pulls you closer against his chest, hand now resting on your side. You slightly shiver at his touch, fingers dancing over your love handles.

“You can touch me too, baby,” Eric nods at you, seeing you’re a bit tense and don’t really know what to do even though you so desperately want to feel his lips on yours already.

You hesitantly place your hand over his chest, rubbing the area carefully. Your fingers graze over his nipple and his eyes immediately shut at the feeling. He inhales sharply at your movements, and you can’t help but chuckle seeing him affected like this just by your touch.

Your other hand rests on the back of his neck along the nape, beginning to tangle your fingers in his curls and it feels like home for the both of you.

You don’t know what to do next, so you just continue combing through his hair. Though, you finally close your eyes, signaling to him that you’re ready for a kiss.

Eric’s lips curl upwards at how cute this is— you waiting for him to take the lead. He finds you very endearing like this.

He caresses your side as he slowly pulls your jaw close. Your lips separate faintly while he does so, awaiting for your lips to meet.

His eyes shut as he captures your bottom lip within his lips. He tilts your head ever so slightly so that you don’t bump noses, and your fingers messily fidget with the nape of his neck as he gently sucked your balmy lip.

Eric’s lips against yours feels electric. You allow him to guide you and you slowly get the hang of it, you soon after kissing him back. The kiss feels so magical. The feeling of his lips against yours sends sparks all throughout your body. You feel as with every movement his lips make against yours, you’re bound to explode like a firework at the passionate sensation.

You lose yourself in his lips, his hands soothing your body in the process, and nothing else matters except for Eric Sohn kissing you.

He pulls back for a moment, and you both stare at each other in awe at what you’ve shared. Eric suddenly lifts his rear off the chair for a bit, removing the towel he had wrapped around his waist and tosses it on the ground. He then decides to pull you over his lap, seating you on top of him with your legs wrapped around him. Your mouth opens agape at the action, your hands moving to his shoulders to steady yourself.

“Am I not too heavy for this?” you cringe, feeling like you can’t even be in this position for a second before it gets uncomfortable for Eric’s hold.

“Nonsense— you fit perfectly, baby,” Eric says. He spreads his legs a bit to make it more comfortable for you.

His hand rests on your back, fingers rubbing it soothly. His fingers trace the valleys of your stretch marks that decorate your lower back, and he smiles at the feeling of your skin.

“S’ gorgeous.” he murmurs, your cheeks heat up in response. Eric’s lips lean in to press against your pink cheeks, leaving tender, wet kisses all over your face. “You’re such a pretty girl.” he announces as you giggle at his affection towards you.

You crave for his lips on you again, so you take the risk of moving to glide your tongue over his bottom lip, begging to be invited in his mouth for seconds. A groan of satisfaction vibrates through Eric’s chest and he lets you in. Your tongues greet each other as your lips enveloped. A moan escapes your throat at feeling the wetness of his tongue against your own. You’ve suddenly lost your inhibitions after hearing all of Eric’s praises and tasting his pillowy lips. This kiss was sensual, becoming all hot and breathy in desire for one another.

Eric’s teeth gently graze over your bottom lip and you can’t help but move your body from the pleasure, resulting in you grinding down on Eric’s lap.

You pull back for a breath and your heart misses a beat as you feel something hard press against the fabric of your bottoms. You gasp at the foreign feeling.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Eric breathes out and goes to pet your hair. “We can stop if you want, just tell me,” Eric says, face turning red.

One of your hands moves to fiddle around his neck, admiring the chain that rested against his collarbones. You bat your eyelashes as you rub yourself against Eric’s crotch again, eliciting a deep groan out of him, his eyes drawn shut from your actions. You bite your lip at the stimulation it brought to your core. There’s a strange feeling growing in the pit of your stomach. This was all new to you, so it was very thrilling.

You lean over his neck and tenderly begin peppering kisses all over, his hips bucking up at the feeling of your mouth on his sweet spot.

“Mhm,” you whimper at the friction of his bulge against your core, which captivates Eric. The sound of your pretty moans and the way your body responds to him has blood rushing straight to his cock.

“What are you doing, princess?” Eric gently pulls you back from his neck, looking at your desperate eyes with his own, wetting his lips with his tongue.

You continue to rub your core against his crotch as he introduces that nickname. Your arms wrap around his neck and your fingers get lost in his curls once again.

“You like when I call you that, huh?” Eric nods his head at you, smirk prevalent on his face.

You whine at his teasing, hiding your face in his neck. “Eric…” you announce.

“Hm?” he hums, rubbing your back soothingly.

You pull back from his neck to look at him. He presses his lips together as you bashfully look at him. Your lips part in wanting to say something, but you hesitate in doing so, moving your gaze away from his own.

“What is it, baby?” Eric coos as he cups your jaw. “You can tell me,” he encourages you since you’ve suddenly gone shy.

“I— I want to taste you, Eric.” you practically whisper to him.

He chuckles, “You want more kisses?”

He sees you cutely furrow your brows with lips slightly pouted, gently shaking your head. “I don’t mean like that. I mean like… let me help you out,” with heavy lidded eyes, you gesture towards his manhood.

Eric’s lips gape slightly as it registers what you’re saying. He cannot believe what he’s hearing. You have no experience and yet you’re beyond eager. You’re so needy for him and it is fucking turning him on. He could probably cum right now in his swim shorts just from the kissing and grinding.

But, he doesn’t want you to rush into things so suddenly in the heat of the moment. He wants your first’s to be perfect. Even if you guys knew inside that you trust one another, he still wants to be sure.

“Y/n, let me take you on a date first at least, hm?” Eric rubs your thigh gingerly. “I don’t want you to do anything just because i’m hard right now. We can wait until you’re ready,” Eric softly smiles.

You’re still pouting, and let out a huff of frustration at his words. “I just want to taste it.” you whine out while your hips rut down into his, which draws a moan out of Eric, his fingers pressing deeply into your thigh in response. You sigh at the feeling.

“I’ve dreamed about giving you head since I met you,” you confess as you continue, drunk off the feeling of his cock through the thin pieces of fabric. “I promise I want to, Eric. It’s all I want to do tonight. We don’t have to go further than that— it’s what i’m comfortable with for now. We can save all the other stuff for another time. But right now, I just wanna please you if you’ll let me,” you babble, giving him pleading eyes and he see’s how bad you want it.

He wonders what happened to you being coy not that long ago— not that he’s complaining or anything, but you’re now feening over him. This feels like a dream. You wanted to please him so bad and he just could never say no to you, not in a million years.

He would be a fool to turn you down.

He lets out a deep sigh and tsks, his hands snaking around to grip your hips to keep you steady. “Okay, princess. I’d hate to ever say no to you,” Eric goes to chase your lips, sealing the deal. The kiss has you mewling into his mouth and he gulps hard at your noise.

You pull back from his lips and go to leave a tender kiss on the corner before he helps you get off his lap. You stand up as he stays seated, curiously watching your movements. You crouch down and your hands are on the towel Eric tossed earlier, starting to spread it neatly on the ground so your knees can rest over it.

“Here?” Eric questions as you get on your knees and your eyes lock. He bites back a groan as he has to now look down to meet your eyes, seeing you on the ground all submissive on your knees with your cleavage perfectly on display. It has him screaming internally.

“Yeah,” you say as you begin to stroke Eric’s knee. “I’m too impatient to go inside.”

Eric laughs and bends forward to press a kiss on your forehead, your nose scrunching cutely as his lips make contact against your skin. His hands then goes to cup your cheeks. “I’ll be as gentle as possible and guide you if you need it. Just tap my thighs or tell me if you want to stop. Okay, baby?”

“Okay,” you say and nod your head. Eric’s lips give you one last kiss on the corner of your mouth, and he lets you go.

You swallow hard, mentally questioning yourself on how you want to go about this. Eric watches you, smirking as he can practically see the wheels turn on your head. He’ll guide you, but only if he see’s you struggling or if you ask for it. He wants to see what you can do, since you seem to be so eager for his cock.

You begin by inching a bit closer to his crotch, just between his knees. Your hands move to touch his abdomen, running your fingers along the defined lines of his abs. Your lips pucker up as you press hot kisses along his stomach, appreciating how beautiful Eric’s build was. Eric’s dominant hand goes to rest in your locks, massaging your scalp as you kiss his tummy.

“You like my body, baby?” a smug look is present on Eric’s face as he says so.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe out shamelessly, pausing when you’ve gotten closer to the skin just below his belly button.

You soon remove yourself and he lets his hand fall while your hands move to the waistband of his swim shorts. You play with the fabric a bit in nervousness, still figuring out how you’re going to approach this sensual act and wondering if Eric will be satisfied with your performance.

You finally tug his shorts down and fully off. His cock then immediately flops up against his abdomen, slapping the skin.

You gasp at first sight of his cock. It’s pretty lengthy and fat, erect with precum residing on his tip. You gulped as Eric’s right hand moves over to his shaft, beginning to stroke himself as he nibbles on his bottom lip. With pursed lips you look at him, feeling tingly and flushed all over as he makes eye contact with you while he touches himself.

“You wanna touch it?” Eric raises a brow as he slicks his cock in his wetness. You’re salivating at the sight of his naked form playing with himself. He looks so pretty on display like this for you.

He lets go of himself and you finally start to test the waters, hesitantly grabbing the base of his cock and stroking the skin. Eric hisses once he feels your small hand over his base. “Fuck, baby.”

You bite back a smile at his reaction and you start to give the tip kitten licks while rubbing the underside of his cock with your thumb. The taste of his precum lands on your tongue, causing Eric to purr in pleasure.

“Starting off as such a tease.” he mumbles while his legs instinctively spread to give you more room and his left arm goes behind the back of his neck and head, giving you a perfect view of the little sailboat and paw print tattoos that decorate his bicep. So fucking hot, you think to yourself.

You experimentally press your tongue along the underside of his cock, gliding it over a vein all the way up towards his tip, then deciding to take the head of it in your mouth.

A hearty groan rips from Eric’s throat as he feels all these sensations, and you begin to bob your head over a bit of his length, your hand jerking off the rest of his shaft.

“Breathe through your nose, baby, and hollow your cheeks,” he advises you between breathy moans.

You slowly challenge yourself to go deeper, coating his cock with your saliva. Eric is entranced by the slurping sounds that start to escape your lips and becomes drunk off the feeling of your warm mouth encompassing his cock.

His eyes shut while his hips can’t help but buck into your mouth at the feeling. You choke at the sudden movement, removing your mouth and gasping for air, sobbing out a moan as his length pops out your mouth.

“Fuck, princess. Mhm— sorry, can’t help myself,” Eric chuckles, licking his lips as his hand falls into your hair, caressing it gently and keeps it from falling around your face.

Your eyes meet and you hold contact, both of your eyes each going dark with lust while you take him in your mouth again, your left hand running up and down on what you can’t fit while your right decides to rest on his balls, beginning to massage and fondle them.

“That’s it, baby! What a good girl, playing with my balls without being asked, hmm— you’re an angel.”

Eric praises you and your moans vibrate around his length in response. Your sucking starts to become more enthusiastic at his praises. You remember to curl your lips over your top teeth so they don’t touch him when you start to feel confident to take him deeper.

Eric’s gaze is fixated down on you as you bob your head, being such a brave girl and taking as much of him as you can. Your head rotates from side to side while sucking him, and your right hand is still rubbing circles along his balls, groping them and loving how heavy they feel in your hold.

Eric can’t help but grip your hair a bit tight as your mouth is driving his body insane. You gag around him as you take a bit more than you’re able and he carefully pulls you off. You cry out as you breathe in the fresh air, a string of saliva still connecting your lips with his cock. Eric growls seeing his cock coated in your saliva and his precum, and then moves his vision towards your mouth, your own spit now raining down your chin.

You inhale sharply as you give your mouth a short break and your right hand starts to jerk him off, feeling the wetness of his shaft glaze your hand.

“You’re s’ so big, Eric,” you whine and your lips stay parted, running your tongue along the inside of your mouth. “Jaw is starting to hurt.” you whimper as you look up and flutter your lashes at him, throwing your head back, thighs squeezed together as you tighten your hold around his cock.

“Just a little longer, baby. Getting close,” Eric coos and guides your lips back to his cock again. You run his tip all over your lips like a lipstick, humming in satisfaction at the wetness. You want nothing more than to drown in his essence.

Although your jaw is growing tired, you’re desperate to make him cum. You force your mouth to open wider and bob up and down as far as you can, sucking more of him as much as your mouth can handle.

The suction and slurping noises start to become more frequent from you as you pick up the pace. Eric’s breathing becomes more ragged at your rhythms and pretty sounds.

“Mhm, fuck! Getting close princess— where do you want my cum?” his brows furrow as he peers down at you, tears beginning to form in your eyes when you bring his head far back enough to trigger your gag reflex.

You start to get sloppy with your movements and meet his gaze with your own pleading eyes as he attempts to pull you back by your hair, though, your left hand finds purchase on his base and your right hand’s fingers dig deep onto the skin of his leg.

He laughs in seeing you not having any desire to come off him, “So this is what you meant when you said you were hungry earlier, hm? Can’t believe my pretty, perfect girl wants me to cum in her mouth for her first time. So fucking hot.” Eric’s cock twitches and balls tighten up once he’s approaching his release, brows knitting together and mouth agape, beginning to whimper in overstimulation.

“Mhm— Eric!” you muffle around his cock while your pussy throbs from listening to his pretty sounds leaving his lips as a result of you and from his fat length twitching in your mouth.

You continue to suck and jack off sloppily what you can’t fit, and before you know it, his hot, creamy load coats your tongue and paints your mouth white.

Eric’s head is thrown back, abs and jaw clenching as his release creates spasms throughout his entire body, sighing your name over and over weakly like a mantra.

His cum feels hot, thick, and sticky in your mouth. His release tastes slightly sweet, and you swirl and swish it around your mouth before swallowing as much as you can.

Your eyes are heavy lidded as you gently suck the head of his cock like a lollipop in attempt to drink up every last drop of his cum. You bring your lips to the tip and kiss it a few times, rubbing his balls tenderly to soothe him.

“Atta’ girl. Good fucking girl.” Eric praises you, groaning with a raspy voice.

You huff out a breath as you remove yourself entirely from his length. Wetness from tears decorates your eyelashes and stains your cheeks, vision somewhat blurred from all the work you put on his cock. Drool mixed with Eric’s cum is dripping down your lips and chin, and you continue to let spit fall, your mouth open with eyes closed as you try to calm yourself.

Looking at you, Eric feels numb in the head seeing you all fucked in the face from his cock. What a gorgeous sight.

After a few seconds, you both slowly start to calm down your uneven breathing. Your hand goes to wipe off whatever is left on your face, but not before Eric tuts at you and carefully hoists you up against him, his lips attaching against your own in a beat of his heart. Both of your lips move hungrily in sync and you moan into the kiss.

“You did so well, princess. You were such a good girl for me. The most perfect girl, and all mine.” he growls in between kisses as he tastes your saliva mixed with his own cum, and places you on his lap. Your hands go to wrap around his neck and one of his hands smooths over the fat of your middle, massaging it lovingly while his other hand rests on your neck. You shift a bit as he does so, gasping once you become aware of how damp and creamy your bottoms are. Eric seems to feel your wetness over his dick, grinning as the tip of your ears turn red and your cheeks flush pink in embarrassment.

“Aw, my pretty girl is all soaked ‘cause of me?” his hand goes to play with the flesh of your ass and you whine at his words. He kisses your cheeks sweetly and nuzzles his nose against your own. His heart feels so full to be so close to you like this. To have you in his arms and sharing intimate moments is a dream come true. You feel the same as he embraces you and is so gentle to you, feeling so loved by your best friend turned boyfriend.

“Can’t wait to take you on a date and treat you like the princess you are,” he whispers. “Then, when you’re ready, i’ll be sure to make you cum as hard as you made me. Sound’s good, baby?” Eric murmurs and you grab a hold of his chin, ready to plant another kiss on his lips before the sound of a ring causes you both to jolt up.

Eric groans, eyes rolling back in annoyance as he twists his head to see that it’s his phone ringing. You press a quick kiss to his jawline as he answers it, massaging his scalp while he talks on the phone.

“Hello… Oh, you’re here?— I’ll be right out!… Sorry to keep you waiting… Okay thanks, bye!”

“Shit, the pizza’s here.” Your eyes go wide as you register the call and his words and you quickly get off Eric. He rushes to put on his swim shorts and immediately bolts inside to get the food at the front door, leaving you outside by yourself.

You laugh at how fast he scurries off and then you sigh at the feeling of you bottoms sticking to your core within all the wetness. “I hope he lets me borrow a pair of boxers or something,” you say out loud to yourself as you make your way inside, ready to dig into some real food.

As much as Eric’s meat filled your mouth up nicely, you could use a couple slices of pizza to now fill up your empty stomach.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

#ericscroptop #eric sohn #the boyz #the boyz eric #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #the boyz fluff #eric sohn x reader #eric sohn smut #eric sohn scenarios #eric sohn imagines #tbz eric #tbz x reader #chubby reader #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop smut

554 notes · View notes

darnell-la · 3 months

Note

smut suggestion for rafe,

maybe like:

readers first time

being jjs sister and you guys have to be quiet bc he’s next door

something dark like with jealousy

“I deserve you” - Rafe Cameron

word count: 2.3k

pairing: jealous!Rafe Cameron x reader

warning: jealousy, sneaky around y/n’s house at night, hair pulling, choking, rough sex, risky sex, orgasms, begging, etc.

note: we added all of the requesters suggestions in this one story. we hope it’s enough!

WE DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OUR STORIES!

————————————————————————

3rd person pov

Everyone in Figure eight knows about y/n. Not just because she’s JJ’s sister, but because she’s pretty hot for a Pogue. Everyone knows that, and now she’s called “one of them,” when she doesn’t ask to be.

She knows how they treat her brother and is not down with it. The Kooks constantly tell her how she’d be welcomed with open arms while the men tell her as long as she greets them with open legs.

“Look, we’re just throwing a small party after the biggest win a Pogue could have ever made,” JJ said as y/n got food from their refrigerator. “They never cared about you before, so why would they now?” Y/n made a good point.

“It’s not about making them like us, y/n. It’s way more. I just bought this big house with Kie and the rest, you love here, we’re rich and a lot more. It’s about time we rub it in their face,” JJ said as he sent out tweets about the party he’s hosting tonight.

“Ugh, whatever,” y/n sighed as she stormed out of the kitchen. “I’ll make it up to you!” He said, making her laugh, because she knew he will. “You better,” she replied before making her way upstairs.

It’s now late at night and everyone is here. No adults but their kids. Everyone’s drinking, smoking, or doing some drugs while y/n’s sneaking past people to get snacks before she stays upstairs for the rest of the night.

“Look who decided to show up! Little miss perfect,” some drunk girl spat as y/n passed her to get to her cabinet. “What’s wrong? You don’t want to party? Are we too good for you?” She said as he friends laughed.

“You’re definitely not,” y/n said before grabbing her chips and a couple water bottles. “Aye, ladies. I think it’s time to leave it,” a familiar voice said. As y/n looked back, she could see how everyone around her was just as shocked as she was.

“And you’re here because?” Y/n asked, seeing, Rafe with that dumb look on his face. We all know he wouldn’t want to be here, so why did he bring himself?

“Just here to congratulate y’all,” Rafe said, knowing he’s not. He would never. “You could have done that when they noticed us a couple months ago. You know, when you were pissed and whiny next to your stepmom,” Y/n clapped at him.

“Wasn’t the right time,” Rafe said, standing up for himself. “Aren’t you supposed to be doing time? You know, for murder?” Y/n asked, making people gasp.

Rafe knew what he was getting himself into when he stepped through these doors to provoke everyone.

“Look, that’s in my past, and I bet if you gave me a chance, you’d see how much I’ve changed,” he genuinely meant, but everyone knows that his temper is still there.

“Whatever you said, Cameron. Your sisters with John B if that’s who you’re here for,” y/n said as she walked passed him, bumping into his arm on purpose because she can’t find the respect for him.

When y/n first met Rafe, she had thought he was sweet and too attractive to be real, but now that years passed, she can’t see this sweetness in him anymore. Maybe the attractiveness, but anyone can say that.

After y/n made it to her room, she got set up. She placed her door on her bed and then got undressed until she was in her underwear and bra. She turned on some movie before she hopped in her bed and snacked on her chips.

The whole night was semi-quiet for y/n. She wanted a few movies before putting everything to the side and lying down. It had gotten very late for her, and she plans on going to the mall with the girls tomorrow.

The whole night for Rafe was boring. Usually, he likes it when girls approach him, but he doesn’t come here for them. He came here to talk to y/n and apologize for his passed.

He knows it’s crazy, knowing he and her never had anything since he was after JJ and the others. Y/n was barely home since her school provided a place to stay since she and JJ’s father were always gone.

Rafe talked to a few guys the whole night as he avoided JJ and the others. As the party got smaller, JJ took this chance to go upstairs and hide in one of the bathrooms in the house.

Since almost every room here had a bathroom, he figured no one would think about using the bathroom in the hallway, so he stayed in their quiet and bored for a good two hours.

After time passed, he heard no one in the hallways but JJ’s music coming from his room. Rafe slowly opened the bathroom door and closed it before searching for y/n’s room.

Finding where y/n slept wasn't hard since the girl had a certain style and her room door was covered. Rafe chuckled at how cute this girl was before slowly opening her door.

The room was slightly dark, so he couldn’t see y/n at first, but the second he closed her room door and locked it, he turned her dim lamp on, next to her room door on her work desk.

There she was, laid on her bed and sound asleep like he wanted her. He can’t freak her out just yet.

Rafe took his time walking to her bed, thinking he had this all under control until her phone notification went off.

Y/n groaned as she turned in her bed. She annoyingly grabbed her phone and put it on silent. Rafe thought he was safe, and took a slow step towards her after she laid back down, but she heard him.

Y/n’a head shot up and turned towards Rafe, seeing his figure only a few feet in front of her. “Hey,” he looked at her awkwardly, knowing he shouldn’t be in here.

“Rafe, what the fuck are-“ She got too loud so he jumped at her, pushing her down on her mattress as he covered her mouth at the same time. “Ssh ssh ssh!” He spat, hoping she didn’t wake anyone.

“Hey, hey! If you stay quiet, I’ll let you go, okay? I just want to talk,” he said as she tried speaking through his big ringed hand. “Y/n, just please. Please let me talk,” he said, sounding desperate, and she could hear it in his voice.

She sighed and shut up with an eye roll. She has no choice. “Thank you,” he said. He hesitantly pulled his hand away from her mouth, letting her speak.

“Be fast,” she said. “It’s nothing too much, but I just wanted to apologize. You know, for everything. I don’t want to get into it because it’s late and I had to sneak around and- I just need a break, you know? I just wanna break,” he said as he got comfortable on her bed.

“A break from what?” She asked, slowly leaning up. “From everyone hating me. I’m not saying I don’t deserve it, but I want to change. I did change but then things happened and I just- I just can’t go and it fucked me,” he explained himself.

“Yeah, you did,” y/n responded to his confession, not really hearing him out at first, but she noticed her response what a bit shitty after she noticed his body language change.

“Hey, Rafe, look. Your dad fucked you and you followed him. That’s what sons do, you know? But you have to admit, you hate Pogues all around. With or without your father. And you’re cocky and get what you want,” she spoke.

“I know you’re different than you act, but you also don’t try hard enough,” Y/n said. “But I do! Like for example, me and you. I tried making you happy but you left. You ignored me and went to these other rich pricks,” Rafe grew angry already.

“I didn’t leave you like you didn’t deserve it. You like, you hate Pogues, and I’m a Pogue. You also flirt with any given bitch, and I’m not down for that,” y/n defended herself.

“You’re different,” was his only argument. “No, I’m not. I was just nice to you, and that’s why you liked me. Clearly looks weren’t enough because you kept going back to Vanessa,” y/n reminded herself.

“I didn’t want her, and you know that. You even flirted with my best friend,” Rafe argued back. “Correction. He flirted with me. I was just being nice,” Y/n told the truth as Rafe scoffed.

“Yeah, fuckin right. You drank with him and fucking giggled like the whore of the night. You never do that shit with me! You do it with every other dude, but me!” Rafe got up from her bed and he grabbed his face.

“Well, maybe it’s because they don’t call me a whore and get pissed off at the smallest shit without asking me about the situation!” Y/n yelled and whispered at him.

“I get pissed off because you’re easy for them, but never me. Why not me! What have I done for you to act like such a fuckin- A fuckin-“ Rafe stuttered, trying to keep himself in.

“Like what Rafe, huh? Like fucking what!? Like a whore? Like a bitch? Like a slut? Say it!” Y/n got up from her bed and got in his face. “I did that shit because of you! They at least deserve me,” second after her last words, Rafe grabbed her by her neck and pulled her into him.

“So I don’t? I don’t fuckin’ deserve you because what? I care for you? I’m obsessed and would do anything for you?” Rafe spat at her as she fought against his grip.

“No, no, tell me, y/n. Tell me I don’t deserve you, and see what fuckin’ happens,” Rafe threatened. “You don’t-“Before she could even say the word, he turned around and forced her to her knees on her bed.

Y/n went to get off, but he grabbed her hair and kept her in a certain position, forcing her to stay right in front of him, back facing his stomach.

“You’re very ungrateful. I push dudes away from you at parties, I threaten people for you, I yell at other bitches and all you have for me is that I don’t deserve you!? You’re a fuckin’ stuck bitch,” Rafe couldn’t hold himself anymore.

The muscular man undid his belt before pushing his shorts and boxers down enough to expose his length. “Rafe, get out of my house!” Y/n yelled whispered, not wanting to wake everyone up.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe said under his breath as he rapped y/n’s panties clean off. “Hey, what the- Rafe, stop it!” Y/n began to move around to wiggle away from him but Rafe had other plans.

The strong man forced his cock into her slightly wet cunt, making her take every inch at the first thrust.

“Yeah, I know,” Rafe pulled y/n back by her hair, whispering in her ear. “It feels good, doesn’t it? This is the Kook dick you’ve been lookin’ for, huh?” He licked her ear as she struggled taking his immediate thrusts.

“F-Fuck,” y/n whined. Rafe grabbed y/n’s waist with his free hand to pull her weak body back into him, making her take him rather she liked it or not. He can tell she liked it. Everything about her moans says she does.

“Gonna keep fuckin’ other Kook’s now? Or is my cock enough? Tell me my fuckin’ cock’s enough for your slut cunt,” Rafe growled in her ear, slightly scaring her, but the way he fucks her is only putting her in the mood.

“Say it, now,” Rafe said in a warning voice. “Y-You’re enough!” Y/n moaned loudly. Rafe quickly took his hand that was placed on her hip and used it to cover her mouth.

“Hey, hey, hey, princess! Keep it down,” Rafe said with a chuckle as he thrust harder into her to test how far he could keep this going. “Don’t want your brother waking up and seeing this scene, right?” He asked, now completely scaring her.

“Look at that. The whore’s quiet now,” he taunted, before he pushed her face down into her bed, forcing her ass to angle upwards as her back arched.

“Let’s see how long that shit will last,” Rafe said before he began slamming into her soaked pussy. The sound of their skin clapping filled the room, as well as she cried for him to stop or at least slow down.

“I bet you didn’t tell the others to stop fuckin’ you. Am I right? You just let them fuck you, but did they cum in you?” Rafe asked. “Did they cum in you!?” He asked more seriously.

“No! I swear!” Y/n cried as the knot in her stomach burst. “I know, baby. I asked then myself,” Rafe used one hand to snake under her body and rub her sensitive clit as he pulled her hair, still keeping her arched.

“P-Please, Rafe. I-I can’t take it,” y/n begged as Rafe’s cock twitched. “You’re gonna take it,” Rafe groans began to fill the room as his orgasm hit him like a headache.

“Fuuuuck!” Rafe groaned like a wild animal as he fucked his cum deep into y/n’s cunt until she was filled to his liking. “That’s it, baby. Take it all,” Rafe whispered in her ear as she moved her hips so her clit rubbed on his fingers faster.

“God,” she squealed as her second orgasm washed over her. “Yeah! Yeah!” Rafe praised as he helped her as she shook and couldn’t fuck against him anymore. “That’s my girl,” Rafe kissed all over her neck as his cum began to leave out of her hole with his cock still deep in her.

424 notes · View notes

darlingdekarios · 10 months

Text

no place like home.

rating: explicit. 18+ only. length: 17,578 content: The Homelander x f!reader, 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.

“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.

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.

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.”

masterlist.

#the homelander #homelander #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander smut #homelander fanfiction #the boys smut #the boys fanfiction

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tismrot · 7 months

Text

The uwu-fication of Good Omens

I’m not saying this to piss on anyone’s parade, everyone can like whatever they want and I realize that people who are perhaps… not experienced in traumatic adult relationships and/or aren’t bitter remnants of whatever ray of light they were supposed to be - I realize their fiction will probably be (for lack of better words)… light and easy.

I also realize that due to the collective heartbreak we’ve experienced after the end of season 2, a little fluff is perhaps needed. Again, not defecating on any crowds - but, like, we did watch the same show, right?

There are some REALLY good meta out there, as well as some fics and some art that really captures the essence of both Crowley and Aziraphale, and the context they struggle within.

…And then there are fics and art/comics where particularly Crowley is reduced to this very tsundere, cranky-despite-secretly-affectionate anime character who blushes and gets ✨ve-y angy✨ whenever he gets a kiss on his cheek or something and I’m like… okay? But. That’s not Crowley, is it? (Yes, you can make him into a hemipened waifu pillow for all I care, go do what makes you happy) - it’s just… You know?

Crowley and Aziraphale are (despite their celestial origins) - at their core - two middle aged, closeted, homosexual men who used to work for two equally oppressive, evil and incompetent fascist governments. That’s why they meet on the benches in the park, like all the other agents sent from other oppressive nations and agencies. The book was written during the last years of the cold war, and during the height of the AIDS crisis. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the first meds for HIV came in 1992 - being gay and being seen with the enemy could bring about equally terrifying death sentences. Yet, they do their best to thwart their Cold War, and then, the nuclear apocalypse.

After barely succeeding, they become as close as they dare to be, and they both know they love each other. Of course they do. That’s why Crowley wants them to stop pretending they don’t. He already assumes Aziraphale knows, because HE DOES KNOW.

Crowley isn’t (canonically) an uwu angy tsundere snek. He is a miserable ex-agent screaming at his closeted, gay lover for refusing to run away with him after 6000 years of war. Crowley is the opposite of tsundere, he is an open, aching wound.

Aziraphale isn’t a kawaii angel cup of hot chocolate, he is a desperate and scared idealist who is threatened into compliance by Great Leader, and who secretly wants nothing more than to let go of all propriety and just allow himself to be happy and freely experience life and love with the man he’s wanted all along, far from all oppression both from society and Heaven.

You guys, this is a story about fighting oppression for love. I just wanted to make sure we’re all on the same side.

And perhaps I’m just old, perhaps my experiences with multiple failed relationships, friendships and my own fallen idealism tints my glasses… But I feel a certain way about all the uwu. I’m sorry. Do uwu if you want. I’m gonna focus on the OPPRESSION, because - apparently - that’s the wall my socks stick to.

And yeah, I know this is very old man yells at cloud. Younger people (or people who just aren’t exactly like me) seeing this show or reading the book deserve the right to play around with it, just like I do. I know, I know, I know. I just needed to say this. Slay me if you must.

End of rant. Thank you for coming to my depression.

EDIT: Yes, I made the Avril Lavigne thing further down. Yes, I am a hypocrite. I’ve made my peace with this.

#aziraphale x crowley #crowley #crowley edits #crowley x aziraphale #good omens 2 #ineffable divorce #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses #innefable husbands #good omens fandom

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wonillaa · 11 months

Text

driver vs passenger princess with enhypen

note this is very much inspired by woniebabe on tiktok bc i have been thinking abt this for so long and saw their post and it was like fate

heeseung is already jumping in the passenger seat before you can even get to the car … drink in one hand and his phone in the other on aux. “by the way you were supposed to turn there”

* gasps and grabs your thigh when a song he likes comes on (he chose it)

* keeps a box in the back with snacks he likes and feeds you while you drive

* pays you back by agreeing to get your gas when you drive 🤗

* knows the directions to every place ever

jay never lets you drive, claims its his duties as your boyfriend. lets you play whatever music you want but complains immediately whenever it gets too cold or too hot

* uses his horn more than he should, road rage personified i fear

* keeps tampons/pads and pain killers in the back if you have a period </3

* tries to show off by steering with his knee and accidentally swerves into the other lane

* every drive is karaoke, windows down both of you screaming the lyrics

jake starts off driving you around and asks more and more to be the passenger, “you’re just so good at it you know” and you both know he’s lying and hates driving

* points out every dog he sees

* buys you cute decorations for your car and air fresheners

* hand on your thigh at all times, plays the music so loud it’s embarrassing

* takes pictures and videos of you especially if you’re wearing sunglasses, he thinks you’re so cute 😓

sunghoon looooves driving you around meanwhile he is a danger behind the wheel, but he refuses to let you drive and argues that he’s never gotten in an accident so it’s fine

* likes to honk at people right when the light turns green, thinks he’s so funny

* speeds around corners and runs over curbs

* loves surprising you by pulling into your favorite coffee place and gets you treats

* shushes you if you talk over his favorite part in a song

you and sunoo have made an agreement that he drives if its dark but all other weather conditions are on you, he thinks night driving is relaxing he loves it

* prefers being a passenger so he can stare out the window and point things out to you

* you have a 24hour playlist you made together you shuffle every time

* when he drives he’ll hit potholes or slam on his breaks accidentally and just glance at you trying to not laugh and how your head just slammed against your window

* sunoo just reminds me of roadtrips so much and you two have each others gas station orders memorized

jungwon prefers driving but will let you decide, loves saying weeeeee on curves and gives people a thumbs down when they pass him

* big fan of cruise control and rants on how useful it is

* always gets you gas and washes your car for you

* randomly shows up by your house and texts you to come out because he’s bored

* very safe very good driver 🙏 you are in good hands

niki is nothing if not a passenger princess, cannot sit still either he goes from laying down with the ac blasting to dancing with the windows down

* do not even ask him to give you directions because he’ll read the map completely wrong and just laugh as you make the wrong turn and say “oopsie”

* asks to get snacks and says he’ll pay for it next time bc he definitely purposely forgot his wallet

* reaches over and honks at cars for you if they almost hit you “don’t get embarrassed he almost killed us!!”

* you two make so many car vlogs on post them on tiktok

* he is so spoiled and he deserves all of it 😔

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house-of-lovin · 11 months

Text

legally binded - 7

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 7: The Afterparty

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: so... lovely weather we're having. 🙂

Word Count: 4k+

“Where’s Y/N?” Enrique asked as the door of the van shuts closed, for a moment, the incessant sounds of camera shutters and the crowd shouting her name become muffled.

And in that same moment, Jenna feels like she can finally breathe properly through her own lungs.

“Upstairs,” Jenna mumbled, leaning her expertly pinned hair against the headrest, and closing her eyes.

“I take it things didn’t go well?” He fiddled with his cap, frowning as he watched the young actress’ exhausted features.

Jenna hummed in confirmation but said nothing else, looking out the tinted window as the van started driving slowly.

Staring up at the hotel, she scanned the various, nearly identical windows for your hotel room. Jenna didn’t even know if your room was facing this direction but she looked anyway, a wishful part of herself hoped to catch a glance of you.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. You two will be okay.”

Jenna snorted, shooting her stylist an incredulous look. “I thought you were mad at her?”

“I’m mad at her for being stupid and for hurting you… even if she is a cutie.” He rolled his eyes, getting comfortable in his seat.

The actress laughed. “Don’t let her hear you say that, you know she has a massive ego.”

Enrique joined in on the laughter before his tone dropped, “You know Sarah and Liv are going to find out that the two of you didn't go to the same party…”

Right now, Jenna could care less about whatever kind of consequence she may get. The embers from her argument with you are still burning bright.

“That’s an issue for later.”

***

Jenna tried to make the best of a bad situation.

She really did.

Even though this wasn’t how she expected to spend the rest of her night — she somehow found a way to let loose. Maybe after she found a few familiar faces that pulled her in to dance, tipped back a few drinks and sang along as Janelle Monae performed for her after-party.

But even still, under the guise of alcohol and a good time. There was an unpleasant churn in her stomach whenever she allowed her mind to drift off to you.

“I’m gonna go to the washroom!” Jenna yelled through the music. Enrique nodded, continuing to cheer Janelle Monae on stage.

Laughing, she walked away while shaking her head; amused at her friend. Glad that he’s having a good time. One of them deserves to be having fun, at least.

As Jenna pushed through the heavy-panelled door of the powder room, she sat on the couch and placed her purse down. Grateful to be stretching her aching legs.

She takes a second to breathe and in that moment, allowed herself to think about you; wondering which party you went to and who you were surrounded by.

And for a split second, that unpleasant churn in her stomach reemerged as her mind drifted to all the worst possible outcomes of what you could be doing tonight.

Are you safe?

Is someone looking out for you?

Jenna’s decided not to ask Link about you this time, deciding that you two do, in fact, need space for the time being.

She knows she should apologize for the way she acted all day, even all week. Jenna knows she was just projecting her unresolved feelings about you from Coachella and instead of just telling you that she’s been worried and just wants you to talk to her, to let her in.

She decided to be petty and give into the heat of the moment, instead..

Jenna hopes the two of you can talk about it later tonight. But then she remembers the fact that you’re probably drinking, partying and doing god knows what else so that conversation and apology would probably have to wait until you’ve sobered up.

Standing, Jenna's decided she's had enough of wallowing in her own misery and walked over to the sink to wash her hands.

“Oh, hi!” A sweet-sounding higher pitched voice greeted her from behind after the sound of a door opening and heels clinking.

Immediately, she linked gazes with a certain Hailee Steinfeld through the mirror.

Jenna tried hard to school the surprise on her face.

“Hello…” Jenna smiled politely and glanced away, continuing to wash her hands.

“I’m Hailee…” The other woman greeted, sliding into the sink beside her, a pearly white smile on her full-pink lips.

“I’m Jenna, I would shake your hand but…” She gestured down to the running sink.

Hailee shook her head and laughed. “It’s okay, I’m glad to finally meet you! Can I just say how gorgeous you look! I thought your carpet look was amazing but this — you look stunning!”

“Oh! Uh— Thanks?” This time her surprise is hard to subdue. Feeling flushed under the weight of the other woman’s compliments.

She's never been great at accepting them.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to make you embarrassed,” Hailee smiled sheepishly. Her thick brows furrowing in her own embarrassment.

The heat begins to crawl up her neck. “It’s okay! I— I appreciate it. You look gorgeous as well.”

Taking the time to scan her, the younger actress has to crane her neck up to see Hailee’s face — it’s no wonder you ended up dating her. The woman is gorgeous.

She tries to stave the green-eyed monster clawing at her chest at the thought of you two together because the woman standing across from her has been surprisingly pleasant.

“Please!” Hailee waves off, smiling softly, turning to wash her own hands.

Jenna allows the silence to take over the room, unsure of what to say next. After washing her hands, she turned off the sink and walked over to grab paper towels.

Hailee cuts in before she can think about it too hard.

“Hey,” The singer called out as Jenna was about to pick up her purse, “thank you... for looking out for her.”

“What?” Jenna turned, raising her brows in question.

Hailee sighed, leaning against the counter to face Jenna.

“I know Y/N’s not the… easiest. She tends to push people away. I think it’s just the way she’s always been. I’m not really sure. With the whole Vegas situation and these rumours going around about a possible arrest — which, you know, is bullshit, Y/N doesn’t do drugs — her first instinct would’ve been to run and push people away. But you’re still here… so something tells me you’re special.”

Jenna feels her heart drop at the other woman’s words.

“Y/N can be reckless and cold at times, but I think it’s just an act," She continued; smile contorting sadly, “so she doesn’t actually have to open up to people… I’ve—uh, tried, so I kinda know.”

Jenna was stunned, unsure of what to say to that. Hailee made it sound like you were the one that got away or something. She also caught the openness that accompanied her tone, like the other woman had accepted the circumstances of the situation.

Like she just... let it be.

There wasn’t a lot of things Jenna was certain about but she knew she didn't want to feel that way about you, to just accept your coldness and inability to let people in.

“Anyways, she said you’ve kept her standing on her feet these last few months.” Hailee smiled softly, sincerity burning bright in her eyes. “So thank you, 'cause she deserves someone patient like you.”

“Thank you…” Jenna finally managed to say despite the barbed wire feeling around her throat.

You really said that? Did you mean it?

If you did then she feels terrible.

“No, thank you, I was scared Link and Y/N were gonna grow old and still be living together. They’re weirdly co-dependent.” Hailee jokes, breaking the heaviness in the room.

Jenna couldn’t help the snort that leaves her mouth.

And just like that, it felt like two friends enjoying an inside joke.

Jenna's laughter trails off before it turns to a heavy sigh as she grabs her purse. “So I should probably apologize to her, huh?”

The corner of Hailee's mouth tugs a small smug smile. “Depends on what she did… maybe let her sweat it out for a bit more then apologize.”

Jenna chuckled before nodding. “Noted… thank you, Hailee.”

Hailee nods, smiling softly as Jenna turned to walk out of the bathroom.

A surprisingly pleasant feeling appeared in her chest the farther she walked away.

She felt a bit lighter after that conversation, which is a shock considering she just talked to your ex-girlfriend. For a moment, Jenna felt guilty for her earlier reservations about the other woman. Not wanting to admit that she had let her jealousy cloud her judgment of character.

Hailee had nothing but great things to say about her — and you for that matter. A testament to how, despite your hot and cold demeanour, there’s someone worth knowing underneath.

Ugh. She hated it when she was wrong.

But there was also that nagging echo in her head that had to admit that she was glad she was wrong about you.

I’m sorry for what I said. Can I come see you? Are you still at the other after-party?

Swallowing her pride, she hit send then walked back to the party to find Enrique, hoping she can distract herself as she waits for your reply.

20 minutes go by without a response and Jenna doesn’t know if she should start feeling annoyed or worried; the line between the two is thinning by the second, she concluded. She decided she leaned more on the latter and stepped away from the party once again. Roaming the halls before stepping out onto a secluded balcony; grateful for the warm night in the early May month.

Pulling out her phone from her clutch, she called Link immediately, knowing that if anyone knew your whereabouts it’d be him.

“Hello?” Link answered breathlessly and in the background, the actress can hear sounds of traffic and people talking over one another.

“Link? Can you hear me?” Jenna spoke into the lonely night air.

“Yeah— yeah, sorry.” It sounded like Link walked away from the noise because when he spoke again, it sounded much clearer. But she immediately noted the urgency in his voice. “Hey.”

“Hey, I texted Y/N 20 minutes ago but she didn’t respond, is everything okay?” Jenna got to the point, chewing her lip.

“Shit—“ Link cursed. “Uh, about that.”

“Link, what does that mean?” Jenna felt every muscle in her body tense at his words, like before a big drop on a rollercoaster.

“We can’t find her.” Link confessed.

Jenna’s stomach dropped. Yeah, except that rollercoaster has just derailed.

“What do you mean you can’t find her?”

“We lost her. She said she was going to the bathroom but she never came back.” He recounted nervously.

“What—“ Jenna was dumbfounded, mind on overdrive as a sudden wave of coldness washed over her body as she processes what she’s just been told.

You're missing.

No one knows where you are.

“Are you looking for her now?” Jenna manages to ask, gripping the balcony railing for support. She thinks she feels a little light-headed but she pushes that thought away because you are more important, right now.

“Yes, of course. We checked everywhere. But uh—it’s been almost two hours since anyone’s seen her…” Link hesitated before confessing.

The last thing they need is for Jenna to start freaking out too.

Jenna’s stomach dropped again. This time she feels like she’s been launched off the rollercoaster entirely and is free-falling mid-air.

“Hey, hey, it’ll be okay. She does this, it’s kinda her thing. We’ll find her soon. Don’t worry.” Link reassured after Jenna doesn’t respond.

“When was the last time that she did this, Link?” Jenna asked shakily.

A beat passed before the man answered. “Vegas…”

“Shit…” They said in unison.

“What—what do we do?” Jenna asked.

“Just keep texting and calling her. I’m out looking for her right now, I have her entire security team with me.” He reassured her once again but she can still hear the trepidation in his tone.

“Okay…” Jenna trails off, not really sure if she’s actually listening at this point.

“Jenna— we’ll find her, don’t worry.” Link said with certainty but it didn’t ease the anxiety in her chest.

“I know…” Jenna mumbled, grasping her phone with a mighty grip and forced herself to take a calming breath. “Okay, okay. I’ll start calling her. Maybe I should go back to her room, in case she comes back?”

“Yeah, that’s a great idea, keep me updated Jen.”

“I will.”

The line goes dead as Link hangs up.

“Shit.” Even with Jenna’s trembling fingers, she contacted your number with haste.

But the call never even rang.

***

It’s past 2 AM and no one has still heard from you.

She had left you a total of 26 missed calls and almost 50 text messages. That’s not even counting the ones she’s sent you through Enrique’s phone.

At this point, Jenna was ready to go to the police but Link advised her that they wouldn’t be able to do anything because it hasn’t been 24 hours yet. Your closest confidant also warned her of adding fuel to the fire with the press if headlines that you're missing are released.

The actress feels an excruciatingly sharp pain forming in between her brows; the early stages of a migraine, the longer she paced around your room.

“Where is she, Link?” She chewed on the bottom lip, anxiously. “What if something bad happened? She doesn’t have security with her...”

“Her whole team has been driving around the city looking for her but we already checked the other after-parties and she wasn’t there. I hate to say it, Jenna, but if Y/N doesn’t want to be found, you won’t.” Link sat down on the couch in the living room.

The wrinkled exhaustion and worry were clear as day on his face. Jenna sighed, sitting down beside him. “I know you tried your best. Thank you for looking…”

“Yeah… of course. How are you though?” He turned, scanning her equally exhausted features.

“I feel terrible if I had just tabled it like she said–”

“Hey–” Link cuts in, shaking his head. “Don’t. Y/N’s gonna do whatever she wants, you can’t put this one on you.”

Jenna nods unconvincingly, slumping against her seat. “What about you? How are you?”

He stared off, deep in thought. “She’s like my sister, you know. We didn’t have it easy growing up. I know she’s— stand-offish and hard to get along with at times…”

Jenna turned to face him at his sudden confession, deciding to stay silent.

“You can’t even imagine how many times I’ve tried to quit being her assistant.” Link chuckled, looking up at the ceiling. “But I could never really do it. ‘Cause even though she has these massive walls around herself and that annoying-ass nonchalant attitude. I know sometimes this job is a lot… even for her.”

Jenna huffed, slouching back into the soft couch, trying to be understanding. “I know… trust me I know the job, we all do–”

Link shakes his head. “You don’t. Not her story at least…”

Snapping her head to the side, she watches the assistant’s side profile, noting the deep wrinkle on his forehead. “What does that mean?”

She couldn’t help but ask.

He sighed, “It’s not my place to say but Y/N's been through some stuff. Stuff that you wouldn't wish on anyone.”

“What?”

He sighed again, debating if he should open the can of worms. “At the time, I was living with my grandmother. She’s the only family I have left, it’s probably why I can’t let go of Y/N too. The money I make from working with her, I send to take care of my nan… But even with all that, Y/N was dealing with her mom.”

“She told me she was controlling or something — wanted more money?” Jenna scrunched her nose in disgust at how someone can treat their own flesh and blood like that.

“She wasn’t just controlling, Jenna… she tried to sue Y/N over it. She tried to take away her right to make decisions over her own career and when that didn’t work she tried to get her to quit the industry."

Jenna’s stomach dropped. “What?”

Linked nodded, watching Jenna’s stunned reaction. “Yeah… Jake and Liv fought against it. It never turned into a legal case, thank god. The judge dismissed her claims but it really fucked with her head you know. That her own mother could do that to her."

Jenna stared off into nothing as she processed his words.

No wonder you’re so closed off and scared to let people in. She felt sick to her stomach thinking about what you’ve gone through and how, even despite all of that, you still managed to stay standing on your own two feet and carry on as if nothing happened.

She wonders how long it’s been since you’ve really let anyone in.

“I knew she’d been dealing with things… these last few months. She had a packed year last year and her schedule was only getting busier. She never outwardly said it was becoming too much but I could see it. It started small; missing texts, calls, alarms… then she wouldn’t come home cause she was partying all night… it got too much. I think that singer and his friends were taking advantage of her fame but she always brushed me off whenever I said something. We even got into a big fight before Vegas so I stayed with a friend for a couple of days to cool off.”

“Link…” Jenna trailed off, she heard the guilty tone accompanied by his words. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“No… I know. Y/N’s going to do what she wants, I’ve learned to accept it. It still doesn’t make me feel any better that she’s in this situation and that I could’ve done something to prevent it.”

Link cleared his throat, sitting up a bit. “Just saying… from Y/N’s person to the other – I get what you’re feeling. She’s definitely not the easiest but I don’t know… when she shows she cares, you know she means it.”

“You think I’m Y/N’s person?” Jenna asked shocked. “We barely know each other.”

Link rolled his eyes, sending her a flat look. “Yeah ‘cause you two communicate through silent looks and then don’t talk about your feelings. If you guys fix your shit then maybe you can be her person too.”

Jenna opened her mouth for a rebuttal but the sound of something smacking against the wall interrupted her.

Immediately, the assistant and actress spring up, walking spritely to the foyer. When they round the corner, Jenna is torn between feeling relieved or furious.

They spot you, slumped against the wall nearly slipping on your own two feet, piss-fucking-drunk as you dropped the keycard to the floor.

“Are you fucking serious right now?” Link scoffed but briskly walked over to help you up, throwing your arm over his shoulder. "What the hell happened to you?"

“Sorry for being a disappointment, Dad.” You mumbled as Link dragged you down the hallway. Eyes barely opened and even then, Jenna can see the alcohol-muddled haze through your slow blinks.

“What the fuck, Y/N?” Jenna echoed as she watched how you had to be carried, too drunk to do it yourself.

It scared her, this was not a version of you that she liked.

She doesn’t want to listen to that small voice in her head again, the one that’s saying you’re bad news. You’re a party animal, this is what you do. You’re reckless. But the other part of her wants to give you a chance to explain yourself, especially after what Link just told her – it’s hard to keep that sentiment when you act like this though.

“Oh hey, Jenna.” You waved as if nothing is wrong, toothy smile on your lips. “I tried looking for you at the party… then I realized we fought and that’s why you weren’t with me. Are you still mad at me?”

Jenna didn’t know what to say so she kept quiet and followed Link as he lead you to the bedroom, nearly throwing you onto the mattress.

“Fuck, Y/N. You can’t keep doing this.” Link sighed out, taking a few steps back from the bed to scan you.

“Who’s gonna stop me?” You snorted, sitting up to tug your shoes off, chucking them without care.

“Dude, for real? We spent nearly four hours looking for your ass. Do you realize what kind of trouble you could’ve gotten into if–”

“–yeah, yeah,” You wave off and Jenna can see Link’s eye twitching and jaw clenching in anger. He knew better than to fight with a drunk person. Especially if that person is you.

He lets out a deep breath, then turned to younger actress, “I can’t be around her right now. I’m sorry.”

Then he walked away, slamming the door loudly behind him making Jenna flinch. A few seconds of silence pass without a single movement.

“What are you still doing here?” You asked in a snipped tone, breaking the quietude. Jenna doesn’t know if she should feel offended.

Crossing her arms, she scans your dishevelled attire. Your tie is loose, buttons are undone, and dress shirt is half-tucked – in short, you looked like a hot mess. “I’ve been calling you all night, where have you been?”

“Phone died.” You yanked your blazer off, throwing it on the floor, “and out… drinking.”

“With who? By yourself or with someone?” Jenna asked, walking closer, and helping you take off your tie.

“Doesn’t matter..” You grumbled as she helped you, looking at a spot on the wall and Jenna clenched her jaw cause you were closing up again.

“Well, it matters to me,” She yanked the tie off your neck.

“Why?” You looked up at her.

“What?”

“Why do you care so much? I thought this was all just for the press?” You pushed off the bed, wobbling on your feet. Jenna took a few steps back but kept close, in case you needed help but you shrugged her attempts away.

She tried not to take it personally.

Jenna called after you but you ignored her and just stumbled to the bathroom. She trails behind, still keeping a close eye.

“No, seriously. You kiss me and let me stay with your family and then you shut me down? What kind of fucked up shit is that?” You spoke up, venom laced in your words.

Jenna knows it’s the alcohol talking. But drunk words, sober thoughts?

“Well guess what? Fuck that. I may be closed off but at least I don’t lead people on.” You seethe, stopping in your tracks to spin around and face her.

The anger in your eyes is not an emotion she had seen before. This was different than your other petty disputes and arguments. You meant it.

Jenna blinked, shaking her head furiously, “What? No! That’s not what I’m doing.”

“I don’t care! I’m over it. If you wanna believe the press over me like everyone else, go ahead. I’m fucking used to it.” You grumbled, turning away to keep walking but this time Jenna grabbed your elbow, stopping you.

“Can you just stop for a second and let me explain!” But you yanked back like you’ve been burned and Jenna thinks she can physically feel her heart splitting down the middle.

“No, fuck that!” You yelled before taking a deep breath, using Jenna's stunned silence as a chance to keep talking. You looked deeply into her eyes and said the next words with pure conviction. ”I’m sick of trusting people and letting them in just to be fucking burned over and over again — After the Met Gala, I’ll go to Jake and Liv and tell them this is over. Next week, it’ll be three months anyway. Then, we’ll never have to see each other again.”

There was no slurring in your voice or wobble in your stance as you said those words.

Jenna blinked back the tears forming in her eyes, clenching her jaw. Not recognizing this version of you standing across from her.

This isn’t the same person that treated her family kindly and won over their hearts.

This isn’t the same person that won over her heart.

So, she listened.

“Okay….” Jenna nodded weakly, then turned walking out of your room not being able to look into your eyes.

She missed the instant regret in them as you tracked her disappearing figure.

***

i told y’all this slow burn would be slowwwww.

***

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#legally binded #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #wednesday netflix

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