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Deep Blue

I was thinking how much of the boys (Amazon series) doesn't have a ton of Supes with body change with their powers. So I thought of something that would dive into the idea.

Homelander x Supe Reader(F)

Warning: Homelander is a warning himself, but mature content. Cursing, abuse, and more.

Author Note: I don't remember when specific canon stuff happens. So there might be a little bit of things out of order.

eternallyordinary

“He Belongs to You” - Part 26

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series masterlist<3

Summary: You face the unbearable truth—you now fear the man who would’ve destroyed the world to save you.

Warnings: sexual assault, violence, death, kidnapping, power imbalance, possessiveness, manipulation, emotional tension, stalking, implied violence, murder planning, toxic relationship dynamics, yandere

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Homelander looks at you like a wounded animal—confused, devastated, afraid to move too fast in case you bolt. You’re trembling. Blood-soaked. Hollow-eyed.

This is all Butcher’s fault.

Fucking Butcher.

The old Homelander would’ve torn him limb from limb without a second thought—smiled doing it. And yet… he let him walk away.

Let him live after he shattered the fragile thing between you. Your trust. Let him live even after he looked Homelander in the eye and pulled his darkness into the light—darkness that cracked you in half.

But even now, even through the rage, Homelander knows…

Butcher didn’t ruin this alone.

Some of the blood is on his hands, too.

He was supposed to be your savior. The one who ripped heaven and hell apart just to bring you home. And he did—he did. He imagined this moment a thousand times: the way you’d look at him, broken but grateful, clinging to him like a lifeline. The way he’d wipe away the blood, the fear, the pain, and replace it all with safety.

He killed for you. Tore men apart. Crossed lines even he didn’t know existed. This was supposed to be the part where you collapsed into his arms. Where you let him be the one thing in this world that never failed you.

Instead—he sees it in your eyes.

You’re afraid.

Terror drags behind every step, but you keep going. Somehow, you’re still moving. You don’t know where—you just need to be anywhere but here. Away from them. From the random British man who shattered everything. From the man you loved, who did the unthinkable… and doesn’t even seem to understand what he did.

Or does he?

Does he know he raped Becca?

Or is he so lost in his own power—so used to fear and silence—that he can’t tell the difference between consent and submission?

You’re not sure which one is worse.

Your legs barely carry you past the edge of the porch before they give out beneath you, and you collapse onto the grass like your bones have turned to smoke.

Everything hurts. Your chest. Your skin. Your soul.

You can feel blood drying on your body. Bellamy’s. Yours. You don’t know where one ends and the other begins.

“Sweetheart—”

His voice.

You flinch.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, voice trembling like it might break under its own weight. “Let me explain. Butcher’s wrong—he’s a fucking—”

He cuts himself off. Even he knows this isn’t the time. His jaw flexes.

“He’s wrong. It’s not true.”

Silence floods the space between you—thick, suffocating, alive with everything unsaid. You don’t look at him. Not at first.

But eventually, you can’t help it.

You lift your gaze—and it nearly rips you apart.

You want to scream. You want to hit him. Break something. Break him.

You feel betrayed. Deeply. Utterly.

He lied to you.

Held back the ugliest parts of his truth while you handed him yours, bare and trembling. You told him things you hadn’t said out loud in years—peeled yourself open for him like it meant something.

And all the while, he was hiding this.

Keeping the truth sealed behind that perfect smile, letting you fall deeper into something built on dishonesty. What else has he lied about?

You always knew Homelander had a son—everyone did. He mentioned him once or twice, casually, like it was nothing. Just another piece of his carefully curated image.

But whenever you tried to ask more—to really understand—he shut down. Changed the subject. Said Ryan was doing well, that he was at some top-tier supe academy, destined to be “better than him one day.”

He sounded proud.

But now you know the truth. The real truth.

Ryan wasn’t the result of love or even some messy mistake. His mother didn’t choose Homelander. She didn’t want any of it. It wasn’t some complicated past—it was a crime.

And suddenly, the pride in his voice feels sickening.

Because what kind of man beams about a legacy built on fear?

And the fact you even believe Butcher—a man you’d never even met until one of the darkest moments of your life—that should tell you everything.

Because why would you trust a stranger over the man you love?

Unless deep down… you already knew.

Knew this is who he is.

Not just the savior. Not just the protector.

But the monster, too.

You feel stupid for believing him.

For loving him.

For thinking you were the exception.

But more than all of that—God, more than rage—you want to grab his face in your hands and tell him you still love him after all.

Tell him about the nights you disassociated to survive—chained and bleeding and lost—and dreamed of him. Of his arms around you. Of a life you thought was waiting on the other side of all this pain.

Hell, you even imagined a baby.

Not a Vought legacy. Not a science experiment.

Just a child.

Yours.

His.

A family built from something real.

You imagined being the kind of mother you never had. The kind of woman your past never allowed you to become.

You imagined being his wife.

And now… now you don’t know what any of it means.

You shake your head, numb, the words trapped somewhere between your lungs and your heart.

How will you ever look at him the same way again?

You force yourself to speak, your voice barely holding together—shaky, thin, on the edge of breaking.

“I—I don’t know who you are. I don’t think I ever did.”

It falls out before you can stop it, raw and trembling.

You swallow hard, eyes stinging.

“This… us… it felt like… everything. You felt like everything. Like the world finally tilted in my favor. Like someone actually saw me and didn’t want to break me.”

You look up at him, heart in your throat.

“But none of it was real, was it?”

The tears come faster now. You’re not even sure what you’re mourning—him, yourself, or the version of this that you let yourself believe in.

He’s on his knees in front of you, eyes wide and frantic, like if he can just say the right words, do the right thing, maybe you’ll stop looking at him like he’s already gone.

“Hey, hey…” His voice is a whisper. “You do know me. Every look, every word, every time I held you like you were the only thing left in the world—I meant it. It’s me.”

He reaches out, but hesitates just before touching your bloodied hands. His fingers tremble.

“You’re hurt. You’re freezing.” His eyes dart over your face, the bruises, the cuts, the dried blood at your temple. “Let me help you. Let me clean you up. Please.”

You say nothing. You don’t move.

And he can’t take it.

“I should’ve been faster,” he chokes. “You shouldn’t have had to do it yourself. You shouldn’t have had to bleed. That bastard should’ve died screaming in my hands.”

And that’s the moment.

The one that cracks it wide open.

You turn your head, eyes burning with betrayal.

“You killed them.”

He freezes. Confused.

“The guys who raped me,” you whisper. “You found them. You hunted them down. You said it was for me.”

“It was,” he snaps, too fast. Too defensive. “They deserved worse.”

You stare at him, trembling.

“You.”

A beat.

“Raped.”

Another beat.

“Her.”

He shakes his head, jaw tightening.

“You’re them,” you say.

And the second the words leave your mouth, something in him shifts.

His whole body locks up.

“What did you just say to me?” His voice drops low, dangerous—but shaking.

“You’re no different from them,” you say, softer now, but no less sharp. “They cornered me. You cornered her. They didn’t care if I said no. And neither did you.”

“I’m not them!” he explodes. “Don’t you dare compare me to those fucking animals!”

You flinch.

It’s small. Instinctive.

But he sees it.

His rage shudders, falters—like it realizes it’s exposed something he didn’t want to see.

You shrink back a little, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He sees that too.

And for a second, he’s not angry anymore.

He’s terrified.

“No, no, no, sweetheart—please, I didn’t mean—” He steps toward you, but you jerk back.

“Don’t.”

That one word cuts deeper than any of the others.

Because now it’s not just what you said.

It’s how you said it.

Like you don’t feel safe.

And that—more than any insult, any accusation—is what shatters him.

His hands tremble at his sides.

“I’m not them,” he says again, barely more than a whisper now. “I’m not. I didn’t know. I thought she… I thought she wanted it.”

“She didn’t,” you whisper. “And this—us—won’t be, if you can’t admit it.”

He stares at you, breathless, broken, afraid. Now he sees what you see. And he doesn’t know how to come back from it.

In his mind, what he did to Becca and what they did to you aren’t the same. Because he’s still holding onto the lie that he’s better than them.

He closes his eyes like the words physically hurt. “I’m not like them.”

“But you are,” you say. “Because they didn’t think they did anything wrong either.”

Homelander’s breathing sharpens—ragged, desperate, broken.

“I’d kill for you a thousand times over,” he says. “You know that. You felt it. What I did—for you—that was love. I love you so—“

“Stop it!” You choke on the words as they rip from your throat. “You don’t get to play the hero for killing my monsters, when you were someone else’s!”

The silence that follows is deafening. Homelander doesn’t move. Doesn’t blink. His eyes—so wide, so impossibly blue—just stare.

“I killed them for you,” he says quietly, like he still doesn’t understand how this moment turned into ruin. “Because they hurt you. Because they took something from you and I— I couldn’t live knowing they were still breathing.”

“And yet,” you spit, “you’ve lived just fine after what you did to her.”

His face twists, almost pleading. “That’s different.”

“It’s not.”

Your voice cracks as the tears spill over, hot and shaking down your cheeks.

“She didn’t scream. She didn’t fight. She stayed. Just like I did when I was scared. And you—you convinced yourself that meant it was okay.”

“I didn’t know,” he breathes. “I didn’t know she was afraid of me.”

“You never asked.”

Silence. Again. It swallows everything.

And then, quietly, almost in disbelief:

“You lied about Ryan.”

His shoulders stiffen.

“I told you everything,” you say, your voice shaking. “I gave you every piece of me—every scar, every truth I’ve kept buried for years. And you couldn’t even tell me the truth about Ryan. About who his mother was. Is he even in some superhero academy like you said? Or was that just another lie to make yourself look good? Do you even know where he is?”

He doesn’t answer.

Of course he doesn’t.

“You made me tell you what happened to me,” you go on, louder now, breath starting to break. “You pushed for it. Dug your claws in and made me relive it because your ego couldn’t stand not knowing every detail of how I was hurt—who hurt me—because it wasn’t you first.”

You’re crying now, chest heaving, the words ripping from your throat like they’ve been waiting to claw their way out.

“And the whole time… the whole fucking time, you were holding onto this. You never told me. Not once. Not when you kissed me. Not when you held me. Not even when I gave you all of myself.”

You laugh—sharp, broken, bitter.

“And here I was… locked in some grimy, freezing basement… imagining a future with you. Dreaming about a baby. A life. A home. Like some fucking idiot.”

Your knees give out and you nearly double over, a sob choking in your throat.

“God,” you gasp, “I’m so fucking stupid!”

He doesn’t speak at first.

Not while you’re sobbing. Not while you’re calling yourself stupid, breaking in front of him like glass dropped from too high.

He just stares—helpless, stricken.

And then, quietly, like he’s never said anything more dangerous in his life:

“I love you.”

Your breath hitches.

His voice is rough, almost childlike. Like he’s still learning what it even means.

“I don’t know how to do this right,” he says. “I don’t know how to be soft the way you deserve. I don’t know how to be good. But I know I love you.”

He kneels slowly in front of you, hands shaking, eyes red—not glowing. Human.

“When I’m near you, everything else stops. The noise, the chaos, the part of me that wants to tear the world apart—you quiet it. You make me feel like I could be more than what they made me.”

He leans in, like he’s scared you’ll flinch. Scared you’ll run.

“I never told you about Ryan because I didn’t want you to see me the way I see myself. I thought if you knew, you’d leave. And the truth is…”

He swallows.

“I wouldn’t survive it.”

He reaches out, but doesn’t touch—not unless you let him.

“I love you,” he says again, softer this time. “Not because you’re mine. Not because you make me feel strong. But because you’re the only person who’s ever looked at me like I’m not a monster. And now that you do… I don’t know how to breathe.”

A tear slides down his cheek, and he lets it fall. He lowers his head, as if the weight of it all is finally too much.

“I haven’t slept,” he whispers. “Not once. Not since the day you disappeared.”

His hands tremble at his sides, fists clenching against his thighs like he’s holding himself together by force.

“I searched everywhere. Every second of every day. I tore through cities. Raided Vought satellites. Threatened anyone who even looked like they were lying. I screamed at people until they pissed themselves because they said they didn’t know where you were.”

He lets out a broken laugh, but there’s nothing amused in it.

“They called me unstable. Said I was losing it. Maybe I was. Maybe I still am.”

He looks up at you then—eyes red, lips parted like the words might choke him.

“I’d see your face every time I closed my eyes. Hear your voice. Your laugh. That stupid little thing you do when you’re annoyed but trying not to smile.”

He shakes his head.

“And then I’d see someone else’s hands on you. I’d think about what they might be doing, what they might be saying, and I’d want to kill the whole fucking planet just to make it stop.”

His voice cracks.

“You don’t understand what it did to me. I’m not made to wait. To wonder. To not know. And for two weeks, you were gone, and I couldn’t find you, and it felt like I was dying every second you weren’t in my arms.”

He finally reaches out—just barely, fingertips brushing your knee.

“I didn’t care what I had to do to get you back. I didn’t care how much blood I had to spill. The only thing that mattered was you.”

He pauses, breathing hard, like he’s been holding this in for too long.

“I didn’t know I could feel like this. And I don’t care how broken I am. I’ll spend the rest of my life trying to be whatever you need—if you let me.”

He pauses, chest rising and falling with the weight of the moment.

“I love you. And I’m begging you not to walk away. Please. Let me take you back home.”

He reaches for you again. This time, you don’t pull away.

But your body gives out before he can touch you.

Your knees buckle.

The world spins.

He’s under you in a blink, catching you before you hit the floor. His arms wrap around you gently, carefully—like you’re made of glass now.

Maybe you are.

“I’ve got you,” he whispers, voice breaking. “I’ve got you, baby. I’ve got you.”

Your head falls against his chest.

You hear the frantic rhythm of his heart beneath his suit.

You feel his breath tremble against your skin.

You hate how safe it still feels.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you whisper.

“I’ll wait,” he says. “As long as it takes.”

And he holds you there—bloodied, broken, silent.

Because for once, there’s nothing left for him to say.

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tags: @raginginkedslut @emily048 @lilyalone e @harlowedoktravelsthemultiverse @helreyy @naty-1001 @slytherinroyalty16

little-wicked10

Hedonism

Summary: A vulnerable goddess prey to his godly appetites. She’s the prize of one man. He just has to catch her first.

Warnings: SMUT🔞, exhibitionism, voyeurism, cursing, dirty talk, daddy kink, subspace, teasing, mentions of edging, light-ish predator/prey kink, mention of safe wording, orgy stuff

Notes: This is a part 2 to buy me presents🎁! Ben is cashing in on his Christmas gift of fucking her at Herogasm.

All Italics - Past

plasticflowersinahistorycemetery

candy-floss dealer

Pairing: William Butcher x Bubblegum!Reader

Summary: Butcher's sick of seeing you around the safehouse. He's had words with Frenchie, he thinks he oughta have words with you.

Warnings: 18+!, language, Butcher being Butcher, implied/referenced drug taking, smut (p in v, rough sex), I think that's it?

Word Count: 6,527

He'd seen her before. More than once, actually. Slipping out the safehouse door like a cherry-scented ghost, glitter stuck to her cheekbone and a vape pen swinging from her fingers like a bloody talisman. Always after sunset. Always with Frenchie trailing behind, grinning like a lovesick dog and waving her off like they'd just shared tea and crumpets instead of whatever illicit shit they'd actually been up to.

And every single time, Butcher had words.

"Who the fuck is she?" "She's safe." "She's a liability." "She brings me things I need." "Yeah? 'N I'll bring you a fuckin' lobotomy if you keep lettin' fuckin' strays into a CIA-sanctioned op site."

But it never stuck. Frenchie had that look in his eye—the feral kind that said he'd cut a man's throat with a butter knife if it meant protecting the little bubblegum-coloured fox he'd adopted. And Kimiko didn't exactly help, nodding along in quiet, wordless approval, like the girl was family or some shit.

lizzyiii

Can I make a request? Homelander falling for a reader who is completely unaware of it. Not because he's good at hiding it but because, they genuinely can't fathom the thought of someone being that intense with their feelings about THEM of all people👀 but their the only person who's genuinely kind to him.

I'm sooooo sorry this took so long

Love and Devotion

pairing | homelander x supe!reader

word count | 5.8k words

summary | homelander becomes increasingly obsessed with the new kind and unsuspecting supe, and fixates on her as his perfect match, believing she belongs to him. his possessiveness reaches new heights after discovering intimate details about her powers, pushing him to claim her as his own, regardless of her obliviousness to his feelings.

tags | canon homelander??? obsession, possessiveness, season 4 timeline, major fluff, tell me if you think it ooc homelander, lactating kink

a/n | first homelander fic, this was sooooo fun to write and yes I did rewatch season 4 for this

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You were perfect from the moment he laid eyes on you.

sinsilk

ménage à trois ── . ✶ sam. w & ruby

summary: ruby learns her lesson about popping into motel rooms uninvited

pairings: sam winchester x gn afab!reader x ruby, samruby, bi!reader, bi!rubyノwc: 6.2K warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, no use of 'y/n', fem pronouns are used, SMUT, porn with a smidge of plot, set in late szn 4, threesome f/f/m, oral both fem & male! receiving, fingering, slight sub/dom dynamics (slightly mean dom!reader and sam, sub!bratty!ruby), some degradation, name calling (ruby -> whore, slut), reader is referred to as a 'pretty girl' once, face sitting, manhandling, orgasm denial, rough sex, unprotected p in v (please use protection), kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: here it is, the long awaited and final installment to motel chats! god i need them so bad and idk why i waited for so long to write this but i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did while writing this! heres the samruby smut freaks <33 sam. w masterlist | ruby masterlist | motel chats verse! masterlist

sinsilk

🏷️ taglist !

plasticflowersinahistorycemetery

GOD DAMN YES.

YES YES. i am full, i have eaten well this evening.

SOOO HOT SAMRUBY QUEEN EVERYBODY. let's all thank daisy <33

eternallyordinary

“He Belongs to You”

Homelander x Reader Masterlist <3

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Spotify playlist<3

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Part 14

Part 15

Part 16

Part 17

Part 18

Part 19

Part 20

Part 21

Part 22

Part 23

Part 24

to be continued ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊✩°｡⋆˚⁺ ˚ ༘ ⁺˚

walkingnearfoxes

The Space Between the Lines (Homelander x Reader) - Chapter 11

2.4k words. NSFW. Warnings for a lot of sex and emotional vulnerability - sometimes even at the same time. She/her Teacher Reader.

There are a dozen teachers who would kill for this job. You’re just not sure that you’re one of them.

bring-forth-his-sac

THE MAN FOR THE JOB - PART 1

Summary: when your father makes a bad choice, you become Negan’s latest wife

Pairing: Savior’s Era Negan x virgin!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Tags: daddy issues, virgin reader, sexual innuendos, swearing, betrayal, alcohol

A/N: yea this is basically my take on that old fanfic meme of "you" getting sold to [insert random boy band/ celebrity here] except it's with Negan. It was going to be one long fic but I decided to break it up! Part 2 should be up next week and it will be filled to the brim with smut lmao

Sniffling. Panting. Choked sobs. And footsteps, slowly pacing up and down in front of you.

You focus on the sounds, your head hanging low and eyes glued to the floor. The last thing you saw was the man’s bat cracking down and then you looked away.

Negan. A name you won’t be forgetting anytime soon. A man who had a grand announcement of who he was before ever making an appearance, as if he was headlining a festival.

xoxomilesteller

Soldier Boy finds your tumblr page cw: slapping (thigh, ass, face, vaginal), spitting, degradation, use of pet names (angel), bondage, dom sb, sb invading privacy, slight breeding kink, orgasm denial, i think that’s it? Oh drug usage as well (bad grammar too idk if thats a warning but yw if thats a big no for you)

word count: 6.3k

you’ve always been a quiet girl. you like to say that you’re just quiet, not shy. (or maybe you’re in denial). you really don’t have much to say about things and it gives people the wrong impression. they think that you find them annoying or that you’re just awkward, but you’re not. you’re just peaceful and quiet in a world full of the opposite

so when ben met you, he was grateful. you don’t bother him at all, you were his angel. he couldn’t think of anyone better as a babysitter. you were easy on the eyes too. he loved your short skirts, your flimsy shirts that would be so easy to rip off, how soft your skin looked. he would speak out loud and you would hum, acknowledging him. there were times where he would want to talk

“angel,” you don’t know when the nickname happened but it never bothered you, “why don’t you talk to me, always have that cute nose in your phone” his voice radiates through your body. ben’s flirty, you knew that, but it also doesn’t bother you. you just don’t entertain it, in fact, you like it way too much

growing up, your family loved watching vought movies. your particular favorites were the ones that soldier boy starred in, physically, not the animated ones. not that you didn’t like them, his voice was extremely attractive, but something about watching him get all dirty and bloody just did something to you. of course ben doesn’t know this, you never mentioned it because last thing you need is for him to know about your crush on him

“i just don’t have much to say” your voice is soft and you keep your attention on your phone, “i find the stories you tell me very interesting” you add on and turn off your phone, facing it screen down “i just don’t think too much of it, i literally can’t cause I’ve never been in your position. i can’t add on to what you say” you shrug

ben hums. he actually feels very pleased that you enjoy his stories. you honestly like his voice more, but he fell for the trap. he started talking about how some of his assistants at vought back then would pay and beg him to sleep with them.

you have immense self control. you don’t react to words to the human eye. ben has eyes like a hawk, again, you know this. so when he starts going into detail about how exactly he quite literally put them through the mattress, you stayed still. no reaction. except your core was throbbing, aching.

it had been a while since you touched yourself. you knew better. ben’s damn superpowers, he’d be able to hear everything. you’d usually try to when ben was on a mission with butcher, but it’s been a while (a week) since he’s been on one. you like to think that he can’t smell your arousal, he’s never mentioned it and ben is everything but quiet in that department.

before becoming ben’s babysitter in the safe house, there wouldn’t be a day that you didn’t touch yourself. under all that quiet, you were a whore. you’ve slept with people before, but they never gave you what you needed. sure they got you your orgasm, at least every now and then, but you needed something.. meaner. you were also shy there. you didn’t exactly know how to tell them to slap you on the face, spit on you, tie you up.

God your tumblr page would be the death of you. you’ve created the perfect page. tons of gifs and clips of how exactly you wanted to be treated. matter a fact, whenever you did watch porn, you look for a ben look alike or a man in soldier boy cosplay.

it’s gotten bad. midway through ben’s story, you found an excuse to go outside, saying that ben’s plug was here. he was, but you were counting down the minutes until he arrived.

when he texted that he was here, you replied and set your phone down on your side of the couch. you had your settings so that your screen wouldn’t turn off at all, since it had gotten annoying when you were reading fics about ben.

you walked off to greet the man and gather ben’s drugs and alcohol.

ben however, reached over to your phone. butcher had requested that you teach ben how to use one, to your knowledge it went through one ear and out the other. ben actually listened and pretended to not care. he struggled to get out of messages, but he managed to find your notifications, many were from tumblr.

“who the fuck is tumblr?” he whispers to himself, a bit jealous and clicks on the notification.

he was taken aback. you yourself are a fanfic writer for ben, obviously. he skimmed over some texts, words like choking, spitting, and slapping sticking out to him. he couldn’t tell what was going on, who wrote what, why it was on your phone, but he saw his name multiple times and now his sweatpants were becoming tight.

before you were able to come back in, he went into the bathroom with your phone. he didn’t know what he clicked, but now all he’s seeing as he continues scrolling is women getting degraded in ways feminism doesn’t exist. ballgags, rope, leather, whips, everything. he softly groans at the sight, but he’s confused why its on yourphone. he continues scrolling until he stops in his tracks.

a clip of a man in soldier boy cosplay pounding into a tied up girl who is crying.

he stays hypnotized by the small clip. questions like “why is this on my angel’sphone?”, “is she watching this?”, “is she into this? Me?”

ben doesn’t know what to think but his left hand is wrapped around your phone case and his right hand is palming himself through his sweats. he could always smell you, he thought it was your natural daily scent, since that’s always what he smelled around him. he just thought you were always that.. wet.

he smirks to himself, his confidence skyrocketing to a level he didn’t think was possible. he opens the bathroom door and pauses, his eyes widening when he sees you searching for your phone in the crevices of the sofa. your skirt was riding up, revealing the damp spot on your lacy panties. he puts your phone into his pocket and resumes palming himself at the sight of you bent over. he clears his throat and bites back a groan when he sees your pussy clench.

you straighten up but keep your back to him, “have you seen my phone? swear i left it there” you point to where your phone was and scratch your head

ben takes a step closer, “i’ll help you find it,” his voice is much raspier, “but i actually have a question about” he slips both hands into the pockets of his sweats and pauses, searching on how to word it

you turn to face him and sit down, pinching your brows, trying to help him, “is it about something with your phone? can you not turn it on?”

ben chuckles darkly, “you underestimate me angel” he pokes his cheek with his tongue

he looks so hot.

you’re throbbing even more now.

and ben? ben figured you out. he can smell you getting more aroused and it is taking everything in him to not stuff his cock into your mouth. he wants to milk this, watch you squirm, watch that wall you put up to come down.

ben sits on the couch next to you, spreading his legs wide. his new york giants jersey covering the massive bulge in his sweats and the outline of your phone.

“you said you signed me up for an app”

you nod, “yeah, instagram. It’s a social media app but it’s just so that when you actually do decide to pay attention to my lessons, you can use it, why’re you asking?”

he wants to wrap his hand around your throat, wants to tell you to shake off that innocent look and tone you have.

instead, he says “what’s the point of instagram?”

you sit back on the couch, crossing your legs, ben’s eyes follow and you notice it. but at the same time, he loves his grandmas, rightfully so, so you don’t think too much of it. you can’t really blame him when you yourself like a grandpa.

“so you can keep up with the people you follow. You can also explore on there, the more things you like, more things similar to that will show up until you’ve curated the perfect page for your interests” you answer, not knowing you’ve practically snitched on yourself

“are all social media apps like that?” he asks, his smirk twitching on his face

“um yeah basically. so are you gonna help me look for my phone now?”

“nah, not yet” he scrunches up his nose and takes the bag of white pills on the coffee table and opens it. before you can get up he reaches out for your wrist. the feel of his rough hand and grip sends electricity throughout your entire body. “didn’t say you leave,” his voice is commanding, “sit back down”

you listen without a second thought and your obedience makes his cock twitch. he leans over to grab a tray and spills all the pills onto the tray. he grabs his knife from the table and places it in your hands. you look at him confused and he scoots closer to you.

“crush ‘em up f’me” he whispers into your ear

you maintain your cool. how? you don’t know, but you oblige

you wrap your right hand around the handle of his knife and use the butt of it to crush up the pills. ben just wanted to see your hand wrapped around something and moving it while testing your ability to do as you’re told. he’s satisfied, but you’re not crushing them up the way he wants.

so obviously he wraps his hand over yours and uses his hand to lead. he applies more pressure and moves the knife much quicker.

you’re barely hanging on by a thread.

and what does Ben do?

“there ya go” he coos

Your breath hitches and he finally has you where he wants you

“line ‘em up for me angel” he nudges his head

you nod and use the blade of the knife to line the powder up. your hands aren’t shaking, but your jaw is clenched. Hard

ben chuckles at it and tilts his head, watching you in admiration of your ability to obey. he looks down at the tray and sees that you’re almost done

“put it on the knife and bring it to my nose”

ben’s voice sends shivers down your spine and heat that your panties can hardly contain.

he’s enjoying this. your little reactions make his painful bulge worth it

you carefully scoop a line onto the spine of the knife. you slowly bring it to his face and he holds your arm steady. you look into his eyes, they’re dark. he looks like a predator calculating his prey’s’ next move.

he snorts the line and throws his head back onto the headrest of the couch, pinching the bridge of his nose. he opens his eyes and looks at you.

“you should try some” he lifts his head up and takes the knife from your hands.

you stay quiet.

he nods and scoops some powder onto his thumb and smears it on your lower lip. you stay still and your heartbeat quickens. ben smirks when he hears it pick up. he scoops some more onto his thumb and brings it to your mouth again, your eyes following his thumb since it’s easier than meeting his predatory gaze.

“look at me” he commands and you listen. his once green eyes are black and your eyes? still have the innocence you’re playing coy with

“open” his thumb is in between your top and bottom lip. you open your mouth and he sticks his thumb into it. “don’t you dare look away angel” he threatens and you swirl your tongue around the pad of his thumb, collecting the fine powder.

he removes his thumb and quickly you sit back, trying to recollect yourself.

“i need my phone” you mutter and turn to look behind the couch. maybe you placed it on the headrest and it fell behind there.

ben’s eyes travel up and down your body while you’re on your knees, head against the wall trying to search for the phone that is in his pocket. he runs a hand over his bearded face.

“i’m sure you do” he says gruffly. you hear him shift and all of a sudden he’s right behind you, hands on either side of your head and pushing against the wall. he moves the couch back, so you can see better, but he stays there even after he’s done.

“being shy is one thing angel,” he leans his upper half in closer, lips grazing your ear, “but what you’re hiding in this damn phone is something else”

“w-what?” you don’t bother to turn your head to face him, afraid of what just might happen

he removes one hand from the wall and reaches down to his pocket. he grabs your phone and places his hand back on the wall, trapping you in with your phone in between the wall and his palm.

“see, just by the look at you, you’re a sweet girl. you’re quiet. shy. but back in my day, whores would not be afraid to ask me what they want,” his smirk grows when he hears your breathing pick up, “if it was just me and them, they would ask and beg. why is that now the world is so sex positive, that you’re so shy about it, hm?”

“i don’t know what-“

“shut the fuck up” the harshness of his voice makes you ache for him more, “i saw it. Saw it all. the ballgags, the crying, me. fuck even the spitting which is new for me. gotta lil’ crush on me baby? that hard for you to ask for what you want?” he removes his empty hand from the wall to turn your head to face him, “look at me” he demands “anyone else knows about this? How much of a slut you really are under all that innocence, hm?”

you take a deep breath “how are you supposed to tell someone to treat you like that?” you ask softly

ben throws your phone onto the couch and turns you around so you can face him, his gaze has softened. he puts a hand under your jaw, squeezing your cheeks slightly, “just like that angel. that’s how you ask. get on your knees in front of the couch”

You do as you’re told. ben sits back down onto the couch, grabbing a joint and a lighter. you’re in between his legs, looking up and him as he exhales the smoke. he looks down at you and chuckles, “you know what to do” he nudges your body with his leg

you sit up and reach your hands to the waistband of his sweatpants. he lifts up his hips to help you pull them down.

you always knew Ben had a huge dick. but thinking and actually seeing are two different things.

his cock springs up and hit his stomach. ben being the slut he is, he wears no underwear. your eyes are wide looking at the veiny and thick organ. you have no clue how you’re gonna fit that into your mouth.

“what’s fuckin’ takin you so damn long?” he groans and looks down again and laughs “not used to an actual man angel?” he puts out the joint and sets it on the tray. he wraps one of his big hands around the base and the other slithers its way to the back of your head, bringing you closer. he slaps it on your cheek twice and runs the angry red tip over your lips, “you better open this fuckin mouth”

you open your mouth and take his tip, not going much further than 1/4 of his entire length. you suck and swirl your tongue over it, earning a groan from him.

“i know you can do better than that angel”

you look up at him and he places his thumbs where your cheekbones and jaw connect. he starts rubbing circles, massaging the muscles which makes you both moan and open your mouth further to take more of him.

“there we fuckin’ go” he moans and throws his head back “that mouth, Jesus fuckin’ Christ you are a whore”

his words make you hum and he starts thrusting his hips into your struggling mouth

“you like that, huh?” he scoffs “too bad I’m gettin bored of this”

he is so mean, it makes your thighs clench. you remove your mouth from it, strings of saliva connecting you to his veiny dick

“i didn’t tell you to stop”

“i know” your voice is hoarse and you place your hands around his cock, the tips of your fingers don’t even touch. you start stroking him up and down, twisting your wrist. he hums and rolls his eyes

“you better put that mouth back on-“ he gets cut off by his own groan

you placed both of his balls into your mouth, sucking on them while stroking him and watching his reaction. he throws his head back, veins bulging from his neck. you run your thumb over the red tip, his hips jolt up

“that’s it angel. fuck” he smiles

you moan at his words. he snakes his hand to the back of your neck, keeping your mouth sealed around his balls. he then slides his hand up, pulling your hair to pull you back, earning a moan from you.

“tap my thigh 3 times and i’ll stop”

you nod and open your mouth, relaxing it as much as you can. he shoves his long and thick cock into your mouth and pushes your head down as far as it can go, which isn’t too much

“guess I gotta teach you how to suck a real cock now too. work this pretty mouth open. Look at me bitch.” he hisses and your tear filled eyes flicker up to him “fuckkkkk you really look like a whore now. watching that sweet face gettin stretched out by my cock. shit. can’t wait to see, feel, that pretty pussy flutter open”

you pathetically start grinding yourself onto the heel of your foot, ben obviously notices this and he gently slaps your face “if you fuckin cum before me, we’re really boutta have an issue” he warns and immediately you stop but your thighs keep rubbing together

“fuck me” he grits out “if I knew you were such a desperate whore I woulda done this a long time ago” he laughs darkly “gonna paint that face with my cum” his hips start moving frantically in your mouth before he suddenly removes himself and starts stroking at an insane pace while keeping your head steady with his other hand

with a loud grunt, warm fluid shoots out of him, landing all over your face. the amount he shot out was more than an average man. there is so much. most of it landed on your face, some on his jersey, some in your hair. he scoops some of it up and smears it on your lips

“there ya go angel, see? got lip gloss on again” he winks

but what caught him by surprise was when you licked the cum that landed on his jersey, lapping him up. his dick practically got hard again at the sight of you covered in his cum and cleaning him up, tasting the warmth and saltiness of him

“atta girl, clean me up. take off your panties while you’re at it too” he stuffs himself back into his sweats, ignoring how tight they’re about to feel again

you giggle and do so. they were stuck onto you because of how wet you are. he holds out his hand where you placed your white lacy panties in his palm

“well fuck i was gonna clean you up with them,” he runs his thumb over the soaked and only piece of cotton there was on them “but looks like they can’t soak up anymore huh. fuck it” he shrugs and picks you up effortlessly so you straddle his thigh. to your surprise, he starts licking your face, to clean you up. your eyes widen

he slaps your face, a bit harder this time, “i’m not a fuckin pussy who’s afraid to taste himself” he wipes his hand clean on your tank top and you whine which makes him laugh “what? you worried bout your little shirt”

“well yeah kinda i spent money on” he rips the tank top off “this..” you don’t finish your sentence in shock and ben smirks. “what the actual hell? that was brandy it was expensive” he uses one of the pieces of your torn up tank top to wipe his beard clean

“what I’m about to do to you is gonna make that shirt feel worthless” he whispers into your ear

he stands up, taking you with him. he brings you into his room and throws you on his bed. ben looks down at his sweatpants and groans when he sees a patch of wetness on it. he looks in his nightstand and takes out some black rope. he grumbles and mutters something to himself and continues searching until he pulls out some pink rope and sets it beside your head

he hovers over you, spreading your thighs, the cold air hitting your dripping core. he places kisses over your jawline to your ear, where he nibbles on it, “choose a safe word you have 5 seconds before I choose one for you”

“banana” you say quickly

“banana it is” he mumbles, “don’t give me that sir shit either, only name I wanna hear come outta that slutty mouth is ben, ya hear me?” you nod “good girl”

he places his mouth on yours, he’s kissing you roughly and demandingly, sucking the breath out of you. the air feels hot and heavy. one of his hands go under your squirming body to your back to unclasp your bra expertly. he removes his mouth to admire your chest “Goddamn these tits” he licks his lips and his hands squeeze them, a soft moan leaving your mouth. he shakes your tits and groans. he reaches for the rope beside your head and starts unraveling it. he takes both of your wrists in one hand and starts tying them to the headboard. he fastens the knot and runs his hands down your body, to the waistband of your skirt. he slides them under and removes it as well, feeling the goosebumps rise on your legs, leaving you bare before him. he takes your legs into his hands, and folds you in half. he ties your ankles to the headboard as well while leaving you all spread and exposed. the position is humiliating, but his eyes are eating you up.

ben sits back on his knees, rubbing his hands up and down the backs of your thighs, looking directly at your dripping, needy core. “well thats a damn sight if i’ve seen one” he chuckles to himself and lightly slaps your hamstrings “all these grandmas i’ve been fuckin not knowing i had a naturally wet pussy waiting for me 24/7. shit. bet it’s tight ass fuck too isn’t it, hm? well most women feel like virgins to me because.. well you know”

“please” you softly say, his voice is taunting and making you pathetic

“need me to touch you angel? need me to make you feel good?”

you nod eagerly, you’re so pathetic.

ben stands up and you strain against the rope. he returns back with his crushed up pills and your phone. he pours some of the white powder down the valley of your breasts down to your belly button “tell me angel,” he sets the tray down on the nightstand and hovers over you, “who got you into all this?” he begins snorting the powder off of you

you gulp, “so actually” you giggle nervously and ben flickers his eyes up at you, “it was you”

he finishes snorting the line and moves his head up to your ear “how?”

you stay quiet

he slaps your pussy, making you throw your head back at the burning and stinging sensation. it only adds to your arousal “you’re gonna have to talk if you want to cum today”

“well you just look so” your breath hitches when he starts kissing down your throat, leaving red and purple bruises “so dominating a-and” you moan when he sinks his teeth down on the mound of your breast “i grew up having a crush on you. found things that would add onto my imagination and fant-asies” he latches his mouth around your nipple, sucking and flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud while rolling the other one in his thumb and index finger. you moan and arch your back, he slaps one of your tits, urging you to keep talking, “you put the idea in my mind. whenever i look at you there’s nothing more that i want then to be used by you”

he removes his mouth from your nipple, his lips swollen and covered in saliva “where the hell have you been my entire life?” he wastes no time in leaving bruising and wet kisses down the soft skin of your stomach. each kiss and touch, has you more and more under his spell. his face is in front of your sopping wet pussy. he bites down on your inner thigh, making you gasp. he sticks out his tongue and licks up each lip, ignoring where you’re throbbing and aching the most.

you lift your hips up as much as the rope allows you to at the warm sensation of his tongue, “please ben” you whimper his name

he did not hesitate at your words. usually he’d wait, but with what you just told him? how could he keep his angel waiting for more?

his warm, experienced tongue licks a stripe up the center, flicking your clit a few times. you moan loudly and your nails dig into your palms.

“sensitive like a virgin” he mutters against you, the vibrations of his voice adding to the building pleasure. he returns back to your weeping cunt, his eyes never leaving your face, watching you scrunch up in pleasure while his name rolls off your tongue. “you taste so fuckin good” he starts rolling his hip into his mattress, getting off to your pleasure, same way you did earlier. he’s lapping at your entrance, drinking you up. his grip is firm on the backside of your thighs, keeping you from grinding yourself onto his face.

and his damn beard. it’s tickling and scratching you perfectly. you just want to pull on his hair, the pleasure being too much.

he shakes his head, trying to delve in deeper, the moan that left your mouth was a sound you never made before and you feel his lips curve into a cocky smile

ben returns back to your clit, your body straining against the rope again, not caring about the burning sensation it’s giving you. his right hand slides down to your entrance, probing it with his middle finger

“ben” you cry out his name when he sticks his ring and middle finger into your hole. he groans at the tightness. he thrusts them into you before scissoring his fingers

“gotta work this little pussy open like that mouth” he latches his lips again to suck on your clit. his fingers hit that gummy spot that makes you see stars

the rooms fills with your moans and squelching sounds of your walls sucking his fingers in as you clench around them

“b-ben” you moan out his name, the ropes digging into your soft skin

“nuh not yet, i ain’t done here”

he adds a third finger while flicking his tongue at an unbelievable speed

“fuck” you practically scream out at the stretch and he chuckles

you cannot hold it back anymore. your walls clench his fingers so tight and your legs shake as he gives you one of your most intense orgasms. he works you through it, not stopping until it’s over. you pant, chest rising up and down rapidly and he laps up every drop of you. he slides his hands up your body, striking you on your face, making you moan

“what the fuck did i tell you, hm?”

“t-that you”re not done”

“that I’m not fuckin done”

“i’m sorry-“

he slaps your sensitive pussy, making you squeeze your eyes shut, “no fuck that” his voice is stern. he rips off the rope, ignoring the bruising marks on your wrists and ankles and flips you over onto your stomach. he pushes your hips up so your ass is arched and in perfect view

“keep those hands near your head, if I even see you try to move them i’m tying you up again and leaving you there”

each of his hands massage and grip onto the globes of your ass, spreading to see his perfect wet pussy. he presses his bulge onto it, making you grind your hips on it before his hand slaps your left cheek “don’t fuckin move” he threatens and grips onto your hip, keeping you steady. he leans over you, pressing his torso onto your back and he thrusts his clothed bulge into you, making you moan softly at the feeling of something that can end this aching inside of you. his right hand wraps around your throat, tilting your head to meet his hungry eyes “you feel that?” he doesnt give you a second to respond before slapping your ass cheek again, “answer me whore” his voice rasps

“i feel it” you reply, though it was more breath than voice

“all i wanted to do was bury myself deep inside of you, but you had to be a fuckin slut and cum without my permission” he lands another slap on your ass, tears prickle in your eyes at the pain that quickly fades into pleasure.

you lost count at how many times he spanked you. tears ran down your cheeks, mascara and makeup definitely ruined now, but you were sure that tomorrow you would not be able to sit down and there would be bruises of his handprint, not that you’d mind. you just knew that when this night was over, you will sit in front of the mirror, naked, admiring the mark he left on you. physically and mentally.

you felt the weight of him disappearing and you hear rustling beside you. ben flips you over, so you’re on your back again. you feel the mattress dip at his weight. he takes one leg and places it on his shoulder, the other one he leaves it resting on his hip. his eyes travel from your core up to your fucked out face.

God you looked so pretty he thought

not that he needed to, but he spit onto your pussy, watching the saliva travel down. the warmth of it dripping down on you makes you squirm. he rubs his cock on your soaked folds, watching it glisten in your arousal

“please, I need it” you whine out

“be patient” he demands and slaps it on your slit, watching your body jolt at every slap. he takes his tip and lines himself up at your entrance, but he moves it up so it rubs your clit instead

“b-en” you moan out the last half of his name when he finally places the tip inside of you, stretching you wide

his teeth are clenched, hard, fighting to not just slam into you. he wanted to make you feel him stretch you wide, little by little. he wanted to ruin other men to you. he knows his size is already massive, but he wanted more than to just physically loosen you up for any other ordinary man, he wanted to leave a mark in that pretty head of yours, reminding you there is no one else like him. so that’s exactly what he did.

he retracted his tip and thrusted into you, feeding you another inch. a yelp leaves your lips and you grip onto the bedsheets. he takes his hands and wraps them around your wrists, placing them onto his chest. he didn’t want to say it but he wanted to feel your hands on his skin. he repeats his motion, taking himself out just barely and giving you more of him. you claw at his chest but of course, no marks were left. your walls are squeezing him so damn tight. almost like they’re fighting his intrusion

“not even halfway in and you already can’t take it” he tsks and shakes his head “too fuckin bad i ain’t askin no more angel”

he continues his demeaning motions until he’s buried all the way to the hilt. he stills himself. he can usually control himself but the way you’re looking at him with that expression, the sounds you’re making, the way you’re gripping him so tight he feels like he might pass out.. it only spurs him on. his left hand stays secured on your hip and his right hand travels up to your throat, applying pressure at your pulse points

“let’s see another man stretch you out this fuckin good”

you moan at his words, because it’s the truth. you feel like you’re being split open, like you’re losing your virginity again. you can feel every vein, every ridge. you’ve never felt fuller

“Goddamn i knew this pussy would feel good to work open, got me feeling like i might suffocate. Fuck angel” he throws his head back and slowly moves his hips “gonna make this tight lil thing useless to another man, loosen you up real good” he chuckles and uses his left hand to slap your hip. his hips start moving a bit faster, louder, pornographic sounds leave your mouth and wet sounds from your core fill the room. you drag your hands up to the bottom of his head, tugging on the short hair there, earning moans from him

“fuck yeah keep doing that” he leans over closer and places more pressure around your throat “open” he commands

you open your mouth and he spits into it, watching you swallow it. you were going to be the death of him.

his hips move at a more brutal pace, now that your walls have somewhat welcomed him in more. all you can think was ben, ben, ben. that’s all that really left your mouth if he got lucky he was able to make out what you were saying

“turned you into a cock drunk whore didn’t i? can’t even say my fuckin name right you dumb slut”

you hate being called dumb. you rake your nails from his hair to his neck. you don’t know where you got the confidence from, but you slap ben across the face

both of you are caught by surprised. ben stills his hips, glaring at you. he is pissed. you are shocked you even did that. he slaps your tits, earning a moan from your lips

“do.” thrust “that.” thrust “again.” thrust

you moaned every time, his tip slamming into that sweet spot. you slap him again and he slaps your tits. he’s never been slapped, at least not during sex. he liked it. it didn’t hurt him, it was more teasing to him, adding onto his pleasure.

he starts rutting his hips into you, the sounds of his balls slapping onto you creating another pornographic noise “you’re gonna milk this old man dry angel” he chuckles and flickers his eyes down to your tits, watching them bounce with every harsh thrust. he feels your velvet walls clench down on him, “gonna cum f’me angel? yeah?” his voice is so taunting, it only makes you want him more and you nod “you better say my name and say it right whore” he spits and you try to say yes but the pleasure is just too much. it’s like your senses are heightened. every touch, every word, the feel of his breath fanning over your hot skin, watching his face trying to stay hardened but his brows scrunch up, his sounds.

“if I don’t hear my name roll off those pretty little lips this is the first and last time i ever make you feel this good” he warns

“ben” you moan his name

“atta girl” he moves his left hand to rub your clit in tight circle “who’s stretching you out so fuckin good, hm?”

“ben” you shout his name

“don’t you fuckin forget that shit either” he slaps your thigh “cum for me angel, go”

at his command, you gush around him, shouting his name and digging your nails so deep into his skin, it actually left a mark. for a few seconds.

ben is now moving for his pleasure, slamming his hips brutally into your overstimulated pussy

“pussy’s gonna need an ice pack when I’m done” he grits through his teeth, his hips are moving frantically, searching for his release “gonna put a baby in you, you feel so damn good” he whispers in your ear

“do it” you encourage him

“wasn’t fuckin asking dumb bitch”

“you slap him again and that’s when he buries himself as far as he can go, grunting as you feel him shoot his massive load into you. he even goes a step further and give you 3 hard thrusts when his orgasm washes over, ensuring some of it stays deep inside of you. he slips out, watching everything spill out of you

“never-fucking-mind. that’s a damn sight for sore eyes”

AN: MY FIRST SMUT PIECE GUYS idk lmk how i did any constructive criticism is good and i hope you guys have a wonderful day banner by: @cafekitsune

little-wicked10

Is anyone else dizzy?🥵😫

plasticflowersinahistorycemetery

sweet thing

one-shot

Pairing: Sam x Ruby x Innocent!Fem!Reader

Summary: Sam and Ruby have played the long game. And you're innocence is about to be lost.

Warnings: 18+!, language, manipulation, demon blood era Sam, Ruby is a warning by herself, corruption, coercion, praise, smut (dirty talk, kissing, fingering, oral/cunnilingus, overstim, p in v, spitting, threesome f/f/m), I may have missed some.

Word Count: 6,245

A/N: OH BOY. Zoe, my sweetpea, I hope you liked this one. I know I REALLY liked it... I'm sorry it's so long, but also... not sorry at all, aha. Anyways... give me some feedback, y'all. Please. I love when I get comments on things that come out of my very pathological brain. This was born because I'm ovulating. Shush. <3 I might write more Ruby stuff in all honestly, because... well, Ruby. RUBY SUPREMACY. All the love.

You didn't mean to stay with them.

At first, it was just a night. One blood-soaked hunt, too many screams, and Sam stepping between you and something you weren't ready for. He didn't say much—just pressed a cloth to your arm, asked your name in that quiet, steady voice, and told you it was going to be okay.

Ruby smiled behind him like she already knew it wouldn't be.

They brought you back to their motel room, patched you up with gentle hands and dark eyes, and you didn't leave the next day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

Two months later, you still didn't know why.

You told yourself it was safety. That the way Sam looked at you—soft and too-long—was protection, not possession. That Ruby's fingers brushing your thigh were comfort, not calculation. You convinced yourself they needed you.

But deep down, you knew the truth.

walkingnearfoxes

The Space Between the Lines (Homelander x Reader) - Chapter 10

2.1k words. NSFW. Aye there be sex here. She/her Teacher Reader.

There are a dozen teachers who would kill for this job. You’re just not sure that you’re one of them.

godmadeaterribleerror

Chapter 3 - Wrathful

Main Masterlist - Mini-Series Masterlist

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, Sam Winchester/Reader (platonic), angst, very light fluff, mutual pining, smut (oral both receiving), time loop!

Summary/Warnings: You try a new method to escape. Usual Warnings.

Author's Note: A little emotional smut for your time?

Word Count: 6k

Read on A03!

Chapter 2 - Chapter 4

“Son of a-“

“Dean!” You don’t wait. You won’t wait. You’ve been here for too long, and you’re done waiting. “I need to talk to you.”

He blinks at you from the stove, the bacon and eggs scattered across the kitchen floor as he clutches the hand you already know he’s burnt. “Uh- Morning, sunshine. You’re up sooner than I thought you’d be-“

“Yeah, it usually takes another five minutes.” You pause to grab ice from the freeze as you stalk over to him, grabbing his hand and pressing it over the line of blistering skin. “Are you ready?”

“Ready?” He frowns as he says your name, looking between where you’re still holding his hand and your firm glare. “You feeling okay? You’re- you seem a bit-“

“I love you.”

gullemec

Golden Cage - Series Masterlist

read on ao3 main masterlist

Pairing: Billy Butcher x f!reader

Series Summary: As the daughter of a powerful pharmaceutical magnate, you've spent your life in the shadow of your family name. In the wake of your mother’s sudden and suspicious death, you’re left untethered, searching for something, anything, to make you feel alive again. But when a chance encounter thrusts you into the chaotic world of The Boys, a ruthless Supe-killing vigilante group, your carefully constructed reality begins to unravel. As the lines between hero and villain blur, you are forced to question everything you thought you knew about yourself, your family, and the world around you.

Series Warnings: canon divergent (the canon is a fun suggestion), emotionally constipated billy butcher, reader has very poor self-esteem, heavy discussions/depictions of grief, language, smut (18+ MDNI), slow burn enemies to friends to lovers, emotional/psychological abuse, daddy issues, canon-typical violence, murder, alcohol consumption, implied age gap, violence toward the reader (not butcher)

Status: Completed

please let me know if I've missed any tags! <3 take care to read the tags on each individual chapter <3

A/N: I'm so so so excited to share this with the world, I have been working on this fic for so long and it's really my baby <3 I also want to say that I really went loosey-goosey with the canon here. This is essentially a story within The Boys universe, using characters from The Boys, and referencing plot points from the show, but it doesn't necessarily take place within a specific timeframe in the show and some characters won't be mentioned. Just vibes basically. Thanks for reading <3

Chapters:

One: Down the Rabbit Hole

Two: Pandora's Box

Three: Lion's Den

Four: Whiskey on Ice

Chapter Interlude: Picture You

Five: Cross the Line

Six: Red Underlined

Seven: So it Goes

Eight: Deep Blue

Nine: Light Me Up

Epilogue: The Last Page

shamrockqueen

Dark room

Pairing : Soldier Boy Ben x Monsteress Supe Reader

Warnings : drugging, drug use, drug eating, semi public sex, cowgirl on the floor, tearing clothes, long tongue reader, Deep throat French kiss, unprotected sex, semi non-consensual sex, sex on the floor

Word count : 2211

AO3 Page Link

Herogasm oneshot I’d been sitting on for a while. Wanted to get it out there when I got it done.

Every inch of the house was bathed in the dim glow of candlelight. Light the bodies curled along the floor in a flickering orange glow as they contorted around each other. It seemed like the ultimate pleasure pit, until you’d stop and take a moment to really see if for what it was. This was when you’d see it for its imperfections.

It was in fact, a room full of lubed up kinky weirdos, doing god knows what to one another. It just really wasn’t your cup of tea. Although, what did you expect from a super orgy?

cheshire-cat-lenalee2

unclefather

can’t risk it

bentejam

THIS PIECE OF PICTURE WORKS.

fakesurgery

Gotta take all the chances…..

fit-beach-tea

Never risk it

bbylilithian

Too close to final’s week

maggierobots

I could use it.

mythical-illustrator

Why not, spread the luck

dduane

Could use some of that. Why not? :)

plasticflowersinahistorycemetery

exhibitionism

part IV

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Ben x Fem!Reader

Summary: You're settling into something you don’t fully understand, but it feels too good to question—too intoxicating to resist. Ben’s world is bleeding into yours, shaping it, owning it. He gives, and you take, but you’re starting to realise that nothing he gives is without cost. Doesn't matter how much that drink was anyway.

Warnings: 18+!, Ben once again being his own warning, age gap, language, misogyny, drug consumption, smut (kissing, biting, marking, slapping, dirty talk, clitoral stimulation, overstim, forced orgasms, fingering, handjob, cunnilingus/oral, p in v, cum on face, throttling, rough sex, semi-public sex, somnophilia, sexsomnia, dub-con), mind games, manipulation, degradation, power imbalance, I may have missed some. (There's a bunch in this one, agh!)

Word Count: 6,697

A/N: Besties, when I tell you this took everything from me... I mean it wholeheartedly. Burnout has officially hit, and my brain feels like goddamn mush right now. I'm not even sure I proofread this properly smh. I'm not sure I'll get time to fully write the next instalment tomorrow because I've got a super busy workday, tons of appointments, but I will probably get partway started on it. Lil appearance from more of The Boys in this one, only brief mentions, but I like integrating them into this AU. Like a lil easter egg, teheh. <3 And the foreshadowing from Butcher at the end was the part I got most excited about, honestly. Cryptic motherfucker, always. The fic ain't called "exhibitionism" for nothing. 👀 You know the drill: if all the warnings listed above aren't evident yet, they will be. And please let me know what y'alls thoughts are. I am so grateful to each and every one of you for reading the utter sewage my brain creates. Signing off, until the next one. All the love.

Without further ado: EXHIBITIONISM

Power is not taken. It is given.

A glance across the bar. A drink set down without a word. A hand at the small of your back, guiding you somewhere you don’t belong.

It starts small—a single indulgence, a breathless yes.

Then, suddenly, you are on display. Draped over his lap, diamonds at your throat, whiskey on your lips. A possession. A prize. A thing to be seen.

Because men like him do not love. They own.

Morning crept in slow and golden, stretching lazy fingers of light through the blinds, spilling across the tangled sheets and the expanse of your bare skin.

The air smelled like him—cologne and sweat and sin—clinging to your body, to the silk of his pillows, sinking deep into your bones. You stirred, muscles aching in ways that made your stomach clench with something warm and satisfied, stretching like a cat before finally rolling out of bed.

The penthouse was quiet, except for the distant hum of the city far below. Your steps were soft against the cool marble as you padded into the kitchen, rubbing the last remnants of sleep from your eyes. That’s when you saw it—

A small note on the counter, scrawled in what you assumed was Butcher’s blunt handwriting, sitting beside a Plan B.

Ben’s smirk was already curling at the corner of his mouth when you turned to find him leaning against the counter, watching you with that lazy, knowing amusement. He pushed off with an easy roll of his shoulders, stepping into your space, patting your ass before grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

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