Content: homelander x fem!reader, nsfw, chest play, comfort/care
Summary: He loves sucking on your breasts
Tw: sexual content, implied nursing (didnt write if theres milk, its up to your imagination), homelander ig lol
A/N: i cooked this up in a flash, idk if its any good but i hope you enjoy ♡
Your hand was slowly brushing up the nape of his neck, combing through those pristine golden strands before resuming their endlessly repeating journey once more. Hollander's head was tucked just under your chin as he let you hold him, warm, safe, loved.
His fingers had found purchase on the bare skin just under the hem of your shirt, lightly gripping skin just before he stirred a little. His lips brushed over your collarbone, your throat, your sternum before that bothersome fabric obstructed his pathway down. He nudged the soft curve of your bosom in a silent request that seemed to occur more often than not when he was this close to your chest.
You weren't quite sure when it had started to truly manifest, this habit of his, or maybe it was a ritual at this point. Whether it was solely a soothing practice or something sexual wasn't clear to you either, and the lines between nurturing and arousing seemed to blur so easily with him.
Nevertheless, you began to unbutton your shirt to reveal the soft hills resting in your bra before you resumed the gentle caress over his neck. Homelander was quick to burry his face in the comforting warmth between your breasts, breathing in your scent, this one right there specifically before his teeth grazed your skin.
Pointy canines nipped at your breast gently a few times before they found that little, delicate piece of fabric that held the formfitting cups and everything inside together and tore it into two with one distinct pull. His gaze was fixed on the way those womanly apples spilled over your ribcage with a peculiar kind of hunger even as you tugged on his hair enough to pull a displeased whine from his lips for destroying another piece of lingerie over his obsession.
Hed buy you a new one. Like last time. Like next time. Maybe you should invest in bras with front facing clasps to escape this vicious cycle...
Because nothing and nobody could stop the Homelander from this. A soft, low groan escaped him as the peaks of your breasts were already getting ready for him. He licked his lips before he dragged his tongue over the bouncy slope and swallowing your nipple whole in his mouth.
Another needy moan rumbled in his throat as he started sucking in long, deliberate drags like he was nursing from you while his free hand cupped your ribcage just below your tit. He shifted slightly, adjusting to this new position while his stiff length rubbed against your leg.
But he didn't move, didn't push, didn't ask for more because this was enough. This was all he wanted. He had a blissed out expression as he suckled your nipple, occasionally dragging his tongue over the stiff heap before going back to the steady, rhythmic motion.
You could feel the heat slowly coiling in your gut, how every motion of the wet warmth on your sensitive flesh made it worse. But you didn't have the heart to pull away and take what you wanted. No, you could be patient for now, giving him the care he so desperately craved while running your fingertips over the short stubs of hair at the nape of his neck.
Don't worry, you would get what you craved soon enough. He would show you how grateful he is and how gluttonous when it came to you. He will be your good boy; your needy, insatiable, good boy.
homelander as that family friend that smiles in your families faces but comes to your room and fucks you everytime they let him sleep on the couch.
i refer to him as john in this | WORD COUNT: 2509 | REBLOGS APPRECIATED !
tw: smut, (double) noncon, age gap (reader is an adult), fem reader, somno, bleeding, physical abuse, public sex i guess but no one really sees so
All night he'd been staring at you; at dinner you'd be eating, and he'd be watching you so intensely. The way you opened your mouth so wide to get the food on your fork in your mouth made him think of you opening your mouth like that for his cock. You'd notice his stares and get super uncomfortable, looking around nervously, which aroused him. You were so cute and shy around him mainly because he was intimidating and strange and very loud….
Your parents let him stay a few days since his house is being exterminated. He wasn’t a bad guest until the second night. You were lying on your bed on your phone; it was like 3 am. Your door was open because you couldn’t bother to get up and close it even if you were thinking about closing it for 2 hours; you were too busy scrolling to get up. John went to the bathroom across from your room in the hall about 20 minutes ago to take a shower.
You didn’t really care as long as he didn’t move your stuff, so it wasn’t on your mind till he came out of the bathroom butt-ass naked and walked past your open door, his cock jumping with each step; your eyes went so wide. He knows you were going to still be awake; he did that on purpose. He only got a glimpse of your reaction; your wide eyes and slack jaw made him smile.
The next day you were sitting at the dining room table eating some cereal as your mom was messing around in the kitchen. John woke up a few minutes ago, sitting up on the couch, stretching and groaning when his back cracked loudly. “Wow, I'm getting old." Your mom laughed, and you just had a straight face. You didn't even want to turn to the living room. But you didn’t have to. He got up and made his way to the dining room table. "How'd you sleep?” he spoke, leaning with his hand flat on the table
you were silent for a few seconds “uhm… i didn’t sleep much…”
He made a fake worried expression. "Oh, young lady, you must get some rest if you want to keep that brain intact, hm?"
“Uhh, yeah, I guess I just had a lot on my mind.”
it was fascinating to him that you hadn’t told your parents what you saw last night; he figured you were perfect for keeping secrets…
The rest of the morning was so awkward you just wanted to get out of the house. You got dressed and were just about to go out the door. "Where are you off to?” your father asked. "Umm, just going to the mall…”
“you sure you want to go alone… there was an incident in that area a few days ago…”
you pursed your lips together
“I think I'll be fine…”
“No, no, why don’t you let John go with you? You could help him find a toy for his son too. "Why wasn’t his son with him anyway…
you tried to object, "Uhm—I"
“Ah, yes, I can take her…” john stood up and walked over to you, patting you on the shoulder
“you’re not dressed and I—I was trying to leave now…” you tried to find a way to have him NOT come with you
"Won't take me long to get dressed; I'm not a beauty queen” he gave THAT smile
“go ahead and get dressed, John; she can wait," your father said sternly
you sighed and plopped down on the couch as john made his way to his bag to get out some clothes then to the guest bathroom
Soon he came out. "Dressed in only 5 minutes; now let's go." he waved his arm towards himself
you let out a deep breath and walked out the door with him
"Have fun!” your father yelled
"We will," John smiled.
You sighed as you started the car, adjusting your seat since your dad had driven the car last, and he always put the seat back far too much.
"What's your problem?"
you just stared at him… Is he serious? You saw his whole dick and balls last night, and now you’re being forced to be in a car with him. What does he think your problem is? You just stayed silent, turning on the radio and driving to the mall. He kept trying to start a conversation the whole ride, and you gave lackluster replies.
When you arrived at the mall, he kept trying to speak to you as the automatic doors of the mall opened. “Look, I was trying to come here to get away from you; leave me alone!” you said before walking into the mall, leaving him behind.
After you were done walking around the mall, you called John on the phone because you had to drive him back home. He answered in a sing-songy tone, "Hellooo."
"Where are you?"
“by the bathrooms”
"Which… bathrooms?"
“the ones by the apple store”
"Well, can you come to the entrance?"
"I'm not done shopping. Why don't you meet me here? i have to go to this toy shop after i finish in the bathroom."
“uhhh… okay fine” you hang up
He smiled, standing by the bathrooms waiting for you
you walked up and you couldn’t see him so you just assumed he was still in the bathroom and leaned on the wall until he snatched you and pulled you into the bathroom with him
"What the fuck?!”
he covered your mouth, his hand taking up half your face covering your nose as well
“listen to me and shut the fuck up."
your heart raced, your eyes were wide and beginning to tear up, and you could barely breathe because his hand
"You're going to listen, okay… no talking back. When I take my hand off your mouth, don’t make a fucking peep, or you’ll regret it.”
you just stared at him
he took his hand off your mouth and you immediately went to scream. He slapped the fuck out of you, which made you shut up and rub your face before he turned you around, pressing your face against the cold tile wall
"You want to scream; I can make you in a way that's far more beneficial to me.” He kicked your legs apart and pulled your dress up and your panties down. He stroked your clit with his fingers, which did nothing. He sighed and pulled down his pants and boxers, his hard cock flying out like it was magnetically attracted to your cunt. "I guess I have to do it the hard way. I'm sorry, sweetheart." He pushed the tip of his cock inside of you with a groan. You squealed; he was so thick it hurt so bad, especially dry. He didn’t even spit on it or anything.
You just breathed heavily trying to get through it; his thrusts became harder and faster. The friction was unbearable, and you were sure you were bleeding. You were. John was staring down at more and more of your blood covering his cock with each thrust. It made him even more horny; he was so close already. You just cried, "It hurts! Please stop!” you whined. He slapped your ass. “I’m almost done. Quit whining. Don't rush me or I'll prolong it; I could go more rounds than one.” You just pouted after that; you didn’t want this to take longer than it had to. He gripped onto your hip and left tit hard, He thrust into you sloppily. He was about to cum; he pulled his hips all the way back and thrust hard into you one last time, pushing you fully against the wall as he came deep inside of you. He groaned, laying his head on your back. "You feel so good, hah…” he breathed out with a smile. He pulled out of you, some of his cum dripping out. He shoved it back in with his fingers and quickly pulled your underwear up. He pulled your dress back down and fixed you up. You were limp, so he had to help you out of the bathroom.
He ended up driving you home. Understandably, you were completely out of it; he had to walk you to the car, and you were limping. The concerned looks of others aroused him; they were all seeing what he made you into.
When you got home, you locked yourself in your room, not even eating dinner. Your parents were wondering what was wrong. John just told them some employee at the mall was really rude to you and you felt super down about it, and of course in this made-up story he says he told them off.
You just curled up in bed still feeling the pain in your vagina. You couldn’t bring yourself to go shower; you were genuinely drained. A few hours later you managed to fall asleep.
Around 2am, when everyone, including you, was asleep, John tiptoed up the stairs hoping for a second round. He couldn’t get the feeling of your cunt out of his head; he was so hard, why jerk off when he has the real girl right upstairs and this is his last night here… Might as well take you one more time.
He turned the knob to your door, only to find out it was locked. He smacked his teeth and looked around till he had the idea to go to your bathroom and use your bobby pin to open the door, which he successfully did. He walked into your room and closed the door behind himself. He crept towards your bed and sat on the edge, the mattress dipping under his weight. He just watched you for a second before he finally went into action.
He pulled your dress up, revealing most of your body. He could see the bruises from his treatment of you forming on your hips and tits. He also noticed his cum from earlier seeping through your panties; it made his cock twitch. He pressed his thumb against your clit through your panties; you whined and squirmed in your sleep. He bit his lip; he can't get any harder. He pulled your panties down and put your legs on his shoulders. He pulled his boxers down, letting his cock spring free. He started rubbing his cock against your cunt, covering his cock in your juices, which he was excited about because he didn’t get to do that earlier. He guided his cock to your entrance, pushing in slowly. You started to stir, waking up.
"Hm..." you whined, blinking your eyes open. You saw him and your eyes widened; he covered your mouth. "Shhh, be quiet. You know what happens when you scream.” You started to cry. You squirmed as he pushed all the way in. Why was he so fucking huge? You whined, hitting him, trying to get him to stop, but he just took your punches as he thrust into you, his head drawn back as he groaned, "Your pussy is perfect, you know that, sweetheart?” You didn’t answer; you just shut your eyes. He paused and moved to lift you up, putting you in a new position
he had you in the lotus position so he could move your body up and down on his cock and also see your face and make you look at him. it was such a romantic position but this situation wasn’t romantic at all, at least to you… To him it was extremely romantic. He placed his hands on your hips, moving them for you. You felt so disgusting. He lifted your dress up and over your head, throwing it somewhere in your room. In this new position he was so deep inside you, stretching you out again; all you could do was cry.
He looked at your tear-stained face and moaned; it turned him on so much seeing you cry. He licked along your cheeks, tasting the salty result of his actions. You just whimpered with an expression of disgust as he fucked into your soft body.
You were so in shock your door was locked. How did he even get in? Why is he like this? He kept grinding his hips down on himself and is now bucking his hips up too. He was so close; he gets close so fast with you. "You're a perfect young lady—I hope you'll... mm keep our secret so I can come back and fill this perfect cunt up again. You just moaned; it was embarrassing how this time your body did react to him. You were tightening around him; you were going to cum soon too.
You rested your head on his shoulder, tears still flowing from your eyes as you started to grind down on him yourself to cum and be done with this, which made him smile. "See, you like it. I know what's best for you… Aren't you lucky I'm doing this too, you… Who else could make you feel like this?" He put his hands behind him flat on the bed and began to thrust up into you erratically. You were basically being bounced on his pelvis. You cried out; his cock was hitting your cervix over and over. It was so uncomfortable but pleasurable at the same time. You started to feel a feeling deep in your tummy; each thrust brought you closer to orgasm.
It was like one of those carnival games where you hit the plate with a mallet and the ball hits the bell; he was hitting your bell over and over till it cracked. You practically screamed as you came. He quickly covered your mouth; as much as he loved your sounds, he'd like to be able to keep coming back and not alert your parents of what he's been doing to you. He kept on thrusting into you, trying to get off. The feeling of you cumming brought him closer. After a few more thrusts, he came with a stifled groan as he was trying not to make noise himself. He held on to you tightly, putting his face in the crook of your neck, kissing it, and licking your sweat.
“Shh, shh, it’s okay, sweetheart..." I’m done for today,” he mumbled again, and you just let out a squeaky sigh. He pulled out of you and lay you down on your bed. He curled up behind you.
He cuddled you for a few minutes, running his hands through your hair, occasionally sniffing it. "You were such a good girl this time…” You were just silent; you couldn’t speak if you wanted to. "Maybe next time I'll eat your cunt; I'm sure it’s just as sweet as you." He was getting a little hard again just thinking about it, but he wasn’t going to fuck you again tonight.
When he was done “comforting” you, he just went back downstairs like none of it happened; he was confident that you wouldn’t tell anyone.
Yes but I feel like he would only do it when you don’t want him to. It’s such an intimate act. You’ll attempt to push him away as he pulled your legs apart and he’ll just laugh because you’re obvious to the fact that that’s exactly what turns him on and keeps him going. when eating you out, He loves pushing your boundaries he wants you to be reminded that just because he has somewhat of a soft spot for you doesn’t mean you’re his equal or that you can deny him your body. Then to make it overkill he’ll make you cum till it hurts. when he presses his tongue on your clit again it makes you so uncomfortable. You’ll writhe, whimper and cry but he’ll push your hip down so harshly it feels like he’ll break it, break it so you can’t kick him off or leave him, he’s thought about it at times like this but he likes you having mobility to do what he wants as well so he’s decided not the break your bones, doesn’t mean he can’t scare you into thinking he will.
Drinks because oddly enough I have such panelsand probably need to go back and get the ones I missed... I enjoy such panels, the small bit of detail they add are lovely and I love it.
masterlist ⠀! ⠀ do not plagiarize, repost, or translate works without the knowledge or consent of the creator in other platforms or websites. ✶
His love language is acts of service.
He read that somewhere—some stupid quiz you made him take一and he latched onto it like a lifeline because it made him sound normal.
See?
See??
He's not a freak, he just likes doing things for you. It's a legitimate psychological concept. It's on the internet, go look it up. It's real.
He loves it when you want something from him. He lives for it. Thrives on it. Gets dizzy with it the second you so much as look at an empty glass.
You barely have to open your mouth. You just shift on the couch and sigh and he's already upright, already halfway to the kitchen, already aching.
"Water? Snacks? A blanket? Your heating pad? Do you want the kitten mug or the big one? Do you—"
"Just water, baby."
Baby.
His knees almost buckle.
Focus.
Water. You need water. He can do that. He's getting you water. Look at him go一such a good boyfriend, so attentive, so caring, he's fucking nailing this.
He pours the water so carefully. No ice. You don't like it too cold, it hurts your teeth, and he remembered that because he remembers everything about you, every tiny preference, every little sound you make when you're happy.
Pathetic. So fucking pathetic.
He hands you the glass with both hands like an offering at an altar. Bouncing a little on his heels. Doesn't even realize he's holding his breath until you take a sip and your throat moves and he's watching the little bob of it and his mouth is dry but that doesn't matter because—
He have to be patient.
Waiting.
Just waiting for it.
Come on. Come on. Say it. Say the words. Give him the thing. He needs it.
"Thank you, love."
Oh.
The words hit his brain like a shot of something warm and syrupy. Thank you. You thanked him. He did good. He did good and you noticed and you said thank you and now he's standing there with his heart doing backflips in his chest.
He wants more. He wants you to say it again. He wants you to pat his head and tell him he did such a good job, that he's so helpful, that you don't know what you'd do without him. He's practically vibrating with it, this desperate, aching need for your approval, and it's pathetic, he knows it's pathetic, he's a grown man getting high off a thank you like it's a line of coke—
Cute isn't he?
No.
No, he's not cute.
He's a dog. A mangy. panting. desperate dog who just got a pat on the head for fetching.
And he gets hard like a dog in heat too.
Always hard.
Always.
You could ask him to pass the salt and he'd have to adjust himself under the table.
You could ask him to zip up your dress and his hands would shake and he'd have to bite the inside of his cheek until it bled just to keep from moaning at the brush of his knuckles against your spine.
What a loser, right?
His dick twitches.
Jesus Christ.
He's hard again.
Weirdo.
Disgusting.
Pervert.
He hates himself. He hates himself so fucking much.
Why can't he be normal? Why can't his dick just stay soft like a regular boyfriend instead of twitching every time you say his name? You're gonna hate him, aren't you?
Oh god oh god oh god.
You're gonna find out. You're going to hate him. You're going to leave him. You think he's disgusting. You think he's a creep. You're gonna leave him. You're gonna walkout that door and he'll never feel your eyes on him again and he'll die, he'll actually just curl up on the floor and stop breathing because what's the point—
"Such a good boy."
Huh?
Good boy??
Him???
He freezes.
Did you just一did those words actually come out of your mouth? Good boy.
Good. Boy.
And you're smiling.
You look so beautiful when you smile. Your soft eyes and your softer lips and the way your cheek creases just a little and he wants to lick it, he wants to suck that smile right off your face and swallow it whole so it lives inside him forever—
Nope.
Nope nope nope.
He's so hard he could die on spot.
"Um... excuse me."
The words come out strangled. He's already backing away, hands positioned awkwardly in front of his crotch like a teenager caught watching porn.
Smooth.
Real smooth.
You probably think he's having digestive issues. That's fine. That's better than the truth.
He immediately bolts to the bathroom, lock clicking behind him.
You don't know. You didn't see. You're not going to leave him. He won't let you leave him anyway. He'll lock the doors and he'll nail the windows shut and he'll chain you to bed and he'll chop your pretty legs off if he has to—
no no no no no NO!!!
Don't think that. Don't you ever fucking think that about her. You sick fuck. How can you even imagine hurting her? Chopping off her perfect pretty legs? How dare you?? How fucking dare you???
If you do that you could never feel her thighs wrapped around your head while you suck on her clit. You'd never feel them tremble and clampagainst your ears while she moans your name. You'd never get to press your tongue inside her while her legs are draped over your shoulders, soft and warm and alive.
OH!!!
Okay that's better. He gets it now.
Yeah yeah yeah. See? He's not violent. He just panicked for a second. His brain does that sometimes一throws up these horrible, intrusive images that make him want to vomit but he'd never ever act on them!! He's not a monster!!! He's just... confused. Overwhelmed. He just loves you so much alright??? So much he'd unspool his own intestines into a leash if you asked him to walk himself—
Alright. Shut up. Shut the fuck up.
Deep breath.
Okay. Okay, he's fine. He's fine. Just rub one out quick and go back out there. You're waiting. He doesn't want to keep you waiting. That would make him a bad boyfriend, and he's not—he's a good boyfriend, he's so good, you just said so, and if you said so then it must be true—
Shut. Up.
Focus.
His hand is shaking as he pulls down his jeans. He's leaking already, a slick little pearl at the tip, and it smears across his palm when he grips himself. Pathetic. So fucking pathetic.
First—first, he needs something. Something to make it faster, make it pleasing, make it so he can walk out there and not immediately pop a boner again the second you breathe in his direction.
He opens the cabinet under the sink, behind the toilet paper, behind the bleach, where he hid it.
Your panties.
The ones you thought you lost in the laundry.
The lacy ones, light blue, a little damp in the center from a long day. He found them. He found them, okay? He didn't steal them. Fuck off. He found them. That's different. Stealing is a crime. Stealing is bad. He's not a bad person. He just... found them. On the laundry room floor. He was doing laundry like a good boyfriend, separating your underwears from the regulars because he read somewhere that youre supposed to do that, and they were just... there. In his hands. And then in his pocket. And now they're pressed against his face.
Fuuuck.
The smell hits him like a drug. Musky and sweet and so distinctly you that his knees give up. He inhales deep, pressing the soiled fabric to his nose and mouth, and his dick twitches so hard a bead of pre cum drips onto the bathroom tile.
He's disgusting. He's a creep. He's a freak and a weirdo and a pathetic little lapdog who gets hard from a thank you.
You'd hate him if you knew.
He hopes you never know.
He hopes you find out.
He hopes you walk in right now and see him—cock in hand, your panties stuffed in his mouth, tears streaming down his face—and he hopes you step closer. He hopes you laugh. He hopes you call him a disgusting little mutt and pat his head and tell him he's still your good boy.
Your good boy.
Yours.
He cums so hard he sees stars. Ropes of it, hot and thick, splattering his hand, the floor, the little bathroom rug. He bites down on the panties to muffle the sob that tears out of him, and for a long moment he just kneels there, trembling, fucked, still crying, still hard.
But it's fine.
Everything's fine.
He cleans up. Flushes everything. Hides the panties again and washes his hands twice. Splashes water on his face. Looks in the mirror. Practices his smile.
He looks normal.
He is normal.
He's a good boy.
Then he opens the bathroom door and smiles.
"You okay?" you ask, tilting your head.
And he could say it. He could confess. He could drop to his knees right now and tell you everything and beg for forgiveness or punishment or whatever you wanted to give him.
Instead he just nods. Crawls onto the couch beside you. Rests his head in your lap like the loyal dog he is.
"Just missed you," he mumbles into your thigh.
You stroke his hair.
He almost gets hard again.
He's so fucked up.
But you're still here. Still petting him. Still calling him yours.
Summary: Homelander has a new plaything locked up in Vought Tower. His objective is to collect Intel on Butcher's plans, but moments can be spared now that he has the object of his obsession. stalker homelander! implied butcher x reader! cat and mouse! incarceration is high key really hot! jealous homelander!
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Her nose burned from the sting of bleach. Paired with the rusted smear on the wall, it was a sobering reminder of her predicament.
Four concrete walls and a flickering light offered an exceptional view. Vought tower's interrogation room truly deviated from its innovative front.
The cuffs weren't necessary as she wasn't enhanced. Still, the message read loud and clear. Leave all hope behind.
The door creaked open, and her head whipped toward the intrusion on principle. She wished she could feign unconsciousness instead.
“Hey!” The Deep strolled in, clipboard in hand. Suddenly, the air turned rank. He peered at her and blew out his cheeks in mock awe. “Wow, they really got you under lock and key, huh?”
He pulled the chair across from her and straddled it. Y/N watched, unsure whether he were trying to come across as relatable, or truly was, an insecure prick. Either way, she was fascinated.
“So, Y/N. Working with Butcher, huh?” He glanced at a file attached to the clipboard. “That’s not looking great for you.” His head shook dissaprovingly. "Not great," he mouthed to drive the point home.
She snorted softly.
The Deep cleared his throat. “Listen, I’m technically head of Intelligence now, so this is kind of my thing. I ask, you answer. We all go home in one piece. Cool?”
She gave a curt nod, thoroughly unimpressed.
"Great!" He flipped a page on the clipboard. “Tell me where they are. Butcher, Frenchie, MM, Hughie." He paused and wrinkled his nose. "Especially Hughie. God, he’s so average.”
He looked up like he expected her to crack.
Y/N tilted her head and silently cursed her team for putting her in this position. She glared at the Deep, figuring him a fair match. Psychologically, he was weak. She could prey on that. “Your ass is on the line here, isn't it?" It was the first time she had spoken in hours. She was pleased with the strength of her tone.
His smile twitched. “Pfft. No.” He frowned at her deep-set gaze and held his palms out. “Okay, wow. You’re being really difficult.” Standing abruptly, he pushed the chair back with a screech. Y/N watched him open his mouth to say something else when something froze him mid breath.
The door opened silently, and like a shadow, he entered.
Homelander, the big bad.
He stepped in, calm as death. His eyes were sharp, and his smile seemed forced tonight. “Thanks, Deep,” he said without a glance.
The Deep chuckled nervously. “Yeah, sure. Let's tag team this shit! You've got this, buddy. Sir, sorry." He shuffled awkwardly past Homelander and nearly sprinted out the room. A part of Y/N appreciated the sympathetic look he shot her on his way out.
The lock mechanism echoed, and Y/N's blood chilled at its lingering tinnitus. She hadn't expected a special interest.
The echo died down to silence. Homelander took its cue and walked slowly around the table, his boots clicking softly on the tile.
Y/N resisted closing her eyes and just stared ahead, watching him dissapear from her periphery. He said nothing until she felt him creep over her shoulder. “You smell like him," he remarked.
Her head snapped up.
Homelander stood directly behind her now, eyes half-lidded, head tilted, and lips parted just slightly. She imagined he were listening to a radio on a frequency nobody else could hear.
She steadied herself. "You'll have to be more specific."
“Butcher,” he clarified. “That goddamn mongrel stink. It’s all over you.”
Y/N finally shut her eyes, pride be damned. She'd had many run-ins with Homelander but always had her team at her side. She was certain that he likely knew her entire life story from a few choice files, but the way he was feeling her up now made his familiarity seem personal.
Moments passed, but she didn’t respond. Her throat felt constricted, and a pulse aggravated the collar of her shirt.
Homelander leaned closer and inhaled. His movement was slow, deep, and intimate.
“Oh yeah,” he whispered. “There it is. And a touch of fear too. That's new.” He stepped around to her side and crouched beside the chair, staring up. “Where is he hiding?”
Jagged lines crossed his face and she was entranced. As the people's hero, Homelander was the American dream. Red, White, and Blue, everybody believed in his colours.
His eyes burned a little brighter, and dilated pupils shrouded the colour everybody loved to see.
His teeth bit down hard on his bottom lip in a depraved smile. Now his hand was sidling up her thigh. "How many times have we crossed paths now? You may have lost count, but I haven't, Y/N." He pursed his lips earnestly, and nodding, he confirmed, "Six. And that's not counting the number of times I've visited you on my own terms." He let out a soft chuckle, pretending to be bashful, the way a serial killer pretends to be empathetic. "In your bedroom, at the bus stop, and in the filthiest corners of the city." He smiled. "I've seen you at every moment of every day. I'm practically a fucking shoulder angel."
He studied her wide eyes and cocked his head to the side. "Does that disturb you?"
"Not just me?" Y/N asked quietly, hopefully. Her thoughts were scattered, but she meant to ask whether he paid the same degree of recognition to all the Boys or if she were at the centre of a dark obsession.
He laughed softly. "You're timid. That's sweet." Then his hand came up, hovering just above her cheek. Not touching. Just close enough that she could nearly feel the heat radiate through his gloves. “I could snap your spine through this chair,” he said softly. “Just pop. Like a twist-tie.”
She stared straight ahead, eyes locked on the far wall.
“But I won’t,” he added. “Because --" His hand caught her jaw and turned her head toward him. "Look at me," he ordered. When she did, he continued, saying, "I like the game. I like watching the cracks.” He stood up, dragging his fingers lightly along the top of her shoulders, and trailing down her back with maddening slowness.
It wasn’t a caress. It was a claim.
"I don't know when it started, so don't ask, but I just can't stop thinking about you." He let out a desperate laugh. "Crazy, isn't it?" His hands were back at her shoulders, and his grip was tight. Y/N cried out. "I could have had you at any time, you know. But the fact that you just waltzed into the tower, directly into my grasp, really was the cherry on top for me."
And then he leaned in. So close, his lips brushed the shell of her ear.
“Do you let him touch you?” he whispered.
Y/N clenched her jaw. Her mind was hazy, but still, it worked overtime trying to determine who he meant. "Butcher?" She asked incredulously.
“That filthy little man,” he murmured. “He doesn’t deserve you. Doesn’t even understand what you are.”
She fought the sting in her eyes, and blamed it on the harshness of the bleach. "You think you know me?" She challenged. It lacked depth.
Homelander’s smile widened. “Oh, I do. You think I don’t see it? The fear and the fire. I feel you hold your breath when I get close.” He leaned down again, buried his face in the curve of her neck, and breathed.
“Do you know what the difference is between Butcher and I?” he said against her skin. She felt the hands on her shoulders twitch. “He’d die for you. I wouldn’t." His nose traced a line to the slope of her jaw. "I would just keep you."
Homelander straightened and walked back to the table, tapping the top of it absently.
“You’ll tell me what I need eventually,” he said. “Because isolation does wonderful things to the human brain. But don't worry, that's not all we'll inflict on that insane little mind of yours.”
He turned at the door and smiled. His teeth gleamed, and it was nearly charming beneath the mania.
“I’ll visit soon. Really, I'm pleased you're here. It'll be good for us, you know." Then he frowned. "That shirt doesn’t smell like you anymore. I'll fix that.”
He stepped out and Y/N finally exhaled. Her body ached from the ice running through her.
Tomorrow held no promise of salvation.
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Maybe a part 2, we'll see! Homelander is so broken, love that for him! Let me know if you'd like to join my taglist or have any requests!
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ One of Homelander's favorite things to do is exercise control and exploit his powers. Naturally, his compulsion to domineer carries directly into his sex life. You've catered to him in every way he's asked, but tonight, Homelander craves more. All of you, in fact; starting with your absolute trust and ending in your climax.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You meet him on the Vought Tower rooftop and begin to undress after recieving a curt nod from him. Initially, he stood admiring the skyline, but now his eyes blaze down your lingerie-clad body. "You're not finished," he tuts, and hums in approval when you strip completely. Keeping his eyes locked on yours, he unzips himself below the belt but otherwise stays dressed. Your skin itches with anticipation when he approaches and takes hold of your waist. He pulls you against his front so you can feel his erection. With deft fingers, he tilts your chin and a winning smile curls on his lips to whisper, "Hold on tight."
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ The ascent is destabilizing. Your breath catches when he lifts you into clouds marked by a setting sun. Homelander grips you by the back of your thighs and a dull ache throbs where fingertips meet skin. Your knees lock around his thighs instinctively and he gives a light laugh. Below you, the tower's glass facade catches the last glints of daylight. Homelander gently pushes his cheek against yours so that you focus entirely on him instead.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ His right hand slides up from your thigh to cup your jaw, forcing you to meet the desire in his gaze. "Lift your legs higher," he says, eyes hooded. "Wrap them around me." The wind whips your hair across your face. His touch is unyielding. “I'm going to fuck you now,” he says, gently grazing your earlobe with his teeth.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ His body is rigid and he stands on the air with grace, subtly dipping and rising. Your hands grip tightly around his neck, dependent on his strength. A perverse pleasure sends a thrill down his spine as he considers dropping you.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He kisses you hard, his tongue pressing into your mouth to stake his claim, and with one heavy thrust, he is inside you. His lips part slightly and he lets out a low moan, fine perspiration dotting his forehead.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ The air is chilled at this altitude. It contrasts deliciously with the feverish heat of his body. His movements turn frenzied as he chases his high. The twist of his hips makes you arch and gasp against his mouth. His eyes fly open, teeth gritting together as he watches.
⋆｡𖦹°‧★ His climax is striking, and he loses his stability for a moment, causing both of you to drop into a sudden freefall before he snaps back into a steady hover. You can feel his legs tremble and the harsh beating in his chest when he finally lowers you both to the rooftop again. Dropping you gently onto the concrete, he smoothly adjusts his suit. There's a radiance to him now, and he seems restored by the submission he just claimed from you.
A/N: I want to go to Moo Lab again, I need a milkshake to fuel my dirty, smut writing
Homelander couldn't say no to his lover. So when his lover said how he had sex was horrible, his ego got the best of him, so he threw a hissy fit like a toddler, like normal.
But instead of you taking back your claim, you backed down and said you'd get his dad to show him how to fuck like a man.
Of course, Homelander didn't think you’d actually get Soldier Boy to fuck you. After all, you were his son’s lover, but Homelander was wrong.
So, here he was tied up in rope - he easily could break out of - on a chair, forced to watch you get fucked by Soldier Boy like it was the best thing to ever happen to you. He was getting so hard hearing the moans you let out as his dad hit that spot in you.
The spot he could never find.
“Fucking hell. You're perfect.” Soldier Boy grunted, smiling a bit as he fucked you so hard all you could do was whine, moan and choke on your own moans.
“Dad…” Homelander muttered, pulling weakly at his ropes as his cock strained in his supe outfit.
Soldier Boy grunted, slamming his hips into your ass as he fucked you harder. “What, son?” Soldier boy grunted out in annoyance at being interrupted by his cuck of a son.
“Please let me… Let me join?” Homelander squeaked out. There was a dark spot in his super suit where his cock was; the younger man was leaking like a pipe.
Soldier Boy scoffed, his movements getting harsher towards you, but you didn't mind. You were loving it; it had been a while since you got properly fucked and taken care of. Homelander wasn't good at giving pleasure, only receiving.
“You think I'd let you join? Boy, you probably don't even know how to jerk off.” Soldier mocked, looking his son dead in the eyes as he he fuck you, his son’s lover.
You felt a bit bad for your boyfriend for the harsh words thrown at him, but at the same time, watching him being put in his place was very arousing. More than it should really be, to be honest, seeing him this pathetic shouldn't make you so wet.
Homelander suddenly let out a half-choke as he twitched in the rope, and the dark spot suddenly got darker. Homelanders' ears went red with embarrassment, and he looked down, ashamed, the flush flooding his face and whole body language.
A mock laugh went through the room harshly.
“You came untouched like a damn bottom. You'll never be a real man.” Soldier Boy chuckled, making Homelander whine and look at you with his stupid puppy eyes.
You couldn't help but feel bad, even as Soldier Boy was fucking you so good you really couldn't talk much. It didn't take long after Homelander came for you to come and basically pass out.
When you finally came to your senses, you felt cleaner than you did when you were getting fucked. Kisses were being planted all over your chest as well. Opening your eyes, you were met with a head of blond hair and soft whining.
“Mine… mine.. mine…” Homelander muttered softly as he planted soft kisses
“You okay?” You asked, shocking Homelander. He didn't think you were awake yet, but he nodded slightly.
“Can we do that again?” Homelander muttered. It was clear that it had turned him on more than he'd ever admit. You were shocked but nodded, getting railed properly felt nice and seeing your boyfriend get off on seeing you get fucked by his dad was hotter than it should be.
Summary:You're Homelander's daughter and you're spending time with your dad when your grandfather tells an incestuous joke that makes you uncomfortable.
Type: Platonic, One-shot
Warning:inappropriate things
══💞══╡°˖✧💌✧˖°╞══💞══
The soft light of the setting sun streamed through the windows of the penthouse's main living room. It was one of those rare moments when Homelander seemed almost… human.
He sat on the enormous leather sofa, his arm around your shoulders as you watched an old 80s movie he'd chosen. His red cape lay folded over the back of the sofa. He wasn't wearing his full suit, just the trousers and a fitted shirt.
"Now this was real cinema," he murmured, smiling with that mixture of nostalgia and superiority. "None of that digital crap you like, honey."
You were leaning against his side, more relaxed than usual. Almost two hours had passed without shouting, without tension, without Soldier Boy. Just you and your dad. Until the peace was shattered.
Soldier Boy walked into the living room with a beer in his hand and his ever-present joint between his fingers. He didn't even ask permission. He plopped down on the sofa opposite you, brazenly stretching his legs out.
“Look at them,” he said with a husky laugh, watching them with that crooked smile. “Father and daughter snuggled up on the couch. How sweet. It reminds me of my little sister and me when we were kids.” Homelander let out a short laugh, more out of politeness than genuine amusement.
Soldier Boy took a long swig of his beer and continued, his eyes never leaving them: “Although… damn, if my sister had grown up with the body you have now”—he looked directly at his legs and then slowly moved his gaze upward—“I swear I wouldn’t have settled for just cuddles on the couch. It would have been hard not to cross the line, huh, son?” He gave Homelander an imaginary nudge. “Family is family, but a pussy is a pussy.”
The silence that followed was immediate and heavy.
You felt your blood run cold.
Homelander's arm was still around your shoulders, but suddenly it felt suffocating. Your stomach churned. You jerked away, almost pushing him off, and stood up from the sofa as if you'd been burned.
Homelander blinked, confused.
"Honey…?"
You didn't answer. Your face was burning, and you had a lump in your throat. You felt Soldier Boy's gaze on you, amused, almost defiant.
"I'm… I'm going to my room," you murmured, your voice lower than you wanted.
You left the living room without looking back, your footsteps quick on the marble floor. You could feel your chest tightening. Disgust, shame, and something worse swirled in your stomach. You didn't even close your bedroom door gently; you pushed it open and slid down onto the floor.
The voices were still drifting from the living room.
Homelander, tense:
"Dad… that wasn't funny."
Soldier Boy, laughing heartily:
"Relax, kid. It was just a joke. Or are you upset that someone else noticed how hot your little girl is?"
Cooley notes: Thinking about John being a lost puppy to Batman!Reader. To everyone else, he's scary and cruel, but to you, he's an annoying guard dog.
John stands behind, his hand gently dancing around against hips, his head nuzzled into your shoulder as your typing continues on the Seven’s computer. He’s whining like a little puppy wanting, no, begging for attention and it’s pissing you off badly.
“We got voted best-looking couple on Vought’s page, ya know,” he whispers against your neck.
He definitely made the media team at Vought post that stupid thing, because there’s no way you would get caught dead with him especially for some ridiculous publicity stunt.
“Oh, really,” comes the muttered, uncaring reply, fingers still flying across the keyboard.
“We should do more team-ups. That sunshine-and-grumpy thing works wonders for the media,” he continues, voice dripping with smug charm. It’s like he’s trying to pull you into a half-baked relationship that only benefits himm
“No.” your answer is simple, clipped. Typing continues, scrolling through document after document. His blond hair tickles the skin near the mouth part of your mask, and all that runs through the mind is: Get off me. Get off me. Get off me.
He leans closer, the padded muscle of his suit pressing against your back. “I bet you’re tired of working alone,” he murmurs, moving his face up to stare directly, blue eyes narrowing when there’s no response.
“Heyyy… look at me, I’m talking to you!”
He moves the other you back and forth, trying to force eye contact.
“You’re such a damn puppy, John! Geez, can you stop?” You shout finally breaking through the aloof persona, your voice cracking with frustration.
Most would be terrified, expecting him to snap, to let those eyes glow red.
Instead, he beams. “You looked at me!” he chirps, grinning like a happy puppy.
I found Sentinel extremely attractive in this scene, love the lean in he does at the camera when he goes, "...and secretly a traitor," with the voice drop >///<
cw: yandere, toxic behaviour, power imbalance, brief mentions of violence, slight nsfw, slight dubcon
a/n: inspired to do some more 'light hearted' hcs while i'm in the middle of finishing pt 2 to my homelander fic......lowkey might have to do some yandere!seven and yandere!annie hcs soon...........wait yandere!sage would go crazy woah…
homelander’s ego is through the roof so once he’s met you it isn’t a question of if you’ll date him but more so when you’ll date
unfortunately homelander is incapable of being a normal human being so while he could theoretically meet someone out in the wild he's probably going to get attached to someone who works for vought in some capacity
i love love love all of the 'homelander falling for a non-supe/ intern/assistant trope'
the power imbalance is very yummy
he isn't the kind of yandere who will bide their time and wait for the right moment
he's The Homelander™ for god's sake!
doesn't matter which division you work for, he will introduce himself the moment he's interested in you (he will definitely neg you at least 3 times in the first conversation), and then turn you into his personal assistant all within a week
he hates how weak and juvenile having a crush on you feels but don't worry! it gets much deeper than a crush in no time
he's absolutely willing to try and get into a relationship with you the normal way (or at least as normal as dating homelander can be) but the second there's one minor inconvenience or you don't seem as receptive as he likes, it's gonna go south quickly -- even for his standards
homelander flies above you on your journey home without you realising since he can't stand the idea of you getting hurt all because he wasn't giving you adequate attention
so really it's only fair he gets to hover by your bedroom and peek through your windows using his x-ray vision once he's made sure you got home in one piece
he's a perv
homelander is obviously going to break into your house but he doesn't see it as breaking in
he's simply spending time in his future partner's home, you just don't know you belong to him yet
likes to move things around and watch the panicked look on your face from where he stalks hides from outside your window
he thinks everything about your helplessness against him is soooo cute :)
speaking of him being a perv, i like to imagine tha he was bored one day and stole all your bras (if you wear them)
#hesniffingthem
when you got to work he was not so subtly staring at your chest the entire time
yes he got a boner, no you’re not gonna do anything about it because he’s homelander
the image of your shocked face when you looked down to his lower half is burned into his mind
he only does stuff like this when the two of you are alone
he’s got a reputation to uphold after all
he monopolises ALL of your time -- you no longer have a home life because everything centres around homelander now
tells you what to wear at work and might even surprise you with a whole new office wardrobe
says it’s a new incentive for the employees and yet somehow you’re the only one getting stuff hmmm
he will trap you in some random copy room and talk your ear off about the most asinine things ever just to be around you
he hates that he can smell your fear and hear your heart pounding whenever he's near but he will fix that soon
he's definitely gonna ask if you notice anything new about him in these conversations and will visibly deflate if you don't notice he's used a new cologne because he overheard you talking from 10 floors away about how you like guys who use it
spiritually a loser c'mon
he never bothers trying to impress other people as it's usually the other way around, especially for mud people with no powers like you, so your disinterest absolutely kills him inside
he will be taking out his rage on some poor intern later since he really doesn't want to hurt you too much just yet
you probably did notice but felt too scared to just speak normally with him
he’s gonna invite you to his penthouse all the time and if you dare decline he’s going to make your life at work hell
soon you learn never to say no to his invitations
it’s lowkey awkward because he’s incapable of just talking like a regular person
he doesn’t see it that way though he thinks every little ‘date’ you two have is a success
speaking of rage, he will kill any of your coworkers that seem a little bit too comfortable with you
at first he hides it from you but the deeper his obsession gets the more of his insanity he's going to show
he knows you're a kind person, it's one of the reasons he can't get enough of you, so if you know that you will be responsible for any future deaths then maybe you'll obey his orders more often
if this is what he needs to do to ensure you stay with him he will do it
OH he doesn’t even ask you to date him if it’s gone on long enough, he just calls you his girlfriend in a meeting with the seven and that’s that
all of this is to say you will never have a normal life again once he stakes his claim on you
Funny, I can really feel my teeth! @downerette - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
