Rae's Fictional Works

Technical main blog is @nepenthe-raes-affairs (for my bullshit) but this is basically my main blog because writing and freaking out over too many fandoms to list is all I do anymore. 18+ ONLY. DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU ARE A MINOR. I identify as Non-Binary but since I was AFAB, most of my works (mainly if they have smut) feature F!reader and will be tagged if otherwise.

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[fictional-affairs]

The Bard & The Thief

Title: The Bard and The Thief

Ship: Eddie Munson / F!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.6k

Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, dungeons & dragons, ttrpg, flirting, mentions of sex work, traps, self-sacrifice, confession of feelings (mutual), self deprecation, meddling kids, implied smut

AO3 Link

Summary: After pursuing each others’ characters in a D&D campaign, you and Eddie realize your feelings for each other in real life.

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Your party was getting ready to head into a dungeon you knew you may not come out of, and you, being the thief, were the lucky designated one to go ahead of the group to check for traps. 

“Wait,” Eddie’s character, Ricardo, said. “Before you go, I just wanted to say how badass you are. I know you’ll get us through here, like you always do.” 

“Take a point of inspiration,” Dustin told you. This was his first time DMing a big campaign for your group, and for the past month you’ve been meeting up for whole weekends to play, and now you were at the end of it all, getting ready to fight Tiamat in the Hells.

You only moved to town last year, and very recently joined the DnD group at Dustin’s insistence once he talked to you and learned you played, meeting resistance from pretty much all the guys (including Eddie), but Erica and Max both vouched for you, so here you were. 

So anytime Eddie’s character Ricardo had started flirting with yours, you had brushed it off as an antic to get you to quit the campaign. He was a bard, he flirted with everyone at the table that was an appropriate age for him. 

At least, he had at first. But over time, Ricardo had matured, stopped flirting with anything that moved, stopped paying for sex, and focused on the party’s larger problems at hand, like the enemy they were about to confront. He became more of a team player, and more appreciative of everyone’s role in the party. Now of course, as a Dungeon Master himself, Eddie already knew all of these things– but this is the character we’re discussing here. 

Ricardo became especially appreciative of one role in particular: yours. You had begun to notice that he would usually inspire you before anyone else, and that you worked particularly well as a team despite both being rogue classes. Your characters had started to take your watches together whenever your party took a long rest, and had gotten closer to each other than they felt to anyone else in the party, confiding their darkest secrets with each other. 

“Thanks Ricardo,” you replied in character. “I couldn’t do it without you…sometimes,” you teased, earning a chuckle from Eddie. “Okay, I’m going in.”

The first two traps were a breeze to disarm, but the next wasn’t so easy. You passed your check to discern the nature of the trap, but unfortunately the only way to disable it included an incredibly high risk of triggering it, and trigger it you did. You were now closed off in a separate chamber, with two opposite walls moving in on you, and you’d need to stop them before they crushed you to death. 

Then you realized you didn’t use your inspiration when you failed the check to disable the trap, so you decided to invoke it now with a perception check while the walls closed in on you, and you just barely succeeded in finding a way to stop the trap and open the chamber.

“Ricardo shoves his way through everyone to get to Evanora first and throws his arms around her,” Eddie says. “You are not allowed to do that alone again. The stakes are way too high.”

“The stakes are exactly why I have to go in alone so that I don’t risk getting anyone else in the party killed by fucking up!” your character argued.

“No, you don’t understand. I can’t…I…I’ve lost too many people, I can’t lose anyone else…”

What ensued was a heart-wrenching confession scene between your characters that had nearly everyone at the table crying, including you. Even Eddie was tearing up a bit. And several hours later, when Tiamat only had ten hit points left, Ricardo sacrificed himself to distract Tiamat while Evanora made the final blow, bringing tears to everyone’s eyes once more. 

“I want to strike before Tiamat even has time to see Ricardo,” you declared. “Evanora’s not losing him. She doesn’t need the sneak attack if I can roll high enough damage on a normal attack.”

You rolled exactly ten hit points, saving Ricardo, and killing Tiamat. “I can’t believe you did that,” Eddie said as he hugged you while you celebrated the end of the campaign. “That was so metal.”

“Thanks,” you giggled. “Now Evanora and Ricardo can have their happy ending,” you said with a soft smile. 

“Yeah…” He paused before changing the subject. “Um, do you need a ride home?”

You hesitated– you’d never spent time with Eddie alone before, much less in his van. But you did need a ride home. “Yeah, actually. Thanks,” you told him. 

But talking to him in real life was just as easy as talking to him in-character had been. Of course it was, why wouldn’t it be? Maybe Eddie had just seemed like this unimpressable person this whole time given his initial reaction to Dustin’s suggestion for you to join the party. 

When he pulled into your driveway, he turned to face you before unlocking the doors to let you out. “None of that was weird for you, was it?” he asked. 

Your eyes narrowed, unsure what he was referring to. “What?”

“The…the stuff we said at the table back there– the stuff Ricardo said at the table back there?”

You squinted even more. “Why would it be weird?” you asked. You were well-versed in DnD and this certainly hadn’t been the first romance your character had with another party member. 

Eddie shook his head and turned away, unlocking the doors. “Nevermind. It’s stupid.”

But this was one of the first real conversations you were having with him, so you weren’t letting it go. “Tell me,” you gently insisted.

He let out a long sigh and waited another long moment before speaking again. “Because…what if I was feeling some of those things for you…in real life?” He said without looking at you. 

Your heart stopped. You had a crush on Eddie the first moment you laid eyes on him that you had quickly squashed when he had seemingly made it clear he didn’t want you in the party. “What things?”

Your words gave him hope, and he looked back at you again. “All the corny things… like how beautiful and smart and talented and brave you are.”

You snorted, “Eddie, I’m not any of those things in real life…”

Then it was Eddie’s turn to snort. “But you are! Evanora wouldn’t be any of those things if you didn’t have those qualities too,” he argued. 

“It’s not the same,” you continued to protest without paying attention to the fact that he was slowly leaning closer to you. “I can’t actually do any of those things in real life, I can’t pick locks or disarm traps or solve mysteries or–” you were cut off when his lips pressed against yours. You closed your eyes, relaxing into the kiss for as long as it lasted. His lips were so soft, even softer than you’d always imagined, and his hands were gently cupping your cheeks.

“I don’t want Evanora. I want you,” he murmured when you finally pulled away from each other. “If you’ll have me, that is…”

He was afraid of rejection when you began your sentence with, “Eddie, I…” Until you finished the sentence by kissing him back. You surprised him even more when you eventually slid your tongue past his lips and tangled your fingers in his hair, a quickly hardening bulge in his pants.

A slight moan escaped him, and he forced himself to pull away. “I should probably be a gentleman right about now,” he whispered breathily, his lips still only millimeters away from yours. 

“Okay,” you sighed in disappointment. But you still had a trick up your sleeve. “Be a gentleman and walk me to the front door?”

He smiled. “Okay.”

Once you made it to the front door, he caged you in against it and kissed you again briefly before asking, “This isn’t some kind of trick to get me caught by your parents so your dad will kill me, is it?”

You hummed, kissing him again before telling him, “Actually, the trick is that my parents aren’t home tonight… If you want to come in…”

He groaned in fake frustration. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

You pulled him down by the collar for another kiss. “More like trying to make sure this is real. Because if you come inside, then I know it can’t be.”

He cocked his head questioningly. “What makes you say that?”

“The Eddie Munson I know would never want to be with me.”

His head tilted further. “Why do you think that? Why do you keep saying stuff like this?”

“Why didn’t you want to let me in the group at first?” you countered. 

His head finally dropped and he sighed in exasperation. “It’s gonna sound really stupid.”

“Well now I definitely want to hear this,” you said, cracking a smile. 

“Because I knew Dustin was playing matchmaker, and I didn’t want him to be right,” he told you. 

You rolled your eyes. “You really think this was part of some master plan of his? Us?”

“Mhmmm,” he hummed dreamily. “But I don’t know, I think I made my peace with it. I kinda like that I like you.”

“Kinda?”

“Fine, more than kinda,” he murmured before kissing you again.

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes

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[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

My Perfection

Title: Chapter 2 - A First Date

Ship: Homelander / Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~1.9k

Tags: fluff, arranged marriage, flying, theme park/roller coasters, photographers, pining!Homie, did I mention fluff?

AO3 Link

Summary: John puts a fair amount of effort into planning your first date. 

A/N: Soooooo this is something I started about 2 years ago and finally recently finished, and I want to thank @madhatter2727 for being my cheerleader along the way :)

*Previous Chapter*

Once he had figured out where he wanted to take you as your first official ‘date’, he decided to talk to you himself rather than having some Vought intern relay the message; you were a little surprised to see him on your doorstep. “May I come in?” he asked politely, even though you were already opening the door for him. 

Something about him was just so intoxicating. “Of course. To what do I owe the pleasure this morning?” you wondered, glad you had already gotten ready for the day and that he wasn’t seeing you just out of bed. 

“What’s your day look like today?” he asked as he stepped inside, not exactly answering your question, determined to learn anything and everything about you and the way you lived. Especially if you were to live with him. 

“Oh, um, well, I can cancel anything I have going on if you want me to. Apparently Vought writes the best doctor’s notes,” you tried to joke, closing the door behind him. Not even a smile. “John, I can tell you’re apprehensive about this whole arrangement. But I just think we should make the best of it, and I’d really like to get to know you– not ‘the’ Homelander, you.” 

He could tell you were speaking honestly, and despite all his reservations, for some reason, it made him want to take you on the ‘date’ he had planned even more. “Have you ever been to Voughtland?” he asked, seemingly out of the blue.

You giggled. “A couple times, when I was a kid…”

“How about I take you today?”

“Won’t it be swarming with people? Would I even get any time with you?” you countered. 

“No one will be there but us,” he answered. “Maybe some Vought photographers to grab some shots for whenever they announce our relationship,” he then added. 

“Sounds fun.”

The first thing you dragged John over to when you landed at Voughtland, after he unceremoniously asked what you wanted to do, were the roller coasters. He rolled his eyes, but obliged anyway knowing that he wouldn’t have to waste any time waiting in lines. 

You, on the other hand, were thrilled to be able to do something so normal with him, knowing he’d never done anything like this before. He’d been the Homelander for as long as you remembered, at least since he was a legal adult. He would never have had time to have a day off, especially not here of all places. Vought must have really had faith in you as a match for him to set up this date, you thought to yourself. 

It was totally worth it when you saw the look on his face from the first drop, and you wondered what expression of his the camera at the last drop of the ride would capture. You were a little surprised when you got off the ride together and skipped over to the photo desk to find the lineup of television screens displaying a photo of him staring at you in awe. 

“I want every different version of print you have for this photo!” you told the employee at the computer. 

“We can put it in a snowglobe or on a keychain, too,” the young teen suggested upon seeing your excitement. 

“Yes please! Whatever you can make it into, I want it. Can you hold it all here until we leave?”

“Sure, ma’am,” the teen answered. 

Then you grabbed hold of John’s arm and turned the two of you around. “What should we do next?” you asked him. 

“Not another ride,” he said firmly. 

Giggling, you replied, “Okay. How about a funnel cake?”

“I don’t know what that is,” he snickered. 

“It’s delicious. You’ll see.”

“It’s just a pile of batter poured through a funnel and covered in sugar,” he said a few minutes later once the greasy paper plate was in your hands. 

“Exactly. Try it,” you insisted as you tore off a piece and tried to hand it to him, but he just gave you a look. “Fine, open your mouth.”

He only questioned the demand for a moment before lowering his jaw, allowing you the space you needed to shove the piece of funnel cake into his mouth. 

You barely pulled your fingers back in time before his lips sealed around them along with the cake, carefully watching his face as he seemed to be deliberating how he felt about the snack while he chewed. “What do you think?” 

He gave you a menacing look as he swallowed, making you think he was about to tell you that he hated it. But instead he said, “That’s the most American thing I’ve ever tasted.” 

The highest of compliments coming from him. Your smile stretched from ear to ear. “I’m so glad you like it!” you squealed before taking some of the treat for yourself. 

Once the paper plate was empty aside from grease and powdered sugar, you begged him to play some carnival games with you. Starting with something you could play together, you ‘beat’ him at the water gun race, although you knew he let you win. After that, you insisted that he play something where he could win you a prize, but that it had to be a game where his powers wouldn’t give him an unfair advantage. It took a few minutes to wear him down, but you finally got him to agree to the ring toss simply because he figured it would be a breeze. 

Not five minutes passed before he discovered that it was not a breeze and got so frustrated that he lasered through the bottles in the middle of the booth. 

“Stupid fucking game,” he muttered as you dragged him away and over to a bench before he did something even more brash. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” you comforted him, taking his hand. “I shouldn’t have made you play a rigged game. It was stupid.”

When he turned his head to look at you, his face was much softer than you expected it to be. “No, I’m not mad at you,” he reassured you. “I just…” he sighed and looked down at the ground avoidantly. “I wanted to win you that prize.”

You giggled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Oh, John, you don’t have to win me any prizes. I’m not a little girl, I don’t need any stuffies,” you said reassuringly before glancing at the Vought photographers a semi-respectable distance away. “Hey, do you think they’d follow us onto the ferris wheel?”

It was like you had read his mind about wanting to get away from them. “They better not,” he growled. 

You jumped up and began leading him towards the ferris wheel, both of you glancing back at the photographers as you walked quickly. “You’ve never done anything like this, have you?” you asked as he helped you up into the gondola. 

“What gave it away?” he tried to joke, but you could tell it was forced. 

“You look like a fish out of water at Voughtland. Plus you didn’t know what a funnel cake was,” you answered as you sat on the bench. When he sat across from you rather than next to you, you moved to sit next to him, grabbing his arm. “I don’t bite, you know,” you pointed out playfully. 

He kind of hoped you did. Snickering, he replied, “I’m sure you don’t. I just wanted to look at you.”

A sudden rush of heat flooded your face as the wheel began to move, taking you right up to the top since there were no other passengers. “Oh… well, you can look at me this way. Like you are right now.”

He shifted a little so that his body was facing yours in the seat. “You’re right…” A moment of comfortable silence passed between you before he said, “Looks like you were right about them following us, too.”

Smiling, you teased, “I’m right about a lot of things.”

It got a chuckle out of him. “Thank you,” he murmured before leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. 

And ohmygod his lips felt like they were made for kissing you. You sighed into the kiss, holding it for as long as you could before the need to breathe kicked in. You pulled away, taking a deep breath in, then whispering, “I like kissing you…”

Had anyone ever told him that before? He immediately felt compelled to give you another.

“Your lips are so soft…” you murmured.

Yours are too, he thought before leaning in again.

“You give me butterflies…” you said next.

I didn’t know what that meant until I met you, he refrained from admitting, opting instead to kiss you again.

“You make me feel safe…” You kept whispering sweet nothings in exchange for more kisses until the ride brought you back down to get off. 

You had said all the right things, but had you even realized you were doing it? 

He seemed a little bit more loose after that, just the slightest bit more carefree, becoming less bothered by the Vought paparazzi following you around. You saw it as a victory. 

Homelander didn’t. Homelander was suspicious as ever, thinking it had to be impossible that Vought had managed to find him a woman so perfect. 

That night after he got back to the tower at the end of your date, he went to Noir again to rant about it. “She’s always saying the right things, how is she doing that?!”

All Noir could do was shrug.

“Maybe she’s not real. Maybe she’s a robot. Maybe she’s just programmed to be like that.”

That earned a hand on the hip and a tilt of the head from the black-suited supe. 

Homelander scoffed. “Is it really that far-fetched?”

Then Noir crossed his arms over his chest and adjusted his posture.

“Well, do you have any better theories?” 

Finally, the masked supe picked up his marker and legal pad. ShE LikEs YoU?

“Don’t be ridiculous. Nobody likes the real me,” he grumbled. Not when they saw the deepest darkest parts of him. 

There was a soft thud when Noir’s hand landed on his heart, clearly having taken offense to the statement. 

“No, you’re right. Sorry. But that’s different.”

Homelander could see Irving raising a brow at him underneath the mask, as if to ask, why does it have to be?

“Well, for one, you’re not trying to sleep with me.”

Then Irving rolled his eyes, as if to retort, that’s not relevant.

“Of course it’s relevant! No woman has ever wanted me for any reason other than to manipulate me so that she can use me.” Which was exactly why he was so afraid of falling for her. 

Letting out a huff, Noir picked his marker back up, scribbling something on the page he just wrote on before flipping the pad over to write on the back of another page. NOt YEt, he showed his friend the page before flipping the pad back to the other side that now said, ShE LikEs YoU, without the question mark. 

*Next Chapter*

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes @madhatter2727 @thexhostess @writethelifeyouwant

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

I've Got You

Title: I’ve Got You

Ship: Astarion / GN!Durge!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~900

Tags: angst, fluff, implied smut, being tied up, mentions of torture, murder, sleep deprivation, blood drinking/feeding, unspoken feelings

AO3 Link

Summary: After Sceleritas Fel tells you that you must kill the one you love the most in order to embrace your father’s gift, you wake Astarion up to warn him and ask him to watch over you for the night.

A/N: Yep, my D&D obsession has, of course, resulted in an Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 obsession. No, I do not play video games, but I do play D&D.

***Check out my Masterlist! Wanna join my Taglist? Follow me & make sure you are listed as 18+ ***

Exhausted. That was how you felt after being tied up all night to keep yourself from killing Astarion. It wasn’t something you’d be able to sustain, that was for sure. Even killing the bitch that tortured you in the mind flayer colony for Orin wasn’t satisfying enough to subdue the Urges, like you had hoped. 

At least Astarion was kind enough to cuddle up to you once he cut your binds. “Astarion, I won’t be of any use in the coming battles if I have to stay up like this every night. Maybe… maybe I should have just killed the sweet little cleric. It’s like the first night you tried to feed on me— you weren’t strong enough,” you whined as you pulled yourself closer to him.

“This will pass. I’ll find another way to get you your fix. I said I’ve got you, and I meant it. I’ll stay here and keep watch over you while you rest up and the others head into the city to investigate leads,” he replied with determination.

Sceleritas was right. You do love him. But you still can’t tell him. You know he wouldn’t say it back, even if it was true. Astarion had never loved anyone in his entire existence, and it was going to take a lot more than just you telling him how you felt in order for him to do the same. No, even if Astarion loves you, he’d never admit it while Cazador still draws breath. 

“Thank you, darling,” you mumbled softly. “For saving me from myself. It means the world.”

“Well…” he hesitated, deciding not to say his original thought. “We make each other better. I’m sure you’ll return the favor.”

“Of course. We’ll be in the Lower City soon, and then the first thing we do— before Orin, Gortash, anything— is confront Cazador,” you reassured him. “I just hope I won’t be too exhausted to be there to fight with you.”

“Well, I’m not going without you, so we’ll just have to feed your bloodthirst until you’re alert for the trip,” he insisted, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“If killing Kressa didn't feed the Urge, I don't know what will…” you said hopelessly, sitting up as you did. 

“If you must kill someone in the party, might I suggest Gale? I’ve never met anyone more annoying.” He leaned up on his elbows, looking at you with a mischievous smirk. 

You scoffed. “I’m not killing anyone that doesn’t want to kill me! Promise me you’ll make sure,” you insisted. “No, swear it.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, as if you were taking away all his fun. “On my life, I will do everything I can to make sure you only kill the people who want to kill us. Although I do have one request of you in return.” 

“Oh? What would you ask?”

“Can we please sleep on an actual fucking bed when we get to Baldur’s Gate? I’ll even pay for the room if I have to, that’s how desperate I am to stop sleeping in the dirt,” he whined, rolling onto his side facing you, his head propped up on his hand.

Chuckling, you replied, “Aw, you are adorable when you beg… I suppose it will be easier to tie me to, and since you asked so nicely…”

You swear he growled. “Can I bite you now?” he asked politely. “I haven’t had a taste since before Moonrise…” he added, as if it would help his cause.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

“Anything you want,” he whispered before leaning over and pulling your face to his, pressing his lips against yours in a firm yet gentle kiss. 

“Astarion, I need to tell you something,” you blurted when you pulled away for breath. 

“What is it, my sweet?”

“I know that in the past, all of your relationships have been transactional. A means to an end. I can see now that our first night together was only spent because you felt like you owed me something for letting you feed on me. But I’ve come to care for you quite a lot, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you owe me your body. Not anymore. You’re your own person, Astarion. You should have sex because you want to, not because you feel like you owe anything to anyone.”

By the end of your speech, you noticed water droplets pooling at the corners of Astarion’s eyes, despite his best efforts to will them away. “I’ve come to care for you quite a lot as well,” he admitted with a strained voice. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone even half as much as I care for you. And thank you. Hearing that from you means…well, it means quite a great deal to me…”

It was taking all your energy to hold yourself back from telling him you loved him. Not yet. After Cazador. “Well, good,” were the only words you could muster up instead. “Like you said, we make each other better.”

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

I've Got You

Title: I’ve Got You

Ship: Astarion / GN!Durge!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~900

Tags: angst, fluff, implied smut, being tied up, mentions of torture, murder, sleep deprivation, blood drinking/feeding, unspoken feelings

AO3 Link

Summary: After Sceleritas Fel tells you that you must kill the one you love the most in order to embrace your father’s gift, you wake Astarion up to warn him and ask him to watch over you for the night.

A/N: Yep, my D&D obsession has, of course, resulted in an Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 obsession. No, I do not play video games, but I do play D&D.

***Check out my Masterlist! Wanna join my Taglist? Follow me & make sure you are listed as 18+ ***

Exhausted. That was how you felt after being tied up all night to keep yourself from killing Astarion. It wasn’t something you’d be able to sustain, that was for sure. Even killing the bitch that tortured you in the mind flayer colony for Orin wasn’t satisfying enough to subdue the Urges, like you had hoped. 

At least Astarion was kind enough to cuddle up to you once he cut your binds. “Astarion, I won’t be of any use in the coming battles if I have to stay up like this every night. Maybe… maybe I should have just killed the sweet little cleric. It’s like the first night you tried to feed on me— you weren’t strong enough,” you whined as you pulled yourself closer to him.

“This will pass. I’ll find another way to get you your fix. I said I’ve got you, and I meant it. I’ll stay here and keep watch over you while you rest up and the others head into the city to investigate leads,” he replied with determination.

Sceleritas was right. You do love him. But you still can’t tell him. You know he wouldn’t say it back, even if it was true. Astarion had never loved anyone in his entire existence, and it was going to take a lot more than just you telling him how you felt in order for him to do the same. No, even if Astarion loves you, he’d never admit it while Cazador still draws breath. 

“Thank you, darling,” you mumbled softly. “For saving me from myself. It means the world.”

“Well…” he hesitated, deciding not to say his original thought. “We make each other better. I’m sure you’ll return the favor.”

“Of course. We’ll be in the Lower City soon, and then the first thing we do— before Orin, Gortash, anything— is confront Cazador,” you reassured him. “I just hope I won’t be too exhausted to be there to fight with you.”

“Well, I’m not going without you, so we’ll just have to feed your bloodthirst until you’re alert for the trip,” he insisted, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“If killing Kressa didn't feed the Urge, I don't know what will…” you said hopelessly, sitting up as you did. 

“If you must kill someone in the party, might I suggest Gale? I’ve never met anyone more annoying.” He leaned up on his elbows, looking at you with a mischievous smirk. 

You scoffed. “I’m not killing anyone that doesn’t want to kill me! Promise me you’ll make sure,” you insisted. “No, swear it.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, as if you were taking away all his fun. “On my life, I will do everything I can to make sure you only kill the people who want to kill us. Although I do have one request of you in return.” 

“Oh? What would you ask?”

“Can we please sleep on an actual fucking bed when we get to Baldur’s Gate? I’ll even pay for the room if I have to, that’s how desperate I am to stop sleeping in the dirt,” he whined, rolling onto his side facing you, his head propped up on his hand.

Chuckling, you replied, “Aw, you are adorable when you beg… I suppose it will be easier to tie me to, and since you asked so nicely…”

You swear he growled. “Can I bite you now?” he asked politely. “I haven’t had a taste since before Moonrise…” he added, as if it would help his cause.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

“Anything you want,” he whispered before leaning over and pulling your face to his, pressing his lips against yours in a firm yet gentle kiss. 

“Astarion, I need to tell you something,” you blurted when you pulled away for breath. 

“What is it, my sweet?”

“I know that in the past, all of your relationships have been transactional. A means to an end. I can see now that our first night together was only spent because you felt like you owed me something for letting you feed on me. But I’ve come to care for you quite a lot, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you owe me your body. Not anymore. You’re your own person, Astarion. You should have sex because you want to, not because you feel like you owe anything to anyone.”

By the end of your speech, you noticed water droplets pooling at the corners of Astarion’s eyes, despite his best efforts to will them away. “I’ve come to care for you quite a lot as well,” he admitted with a strained voice. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone even half as much as I care for you. And thank you. Hearing that from you means…well, it means quite a great deal to me…”

It was taking all your energy to hold yourself back from telling him you loved him. Not yet. After Cazador. “Well, good,” were the only words you could muster up instead. “Like you said, we make each other better.”

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

I've Got You

Title: I’ve Got You

Ship: Astarion / GN!Durge!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~900

Tags: angst, fluff, implied smut, being tied up, mentions of torture, murder, sleep deprivation, blood drinking/feeding, unspoken feelings

AO3 Link

Summary: After Sceleritas Fel tells you that you must kill the one you love the most in order to embrace your father’s gift, you wake Astarion up to warn him and ask him to watch over you for the night.

A/N: Yep, my D&D obsession has, of course, resulted in an Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 obsession. No, I do not play video games, but I do play D&D.

***Check out my Masterlist! Wanna join my Taglist? Follow me & make sure you are listed as 18+ ***

Exhausted. That was how you felt after being tied up all night to keep yourself from killing Astarion. It wasn’t something you’d be able to sustain, that was for sure. Even killing the bitch that tortured you in the mind flayer colony for Orin wasn’t satisfying enough to subdue the Urges, like you had hoped. 

At least Astarion was kind enough to cuddle up to you once he cut your binds. “Astarion, I won’t be of any use in the coming battles if I have to stay up like this every night. Maybe… maybe I should have just killed the sweet little cleric. It’s like the first night you tried to feed on me— you weren’t strong enough,” you whined as you pulled yourself closer to him.

“This will pass. I’ll find another way to get you your fix. I said I’ve got you, and I meant it. I’ll stay here and keep watch over you while you rest up and the others head into the city to investigate leads,” he replied with determination.

Sceleritas was right. You do love him. But you still can’t tell him. You know he wouldn’t say it back, even if it was true. Astarion had never loved anyone in his entire existence, and it was going to take a lot more than just you telling him how you felt in order for him to do the same. No, even if Astarion loves you, he’d never admit it while Cazador still draws breath. 

“Thank you, darling,” you mumbled softly. “For saving me from myself. It means the world.”

“Well…” he hesitated, deciding not to say his original thought. “We make each other better. I’m sure you’ll return the favor.”

“Of course. We’ll be in the Lower City soon, and then the first thing we do— before Orin, Gortash, anything— is confront Cazador,” you reassured him. “I just hope I won’t be too exhausted to be there to fight with you.”

“Well, I’m not going without you, so we’ll just have to feed your bloodthirst until you’re alert for the trip,” he insisted, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“If killing Kressa didn't feed the Urge, I don't know what will…” you said hopelessly, sitting up as you did. 

“If you must kill someone in the party, might I suggest Gale? I’ve never met anyone more annoying.” He leaned up on his elbows, looking at you with a mischievous smirk. 

You scoffed. “I’m not killing anyone that doesn’t want to kill me! Promise me you’ll make sure,” you insisted. “No, swear it.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, as if you were taking away all his fun. “On my life, I will do everything I can to make sure you only kill the people who want to kill us. Although I do have one request of you in return.” 

“Oh? What would you ask?”

“Can we please sleep on an actual fucking bed when we get to Baldur’s Gate? I’ll even pay for the room if I have to, that’s how desperate I am to stop sleeping in the dirt,” he whined, rolling onto his side facing you, his head propped up on his hand.

Chuckling, you replied, “Aw, you are adorable when you beg… I suppose it will be easier to tie me to, and since you asked so nicely…”

You swear he growled. “Can I bite you now?” he asked politely. “I haven’t had a taste since before Moonrise…” he added, as if it would help his cause.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

“Anything you want,” he whispered before leaning over and pulling your face to his, pressing his lips against yours in a firm yet gentle kiss. 

“Astarion, I need to tell you something,” you blurted when you pulled away for breath. 

“What is it, my sweet?”

“I know that in the past, all of your relationships have been transactional. A means to an end. I can see now that our first night together was only spent because you felt like you owed me something for letting you feed on me. But I’ve come to care for you quite a lot, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you owe me your body. Not anymore. You’re your own person, Astarion. You should have sex because you want to, not because you feel like you owe anything to anyone.”

By the end of your speech, you noticed water droplets pooling at the corners of Astarion’s eyes, despite his best efforts to will them away. “I’ve come to care for you quite a lot as well,” he admitted with a strained voice. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone even half as much as I care for you. And thank you. Hearing that from you means…well, it means quite a great deal to me…”

It was taking all your energy to hold yourself back from telling him you loved him. Not yet. After Cazador. “Well, good,” were the only words you could muster up instead. “Like you said, we make each other better.”

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

I've Got You

Title: I’ve Got You

Ship: Astarion / GN!Durge!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~900

Tags: angst, fluff, implied smut, being tied up, mentions of torture, murder, sleep deprivation, blood drinking/feeding, unspoken feelings

AO3 Link

Summary: After Sceleritas Fel tells you that you must kill the one you love the most in order to embrace your father’s gift, you wake Astarion up to warn him and ask him to watch over you for the night.

A/N: Yep, my D&D obsession has, of course, resulted in an Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 obsession. No, I do not play video games, but I do play D&D.

***Check out my Masterlist! Wanna join my Taglist? Follow me & make sure you are listed as 18+ ***

Exhausted. That was how you felt after being tied up all night to keep yourself from killing Astarion. It wasn’t something you’d be able to sustain, that was for sure. Even killing the bitch that tortured you in the mind flayer colony for Orin wasn’t satisfying enough to subdue the Urges, like you had hoped. 

At least Astarion was kind enough to cuddle up to you once he cut your binds. “Astarion, I won’t be of any use in the coming battles if I have to stay up like this every night. Maybe… maybe I should have just killed the sweet little cleric. It’s like the first night you tried to feed on me— you weren’t strong enough,” you whined as you pulled yourself closer to him.

“This will pass. I’ll find another way to get you your fix. I said I’ve got you, and I meant it. I’ll stay here and keep watch over you while you rest up and the others head into the city to investigate leads,” he replied with determination.

Sceleritas was right. You do love him. But you still can’t tell him. You know he wouldn’t say it back, even if it was true. Astarion had never loved anyone in his entire existence, and it was going to take a lot more than just you telling him how you felt in order for him to do the same. No, even if Astarion loves you, he’d never admit it while Cazador still draws breath. 

“Thank you, darling,” you mumbled softly. “For saving me from myself. It means the world.”

“Well…” he hesitated, deciding not to say his original thought. “We make each other better. I’m sure you’ll return the favor.”

“Of course. We’ll be in the Lower City soon, and then the first thing we do— before Orin, Gortash, anything— is confront Cazador,” you reassured him. “I just hope I won’t be too exhausted to be there to fight with you.”

“Well, I’m not going without you, so we’ll just have to feed your bloodthirst until you’re alert for the trip,” he insisted, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“If killing Kressa didn't feed the Urge, I don't know what will…” you said hopelessly, sitting up as you did. 

“If you must kill someone in the party, might I suggest Gale? I’ve never met anyone more annoying.” He leaned up on his elbows, looking at you with a mischievous smirk. 

You scoffed. “I’m not killing anyone that doesn’t want to kill me! Promise me you’ll make sure,” you insisted. “No, swear it.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, as if you were taking away all his fun. “On my life, I will do everything I can to make sure you only kill the people who want to kill us. Although I do have one request of you in return.” 

“Oh? What would you ask?”

“Can we please sleep on an actual fucking bed when we get to Baldur’s Gate? I’ll even pay for the room if I have to, that’s how desperate I am to stop sleeping in the dirt,” he whined, rolling onto his side facing you, his head propped up on his hand.

Chuckling, you replied, “Aw, you are adorable when you beg… I suppose it will be easier to tie me to, and since you asked so nicely…”

You swear he growled. “Can I bite you now?” he asked politely. “I haven’t had a taste since before Moonrise…” he added, as if it would help his cause.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

“Anything you want,” he whispered before leaning over and pulling your face to his, pressing his lips against yours in a firm yet gentle kiss. 

“Astarion, I need to tell you something,” you blurted when you pulled away for breath. 

“What is it, my sweet?”

“I know that in the past, all of your relationships have been transactional. A means to an end. I can see now that our first night together was only spent because you felt like you owed me something for letting you feed on me. But I’ve come to care for you quite a lot, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you owe me your body. Not anymore. You’re your own person, Astarion. You should have sex because you want to, not because you feel like you owe anything to anyone.”

By the end of your speech, you noticed water droplets pooling at the corners of Astarion’s eyes, despite his best efforts to will them away. “I’ve come to care for you quite a lot as well,” he admitted with a strained voice. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone even half as much as I care for you. And thank you. Hearing that from you means…well, it means quite a great deal to me…”

It was taking all your energy to hold yourself back from telling him you loved him. Not yet. After Cazador. “Well, good,” were the only words you could muster up instead. “Like you said, we make each other better.”

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***

[fictional-affairs]

I've Got You

Title: I’ve Got You

Ship: Astarion / GN!Durge!Reader

Rating: Mature (18+)

Word Count: ~900

Tags: angst, fluff, implied smut, being tied up, mentions of torture, murder, sleep deprivation, blood drinking/feeding, unspoken feelings

AO3 Link

Summary: After Sceleritas Fel tells you that you must kill the one you love the most in order to embrace your father’s gift, you wake Astarion up to warn him and ask him to watch over you for the night.

A/N: Yep, my D&D obsession has, of course, resulted in an Astarion from Baldur's Gate 3 obsession. No, I do not play video games, but I do play D&D.

***Check out my Masterlist! Wanna join my Taglist? Follow me & make sure you are listed as 18+ ***

Exhausted. That was how you felt after being tied up all night to keep yourself from killing Astarion. It wasn’t something you’d be able to sustain, that was for sure. Even killing the bitch that tortured you in the mind flayer colony for Orin wasn’t satisfying enough to subdue the Urges, like you had hoped. 

At least Astarion was kind enough to cuddle up to you once he cut your binds. “Astarion, I won’t be of any use in the coming battles if I have to stay up like this every night. Maybe… maybe I should have just killed the sweet little cleric. It’s like the first night you tried to feed on me— you weren’t strong enough,” you whined as you pulled yourself closer to him.

“This will pass. I’ll find another way to get you your fix. I said I’ve got you, and I meant it. I’ll stay here and keep watch over you while you rest up and the others head into the city to investigate leads,” he replied with determination.

Sceleritas was right. You do love him. But you still can’t tell him. You know he wouldn’t say it back, even if it was true. Astarion had never loved anyone in his entire existence, and it was going to take a lot more than just you telling him how you felt in order for him to do the same. No, even if Astarion loves you, he’d never admit it while Cazador still draws breath. 

“Thank you, darling,” you mumbled softly. “For saving me from myself. It means the world.”

“Well…” he hesitated, deciding not to say his original thought. “We make each other better. I’m sure you’ll return the favor.”

“Of course. We’ll be in the Lower City soon, and then the first thing we do— before Orin, Gortash, anything— is confront Cazador,” you reassured him. “I just hope I won’t be too exhausted to be there to fight with you.”

“Well, I’m not going without you, so we’ll just have to feed your bloodthirst until you’re alert for the trip,” he insisted, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“If killing Kressa didn't feed the Urge, I don't know what will…” you said hopelessly, sitting up as you did. 

“If you must kill someone in the party, might I suggest Gale? I’ve never met anyone more annoying.” He leaned up on his elbows, looking at you with a mischievous smirk. 

You scoffed. “I’m not killing anyone that doesn’t want to kill me! Promise me you’ll make sure,” you insisted. “No, swear it.”

He rolled his eyes and let out a heavy sigh, as if you were taking away all his fun. “On my life, I will do everything I can to make sure you only kill the people who want to kill us. Although I do have one request of you in return.” 

“Oh? What would you ask?”

“Can we please sleep on an actual fucking bed when we get to Baldur’s Gate? I’ll even pay for the room if I have to, that’s how desperate I am to stop sleeping in the dirt,” he whined, rolling onto his side facing you, his head propped up on his hand.

Chuckling, you replied, “Aw, you are adorable when you beg… I suppose it will be easier to tie me to, and since you asked so nicely…”

You swear he growled. “Can I bite you now?” he asked politely. “I haven’t had a taste since before Moonrise…” he added, as if it would help his cause.

“Can I have a kiss first?”

“Anything you want,” he whispered before leaning over and pulling your face to his, pressing his lips against yours in a firm yet gentle kiss. 

“Astarion, I need to tell you something,” you blurted when you pulled away for breath. 

“What is it, my sweet?”

“I know that in the past, all of your relationships have been transactional. A means to an end. I can see now that our first night together was only spent because you felt like you owed me something for letting you feed on me. But I’ve come to care for you quite a lot, and I don’t ever want you to feel like you owe me your body. Not anymore. You’re your own person, Astarion. You should have sex because you want to, not because you feel like you owe anything to anyone.”

By the end of your speech, you noticed water droplets pooling at the corners of Astarion’s eyes, despite his best efforts to will them away. “I’ve come to care for you quite a lot as well,” he admitted with a strained voice. “In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever cared for anyone even half as much as I care for you. And thank you. Hearing that from you means…well, it means quite a great deal to me…”

It was taking all your energy to hold yourself back from telling him you loved him. Not yet. After Cazador. “Well, good,” were the only words you could muster up instead. “Like you said, we make each other better.”

Taglist: @writercole @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @buckys-zomdoll @miraclesoflove @waynes-multiverse @pisces-cutie​ @severewobblerlightdragon​ @mugi-chwan95​ @caplanbuckybarnes

***Enjoying my works? Please support my Ko-Fi!***