Phebth

Pherb - They/Them - 19 - I like red

[phebth]

★ 𝕳𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝖒𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖘~ ★

𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞... please understand that I am very busy atm and that I cannot regularly post. Inspiration is also lacking… So i wish you can be patient with me! T^T

▸there is a lot of profanity on my page so if that triggers you please don’t read >,>

requesting rules+masterlist

[jinkiezzsstuff]

hi! could you write something for homelander where reader (with whom he's in a relationship) is very affectionate, like he doesn't even need to manipulate or threaten her into loving him because she already does even though she's knows he's not the perfect hero he pretends to be?

Absolutely I love Homelander! Antony Starr just portrays him so well, there’s not enough fics of him to get my fill :) thank you for the request! I really appreciate it and I hope this was what you expected I actually struggled a bit with trying to write affection with Homelander that didn’t sound too OOC. LMK whatchya think if I didn’t meet the mark feel free to request again! :D

Warnings: nothing too graphic, non-sexual bath sharing, blood mentions, takes place after Homelander kills the scientist who raised him, cursing and immoral reader. Mention breifly of Homelander smelling arousal it’s a one off thing, use of homelanders real name; John.

word count: 1,112

Homelander, despite his sociopathy, craved affection, genuine adoration and genuine love. Of course he felt it was never really real. From Madeline Stillwell, to Queen Maeve to Stormfront. Everyone was fake.

None of them really gave a fuck about him, and they were scared of him, which he did like, but only when he wanted them to be scared, not as some consistent underlying feeling.

Anyone who got to know Homelander personally, fucking hated him, or was scared of him. He knew it, of course he did. He felt it in the air, he heard their racing hearts and the blood rushing through their veins. They couldn’t hide it if they tried.

Then there was you. To Homelander, you were more of a gimmick supe. nothing worth The Seven, but Sister sage insisted you were part of the plan, along with Firecracker, so Homelander bent his knee.

When you were first introduced, he didn’t expect much, and that expectation (or lack thereof) continued until they day they caught the suspected mole. Some spider freak Homelander couldn’t care to remember the name of.

That day you stood alongside him as he ripped the supe clean in half, watching as blood exploded across Homelander and the floor. Any other person, he would’ve heard the racing heart beat, or the gulping noise of nervousness. But you? You just grimaced at the sight, a soft ‘yuck’ coming from you shortly after.

From then on he’d noticed you more, and it seemed you noticed him too, always flirting with him, touching his arm, bringing him snacks, and milk. It was obvious to everyone, your not so subtle blooming affection toward him.

When he was angry, you weren’t fearful or cowering, you let him get angry, let him rant and rave. He felt idiotic for the amount of times he found himself in your room just to lay his head on your lap and complain.

He took notice of how you never tried to kiss his ass out of fear, only fussing over him out of genuine care. He couldn’t fully believe it, and his doubt caused him to have mood swings where he would be cruel to you. Like he was sick of anticipating when you’d finally hate him and so he tried to force it with his behaviour.

It didn’t ever come though, you were patient, and you frustratingly gave him his time to brood and be angry. It wasn’t until he saw some security guard flirting with you that he realized he needed you all to himself, that no other person would care for him the way you did. With the security guy dead, he finally asked you to be his partner, and made you official to the public as fast as possible, wanting to stake his claim for you to everyone.

Once Homelander started to realize that he heard your heart flutter around him, that he could see the dilation in your eyes when you looked at him, or smell the arousal when you were worked up over him, he knew that there wasn’t any questioning whether or not your feelings were true.

John had just killed every scientist who’d tortured him growing up, his body still shaking with adrenaline, anger, and self hatred. The realization that he’d been raised like a dog to be obedient, made him so angry, he could barely contain it.

He touched down on the Vought towers covered in blood he dragged his feet into your shared bedroom, where you were already up making your way to the door when you heard it open.

“Are you okay?” You whispered upon seeing him, opening your arms to him despite his body being covered in bloody. Homelander slumped into you without hesitation, his gloved fingers digging into your flesh. “I’m nothing but a product.” He whispered with a wavering tone, though clear anger cracked through his pain. “What happened baby?” You cooed brows pinched together as your fingers threaded through his crunchy blood soaked hair.

He shook his head pulling back a bit. “They’re dead.. no sense in talking about it.” He huffed looking into your eyes, his expression tired or rather, drained. “You’re the only one who sees me like this..” He muttered making you smile, his gloved hand raising to run his thumb across the apples of your cheek.

“Wanna bathe?” You offered in an affectionate tone, making his face twitch with differing emotions. One of those feeling was cringe; unused to being so genuinely cared for, and the others being exhaustion and gratitude. “Yes.” Homelander grumbled, allowing you to guide him to the bathroom like he was just some lil’ guy and not a murderous superhuman.

“You look so handsome covered in blood.” You hummed sliding off his cape from the clasps, before staring to undo the back of his suit. Homelander scoffed stood obediently in front of you as you undressed him. Sometimes it was hard to believe you meant what you said, on days like these all he wanted was to believe you.

“You can talk to me you know... I won’t ever judge you for what happened.” You assured softly, undressing your own body as you watched him slump into the warm water. Once you’d settled into his lap, his arms around your waist, bodies resting in the warm luxury’s tub, he finally spoke again.

“I was raised in a lab, tortured.” Homelander spoke, his voice low, your eyes briefly meeting his as you got a rag, gently washing the blood from his face. “I killed them, it doesn’t feel satisfying enough…” He trailed soaking in the loving look you had in your eyes as you washed him up. “I’m glad you killed them.”

Homelanders face twitched his expression showing confusion for a split second. “You’re… glad?” Homelander murmured as your lips met his nose. “Yeah, fuck those asshole, supe or not you were a little boy being abused and treated like a lab rat.” You hummed out setting aside the wash rag to cup his face, he looked sad, like a kicked puppy. “You’re just… okay with how I kill?” Homelander scoffed, his hands on your hips tugging you closer as he leaned back.

You nodded, clinging to him. “I love you John,” You shrugged, moving your hands up to attempt to get some of the crusty blood off. “There’s nothing you can do that will stop that, even if I get angry, grossed out or off put for a bit, that won’t outweigh how I love ya.”

Homelander felt for the first time that maybe he’d finally found someone who did love him. Originally Stormfront felt like she was Homelanders match, but sadly, all she cared about was her Nazi bullshit. “I love you too.” He grumbled lowly his fingers coming up to pinch your cheeks.

“And if you leave me, I will kill you.” His voice was sharp and low like a whisper, and despite that you smiled. “Yeah yeah, if I left you I’d kill me too.” Then your lips met his, tasting him eagerly before pulling back with a wide grin. No matter what he tried you were always so genuinely in love with him, and never afraid.

[jinkiezzsstuff]

could you please write homelander x reader where reader is homelander’s personal assistant or something, when he notices her genuinely caring for him he starts pursuing her romantically but she’s completely oblivious to his flirting? thank you :)

Absolutely I’m a sucker for the personal assistant shtick and being oblivious cause same :D also sorry this took longer than I wanted! Things got busy but I hoped you like it thank you for requesting!

warnings/info: fluff, reader isn’t morally sound, oblivious and a bit socially inept- dw lads me too, reader forgives homelanders killing and makes excuses for him, personal assistant trope, anything else? Idk lmk! Not proofread

word count: 2,132

The boys Masterlist

“Don’t worry we’re all weird behind closed doors,” You assured Homelander with a kind smile, watching your employer pace in front of you. You were sitting alone with him in his condo, unsure of how to behave. This was supposed to be an interview and formal meeting, and it felt not at all like one, it was too personal, too intense.

Even with the sour look he was giving you, you remained unbothered, after all his anger didn’t truly affect you, and you weren’t new to rude, angry, or snarky people like him. Putting up with his standoffish attitude was second nature to you. “Yeah well, my weird isn’t like anybody else’s weird. I’m the Homelander.” He emphasized, his brows raising as he gave you a tight lipped smile.

“Right… well perhaps in time you can come to tell me, but I’m fairly flexible.” You assured softly, unsure if he was so rigid from embarrassment, or dislike for you. “Everyday when you get into work I want you by my side, I don’t want you near any other of the Seven. Next, you’re the only one from now on touching me, fucking tired of all the makeup and hair people putting their filthy hands on me, your job now.” He pointed his gloved finger at you, pacing slowly in front of you.

Homelander huffed out a breath slowly stopping abruptly, his hands folded behind his back and beneath his cape. “I don’t need anymore workers planning schedules, cooking meals, or cleaning my room. I have enough of those.” You raised your brows at his softened tone, nodding slowly as you mulled over what he was saying. “Well what should I do?” You asked carefully, your hands folded in your lap as you watched him watch you.

“I need someone who can handle personal tasks… helping me with a bath for example. Eating with me, stuff like that,” Homelander mumbled reluctantly, crossing his arms, making him look petulant. Despite the desire to question him on why he needed these things from a paid employee, you nodded in agreement, quickly making up in your mind that I really wasn’t that bad of an ask. Especially considering you were working with one of the most famous men globally.

“Yeah okay, that sounds good. So hair, makeup, eating with you and drawing baths?” You summarized with a lifted brow, watching as he slowly nodded his head as you listed each one off. “And anything else that.. I may need from you..” Homelander trailed, waving his hand in circles as if it’d help him think of what else he wanted to say. “Right, anyway, you’re hired, up an’ at-em, eh?” He clapped smiling brightly, but it was clearly fake.

“Ashley wants me down at the news station for an interview, you’ll be coming with me.” You nodded eagerly standing at the ready while he began his walk through the living area, leading you both out.

Homelander wasn’t expecting you to do so well, having you by his side was seamless. Every morning you came in with a drink for him, something with way more milk than necessary, you brought these cute things to him you found, which despite himself he liked.

There was something refreshing about you bringing him an extra desert you made, or an oddly shaped rock you found while walking. It was little instances like those that showed him whenever you weren’t with him, you still thought of him.

You’d once gotten swarmed by reporters after Homelander was caught lasering someone to death. They surrounded you, overwhelmed you shouting questions and crude assumptions. And yet you kept your cool all throughout.

The way you excused him, was so you, empathetic; seeing the justification in wrongs that you probably shouldn’t have. Homelander felt his heart skip rewatching the scene on the news.

‘We have to understand he’s not like you and I,’ Your voice said nervously through the flat screen; a breath of fresh air, to Homelander the acknowledgment of the inherently different beings humans and supes were. ‘You don’t have to concern yourself with laser powers or super strength whenever you’re angry. Homelander does, and despite the sad civilian loss I don’t think he’s a monster for something he can’t always control.’

The amount of pride he felt with you defence of him, and you didn’t even have to be told or threatened. You simply did. And when he asked why the following day, you gave him a simple answer with the sweetest smile he was sure he’d ever seen. You cared for him.

Despite himself, he softened up to you. And your kindness didn’t end. You spoke to him so affectionately, you touched up his TV make up, you fixed his hair with gentle touches, and you didn’t mind sitting with him in the bathroom as he bathed. The lonesomeness he didn’t know he felt started to lessen with you near.

And yourself? You enjoyed every second with Homelander. You found yourself lucky enough to join him in meetings were he always had a seat reserved for you at his side. You thought he was naturally hilarious, and you were always smiling at him at laughing at his little jokes; even other members wouldn’t.

Homelander even spent a night with you listening to you speak about sappy things like beauty of the world, and when you professed your jealousy over his ability to take flight, he swiftly jumped in, offering to take you above the clouds and around the city.

Of course you did, though it took a significant amount of assurance from him before you finally held onto his body, allowing him to take you through the sky. Unlike others he flew, he was slow; careful. He held you against his body like you were the most precious thing he’d seen, he couldn’t help how breathtaking he found you in the night sky with him, under the stars.

He flew you home that night, lingering by you longer than he should and when he finally left, he already made up his mind to make you his.

The next day you came in he was freshly dosed with cologne, and giving you a smile no one else but you saw, and the look you gave him back was the best part of his day.

“You smell good,” You complimented with a smile, meeting Homelander at his condo like you did every morning. “Thank, wore it for you yknow.” Homelander slyly winked, his hand finding the small of your back, guiding you forward. “Oh, that’s sweet, but I think you smelt okay before… if you were worried about smelling bad that is. Can you even sweat?” You rambled allowing him to guide you to the living room.

Homelander was amused by your chatter, anyone else would’ve gotten the boot, but he found your voice entirely alluring. “Under certain circumstances I can sweat, but not due to physical exertion.” He commented, which sounded a bit like bragging, not that you cared. “Cool, I wish I didn’t sweat, grey tops would be so much easier to wear.” You commented half heartedly looking over at him as he sat you down.

“Ah,” He waved sitting beside you. “You probably look great all sweaty.” Homelander grinned, tossing his arm around the back of the couch. You scoffed, shaking your head with a smile. “Definitely not, but thank you.” You hum oblivious to his body language and flirtatious tone. “Yknow you could live in the tower.” Homelander casually drawled his voice low.

“Oh I couldn’t ask that of you,” You huffed brows lifting as you rubbed your neck. “Unless you wanted me to?” You blinked curiously, making eye contact with Homelanders heavy lidded blue eyes. “I want you around all the time,” He chuckled, his eyes flickering down to your lips. “Like a spouse.” He grinned laughing charmingly, or more like, laughing to cover up how flustered he felt.

You smiled laughing brightly, unbothered by the remark. “Really, you’re the type who wants to get married?” You asked, his suggestion, specifically to you, wooshing over your head. Homelander scoffed, shaking his head at you. “No, not really, but you make me think of it.” He smirked, but still you only smiled. “I’m glad I inspire that thought. Why though?”

Homelanders expression fell, a part of him unsure of whether you were fucking with him or not, though he knew you were ocassionally socially unaware it was natural for him to second guess people’s intentions. Homelander figured silly innuendos wouldn’t suffice for you. “Ah, nothing. Let’s go before Ashley’s up my ass being annoying.” Homelander groaned standing with him.

From there on Homelander tried his hardest to get you to see how he wanted you, he did stupid cheesey stuff, flowers, teddy bears, chocolates, but sadly, you didn’t connect the dots. You always thought he was being kind, giving back to you for all you did for him as a personal assistant.

It was frustrating for him, but he also loved the way you reacted and the lack of realization on your end made him somewhat comfortable. No risk for him, as loving you gave him plenty of emotions he wasn’t equipped to deal with.

—

Homelander could have anything he wanted, he kept telling himself that as he arrived at your place, wearing nothing but civilian clothing. Homelander was a global celebrity and it occurred to him that maybe he shouldn’t approach you as a global celebrity or your boss, or as Homelander at all.

Homelander stood in front of your door, costume gone, feeling vulnerable. But if he was going to get you to see he liked you, he needed to take a new approach. “Homelander?” You blinked opening the door in awe. He looked good, human, and he was dressed so casually which you wouldn’t have assumed would make you ogle more at him, but it did.

Homelander smiled uncertainly, shifting on his feet. “Can I come in?” Homelander murmured, and before you could even think about a reply, you were moving out of the way for him. “What brings you here?” You asked, closing the door behind him, watching him as he observed your humble home, something much different from what he’d gotten used too

“I wanted to tell you.. something important.” You blinked at him a bit worried. “Are you okay?” You instantly say, concern in your voice. That alone made Homelander pause, his eyes softening as he looked at you with a fondness. “Yeah yeah,” He waved nonchalantly before continuing.

“Have you noticed the things I’ve gotten you?” Homelander hummed, his hands folded behind his back, though the position looked so different without his supersuit and padded muscles. “Like the chocolate?” You murmured tilting your head, thinking back to all the little things he’d done. “Yes,” You followed up quickly nodding your head.

“Why do you think I was doing all that?” Homelander asked in a low tone, his unbroken eye contact making you a bit nervous. “I don’t know, to be kind?” You guessed laughing a bit with nerves and slight humor. “I’m never kind,” Homelander rolled his eyes, walking up directly in front of you.

“Hopefully this is clear enough,” He grumbled under his breath taking off the baseball cap he was wearing to grab your face between his fingers, your lips puckering slightly under the pressure on your cheeks. Homelander pulled your face forward, molding his lips to yours.

Your mind spun when you felt his lips, everything happening so fast you barely caught up, but the surge of emotion that hit you forced your movements before your brain caught up.

Clinging to his sweater, you pressed into him following the guide of his lips against yours. The submission made Homelander make a dark noise at the back of his throat, dropping his cap to let his hand snake down your spine, the other that stayed around your jaw, shifted back to lightly hold your neck.

Homelander pulled back roughly, his face pulled into what looked like a sneer, confusing you as you looked at him dazed from the passion. “I think I’ve been clear enough now?” His tone was frustrated, like he was restraining himself. “You want me?”

Homelander rolled his eyes again, even after the kiss you still had to question; though he found himself reluctantly fond of this aspect of you. “Yes, I want you as my partner, I want you living with me, sleeping in my bed, being publicly mine.” Homelander flatly said but his lips twitched upward, listening as your heart rate increased.

“I want that too.” You smiled brightly making Homelander give you a soft scoff. “Could’ve had way sooner if you fuckin noticed.” He gruffly tutted making you laugh, unbothered by his all around roughness.

[kiybby]

sfw. dark themes | obsessive devotion

credits : @ianrkives @anitalenia

homelander | Imagine being the only person whose opinion truly matters to him.

The world worships Homelander. Crowds chant his name, cameras flash, and entire cities breathe easier just knowing he’s watching from the sky. He smiles for them, waves for them, saves them.

But none of it ever feels like enough.

Not unless you’re watching.

Imagine standing in a quiet room high above the city, the distant hum of traffic far below. He’s just returned from another flawless rescue—cape still fluttering slightly, uniform untouched, eyes searching.

Not for danger.

For you.

“Did you see it?” he asks, voice carefully controlled, almost hopeful. “I stopped the plane from crashing. Not a single casualty.”

You hesitate. Maybe you’re tired. Maybe the words don’t come quickly enough. Maybe you simply don’t react the way he expects.

And the change in him is immediate.

The air grows heavy, charged with something unspoken. His smile falters, just for a second, before slipping away entirely. The city lights flicker across his face as disappointment settles in, fragile and terrifying in equal measure.

Imagine the most powerful man in the world stepping closer, uncertainty creeping into his posture.

Then, slowly, he kneels.

Not out of humility.

Out of reverence.

His gloved hands hover near you, as if afraid to touch without permission. When he finally looks up, his expression is raw—eyes shining with unshed tears, desperation barely contained beneath the surface.

“Tell me I’m good,” he whispers, voice trembling with need. “Please.”

The plea hangs in the air, fragile and suffocating.

Because you know he doesn’t just want praise—he needs it. Your approval is the axis on which his entire world spins. Without it, the adoration of millions means nothing.

Imagine him resting his forehead lightly against your hand, seeking comfort like something lost and wounded, despite the unimaginable power he holds.

“I’ll do anything to deserve it,” he murmurs. “Anything you want. Just… don’t look at me like I’ve failed.”

And in that moment, it becomes terrifyingly clear:

The world may belong to Homelander.

But Homelander belongs to you.

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

"𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐚𝐬 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐝", 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫! 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You had only attended the Vought donor gala because the senior legal partner caught pneumonia two days earlier. Suddenly, you were representing your firm in front of Vought’s biggest investors. That's when you met Homelander.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He found you near the champagne tower. He didn't expect you to speak to him. Even the hotshot CEOs were afraid to actively engage him in conversation, but you made a joke and it had made him laugh. “You’re not afraid of me?” he asked pleasantly. You shrugged. “It'll be a sad day when we come to fear our national heroes." The conversation lasted twelve minutes before you thanked him and stepped away to join a colleague. That was the only time you had ever spoken to him, and you never gave it a second thought.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Twelve months later and Homelander is still stuck on you. You're his fixation and you don't even know it. He knows where you live, who your inner circle is, and the exact cadence of your laugh through your apartment walls.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He enters your apartment when you're not home and rakes through your things. The fantasy grows in his head over time, and he hates how badly he wants you.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ One night, you come home drunk after a brutal week at work. Your friend walks you upstairs, laughing when you stumble over your heels near the door. She helps you undress, and you mumble something incoherent into your pillow when she tucks the blanket over you.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Homelander, who had been hovering silently outside your balcony for nearly forty minutes, watches her leave. He enters your bedroom through the balcony and watches you breathe slow, heavy breaths on the mattress.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Then he sits on the edge of the bed. You shift slightly in your sleep, rolling closer to him unconsciously. The illusion of trust completes his fantasy. He lies down beside you.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You don't wake when his weight makes the bed stutter. He settles comfortably on his side, facing you, and his hand hovers over your waist for several seconds before settling. His face presses briefly into the crook of your neck as he inhales shakily, eyes falling shut. His tongue traces a line over your jaw, and he can taste the sharp remnants of your perfume.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He falls onto his back and pulls you carefully onto his chest, feeling his heart race. He stares blankly at the ceiling and closes his eyes, pretending it's real. He bites off his left glove and, with a bare hand, caresses your cheek. His right palm strokes hard into his slacks.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ The next morning, you wake alone but a draft alerts you to the unlocked balcony door. You're groggy and hungover, but some part of you still recognizes the smell of somebody else's cologne on your pillow.

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

My darling stalker ♡

[moraxine]

Employee of the Month

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

pairing: homelander x employee!fem reader

summary: in which homelander spends his time watching you from vought’s surveillance cameras until he decides to reveal himself as the stalker who’d disturbed your hectic office routine.

note: smuttish, weird and s1 homie

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You worked on the sixtieth floor.

Little old corporate meh.

So not important enough for the ninety-ninth, but not invisible like the basement levels either. You were somewhere in the middle (literally), which at Vought meant you were close enough to the sun to feel its heat, but far enough that no one cared if you burned.

Your job was… simple.

Monitor press responses, draft internal notes, rewrite statements until “collateral damage” became “unforeseen civilian impact” and “Another Homelander incident” became “hostile escalation successfully contained by America’s greatest.”

Words just came easier when you had to type them down. And moral interventions were not allowed of course. You were lucky enough to have gotten this one of a lifetime job opportunity. Speaking out and voicing your actual thoughts would probably get you more than just fired.

But you’d made amends with it in a way, having adjusted to the madness of it all and managing to create a routine out of it that, under moral circumstances, would look like a typical 9-5.

Regardless on your views on propaganda, you were good at your job.

That was the first thing the Homelander noticed too.

Not your face - not at first at least.

But your work.

And it annoyed him so very much.

He didn’t usually read the little people’s edits. He didn’t need or cared to. Ashley handed him the statements, he smiled for the cameras, and America swallowed whatever version of the truth Vought served on a silver platter.

But one afternoon, during a meeting he hadn’t wanted to attend, someone had placed a briefing packet in front of him.

There, in the margins, was your writing.

Not scared. Not desperate to flatter him like other people did.

It was precise. Honest.

Remove ‘heroic restraint.’ Sounds defensive.

Don’t say ‘misunderstood.’ Makes him sound emotional.

Use ‘decisive.’ Polls better with men 35–54.

He’s stared at the sentence.

Makes him sound emotional.

His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek.

Who the hell were you?

Well, he found out before lunch.

Your name. Your department. Your desk number. Your badge history. The time you entered the building. The time you left. Your usual coffee order from the kiosk downstairs. Your apartment building. Your mother’s maiden name. Your last three performance reviews.

Vought’s systems were very useful when you were Vought’s favorite product.

By the end of the week, Homelander knew you took the stairs from fifty eight to sixty when you were anxious, even though there was nothing on fifty eight except archived marketing files and one vending machine.

He knew you hated the raspberry protein bars in the break room but ate them anyway when deadlines got bad.

He knew you kept extra shoes under your desk.

He knew you cried once outside the bathroom after a senior VP called your work “hasty bullshit.”

Homelander had watched that part twice.

Not because he liked seeing you cry.

He didn’t.

That was the oddest thing.

He had expected to enjoy it. Depending on the situation and his mood, people breaking was usually boring at best, satisfying at worst. Their silly little reasons for crying like fucking babies without diapers could drive him insane.

They were all so…human. And small. And ridiculous.

Yours was a little different. You had covered your mouth with your hand so no one would hear, forced yourself to breathe, entered the bathroom to fix your lipstick in the mirror, and walked back out like nothing happened.

He had paused the footage.

Then rewound it.

Then watched your face settle into calm in a matter of seconds.

Something in his chest had gone unpleasantly tight.

After that, he started checking the cameras before his interviews.

Then before meetings.

Then after fucking patrol.

Then at night.

Just to make sure you got home, obviously.

He would tell himself it wasn’t strange. It wasn’t wrong. He was the Homelander. He was supposed to protect people right? That was the whole point of his marketing existence. Yes, he hated every second of it but for you, he was willing to pretend.

Besides, you were…

Well.

You were worth watching.

“Your numbers are insane this quarter,” your coworker Diana said, leaning against your desk one morning. “Like, scary insane. Did you sell your soul or something?”

You snorted without looking up from your laptop. “Pretty sure everyone who signs an employment contract here does that by default.”

She laughed.

Homelander didn’t.

From the empty conference room across the hall, invisible behind mirrored glass, he watched your smile curve and linger.

Diana was too close to your desk, her hip was touching the edge.

Why did that bother him so much?

He heard Diana ask, “Drinks tonight?”

Oh he definitely wanted to laser her out in front of everyone.

Fighting the urge, Homelander leaned forward slightly.

“Maybe,” you replied. “Depends on when I finish.”

“You always say that.”

“Because I always mean it.”

Diana just rolled her eyes jokingly and walked away.

Homelander’s gaze stayed on you.

You rubbed at your temple. Your shoulders were tight. You had been sleeping badly again. He knew because you had turned on your corporate phone at 3:12 a.m. the night before and searched, “can stress cause chest pain.”

That had irritated him too.

Vought was full of insects in expensive shoes, buzzing around you, bothering you, taking pieces of your precious day. Your manager gave you extra work because you did it properly. Your coworkers came to you for help because you were too nice to say no. Men in elevators looked at you for half a second too long and then acted normal because cameras existed.

And he saw all of it, that was the problem.

And once he started seeing you, he couldn’t stop.

There was something addictive about your presence, he couldn’t quite grasp. To be fair, he would never even acknowledge to his own self that he’d gotten hooked into checking on you daily. He called it mere curiosity, hoping that if he’d studied you enough, he would know how to turn this into his advantage. Every person had something to offer to him, right? Should offer him.

But if so, why the fuck were the roles in reverse?

The first present appeared on a Tuesday.

Just a fresh coffee on your desk, exactly the way you always ordered it, still warm.

You stared at it for a full ten seconds.

Then you looked around.

No one looked back.

The culprit, watching from the hallway feed, smiled in pride.

But you didn’t drink it like he’d expected.

You threw it away. God knows who was trying to sabotage you into missing that important meeting with your manager later. Nobody had ever brought you coffee before and it seemed suspicious enough for you to get rid of it, just in case. Of course, it would be nice if someone from your coworkers cared enough to do that - but nobody did, mostly because of the strict deadlines everyone followed, so every little second counted. Not much time for chitchat either.

Needless to say Homelander was unbearable for the rest of day.

Ashley spilled three separate coffees trying to get through a meeting with him. The Deep almost pissed himself. Someone from Legal fainted when he asked, very calmly, why it was so fucking difficult for people to show basic gratitude.

The second present came the next day.

A wrapped raspberry protein bar.

Your least favorite.

This time, there was a note.

You should eat real food. Not this shit.

Your body went still.

You picked up the note, turned it over, read it again, then looked directly at the nearest security camera.

Directly with intention.

Homelander went still for a moment behind the screen.

Your expression was impossible to read. Not afraid, exactly. Not pleased either.

Then you raised both eyebrows as if to say, seriously?

And he laughed before getting startled by his own instinct.

The sound left his chest before he could make it handsome, before he could make it charming. A real laugh, brief and surprised.

You decided to put the protein bar in your drawer.

You did not throw the note away either.

You came to the conclusion that someone was actively stalking you enough to know parts of your routine in the company. Could it be an overhead? Did you do something wrong that would cause doubt about your performance? Were you subtly being threatened? Someone who doesn’t want to get caught watching wouldn’t leave traces that they are.

Sure, surveillance in such a place is a must and you have signed up for all of this but this is targeted. Who would care enough to watch a mere employee on office fucking five?

Things started shifting drastically as your questions doubled.

Your workload got lighter, doable.

Of course you noticed.

Emails that would have ruined your morning suddenly went to other people. Your manager stopped leaning over your shoulder. The VP who had criticised your work was abruptly transferred to a division in Ohio and looked physically haunted on his last day. (Haha Ohio)

You watched the changes happen around you like furniture moving by itself in the dark, like some haunting had taken over.

At first you told yourself not to be dramatic.

This was Vought. Weird things happened at Vought. Cover-ups happened at Vought. A lot of dark, illegal things happened at Vought.

Supes walked through walls, PR teams buried scandals, one time someone from Finance found a human teeth in a conference room and everyone just agreed to ignore it…

For better or worse, you were part of this twisted world.

But the notes kept coming.

Not every day. That would have been easier to dismiss as a prank.

No, they came just when you needed them.

A black umbrella waiting on your desk five minutes before rain hit the city.

You forgot yours.

A new badge after yours started glitching.

Security should do their job properly.

A copy of a report you had lost when your laptop crashed.

You need to save your work more often.

Your stomach twisted every time.

The handwriting was neat and controlled. Almost old-fashioned.

You realized who it was before you dared to admit it. You’d heard stories about him before, of fixations of his to get what he wants and then dispose of whoever was lucky enough to help him. He was untouchable and distant, scary up close, nothing like the man on the screen. You never had the honor of meeting him in person, thank goodness.

Everyone knew there were cameras in Vought Tower and everyone knew the walls had ears. But knowing that was different from feeling watched.

And lately, you felt it everywhere;

In the elevator.

At your desk.

In the lobby, when the giant screens played his speeches and his blue eyes looked out over everyone.

You would glance up, and for one horrible second, it would feel like the image was looking back at you.

Then one night, you stayed late. Awfully late.

The office became unfamiliar after hours. The fluorescent lights seemed colder. Desks sat empty. You were rewriting an emergency response statement about a “contained incident” in Queens. Contained, apparently, meant three city blocks and a news helicopter.

Your eyes burned but you had to push through.

Your phone buzzing startled you out of your trance. Who could it be at this hour?

Unknown number.

Go home.

Your blood went cold. No, no, not again.

You stared at the message.

Then typed back before you could completely lose your nerve.

Who is this?

Three dots appeared immediately.

Then vanished.

Then appeared again.

You know.

Suddenly the office felt awfully quiet.

You looked toward the camera in the corner.

“Stop it,” you shouted out loud.

Nothing happened.

Your phone buzzed again.

You’re tired. You’ll make mistakes.

Your fingers tightened around the phone.

This was actually fucking insane. Your mind is racing with possible scenarios concerning your fate. Would you be crushed to death? Badly beaten? Because for sure that didn’t seem to be how normal people reach out.

Well, supes are not normal people and probably don’t think like normal people with all this power in their hands now do they?

Are you watching me right now?

This time, there was no delay.

Yes.

Your breath caught in your throat

There it was. The confirmation sunk in and your fear tripled.

You stood up so fast your chair rolled backward and hit the desk behind you.

“I don’t know what you think this is,” you said, voice shaking despite your best effort, “but it needs to stop.”

The elevator dinged.

Oh you were so fucked.

The doors opened at the far end of the floor.

And then you saw him. The man who had disturbed the peace you had worked so hard to find in that shithole. Ocean eyes and golden locks walked towards you slowly, while you stayed frozen in place.

He was undoubtedly Homelander, but not fully. He was missing the cameras, the cheering crowd, the American flag rippling behind him on morning news. Just him in the suit, cape dragging softly over the polished floor, face calm in a way that made your instincts scream.

You knew who he was and heard things about him, but this was when you started to realize you didn’t know him at all.

“You shouldn’t be here this late,” he said.

You hated that his voice was gentle.

It would have been easier if he sounded cruel.

“I’m working.” Should you have added sir at the end of the sentence? Considering he had been violating your privacy, you decided to risk it and go with a big fat no.

“I know.”

“Of course you know.”

His eyes flicked over your face. “Aaaand you’re upset.”

You laughed once, sharp and humorless. He had to be kidding. “Wow. Great observation.”

His jaw tightened.

Careful, something in your head warned. He could take you out in an instant if he wanted to. And yet, despite knowing the danger you were under if you slipped and said the wrong thing, the anger inside you still managed to surpass your survival instincts.

Supe or not, there was not reason for you to get actively stalked.

“You can’t do this.”

Homelander tilted his head, putting his hands behind his back. “Do what?”

“Watch me. Text me. Move things around in my life like I won’t notice.”

“Y/n, I helped you, and this is what I get? Humans are truly ungrateful.”

“You fucking scare me.”

That landed.

His expression shifted almost imperceptibly, but you saw it. The irritation. The disbelief. The brief, wounded confusion that he crushed immediately under something colder.

“I scare you,” he repeated, just to make sure that he’d heard correctly.

After treating you so nice, trying to help and take care of you subtly - that was the thank you he was getting? He should have snapped your neck right then and there for being such a fucking brat. You had the audacity to talk back to him and doubt his decisions? He could do whatever he wanted with you at any point.

Maybe he shouldn’t have been so graceful towards you.

Despite your confession, your heartbeat seemed pretty steady. It was definitely different than what he was used to. Normally those who feared him didn’t word their fear, rather they were betrayed by their own heart threatening to rip out of their chest.

“I kept people off your back.”

“You interfered with my job and I don’t want that please.” You said, in attempt to reason with him.

The overhead lights hummed.

For a second, you remembered exactly who you were talking to; not a difficult executive. Not some lonely man with boundary issues.

Him.

The most powerful man in the world.

And you had some serious audacity to get into an argument with him, subtly pushing him to admit he was wrong and changing his mind.

Homelander stepped closer.

You forced yourself not to step back because you’d bang on your desk. Besides, showing vulnerability would definitely be to your disadvantage.

“You have no idea,” he said softly, “how many things I don’t do.”

His gaze dipped briefly, then returned to your face.

“I don’t come to your apartment,” he said. “I don’t stand outside your window. I don’t remove every idiot who looks at you wrong. I don’t make you answer when you ignore my messages.”

Your stomach turned.

He said it like these were gifts.

Like restraint was romance.

“Homelander,” you started carefully but he interrupted you by lifting his pointer finger.

“Nope, shut up. Because you kept the notes. The coffee, no. That hurt my feelings, by the way. But the notes? Top drawer. Under the emergency Advil and that awful lipstick you never wear.”

A chill slid down your back.

“You went through my desk, too?”

“I don’t need to go through things to see them.”

“Why me? Why are you doing this to me?”

He took another slow step forward, boots nearly silent on the carpet. His smile didn’t falter, but something darker flickered behind his eyes - hunger, maybe even a flicker of uncertainty.

“Why you?” His voice was smooth, laced with that arrogant drawl, but there was a raw edge to it.

“Because you’re real. Not some simpering idiot throwing themselves at me for clout or power. You sit here night after night, working like the world isn’t already mine. And you don’t flinch when I look at you. Not completely.” He was closer now, towering over your desk.

“I’ve seen every little moment. The way you bite your lip when you’re focused. The way you sigh and stretch… the way your shirt pulls across your chest. You’re mine to watch. And I’m tired of watching.”

Your breath caught now. All strength you’d managed to muster had totally evaporated. You should have been terrified. You should have screamed. Instead, heat pooled low in your belly at the raw possession in his tone. “That’s not a proper answer,” you whispered, but your voice trembled.

Mine, mine, he kept saying that. His superiority over literally everyone else probably made his life boring, boring enough to drive him nuts. He looked at you as his plaything, something to help time pass until he got bored and jumped onto the next.

Despite all these thoughts running in your head, knowing that you were totally helpless and at the mercy of the strongest supe, there was something sickly attractive about the way he treated you. The way his eyes, stormy now, took you in, the way he approached and talked to you. The way he looked awfully good in that suit, the way-

Oh.

He rounded the desk in one fluid motion, faster than you could track. One gloved hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to his. His thumb brushed your lower lip, surprisingly gentle.

“It’s the only answer you’re getting,” he murmured, voice dropping to a velvet growl. “Now stop talking.”

His mouth crashed down on yours without any other warning.

The kiss was anything but gentle. It was hot, demanding, almost bruising. His lips were softer than you expected, warm and insistent as they moved against yours.

You gasped, and he took the opportunity to deepen it, tongue sliding in to taste you with a low, hungry sound that vibrated through his chest.

He tasted like mint and something faintly metallic, like ozone after a storm. One of his hands tangled in your hair, gripping just tight enough to send sparks down your spine, while the other braced on the desk, caging you in.

You kissed him back. God help you, you did. For someone thinking supes had weird hobbies, you were acting in a similar manner yourself.

But what were your options anyway? He definitely wouldn’t let you walk out in a civilised manner.

Might as well add to your book of life that you got to fuck the strongest man in the whole entire world.

Your fingers fisted in the front of his suit, the fabric strangely smooth and unyielding under your palms. He groaned into your mouth when you tugged him closer, the sound raw and surprisingly human.

His body pressed against yours, solid and radiating heat even through the costume. You could feel the hard planes of his chest, the tension in his shoulders as he fought to keep control.

“Fuck,” he breathed against your lips, breaking the kiss only to trail his mouth down your jaw, teeth grazing your pulse point. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Your hands moved on their own, sliding up to his neck, then into his perfectly styled hair, messing it up. He shuddered at the touch like no one ever touched him like this, like he was something to be wanted and not feared. That small, vulnerable reaction made something soften inside you even as arousal burned hotter.

He lifted you effortlessly, your ass hitting the edge of the desk as papers scattered to the floor. Your legs parted instinctively, and he stepped between them, grinding against you.

The hard length of him pressed against your core through his suit, thick and insistent. You moaned, rolling your hips, chasing the friction.

“Homelander-” you gasped.

“John,” he corrected roughly, nipping at your collarbone as his hands worked open your blouse. Buttons flew.

“Say it.”

“John,” you whimpered.

That broke something in him. He shoved your skirt up around your waist, fingers hooking into your panties and tearing them aside with a sharp rip that made you jolt. Cool air hit your slick folds, but it was immediately replaced by the heat of his hand as he cupped you, two fingers stroking through your wetness.

“So fucking wet already,” he growled, voice wrecked. “For me.”

You nodded frantically, pulling him back into a messy kiss. Tongues tangled, teeth clicked, breaths mingled in desperate pants. His fingers circled your clit with devastating precision before sliding into you, curling just right. You cried out against his mouth, thighs trembling around his hips.

He didn’t wait long. The sound of his suit being pulled aside was faint, and then he was there—hot, heavy, and bare against you. The head of his cock nudged your entrance, slick with your arousal.

“Look at me,” he ordered.

You did. Those blue eyes were blown wide with lust, pupils dilated, but there was something almost pleading beneath the dominance.

He thrust in with one powerful stroke, burying himself to the hilt. The stretch burned so good you saw stars, a broken moan tearing from your throat. He was big, thicker and longer than you’d imagined and the feeling of being so completely filled made your head spin.

“Fuck, you feel-” He cut himself off with a guttural groan, forehead dropping to yours. For a second he just stayed there, trembling, like he was savoring it. Then he started moving.

Hard. Deep. Relentless.

The desk creaked beneath you with every thrust. Your hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders, nails digging into the suit as he fucked you like a man starved.

Each drag of his cock against your walls sent pleasure spiraling through you. His mouth found yours again in a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, swallowing your cries as he pounded into you.

One of his hands gripped your thigh, spreading you wider. The other braced on the desk, knuckles white. Sweat beaded on his forehead, his usually perfect hair falling messily over his eyes. He looked devastatingly human like this,

flushed, desperate, lost in the feel of you.

“You belong to me,” he panted between thrusts, voice breaking. “Say it.”

“I belong to you,” you gasped, clenching around him. The pressure was building fast, coiling tight in your belly.

His pace faltered, hips stuttering as he chased his own release. He reached between you, thumb finding your clit again, rubbing tight circles until you shattered.

You came hard, back arching, vision whiting out as pleasure crashed over you in waves. Your walls pulsed around him, pulling him deeper. With a broken moan that sounded almost pained.

John followed right after, burying himself deep and spilling inside you with hot, pulsing jets.

For a long moment, the only sounds were your ragged breathing and the faint creak of the desk.

He stayed inside you, forehead pressed to yours, eyes closed. His hand came up to cradle the back of your head almost tenderly, thumb stroking your hair.

“You’re not getting rid of me,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Not now. Not ever.”

And he meant it.

He’d give you the freedom to choose him, sure, but he’d have the final say, anyway.

He listened to your heartbeat fade through steel and concrete when you left a few minutes later, still dizzy and flustered by what had just happened.

Would telling Diana be an infringement of your NDA? Holy fuck, who cared? That was the most intense experience of your entire fucking life. Him having this obsession with you maybe was less creepy than you thought. Or maybe you getting with him totally turned your mind upside down and blurred your judgment, totally forgetting the potential peril you had just gotten yourself into.

John looked at your desk. Your mug. Your closed laptop. Your drawer with every note you pretended you didn’t care about.

His smile returned.

Small, private, patient.

You would text him when you got home like he’d requested.

Okay, maybe not tonight.

Maybe not tomorrow.

But eventually you would.

Everyone looked up at the sky sooner or later.

[mira-angle]

[french-vanilla-in-the-clouds]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐨𝐥, 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Being Ashley Barrett’s personal assistant may have bought you killer networking opportunities in Vought but it's also made you the fixation of the most dangerous man in the nation. Homelander receives you with stars in his eyes but you would never know it. You live in a constant state of minimal terror with the supe strutting around your workplace.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He's developed a pavlovian response to the scent of your perfume and pauses during meetings to inhale its remnants after you've left the room. He's left with a near orgasmic expression on his face every time. Once, while you were taking meeting minutes, Homelander stared at you blankly. You were certain he was contemplating snapping your neck but he was just mesmerized by the pulse of aroma fluttering at the base of your throat.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ You've never held a real conversation with him but he's stricken by the idea of you. He uses his super hearing to eavesdrop on your private conversations and gets irrationally jealous of anybody you mention with affection.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Homelander finds your fear of him both intoxicating and frustrating. He wants you to love him but he only inspires terror when he steps into your personal space.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ He interprets your avoidance as a game. He doesn't realize you're simply trying to survive corporate day-to-day. He's only focused on his own agony and figuring out how to possess you without breaking you in the process.

⋆｡𖦹°‧★ Homelander finds himself on the roof most evenings to watch your car leave the parking garage. He tracks the sound of your heartbeat until you're miles away and he hates that he needs you. He also hates that you fear him. Most of all, he hates that he's never felt more alive than when he's scaring the hell out of you.

────────⊳⋆⊲────────

Grrrrr

[fanaticsnail]

I know dreaming of you are group works but I literally want one for katakuri sooo bad like, the GRIP this man has on me is insane

(I love him so much🍩❤)

(Ps.I'm sorry if this sounds like a demand I didn't mean it to❤)

Sweet anon, I have had a grapefruit flavoured soju and immediately began this as soon as I saw it in my ask box an hour ago. I hope you enjoy! (Don't worry, honey. I crave the big guy too).

Dreaming of you

Masterlist Here

Word count: 1,800+

SFW Part 2 Here

Synopsis: He couldn't help it. You looked so heavenly in his dream. The way you writhed on his lap, cried his name and allowed him to please you had him wake to sticky blankets when he jolted upright. His thoughts got the better of him, and he was wracked with a new mission to seek out whether it was a possibility to see it become a reality.

Warnings: wet dreams, afab!reader x katakuri, fingering, nicknames, haki, dub con (Using your image to picture satisfying him in his fantasy), suggestive content, size difference, feelings, NSFW, 18+, MDNI.

Notes: Dreaming of You Masterlist Here, Please read the warnings. I normally do this in threes, but as soon as I saw the ask, I needed to know. Enjoy playing the part of Katakuri's fantasy. Art link.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @nerium-lil @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

Sat on his lap with your back on his chest, his middle digit gently began pistoning in soft beckoning motions into your glistening cunt. His face was coated in a soft glow of blush, his toothy grin tugging dotingly up his cheeks as he watched you cum on his hand through half-hooded lashes. 

Your legs shook as he slowly brushed against your g-spot, angling his large hand over your clit and grinding into it with his palm. Huffing and panting, your release gushed over his leather pants and coated them with another wave of your slick as he stretched your tight pussy with his large fingers. 

“Did you cum again for me, little mouse?” he cooed down at you, gently drawing his index finger over your chin and dragging the pad of his fingertips over your jaw. You looked up at him, the soft sheen of your dewy sweat coated your forehead and stuck the loose strands of your hair against your head. 

“I-I-...” you struggled to find the words, your head fuzzy and spiraling with the sheer number of times Katakuri had devoted to making you whimper, writhe and cream your desires over his fingers, lips and tongue. He offered you nothing but love in his hazel eyes, blinking slowly and angling his face down to smile at you in a soft gaze. 

“I know you did, sweet thing,” he affirmed, drawing soft patterns into your cheek and offering you a kiss on your glistening forehead, “I felt you flutter around me when you called my name. So pretty,” he complimented, rubbing his large cheek over your head and inhaling your perfume, “So sweet.”

You whimpered, drawing your hands up to his face and tugging at his jaw. Moaning and pleading with him, you pressed intentional and desperate kisses against his cheeks, lips, teeth and chin while confessing your desires. 

“I want to try again,” you called to him, imploring him to give into your demands, “Please can we try again? I promise I’ll behave and listen. I can do it this time, promise.” Katakuri groaned, his cheeks deepening with their soft flush as he withdrew his fingers from your pussy, your gummy walls contracting with aftershocks of pleasure as he did so.

“We can’t, you know this,” he attempted to relay to you, gently pressing on your shoulders and turning you in his lap, “I am over seventeen feet tall,” he gestured to his tattooed chest before gently caressing your shoulders, “You don’t even reach half that height. Where are you going to fit it-?”

“-I don’t care,” you reassured him and cut off his train of thought, pressing needy kisses against his chest, trailing lower to his belt buckle, “I’ll make it fit. I am determined to make it fit.” You tugged hard on his belt and released the metal clamp from the leathery holster, “I promise it’ll fit.” 

“It won’t fit,” he again argued, gently tugging at your shoulder with a soft nudge, “You can’t fit it in both of your hands, let alone anywhere else. It’s okay, I assure you,” he urged you to look up at him by drawing up your chin with his index and middle fingers, “It doesn’t make me love you any less.”

You grit your teeth, looking down at him and hardening your resolve. He smiled at your expression, adoring your soft pout and closing his eyes as he was sure he had convinced you to give up on your little mission. It was true, there was no natural way for him to slot himself within you without tearing open your abdomen and breaking your smaller body. 

As he closed his eyes, he felt something soft, wet and tight begin to descend onto his knob. He immediately snapped his eyes open, his eyes wide with shock as you took him within your pussy while wincing back the pain. 

“What are y-you-...?” he began, halting as he gasped at the sensation of your body choking his shaft with your tight pussy. His hands shook, his body ignited with lust and arguing with himself to tug your body away from him, while fighting the urge to buck up into you. 

“I-... I can do it,” you grit your teeth, your eyes clenching shut as you descend onto him inch by inch. Finally taking his large tip into your body, he could see the outline of his knob sheathed within you. Gritting his teeth, he balled his hands into fists and held them firmly at his sides. 

“D-Don’t,” he implored you, his breath hitching in his throat as you took more of him into yourself, “Don’t do this. Please, don’t do this.” He begged, huffing and panting as he felt more of you descend onto his throbbing cock. His shaft twitched at the base involuntarily, prompting a cry to fall from his lips as they parted in shock. 

“I…” you growled at him, prompting his eyes to open at the tone of your cadence, “...can do this.” Your determination held something else in your eye, his own gaze meeting your steely determination as you took the final few inches of his shaft deep within you. He looked closer, noticing the tinge of red around your irises, the lightning veins of swirly command prompting him to fall his toothy jaw slack in shock.

“Armament haki?” he whispered at you, his gaze trickling over your naked form in shock and awe, “You’re-... nnnnhg-... you’re using armament haki in order to take my cock?” His voice stuttered as his resolve nearly crumbled in its cower. Your eyes darkened, your pussy fluttering around him as it contracted to endure his size.

“I am,” you confirmed with a curt, dangerous and feral nod, “And I can hold this armament haki for three minutes,” you splayed your fingers on his happy trail and bounced a little to ensure it was working. You looked up at him with a manic glint in your eye, his eyes trembling in shock as you uttered mischievously, “So you have about one minute forty five to use me the way you so desperately want to, sweetheart. Better get going.” 

Without much further warning, Katakuri spun you beneath him and began mercilessly bullying you with his exceptionally girthy cock. The indent of his shaft molded your body to fit his contour, the bulge in your abdomen protruding as he sheathed himself with every harsh thrust. 

He had never been with a partner, always fearing to tear them in half and break them the moment he gave into his desire. He wasn’t sure he would be able to hold out for the remaining minute and thirty seconds you had remaining of this armament, simply lost to all other thoughts than how perfect you felt wrapped around him. He huffed and panted your name, using you as his personal sleeve as he grasped your hips in a single hand beneath where you lay under him.

“I-I’m-... I’m-... I’m-...” he growled, feeling his release pool in his abdomen and tighten in the pit of his belly, “I’m gonna cum. I’m g-gonna cum.” 

“Cum in me, Katakuri,” you urged him, your body taking him effortlessly without a hint of pain or sorrow, “Claim me, make me yours. I’m yours. Only yours.” He pulled you into him further, harder, faster, stronger. His hips stapled you against the mattress as he felt the first twitches of his cock readying for erruption. 

“Hh-hah-... I’m c-cumming,” he sobbed, his teeth drawing down to nibble at your neck as he began to ride his high, “I’m cumming, I’m-... f-fuck-... I’m cumming.” He shot rope after rope of his pearlescent cum deep within your abdomen, immediately splashing back and coating the base of his shaft and balls with each hefty wave of sticky release. 

Huffing and panting, he continued riding through his high, his bucking, tugging and grinding continuing to have him sob your name as he finally experienced the unity between the two of you. He felt relief and bittersweet sorrow eclipse his being the moment his ecstasy ceased, looking down at you with awe and amazement. 

“I love you,” he whispered, pressing a sweet kiss on your forehead as he felt the final spurts of his pent up release brush into your body and splash back onto his own. As he darted his eyes between yours, your image dissipated into a cloud of vapor and his eyes widened in shock. 

He shook his head, reopening his eyes and noticing his room was without luminance and dark in comparison to the soft, smoky glow it was lit with moments before. Rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, he looked down at himself and noticed another duvet ruined by his midnight muse. He growled at himself, his jaws clenching tightly shut as he came to terms with everything he dreaded. 

It was another dream. 

Another dream about you.

When he met you and the rest of the Straw-Hat crew back at Cake Island for the wedding between his sister and the Vinsmoke boy, he was immediately captivated by you. You had a fiery temper, a need to care for your crew, and compassion for your enemies by heeding a code of conduct while you battled. 

You hurt his sister, Brulee, by engaging her in combat. Something he was going to ensure you paid for with interest the moment he had an opportunity to do so. As she was harmed a little more than you potentially intended, you halted the combat to ensure she was truly okay. Your need to ensure she had an ‘out’ from the fight, to offer her a swift execution or an honorable understanding if she stood down had him immediately smitten with you. 

The minister of flour was in love with you, something he didn’t anticipate ever feeling for an individual. And this was the twelfth time this month he had dreamt of you. His dreams started with him engaging you in battle for you to halt it and offer him peace in the form of a donut. As the dreams became more intense, he pictured himself revealing his face to you and having you accept him for who he was. 

This was the first time he had ever pictured himself fucking you. He had always ever pleasured you in his dreams, never seeking satisfaction for himself due to the sheer impossibility of it. You were small, he was tall: there was nothing he could do to change that fact. 

Nothing, until his dreams offered him this solution. 

He immediately began cleaning up after his night visit, reaching for his tissue box beside his bed and tidying the glubs of his release over his abdomen, deflating shaft, and bedsheets beneath him. Getting up from his reline, he headed over to his desk and pulled out a small collection of information regarding armament haki. Sifting through the pages, he thought this time he had finally found the solution. 

This time, he could finally find a way to experience what he had denied himself for so long. 

He could only hope that you were not only able to wield armament haki, but that you could consider the possibility to engage yourself with him in a relationship. He loved you from afar, using his sister’s ability to check in with you from time to time after the battle. You seemed friendly enough with them both whenever they checked in, perhaps you could see yourself with someone like him.

His hope would come soon enough, his sister's face split up in a large smile as she spoke with you on a den-den snail. You were aboard the Thousand Sunny and sailing with your captain towards Elegia to see Uta's concert. Inviting Brulee to join you at the venue, to sing along to Uta's music with her, was potentially his way to confess his love for you once the festivities concluded.

[fanaticsnail]

Dreaming of You

Series Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,800+

Synopsis: There was something not right about this scenario. Fear gripped you as you lay helpless and quivering beneath a figure you had never met. Fear gripped you, and the cusps of reality slipped further from you the deeper you gave in to his motions.

Themes: Accursed Prince Loki x afab!reader, dub con, non con hinted, size difference: extra large, Elbaf spoiler warning, NSFW, 18+, MDNI, smut, nightmares, terror themes, threats, violence threatened, fear, enemies that remain enemies.

Notes: Art by @skullfacedlady, to whom this fic is dedicated to because she needs more content with this beautiful, terrifying man. It is also not how I regularly write this little series, but I couldn't resist a little twist because my hand slipped. Position also heavily inspired by @don-mellow's art on Twitter (NSFW link). Two beautiful artists making me fall in love with this accursed prince, and it's a long way to tumble.

The atmosphere was sparsely illuminated by dull tongues of fire. Flickering against the cobblestone and revealing the giant’s mane and helm, a sinister grin split up his cheeks as he stooped below towards your small, quivering frame.

“Poor tiny human,” he purrs down at you, his voice reverberating in the chasms of your chest and causing your lips to quiver in fright. “All afraid and shaking.”

The rattles of the chains shackling his wrists was the only forewarning he gave before your clothes were split and shredded by one deliberate swipe. Fear gripped you as you were now bare before the giant, your eyes widening and flesh puckering in the cool of the air.

“No need for that face,” he chuckled, reaching down and expelling his cock from its bonds in his leathery pants. The tip was blushed a pretty hue of red, now revealed with a crude slap of his shaft springing up and catching on his stomach. “I have no intention of hurting my little plaything. Quite the contrary, in fact.”

The shudder in your body was the only response you made, your voice physically unable to speak or scream at the man to halt his actions. He dove down towards you, throat chuckling as a hefty wave of his warm breath met your flushed skin.

“I just want a look,” he growled in a deep baritone, “Open your legs for me, or I will open them for you. Trust, plaything, the former would be far more pleasant for you. Ankles to your ass, knees to the side. Now.”

A sob hitched in your throat as you made to move your body. As he said, you drew your feet slowly up to the bottom of your ass and butterflied your knees out to the sides. Turning your face away from him, you clenched your eyes shut and whimpered as you felt the huffs of his breath journey ever closer.

“Would you look at that, wee plaything,” his voice held a tone of teasing to it, “Such a pretty, flushed cunt all there for the taking.”

You screamed at him internally, pleading and begging for him to not attempt to put his cock inside you. It would kill you, given the fact his cock was larger than the size of you in your entirety.

His meaty fingers brushed against your side, tickling you with his teasing advances. You flinched away from his touch, but it only made him all the more enthusiastic about your little display. Drawing his hand up your torso, he used one hand to draw up both of your wrists to pin above your head by a single index finger.

“You know when I said ‘I just want a look’ just now?” he growled, stooping ever closer to you and dragging his whiskered chin over your naked chest.

“I lied.”

Just as you opened your eyes and began to make a motion to scream at him to halt, his fat tongue fled from his lips and licked a long stripe from your cunt up to your head. The slippery saliva dampened your pores, nipples pebbling as his hot breath cooled your skin when impacting the stripe. Your legs threatened to close to avoid the cold, but that thought was all but sprung from your head when his tongue returned to you.

Through panted, muffled breaths, the larger giant growled at you as he drew his slippery organ up and down your body.

“If you close your legs, plaything,” he mouthed at your skin, taking your cunt and ass into his mouth and flicking his tongue in messy circles behind his lips, “I'll bite the fucking things off. Leave them parted.”

You screamed internally at the thought, actions frozen in place as your thighs and knees became damp within the giant’s mouth. His smile only grew when he tasted your arousal beginning to pool over his tongue. Drawing your ass away from his mouth, he focussed the attention of his tongue against your slit: flicking his larger tongue against your clit to the best of his focussed abilities.

His tongue was porous, feeling each dip and elevation due to the insane size difference. It was larger than any cock you had seen in the past. The tip alone, now pointed and focussed, being of greater size than any toy you had found for yourself.

While pinning you with one hand, he reached his cock and began pumping it below you both. The drooling cock head twitched with every down thrust, the veins flooding his shaft with desire only swelling his need for you.

“That's it,” he praised you, the vibrations of his voice causing you to wail and arch your back towards his touch, “Give in to it. I'm not going to stop. Too much fun to be had between us, plaything.”

You felt the first cusps of ecstasy call to you, tingling in your toes and swelling within your chest. The muted moans and cries fleeing your lips held a gloomy echo, your eyes refusing to make contact with the beast lurking below you as he consumed your lust and drove you off the cusps of insanity.

“I can feel how close you are,” he chuckled, fucking his fist by bucking his hips down, “Let me hear you scream for me.” His thrusts were as manic as his tongue continued to flicker and swirl against your cunt.

Instead of maintaining focus of simply the tip of his tongue alone, he moved back to lengthy stripes, dressing your ass, cunt, and chest in a marriage of his saliva and your arousal each time.

It felt wrong on more levels than simply one. This giant’s touch, the way you couldn't speak, how you had no true control over yourself or how you responded to his words or actions, it was all too wrong. Just as you shook your head to attempt to free you of this internal line of questioning, your stomach clenched and sparks began to fly behind your eyes.

Euphoria bloomed in your stomach and flooded your veins with sparks and lightning. Releasing your ecstasy over the giant's tongue while screaming out in bliss, the giant moaned and chuckled down at you. Lulling and lapping, he greedily overstimulated you while you rode the waves of your high.

Pulling away, a large string of saliva connected his tongue to your cunt while he rose away from your panting and heaving form. Pumping his cock viciously, his tip began to bubble pearls of precum into his fist.

“What a pretty plaything,” he groaned out for you, his voice picking up in the corners of his throat, “I'm going to paint you to claim as mine. Look up at me now, plaything.”

His demands had your eyes meeting with the concealed gaze behind cream-coloured bandages, before your vision blurred by a crude splash of his cum meeting your face. Ropes of hot white uncoiled and burned against your head, torso, thighs, and cunt: almost drowning you in the sheer size of his load. Coughing and spluttering was all you could do as the giant barked out a cackled string of laughter.

“We are going to have so much fun together,” the giant’s voice echoed within your ears, muffled by viscous cum flooding your features.

With a fit of fiery adrenaline, you tore your hands away from his grip and sat upright. Eyes wide and manic, you continued on to release a blood curdling scream that rang throughout your quarters. Body covered in sweat, breath hitching in fear, undergarments covered with your sticky release, your eyes immediately found the door as it flung wide.

Immediately springing towards you, hands of rubber surrounded your form and coiled around you. The familiar feeling of your captain surrounding you was not unwelcome. Your arms immediately found their way to wrap around his back and bury your head in the crook of his neck.

“I couldn't move, I couldn't speak,” you sobbed manickly, curling into the embrace with your tears dampening his red best, “I was stuck, helpless, afraid. I couldn't-.”

“-Shh,” he hushed you, speaking your name slowly and quietly as he nuzzled against your head, “I'm not going to let anything happen to you. Just breathe with me, okay? Just in and out slowly. Just like you're smelling some of Sanji’s barbeque and blowing on it because the meat’s too hot.”

In your manic state, you manage to chuckle through the tears as your captain empathetically mirrored your laughter. He tightened the grip he had on you, squeezing his eyes shut and calming himself down alongside you.

He was usually a deep sleeper, but there was something about the way you screamed that seemed all too familiar to him. The helplessness, the fear, the torment. It was not a good scream to hear from anyone, least of all from his counsellor.

He invited you to serve on his ship because you had a natural gift. He couldn't put a name to it, nor could you, but you seemed to harbor a great amount of knowledge of decisions that lead to the best and worse outcomes in any given situation. Similarly to the way Nami can read the weather, you have this intuition regarding the future, knowing what would come to pass before it ever occured.

It doesn't happen often, not ever to this degree, and it could've simply been a nightmare: but it was so vivid, it caused you such great distress. Not only the vision itself, but the content of it. It was like you were trapped, and there was no one there to save you.

“When you're ready, and if you're able,” Luffy whispered against your ear, still trying to have you breathe with him with his arms surrounding you, “Tell me what happened. I'll listen, no matter if it was just a sea cow eating a part of The Sunny.”

He pulled away from your head, peering down and beaming at you with a smile. You gazed up at him through damp lashes and felt your breath control return to you. At the door to your quarters, the remainder of the crew stood in a variety of dress: from pajamas to their regular clothes, they all stood waiting for your words to come to you.

“It was a giant,” you whimpered softly, design your eyes between the two caramel orbs harboring nothing but love and understanding down at you, “And there was nothing I could do to stop it.”

“We've fought giants before,” Luffy nodded down at you, his brilliant grin still shining down on you as he smoothed your scalp with his hand, “Nothing we can't handle. We'll be right there with you, fighting the thing to the death. You'll see.” He whispered your name, holding you close and nodding down.

“That's just the thing, Captain,” you whispered back at him, breath as chilled as the grave and teeth chattering with your confession.

“You weren't there.”

“I'll see you soon, little plaything.”

Deep within the bowels of Elbaf, the larger giant chuckled with a large grin splitting up his cheeks. Cum covering his his belly, sheet discarded alongside his pants hanging limply off his ankles, chains rattling on his wrists, he continued to bark out laughter as he drew his fingers and palm over his sticky release.

Gathering the seed in the pads of his fingertips and smearing it over his flesh, he sighed out with a touch of whimsy in his tone.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @ane5e

[fanaticsnail]

Entertain Me

Masterlist here

Word count: 1,800+

Art by @skullfacedlady, who this fic is dedicated to.

Synopsis: He was bored. He was tired. He was... Lonely. What is a giant to do, but make a nuisance of himself before entertainment was given to him by the hands of the wardens who placed him in his chains. And what pretty entertainment you make for him.

Themes: Loki (Elbaf) x f!reader (no pronouns, can be read as afab), oral (reader), dub con, mdni, NSFW, smut, 18+, size difference (large), dark themes (implied cannibalism).

Notes: I am in love with this terrible man.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Rocks shook with each rolling shudder of the giant’s shoulders and spine meeting with the large boulder they were bound to. The banished prince had been placed in his cell to rot in for too long, and solitude had finally begun to consume him. He figured if he was bored, he might as well wreak havoc to the natural flora and fauna population above his confinement by causing a landslide or two with his great strength.

Or, perhaps, something could happen. Something like-... What was happening presently.

The gates of the side of his enclosure had swung wide, a body shoved in, and promptly closed and locked behind them. The smaller figure ran to the gate and screamed to let them out while rattling the bars. Their desperation caused Loki’s brow to arch beneath the bandages before he rose to take a better look at his little guest.

“Oh…? And what is this little runt…” Loki purred with the deep rumble of his thick baritone reverberating throughout the confined prison cell, “...something for me to chew on, perhaps? Something for me to eat?” In a few short strides, Loki approached, his new spark of entertainment, and crouched to bring the figure closer to his large, beaming smile.

“Come now,” he teased, leaning ever closer, “Let me take a closer look at my new little thing, hm? Step closer to me, sweet thing. Let me see what I get to pick out of my teeth later.”

You made yourself as small as you could be. Turning to face him, you sunk back into the bars of the cell and clawed at them in fear. Your hands shook in fear, alongside your lip quivering in petrification. Darting your eyes over his, you came to terms with the man that would be your death.

This was it.

This was where you would be laid to rest. Another skull that the banished prince would sit atop. Another skeleton he would use to pick his teeth with. Another snack he would consume to entertain his solitary confinement, hopefully pleasing him enough to no longer continue to cause damage to the local community above his enclosure by rattling the rockface.

“Do you not talk, little one?” He goaded you, wrapping one of his bound hands around your scantily clad body. Thick fingers easily closed in around your waist as he picked you up to bring you closer. “That's fine. You don't need to talk.” Loki hoisted you up into the air while using his other hand to rip the sheets of material covering your body.

“I just need you to scream.”

“No-!” You yelped while kicking your legs out from under you, “No! No, please-!” Tears welled in your eyes and fled over your lash line as you descended into his mouth. Helplessness overcame you as the giant lulled his tongue out and widened his jaw.

He was going to eat you. The banished prince of Elbaf was going to claim your soul and gnaw on your corpse until you perish. Loki was going to tug your limbs off and destroy the last semblance of yourself you-...

“...-Stop resisting. I'm not going to hurt you,” he barked gruffly up at you. Tugging your legs apart, he chuckled at the position of your exposed cunt quivering over his porus tongue. You shrieked as he placed you atop the slippery surface and dragged you backwards and forwards to settle you. “That's it. Little screams while you ride me.”

“W-While I what?” You scrambled forward, placing your hand on the bridge of his large nose to find ground. “W-What?”

Removing his tongue from your core, he breathed his confession into you with a smoothness you were not expecting from the giant. Careful and intimate whispers were fled from his lips like poetry recited before a betrothed lover, regardless of the content of his words.

“I want you to scream for me. A minor entertainment to me while I waste away beneath the kingdom,” he smiled while gently brushing the tip of his nose over your belly, “You can grind on my tongue and cum in my mouth, or I can fist my cock with you wrapped around it. The choice is yours, little runt. What is it going to be?”

All thoughts of prior consumption for nourishment had left your body, which was now overcome with a new unnerving curiosity. When he ripped your garments from you, you assumed it was due to digestion in his stomach acids - not to place your quivering and sensitive pussy on his body and watch you grind against it to meet your ecstasy. Absolutely not to swipe a tongue that matches the size from the top of your head to your toes, sliding seamlessly between your folds and forcing you towards your climax.

“T-... Tongue,” you whisper, turning your face away from the giant to hide your shame. He chuckled while moving to recline against the rockface he was lying bored against moments prior and settled down with you still in his grip. He took your form in a clawed grip and pressed you against his cheeks, slowly rubbing his face with your smaller frame while inhaling deeply.

“We… Are going to have so much fun together, little one,” he breathed deeply, enjoying the flush of your frightened skin against his revealed flesh, “That’s, if you do a good job.”

You shuddered, bracing your hands out in front of you to stabilise you against his face. At that expression, you gave him a puzzled look and rapidly batted your eyelashes in hasted succession.

“If I-?”

“-You are going to ride my tongue, little one,” he purred with a rasped growl in his tone, “And I am going to sit back and enjoy the show. Go on,” he rolled his shoulders against the pale boulders and lulled his head back on a nook within, “Entertain me.”

Without further warning, he thrust your body against his tongue, spreading your folds apart and dragging the porous surface against your cunt in a tentative lick. He held you firmly and adjusted your hands to perch on his nose and removed his hands completely from your body. Loki splayed himself out to the sides and focussed his breath while you steadied your mount on his tongue.

Furrowing your brows, you slowly gave a tested grind against his face, attempting to pay no mind to how large his teeth were to your much smaller frame. The fear continued to hold you back while you timidly began to rock to and fro on each follicle decorating his palate.

“Don't test me,” he growled with a muffled bark in his tone, “Ride my tongue and cum on it. Let me taste that sweetness you're hiding from me. Entertain me.” The rumble of his voice vibrated his tongue and forced a moan out of your lips at the shockwave pulsing through your body. True to form, you gripped his nose and began to form a steady rhythm grinding your pussy over his tongue.

You focussed on anything else: any other mirage your mind could focus on. Picturing your bedroom and placing a pillow between your thighs, you pretend to be back in that space against your mattress and grinding your cunt against the material. Slowly back and forward to chase the mounting pleasure of your clit caressing the cotton sheets instead of-.

“-That's it… that's it. Find that pace and ride me.”

You shook your head, finding the image of your bedroom to slowly dissipate in favor of reminding you where you truly were. You were not in your bedroom. You were not on your bed. You were not grinding your sensitive heat over a pillow and dampening it with your slick essence.

You were riding Loki, the banished prince of Elbaf, by grinding on his slippery tongue and feeling it pry your thighs apart with every thrust.

Loki’s cock lay untouched and throbbing in his pants, begging to be freed and pumped by one of his large fists. He felt the waves of lust come over him, but chose to rest his hands beside him, palms up and humble while his new little toy used him the way you pleased. Sensing the apprehension, he gave you a warning growl to refocus your momentum.

“Ride. Me.”

You gulped back your shame and bore down onto the bulbs and surface of his tongue, chasing your high and forcing yourself to focus. Do a good job, and he'll let you live. Entertain him, and he might treat you well. Cum on his tongue, give into the feeling, and feel the sparks of your muscles contract and throb against his palate.

The slippery organ began to feel good against your body. The feeling of giving yourself completely over to this primal urge caused you to cast aside all embarrassment and fear in favor of the sparks teetering in your vision. Your stomach bound in knots while your lips began to gasp and sigh softly.

“Louder.”

You flinched at the order, but obeyed the giant. Your sultry moans fled your lips while your clit dances against his muscle. Mewls and cries continued to flee you as you gripped hard on his nose. Your stomach flexed and thighs clenched around him, bucking wildly to chase that final wave as the coil inside you bound tight enough to break.

“Cum. Cum for me.”

The world split and shattered like a mirror against slate. Sparks of silver and rings of gold fizzed and erupted as your cum splashed onto his much larger tongue. You screamed out at the intensity while rocking, grinding and bucking to ride it out on your captor’s tongue - just as he had instructed you to do so.

Loki felt his cock twitch, sticky precum dampening his briefs and screaming for just a little touch. His eyes rolled back as he felt you use him completely, becoming hypnotised by the sweet melody spilling from your lips while you came hard. He could find himself coming quite accustomed to this pretty song thrust into his ears a few times a day - if not all day. Anything for a little entertainment in his captivity.

As you came down from your high against the giants tongue, you curled forward and slouched against his lips and nose. His tongue gave you a few lazy licks from ass to clit and back again to smear your slick over his to clean you. Slowly closing his lips, you felt the ridges of his smiling teeth below your spent cunt. Placing you on his upper lip, he steadied you while whispering softly up at you.

“Just you relax for a moment, little one,” he cooked at you, moving his hands over the buckles and furrs of his belt to unburden his cock from its confines, “Just you catch your breath.” He fished his achingly hard cock out of his pants and began to languidly stroke the engorged mass, smearing the precum over his shaft and chuckling as you recovered.

“We're going to have so much fun together.”

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady @jintaka-hane @thenotsofantasticlifestory @ane5e

[pinejayy]

╰➤Riding Them || One Piece

featuring: heat, wire, loki and katakuri // gn! reader!! but with female parts

a/n: time for part 4 of this series!! sorry about the long wait guys!! I’ve been feeling a bit down but I’m trying to write as much as possible!! hugs and kisses!! uwu // my writing may be lacking, it’s been awhile oof

summary: riding these beautiful one piece men because I’m whore when it comes to anime men. 😩😩 // part 1 ,, part 2 ,, part 3.

warnings: size difference, nsfw, dick riding, bottom! heat 👁️👄👁️, bondage, tongue riding loki,, fingering.

✦•·················• 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃!! •·················•✦

Heat

One of the more gentle kid pirates, especially when it comes to his partner and their intimate moments. And trust me this man is going to respect to the very end, and treat you as if you were made as glass. Your needs always come first in his eyes. So when you suggested to ride him he was surprised, he was usually in charge during sex, wanting to focus on your pleasure.

“You want to ride me?” He asked, his cheeks turning slightly pink at your words. And to which you nod, looking up at him. “Yes, tonight I want to focus on you alone and your pleasure alone.” You say, batting your eyes at him. “Only if you let me.” And he wanted to protest, but seeing your eyes and how you spoke to him made him hard…and all he could was nod. “Please..”

Once Heat’s back was against the bed, you dragged your tongue along his tattoos, giving him small kisses and love bites. Before stripping your clothes off, and helping him strip as well. “Such a good boyfriend, I’m going to ride you so good..” You whisper against his ear before sinking into his length. Whimpering at this new position, to which it took a few to catch your own breath. He was much bigger…much bigger.

Heat moans at your walls clenched around his cock, throwing his head back. “Fuck…so tight…” He groans, his hands immediately grabbing your hips. And soon you began to move your hips against his. The room was covered in your guys moans, he would grab your chest and squeeze them. “Mm Heat…so big..cock so good.”

Let’s just say the ship could hear you guys, Kid even told you guys to quote on quote to ‘shut the fuck up.’ . But after you’re done riding him he’ll do everything to treat you good. Good at aftercare. “Mm, maybe for next time we can try reverse cowgirl.”

Wire

Oh this man is very kinky, he loves whenever you ride him. At first you were intimidated by riding him because of his height and size of his cock, and of course it took a lot of begging and convincing until you said yes, but after that experience with him. It was one of your favorite positions with him.

Right now Wire had his back against the bed, both arms were tied to the headboard, and you look down at him. Sitting on his lap. “Mm can’t wait to ride your pretty cock…it’s so good.” You moan out. Leaning down and giving him a sloppy kiss against his neck. Making him shiver. “Hm.. I’m all yours darling”

And that’s all it took, you gave him a few strokes before positioning his cock to your entrance and slowly you sink down. Biting your lip “Always so big..” You moan out. He hissed in pleasure, but he still always had a smirk across his face. “Hmm well…what are you waiting for. Starting riding.” He said.

To which you nod and move against his hips, Wire just watches you. Watched how big his cock was, seeing the budge in your stomach. And despite him being tied down he was always in charge. “That’s right, you look so good riding me. Such a needy mess…does my cock fill you up good?” He asked, moving his hips upwards. To which you were a mumbling and moaning mess. “Wire..oh baby…Yes!” You moan out. He loved it whenever you were so needy, the way your mouth spills out dirty words. Or the way your body bounces against his. “Cock…fuck…good…”

And once you two cum, you’ll help him out of the ropes. And he would immediately want a round two. So you better buckle up. Because this man can last for hours…and he’ll make sure you’re not walking properly for the next week.

Loki

This man is definitely going to treat you as if you’re made of glass..he doesn’t want to hurt you. Considering you’re human…and well he’s a giant. One wrong move and it’s your life. But again you have needs and he wants to help you in any way. And of course his tongue came into the picture…it was such a lewd idea…but you wanted to feel it.

So Loki picked up your body, holding you against his fingers. Being so gentle… “Are you sure…about this dear?” He asked. “Yes..just don’t swallow me..” You joke around…and he couldn’t help but crack a slight smile. Slowly he held you above his mouth and sticks out his tongue. And once he placed you against his tongue you couldn’t help but shiver. It felt odd, but once he moved his tongue slightly you felt a wave of pleasure. “Loki…”

And once he heard your faint moan he couldn’t help but groan. He made sure to hold you above his tongue with one hand, while the other hand works on his cock. Stroking himself through his pants. “Darling…you taste quite divine…I didn’t know I could come across something so good..” He moans out. Earning a mumbling mess from you. “Ahh…fuck…”

And as time passes by, he slowly places you on his tongue. Being extra careful with you. And you moan and move against the wet muscle. And it didn’t take you that long to finish on the tip of his tongue. And before you know it Loki grabs you gently between his fingers and places you on the palm of his hand. And he smirks at your flustered face, the way you were panting as you laid on his palm.

Loki smirks. “I must say darling…we must do that again.” He said. And all you could was whimper and nod at his comment, which earned a small smirk from the giant.

Katakuri

He was very closed off to any ideas during sex, not because he didn’t find you attractive. It was because he didn’t want to hurt you…considering he was much taller than you..and this poor man was afraid of hurting you, he didn’t want you to run off. And of course it took a lot of convincing him…convincing of riding him and when he agreed to your idea you were jumping from joy.

But that’s when it came to that night…you were nervous and he wanted to help you in any way…first it started off with a make-out session, he made sure to be extra careful with his teeth. Soon he fingered you slowly trying to stretch you up..he definitely could tell you were nervous. “You don’t have too…” He said softly, as he looked above you. You were sitting on his lap. “It’s okay..I’ll be fine…I’ve taken you before.”

Katakuri helped you when you were on top of him. Helping you take his length. And once you did, he gave a moment to gather yourself. It took you a few minutes before you started to move slowly against him. He placed his hands on your hips. “You’re doing amazing Y/N…so amazing..” He moans under his breath. “Katakuri…you feel so good…as always.” You moaned softly.

The room was filled with softly and muffled moans, everytime you guys had your intimate moments you guys always made sure to keep it on the down low..he doesn’t need his siblings or his mother listening to your guys intimate moment. So you had to cover your mouth with your hand as you move your hips against his. “Oh Katakuri..”

Soon your movements were getting sloppy and quick…you were close. So he grabbed your hips and held you down and started to fuck you upwards. Moving his hips in a quick motion. Hitting the right spots. Making you moan against your mouth…and once you finish around him it didn’t take too long to fill you up. He’s definitely the king of aftercare, cleaning you off, grabbing you some water or a snack and also running you a warm bath.

[ninel251]

Sudden collab with my gf. She did the line and colours on my sketch. She also made me post it against my shame haha.

(>////<)

[aurora-sadprose]

put down that c.ai thing and read y/n fics like god intended.

[fricks]

"choso, did you just... cum?" ☆

you don't mean to sound accusatory but you're so caught off-guard that you can't help but ask. your not-yet boyfriend is sat beneath you with his eyes screwed shut and bottom lip still caught between his teeth.

he shakes his head no in such a quick manner that one of his hairties come loose. a rosy pink blushes his nose and cheeks and you can’t quite tell if it’s from embarrassment or the fact that he literally just came in his pants from kissing you.

you weren’t even grinding on him. sure, you were sat in his lap and were more than aware of the hardening bulge beneath you—but you’re so early in this relationship that you’re not even sure you can call him your boyfriend just yet, so you obviously weren’t going to address his boner regardless of how badly you wanted to feel his dick pulse against you.

okay so maybe you were grinding on him a little. chasing just enough friction to remind yourself of all the good things in life, like choso and his abnormally large cock that you hope to one day soon feel so deep it's practically in your stomach.

"i didn't," he lies poorly. "i just... sneezed."

"you didn't sneeze."

"i did, it was a silent one."

"like a silent fart?"

"no! god, just... i need a minute, okay? to clean up."

you sit down a little more firmly against choso's cock, which is still so rock hard that you almost wonder if he didn't actually cum in his pants. you know an orgasm when you see it, though, and the way choso basically moaned like a whore once he got a taste of your lips left nothing to the imagination. he came alright.

"you need to clean up your silent sneeze?" you tease him, pressing another kiss to the corner of his lips. "are you lying to me, cho?"

"will you break up with me if i say yes? i'm embarrassed." god he looks gorgeous with this hazy post-orgasm gloss to his eyes. his lips look swollen from your kisses, and you decide you want to keep him like this until he's old and grey and too fucked dumb to ever move.

"can we even break up? are we dating?" you ask, and drag your clothed cunt along the length of his sensitive cock for good measure. "you never asked to be my boyfriend."

choso looks offended. "but- but you just..."

"what, made you cum with a kiss? i've about earned the right to call you my boyfriend, right?"

he nods frantically and, without meaning to, bucks his hips up to meet yours a little better. you can feel all of him now, rock hard against your most sensitive spots even with a few layers of fabric between you. you wonder if lust-induced hypnosis is real and whether or not you're a victim of his wiles.

"it's settled then," you nod. "you want help cleaning up?"

"uhh..." choso hesitates. he didn't think becoming partnered meant sponge baths, though he doesnt think he'd deny you the opportunity, or himself the experience.

"a blowjob, choso. i want to clean you up. with my mouth. this is dirty talk."

choso blinks. "oh," he says. "then yes please."

[c-monthecob]

I don't get why people always complain about characters being romanticized in fanfiction. It's FAN-FICTION. Ofc the characters are gonna be painted in a different light to make them more likable!

Sometimes people like a lil realism🤷🏿‍♀️

For example, if you write something about a mentally unstable character with a body count higher than their age, let's be real.

They would not put you first. They would not kiss the ground you walk on. And to say they'd put a ring on your finger is a stretch.

This character is a terrible person.

And that's what some people wanna see.

[marwhoa]

request: Hi!! Can you do relationship headcanons on Ritsu Kasanoda please :)

🝮 ritsu kasanoda dating headcanons !!

ritsu kasandoda & reader

author’s note: wow i really just took the longest break imaginable and then came back with this. lmao, i hope someone enjoys reading this!!! thank you and gosh do i love Ritsu uwu

edit: i misspelled his name but it’s 4 am and I think that’s hilarious so I’mma leave it

word count: 1.8 k

ఌ Let’s be real, he’s trying his best. Really, so before your relationship began, he was DESPERATE to figure out how to woo you—how to sweep you off your feet!

ఌ He didn’t learn his lesson the first time with not asking the hosts for help. But, this is in the LOVE department! Surely they know better about that than they do about making him look less intimidating?? Who could possibly be better to turn to for hints at romance?

ఌ Unfortunately, it seems this rambunctious bunch of boys don’t take him seriously at all. Seems. Maybe they think they’re taking him super seriously, but it REALLY doesn’t look like it!

ఌ So, he begs that you forget having walked into the Third Music room—since abandoned by its department—only to have been bombarded by swirling roses that flew all around you. They framed a path that you swore was heart shaped, up to Ritsu, who kneeled in a host uniform, his signature nervous smile, and a rose held for you to take.

ఌ Cue a fit of giggles that may or may not have made him fall even deeper in love with you.

ఌ Best believe that he never turned to them again (okay, maybe Haruhi, but even her suggestions were questionable… Some of them were great, don’t get him wrong! Like, the star-gazing idea or the “ walk-in-a-park ” idea! But, the “ clean together! ” or “ attend-a-host-event ” ideas were downright rejected.)

ఌ Well, not entirely. You know those big fancy balls the Host club holds? Towards the start and end of the year? Well, with Haruhi leading the plan for obvious reasons, he mustered up the courage and invited you to the ball with him. Was that a fluttering in your heart~? Eek!

ఌ Was this going to be when he finally made a move? When your budding relationship finally bloomed?

ఌ The night was beautiful, from the delicacies, everyone’s pretty attire, all the way to the lighting. This really was a party held by the most elite of society’s children! Your outfit was a gorgeous scarlet—gifted to you by Kasanoda’s right hand man who simply smiled and asked kindly that you please wear it! You couldn’t decide which to focus on, how they got your measurements or why this was happening.

ఌ Of course, deep down you knew full and well why it’s happening, didn’t you?

ఌ Let’s rollback a few notches. Now, what could have possibly made him fall for you? Was it, maybe, your sitting by him in every class despite everyone else making a painfully obvious barrier between them and him given the empty chairs around him? Nooo, don’t be silly, it couldn’t be that.

ఌ Oh, was it you seeking him out during lunch time, finding him alone in the garden, eating and talking to the plants? No, surely that wasn’t why he stared at you with glossy, grateful eyes that said, “ Please, sit, I insist. ”

ఌ Hmm, maybe it’s because of how many times you walked home with him and held normal conversations with him, as if he wasn’t labeled the school’s “ Scariest Man Ever To Attend ”? No, couldn’t be that. It wasn’t like he loved and looked forward to the walks, so much so that he silently waited by the door for you to collect your things and trot on up beside him, telling him all about your day. And it definitely couldn’t have been that for once, he was walking with someone who wasn’t Tetsuya, and this person beside him didn’t give off any vibes of “ I’m being forced to hang out with you, as a joke! A prank! ”

ఌ Oh, I know, maybe all of this is happening because of the first time you two met outside of school. It was the weekend, and you were out in the neighborhood for a reason long since forgotten by now.

ఌ There was the sounds of a struggle down a street, and you, being you, couldn’t help but think, “ Hey, if someone’s in trouble, the right thing to do is help them? ”

ఌ So, imagine the fear on your face and stiffness in your body to peak down the alley and see a red-haired boy surrounded by several others. Totally unfair, you thought! That’s too many people for one person!

ఌ His back was to you, and you locked eyes with the man in the center as he pulled his arm back and yelled something about how much respect he’ll get for beating the son of THE Kasanoda-Gumi group!

ఌ No matter how much you knew about the neighborhood or the syndicates ‘round these parts, nothing could have prepared you for how fast your feet carried you between the two, chucking your bag into the man in the middle’s face, shutting him up instantly.

“ There’s no respect for a bully that teams up on a guy! “

ఌ You said with faux confidence. The man behind you could have sworn you looked just like a little wolf protecting him, baring your teeth at a bunch of men that he just had a feeling would tuck and run at your appearance.

ఌ And that they did, though whether it was your display of Justice, their boss’s bloody nose, or the rather demonic aura seeping out of the guy behind you—that was anyone’s guess, too 🤷‍♂️

“ Uh… Th.. Thanks, for that. “

ఌ When you turned to face your damsel-in-distress, the drastic difference between his voice and appearance took you off guard. A few giggles, a quick apology for the rudeness, and a “ no problem “ for the thank-you, and suddenly his face was almost flushed as red as his scarlet locks. Silence blanketed your both before you shrugged and past him.

ఌ Wait, he called.

ఌ You paused, halting in your tracks, and turned inquisitively.

ఌ He stammered then continued, would he ever see you again?

ఌ Silence.

ఌ A once over, you gave him.

ఌ Then a bright smile.

ఌ Of course, you laughed out.

ఌ After all, you continued, we go to the same school. A point to the badge on his bag, and suddenly he had to avoid eye-contact just to recover from the embarrassment.

ఌ The same school? His luck must have been turning around if he could see you again so soon.

ఌ And so, there’s no telling where he fell in love with you. Whether in between, during, before, after—or maybe even not yet!

ఌ Regardless, you held your head high, excited to step through the doors. You were greeted with what would begin a night you would never forget.

ఌ Folks you hadn’t yet placed names-to-faces-for guided you across the dance floor. Hand-in-hand, trading you off to the next person who swirled and dipped you. The first was a guy with auburn hair, mighty tall, you noted. He had mannerisms or a mischievous fox. Next was a man with black locks, taller than the last, and never speaking a word. You missed the smile in his eyes as you were passed to an eccentric blond with a blinding grin. He was quite the chatterbox during this dance, taking longer than the others, before a smaller brunet boy took your hand and scolded him with a, “ Senpai, you’ll ruin the plan! ” This boy had cute quirks and soft hands. The dance was simple, sweet, and kind.

ఌ It was towards the end that you caught a glimpse of red hair.

ఌ The next hand you were passed into was familiar and welcoming. Calloused, marked with a scar here and there. They seemed like thorny hands that would hurt whoever made contact, but somehow when it came to your hand, they were the kindest, gentlest.

ఌ Your eyes gazed up to catch a glimpse of that same-old nervous, nasty grin you fell for.

“ Another plan, huh, Ritsu dear? “

“ Dear? “

ఌ He stammered, repeating the pet name you tagged to the end of his name.

ఌ A squeak of surprise escaped you as he was thrown off so much so that his footwork changed to include a “ step-on-your-partner’s-foot! “

ఌ A dozen apologies later, and below the stars you were.

ఌ The loud crowd had mellowed out with distance, so much so that the soothing ballroom music was audible enough to drag a mewl of happiness from your lips.

ఌ You leaned into him, shifting this dance more so into a romantic slow dance.

ఌ This would have continued, turned even more romantic as the midnight sky poured over and over again, renewing the twinkle in each star!

ఌ But, alas, any plan by the host boys just had to have one little signature quirk in it.

ఌ Though whether you could fault the club or not for this was anyone’s guess!

ఌ From the bushes lining the balcony his dancing feet led you to, popped up an even more eccentric dirty-blonde girl who screeched a, “ Oh come on, kiss them already! What kind of romance is this!? A SUCKY one, of course! “

ఌ Had it not been for your laughter, this particular redhead might’ve melted from embarrassment.

ఌ Instead, he cupped your cheek and guided your eyes to him.

ఌ There was hesitance, a glance here and there, and his mouth opening and closing inaudibly like a fish outta water.

ఌ So, you pressed affectionately against his hand then slowly leaned in to plant a chaste kiss upon his lips.

ఌ They weren’t the softest in the world, and perhaps slightly rough (easily fixed with some lip balm!).

ఌ And surely there was evidence this was his first kiss, first REAL kiss, but the fireworks in your heart made none of that matter at all.

ఌ From then, word spread throughout the school much too quickly that the rumor of “ Ritsu and Y/N? Canon or Fanon? ” was completely canon.

ఌ Your reputation rubbed off on him, and suddenly he found himself with more friends and acquaintances than he ever dreamt of.

ఌ The empty seats around him were filled with talkative randos—though, if ever they say in your seat, he couldn’t help the intimidating glare shot at them.

ఌ Your life after school would become much more interesting too.

ఌ Apparently the guy you beamed with his bag had inflated and hyperbolized your image tremendously.

ఌ In the streets, you were gaining a strange name, “ The Rabid Wolf “.

ఌ Whatever that meant.

ఌ Ritsu worried about it, assuring you he would clear your name, but you laughed it off and said it could probably do more good than harm!

ఌ After all, he did have fears of people knowing you were his lover.

ఌ Partner.

ఌ Romantic acquaintance!

ఌ …

ఌ He may or may not have been rosy-hued in the cheeks when you showed up at the house one morning, to walk to school together, obviously!

ఌ And the house erupted in, “ Kasanoda, sir, your lover awaits at the door! ”

ఌ You pretended to have not heard the girlish screech before a disheveled, heavy-breathing Ritsu slammed open and closed the door.

ఌ That walk had been quiet, save for your running-of-the-mouth.

ఌ Oh, and any time you shied away from dominating the conversation so, he would break the silence and say, “ Go on? ”