⚔️ currently I don't write for any ships but when I do l'll tell you guys which ships.
⚔️ also I do my best to write all the readers/ocs so that anyone can relate but if you want me to write a story with the reader being POC just tell me when you request!
⚔️ also some of these fics will be dark since they involve homelander who as we know is a very dark character. so ill be putting warnings for those don’t worry.
I received a request for The Boys, Starlight cuckolding Hughie with Homelander, and while it’s not a kink I’m familiar with (or a fandom I’ve ever written for), well, in for a penny right? The Unbearable Effort of Balance, smut, heavy dubcon warning, passing mention of gore, angst.
I usually don’t do this, but: please reblog if you like what I’m writing.
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Tell him if you want. It doesn’t change anything about this, about the way your legs fall open at the touch of a glove, the way your ragged breaths shatter around what and why and listen. Listen.
Tell him if you want. But I don’t think you will. Don’t want to hurt him. Poor sweet little Hughie, fumbling weakly with your bra, breathing you in, trying to hold you like he could keep you.
Can’t keep what he never really had.
Because he can’t do this, can he,
Sweetheart. He can’t overwhelm you with the kind of too much that’s really just right. He’d look stupid in the suit, skinny, awkward. He wouldn’t,
he can’t do this. He can’t get you wet with sheer overwhelming masculine force, can’t make your head drop forward on his shoulder when you’re too far gone to hold it up. Maybe he could learn to please you with his hands since his dick is so goddamned skinny, but then again. Maybe what you need is a little less good boy and a little more man. And doesn’t that just burn you, how fucking shallow that is? You can tell yourself how much you just want a good man who loves you, but in the end what you really want in your heart of hearts, in that little wriggling black place deep down, is just to be really,
truly,
overwhelmingly fucked, til you forget your own name
but not mine, sweetheart. I want to hear my name like broken glass in your mouth. I know. I know. You don’t want it, not really. But you need it. And hell, I’ll make it easy on you. Do this, or I’ll kill him, leave him a greasy little Hughie-shaped smear on the pavement. It'd solve so many problems, but you'd cry, wouldn't you, and that just won't do. If you cry it's going to be because of me, knowing that I've ruined you for him, for anyone but me. Before this is over, sweetheart, I'll see you crying, though, when you realize what a spot you're in. When you realize
yeah, you really like it, and it's a problem. Homelander's an asshole, but he's virile, capable and skilled because as selfishly as he fucks, he wants you to feel good, to know that he's ruined you completely with pleasure as well as shame. And yeah, he wants you to go back to your boyfriend, to sweet innocent little Hughie, to feel him balls-deep inside you and know that no matter what he does, it'll never be as good as this. Sure, he can give you that little golden glow, but when's the last time he made you forget your own name? When's the last time he wore you out, really wrung you dry, till all you could do was sob and shake? Yeah,
that's what I thought.
And you can't just leave Hughie, not when he's the most reasonable person you know, and isn't that a joke? That he should bind you to him by virtue of how fucking mundane he is, by his soft and skinny ordinary-boy self, his worn-out band tees that feel so nice on your skin. No leather gloves with him, no fumbling with flaps and hidden buttons.
Fumbling, sure. Say it if you want. I'll take it out of your hide. You should know that if you feel good, it's because I want you to feel that way. I could just as easily just take what I wanted and leave you sticky and sobbing, unsatisfied. But then that wouldn't be any fun.
Fun?
Is it fun, for him? Or is it just another power play, something that’s become a reflex because he doesn’t know any other way to be? Maybe that’s it. He has strength, sure, and power, but control? Control is lacking. Not like it matters; he should know better, but it makes him so hard, doesn’t it, to see you under his heel. To see the way you try to hold yourself shut but end up with your legs over his shoulders anyway, moaning cheap and needy for him.
I could have anyone, and I chose you. Aren’t you special. Now show me how grateful you are. Come for me, sweetheart. Milk me dry.
And you do, because of course you do, because he pulls it from you whether you want it or not. It bursts all the bulbs in the lamps, and he smiles down at you amidst the shine of particulate glass.
⚔️ currently I don't write for any ships but when I do I'll tell you guys which ships.
⚔️ also I do my best to write all the readers /ocs so that anyone can relate but if you want me to write a story with the reader being POC just tell me when you request!
⚔️ also some of these fics will be dark since they involve homelander who as we know is a very dark character. so ill be putting warnings for those don't worry.
