#the deep x reader

[yandere-wishes]

・┆✦ʚ Had a few dreams about you, I can't tell you what we did ɞ✦ ┆・

⭒⌒★ Yandere!The Boys x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓎 𝓀𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒶𝓅 𝓎𝑜𝓊 ♡ ｡ ゜

๋ ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑It's such a shame it ended this way ࣭ ⭑๋ ࣭ ⭑

✮⋆˙ Homelander

He wasn't supposed to get this attached, he knows that. At first, it's easy to pretend, to wrap his arms around your waist and pull you close to whisper sophomoric quips into your ear so you'd squint throwing your head back and laughing, even though the dirt of the joke is lost on you. But that's the problem right there, that odious jovial laugh coupled with that eerie righteous gleam carved into your eyes. Your voice sounds like early morning birds and those housewives in old infomercials. Domestic, blissful, so utterly painfully innocent that it punctures his steel heart. You make it so hard not to fall in love.

According to the public -and Vought - you two are not quite lovers, but there's clearly something there, squirming below the surface, trying to break free. 'More than friends' is what they call you. It's what the public wants, a build-up, a love story they can watch unfold through their screens. The Golden Boy and the People's Sweetheart. But the error of it all itches under Homelander's skin. You are his lover, his darling, his whole damn world. He doesn't need the suckups and tyrants to tell him how and when he can love you. He already does, he's already crossed the line, gotten too attached.

The thoughts creep in, or rather invade, when he notices how your fans touch you, how those wretched mortals have the gall to slurp up gallons of your attention and love. You really are made for the people, aren't you? Not for him, never him.

No, he can't have that...

"You all right?" he asks vice grip on your body as he soars through the sky. You're tucked into his chest sniffling, tears dried out and pleas laying dead upon your tongue. He has you now, He'll never let you go. He's so high up one misstep and you'll plummet to your doom. Still, that's better than letting those insects lay a finger on you. He does this every time your fans ask for pictures, every time someone gets too close. He picks you up and flies away. But this time, this time he's going too far, flying too fast. You don't know where he's headed but you have a feeling you might never come back. "I love you," Homelander says, voice booming through the thick winds, "I can't...I can't let them have you, you belong to me. Besides what kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't keep my own darling safe?" the humor and technicality that you aren't 'really' dating it lost on you when you start to notice how cold it's gotten, how the ground is pitch white how the snowflakes land like doomed omes upon his golden hair...

"I'll keep you safe," He promises. "Far away from those disgusting, filthy mortals, and then once it's all burned down and built anew, I'll lay it all at your feet." His lips seal his promise, binding you as he lands on the tundra.

⋆˙⟡ Black Noir

Little hearts are dancing around your face as you nervously strangle a lock of hair around your finger. The hearts spin and swirl floating over to pivot around Black Noir's head. You look so adorable mulling over your costume changes, over the limited options Vought has bestowed upon you. You remind him of cartoon bunnies and fawns frolicking through evergreen forests hiding from cruel poachers and hunters. Forced into cages to be leered at

You plague him with lovelorn paralysis, too dazed to think straight to move, just replaying your voice in his head while scribbling your name across papers, love notes, and endless doodles of your essence. He draws you with fluffy ears and a cotton tail, draws himself -black wool and big sheepish eyes- saving the poor bunny from the monstrous masses. And maybe it's not just a fever dream, a relapse in reality. Maybe it can be true. He just has to pluck you away in the dead of night, fib a little tale about some supervillain having killed you. Vought will find a replacement, and you will be safe tucked away in his room. Forever his, his sweet little bunny.

𓆩♛𓆪 Queen Maeve

Her heart yearns for you. Aching from your mere smile, from the haunting sparkle in your eye under the right light. "I love you," she says, thousands upon thousands of times. But you never say it back, she's not meant for you to love, she can't belong to one person. But the world doesn't need to know, the people shouldn't get the right to choose her wishes. Do your bones ever sing for her? Maeve wonders. Hum her name between the marrow and plead for her firm touch.

It's savage the way she hauls you from your home, unbefitting someone who truly believes in freedom, unbefitting her epithet of 'Queen'. But it's the only way she knows how, instinct upon desperation. You're staring out the window, glaring at the stars as she kisses up your neck. Locked away forever with her, high above, hidden from the world's cruel gaze. You can belong to her forever, with no guilt and messy shards. Just you and her and the love clawing at her throat.

⋆𓆝 The Deep

He wants to watch you drown. Maybe that's not a thing to admit to someone. Especially someone you claim to love. To tell them, tenderly, while running your fingers over their bones and curves, that you want to watch the air slip out of their lungs, replaced with the gorgeous crystalline liquid of his essence. Deep watches as you push the glass to your lips, head tipped back, giving him the perfect view of your slender neck. He thinks it'd look better with his teeth marks and kisses marring your smooth skin. He thinks it would look better adorned with deep sea pearls and fingerprints.

He weighs your cheeks in his palms, pushing just enough to watch the pellucid tears ripple from your eyes. He has you caged, cornered in the dark of Vought Tower. Begging, pleading for you to stay with him, to be his. You once told him you feel like a shark, a great white, forced to live in a donut tank, and he couldn't help but understand every single word coming from your mouth. He won't be your tank, he swears, as he drags you up the emergency flight of stairs that eventually bleeds into the Seven's penthouse complex. No, he'll be your water, your ocean, aqueous salvation keeping you safe from every dreadful one and thing on dry land. You can drown for him, drawn in his enthrallment, in this desperate thing he calls "love". Drown in his kisses that feel like swallowing seas and starfish. Drown for him, belong to him, be his…

ঌ✦໒ A-train

When you glare at him he feels like spitting back. Shoving something sharp between your eyes, or cracking your skull on the pavement. He hates you, hates the way you make his heart beat faster than V fixes, hates how he needs to feel you close just to feel alive. But what he hates most is that you're always out of reach.

When he takes you, he leaves no room for argument. No room for reason. You're in the convenience store one-moment buying ice cream and Diet Coke. And the next you're high above the ground in a room with locked windows and doors. A-Train tries to reason, tries to apologize sheepishly for the crude "date" -as he calls it- blushing mess, charisma, and charm rotting in the pit of his stomach as he tries to kiss you, tries to hold your hands, and shows you how much he loves you. But that glare, that damn glare never leaves your gorgeous eyes. It's fine, it's cool, you'll learn to love him, you have nowhere else to go, you can't leave him now. Eventually, his love will catch up to you too.

⭑.ᐟ Soldier Boy

His love is so utterly cruel, all anger and radiation and gunpowder inhaled. He loves you he swears even when his kisses are all teeth and tongue and knife cuts. And at first, it's exhilarating being with the quintessence of heroics, the perfect man, the world's bravest. Old fashioned and rough around the edges, until those edges start drawing blood. Until he's ready to murder anyone who so much as looks at you. His excuses are plentiful, sweet, innocent thing like yourself knows nothing of the world's cruelties. Those people are evil they want to hurt you, hurt him, steal you away, and break you apart. And Ben just has to protect you, someone unmarred by the terrors and pains he's gone through, you're his sanctuary his Eden, he needs to keep you pure.

Whatever he's slipped you has made the lights throb and the walls spin. You thought it would be fun to drag him to a nightclub, to show him this century isn't so bad. But when he pulls you onto his lap, mouth on yours, slipping something round down your throat with his tongue, you start to realize this may have been a bad idea. He's cruel when he pushes you off his lap, laughing as you try to stand and fail. He coos in your ear, all patronizing synonyms of 'I told you so'. The next morning, you don't know where you are, just that you can't leave; he made sure of it. He has you locked away, hidden, and safe. And perfectly broken for him and only him.

ᯓ★ Starlight/ Annie January

She utters your name in absolute, little wish upon a star that someday you'll be hers. When Annie asks you to move in with her, she makes it sound like a covenant, like rehearsing a verse from a childhood dream. Be close to her, be with her, she's so sick of being alone, of being used. She needs someone to make the pain go away and mold her back into something resembling a human being.

She's a supernova on the brink of explosion and she knows it's a cruel fate to tie to you. But she can't help it, not when your lips are so soft and your eyes so innocent. Not when you remind her of why she even became Starlight in the first place. Her eyes flicker gold trying to imprint herself into you, so utterly terrified you'll leave her for another less broken girl. She can't have that, it sounds so callous to force this all upon you. To leave you locked away in her childhood home. But she has bruises that never healed right and eyes that have seen too much. And you're just a human, a human who holds her heart in the palm of your hand. She'll protect you, scare away supe and mortal so you'll forever remain in her arms.

⋆☾ Billy Butcher

He locked you away the moment he realised he loved you. The moment the shards fell into place and Billy woke up with your name on his tongue he knew he had to hide you away. He's meticulous about it, classic in the deed. Blind folds and gags, and reassuring words that are always too gruff to be comforting.

He treats you like a princess, wiping away your tears, kissing you as tenderly as he can. Makes you your favorite foods and buys you whatever your heart desires. Just don't break his rules, don't leave the house. Please! It's all he asks for, love. And should you ever succeed in running away. Well, Butcher has no claims against breaking your bones to keep you compliant, after all, he knows what the alternative is, and he knows what the world could do to you. In comparison, this is a mercy. So just be a good bird and let him take care of you. Alrigh' love?

˚꩜｡Hughie Campbell

Hughie never kidnaps you, not really, he doesn't have the heart to take your freedom away like that. But he's always too close, body pressed to yours. You can feel his heartbeat echoing within your bones, flesh-to-flesh exchanging traumas. He's so anxious all the time, worried and lovesick all in the same breath. His presence is your cage; you can never escape his closeness.

The first time Hughie kisses you, it tastes like guilt and dead butterly cacoones. Like a boy who's trying to understand who he is through you. His fingers squeeze the flesh of your arms, scared that you'll slip away. Be taken from him the moment his lips leave yours. You can almost call him sweet if he weren't so suffocating. Lost puppy boy who won't leave his favorite chew toy alone. Kicked one too many times by the cruel world to let you relive such a fate.

˚✿° Frenchie

It's a little too easy to love you. Not love at first sight or last sight, just a love whose seeds have festered deep within his blood, taking bloom every time you appear to assist on another suicide mission.

And maybe that's it, the thought of dying that makes you so appealing, like a bomb that is a fraction of a second from exploding. Frenchie thinks you're more weapon than human, all revolvers and demolition, all dying and surviving, and every oxymoron he can think of. Because the truth i,s you are a gun, a pistol, pointed blank at his heart, ready to shoot.

He's careful when he blows up your house, timing it perfectly so that you're far enough to remain unscathed but close enough to see everything. And he knows Butcher and Hughie can't really put you up. It's the problem with being vigilantes, you're always fleeing from safehouse to safehouse like famine-driven rats. But Frenchie has a place, and you're free to stay with him until you sort this whole mess out. Just help him out with his orders, with the modifications the clients need. He has you so close, and he promises he'll be so good, so tender, and doting. You would never want to leave! But should you ever decide to break his heart, to wander off, he has you chipped ready to find you and drag you back. Maybe this time he'll cuff you to the bed until you readjust.

[scariffs]

homelander, queen maeve, a-train, starlight, and the deep (the boys) with feminine, superpowered!reader. sfw but homelander is a pervert. you’re a new member of the seven, marketed by vought as their own sex symbol. this is very early s1 coded because #nostalgia. + masterlist.

. . . every power needs its own sex symbol. for hollywood, there was marilyn monroe. for music, there was madonna. even in video games, there’s lara croft. for vought, thanks to the death of translucent, there’s you, their newest, sexiest hero yet: miss minx. your outfit, if you could even call it that, was even skimpier than annie’s. your powers? more or less irrelevant to the higher-ups. you were scouted for your breasts, for your big smile and long eyelashes. you were scouted for public appeal, for twitter likes and nasty comments under instagram posts.

. . . homelander has no problem reminding you of why you’re on the seven in the first place. every time you act out, he tsks softly before bringing up how he can see your cleavage from a mile away. he gets a kick out of agitating you with this. you’re smarter than vought gives you credit for and both of you know it.

. . . the deep tries to pull the same stunts, but it never goes as well for him. unlike homelander, he’s someone you can take in a fight. he oscillates between wanting to fuck you and wanting to shame you, never quite picking a side.

“you know what?” he spits out one day while in the elevator with you. you turn to face him, arms crossed, and he scoffs. “you walk around like you’re a fucking princess, like your opinion means shit, but you’re really just a dirty little slut—”

your hand shoots out before he can finish his sentence, gripping his nose while you maintain eye contact. you can feel the cartilage squish beneath your fingers as you squeeze. more importantly (and to your amusement), you can hear kevin start to backtrack.

“ow— ow, fuck, ow ow—”

“shouldn’t have said that,” you taunt, dragging him by his nose to the back of the elevator. by the time the doors open, he’s got a face fill of red, his nose more than a little broken.

. . . you and maeve have… an interesting relationship, to say the least. she’s quick to criticize you for playing into vaught’s sick fantasy, only to roll her eyes when you point out she does the same. it doesn’t help that you’ve hooked up with her while drunk once or twice. maybe the whole sex symbol thing wasn’t that much of a stretch for you…

maeve glances at you mid-meeting before snorting. “is that glitter on your fucking lips?” she asks, leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. she looks every bit the warrior she is.

you smack your lips once or twice. “mmm. cherry flavored. want to taste?”

“fuck no,” she mutters, “stay over there. and keep your dick in your pants, kevin, even whores have standards.”

the deep scoffs, raising his arms in protest, “i didn’t even say anything this time!”

. . . a brief list of the themed pin up photoshoots you’ve done: baseball, tennis, race cars, kittens, doctors, wrestling, “office sirens” (thanks to whichever young intern suggested that), bikinis, american flags (your least favorite, possibly), princesses, playboy bunnies, motorcycles, military brats, and… many, many more.

. . . you and a-train are on decent enough terms, you think. though it’s not rare for him to join in on any lewd jokes homelander might make, he never goes out of his way to harass you. in fact, he can be pretty gentlemanly at times, holding the door for you and pulling out chairs. he’s your second favorite when you list your coworkers out.

. . . first place, of course, goes to starlight. annie. when she first saw you in your hero suit, she rushed to get you a jacket. it took multiple conversations for her to understand that you were (begrudgingly) okay with vought’s way of marketing you. she’s your biggest supporter and the first to partner with you whenever the situation calls for it. secretly? she’s grateful you’re on the team, showing skin. they’ve let her add a little more modesty to her outfit since you’ve joined the seven.

. . . homelander listens in to you changing. he listens in to nearly everything that happens at vought, just because he can, but he pays special attention when he sees you strolling into vought in your outside clothes. you walk over to the women’s room and he lingers on an opposite wall, hearing through concrete and plaster the sounds of you grunting and zipping, stripping down and then dolling up.

“you left out black noir” yes i did… i didn’t have any ideas for him, sorry </3. anyways i’m thinking of watching gen v, i never got to it when the boys was originally trending but maybe i will now bc s2 is out. not sure! also if ur from my old account you know this is lowkey my roots </3 returning home after a long time away.

[moon-dreamers-in-the-city]

threesome with black noir and the deep? 🤔 like on some Challengers Tashi art and Patrick shit perhaps?

TWO THOUGH? YOU KNOW…

paring: black noir II x reader x the deep

summary: You were an employee at Vought, nothing less nothing more. But you managed to capture the eyes of the two stupidest men in The Seven, leading you three to a very productive night at The Deep’s place.

wordcount: 1.5k

tags/warning: threesome, smut without plot, MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI, reader has a vagina, otherwise no pronouns/gender used, double penetration, penetrative sex, subby noir and deep (I think my type in men is obvious), dom!reader, insults, internalized homophobia?, they take turns kissing you, you make them kiss each other like barbie dolls, noir II being interrupted like seven times, polyamory??, not proofread

AN: never watched that movie, but I’m assuming it’s the one that was so good it got someone pregnant? hope this was good enough for you though! My first time writing pure smut or a threesome, kinda experimenting with my writing here

You were just an employee at Vought. Barely noticeable, one of the few workers in the crime department after Deep took over and randomly fired everyone that spoke badly of homelander.

But that didn’t stop the two members of The Seven eyeing you. Of course, you couldn’t just ignore that—so you decided to let some steam off by spending a night with them at your boss’s place.

And you had them right where you wanted.

Or, they had you where they wanted by fucking the brains out of you. Same thing.

Your sweaty back was pressed against the hard metal chest plate of Noir’s, and your chest was against Deep’s horribly textured suit of his—irritating you while they were thrusting in and out of you, fingers uncomfortably digging into his shoulders.

Deep’s gloved hands held your shaking legs around his hips, while Noir’s hands were wrapped around your waist—leaving dents onto your skin by how tightly he was holding you. “Why—why so quiet?” Deep utters out, not even really all there with how warmly your cunt’s walls squeeze around his throbbing cock.

“Mmm.“ Humming, you roll your eyes and not in a pleasured way. “Maybe if you got rid of that fuckass shirt that’s scraping off layers of my skin, I’d make some noise!” You retort, groaning when Noir hit deep—head falling back onto his shoulders, bringing him more attention as one of your hands leave the other’s shoulder and went down to intertwine your fingers with those leather covered ones.

“I fucking told you why I don’t remove my shir—“ Deep pauses his yapping and thrusting when he sees you pull Noir’s balaclava up, leaning your neck even further back as he kisses down the side of your already bitten and bruised neck—slowly moving his hips inside of you as breathy sighs of pleasure leave your lips. “What the fuck, man? Leaving me out of this…“

He pouts, sad eyes looking down at your neck. And Noir’s lips, thinking they should be on his neck instead.

No, he should start kissing your neck too so it evens out the gay thoughts.

Deep grabs your legs tighter around his waist as he starts fucking into you again, feeling his soft lips suck onto your throat and teeth gently biting it—whining as their kisses and affection attacked your neck, your fingers caressing the man’s brunette hair.

“Bro,” Noir says, his voice muffled against your neck. “Isn’t this.. kinda gay? Our lips are right next to each other.” Deep shrugs, continuing to bite and suck at your skin. “Not if we’re wearing socks. You wearing your socks, bro?”

Before Noir could even respond, you interrupt. “Your balls are slapping each other, and somehow that’s not gay?” A half hearted laugh leaves your mouth, shaking your head. “Just shut the fuck up, and kiss me already.” Deep immediately pulls away from your neck, not wasting the chance to kiss you first as his tongue slides against yours—whimpers leaving his mouth. You tug his hair as he whines into your mouth even louder, and you suddenly feel Noir throbbing even harder than before. Wonder what that could be about, huh?

As you and Deep ate at each other’s mouths like animals, saliva dripping off of the two of you’s chins—Noir kept kissing your neck, thrusting into you and banging that spot over and over again, leaving Deep swallow your moans as you got close. You pulled away from the kiss, half lidded eyes staring into those dark blue ones. Leaning back against Noir, about to wipe the Deep’s spit stuck onto your lips, until Noir grabbed your chin and met your lips with his—the kiss eager yet mannered.

He drank up and swallowed your mewls as though it were honey, tongues dancing and intertwining—tasting Deep’s tongue on yours. As your hand lowered down, about to reach your clit—he removes his glove, placing his hand on top of yours, rubbing your clit as you felt a pleasing sting in your spine—arching your back as Deep slammed into your pussy, feeling shaking legs squeezing tightly around his hips.

Leaving the kiss, your heated face was buried into Deep’s neck. breathing in his scent and taking in the utter pleasure after a few hours of guiding these idiots on how to please you. Which gave Noir and Deep a moment for themselves… even if they were inside you.

Deep’s eyes shifted from your face twisting in pleasure to down to your cunt, where he was filling you and Noir’s fingers was giving you the best stimulation of your life probably. “You’ve… got some nice fingers, bro.” Deep breathes out, voice shaky as he was nearing his climax as well. He looks into that soulless, black visor and wonders if his eyes were just as beautiful and brown like the previous one’s. And that the rest of him wasn’t as ugly.

“Dude, you’re being really gay right now.” Noir states the obvious, and Deep just shakes his head. “Nah, you’re not fingering me. So it’s not homo.” He disagreed as he thrusted into your cunt so deep—nearly hitting your sweet spot as another moan left you. Meanwhile Noir was shocked underneath the mask which was pulled back down after kissing you, wondering where the fuck Deep got the idea of fingering from.

“Does this look like fingering to your dumbass?” Noir shakes his head, continuing to rub and twist your clit as he thrusted into you from behind. He’s wondering how their blabbering hasn’t turned you off already. “I don’t know, bro. Does it look like I have a pussy? I’m no gynecologist.”

“What are you even talking abou—“

“Hey, since you two bitches keep talking about what’s gay and not—why don’t ya kiss right in front of me for good measure?” You pull your head from Deep’s shoulder, a tired sigh leaving your mouth as your words made them stop their movements.

“…You’re being serious?” Noir asks in that stupid confused tone of his.

You nod, glancing back at him. “While fucking the shit out of me.”

They glance at each other, Noir gulping before pulling up his balaclava back to his nose again. Well, at least the Deep looked.. pretty. “No homo, bro.” He says, as if it’d make this any less gay. “Man, shut the fuck u—“ Noir groans before being silenced with those lips pressed against his, feeling his short stubble scratch against his skin. But he couldn’t stop, and he… didn’t want to.

Noir leaves a gloved hand from your waist, going up to cup Deep’s face—though still teasing your hardened clit with his other one. Deep moans, muffled by the other man currently ravaging his mouth as he thrusted into you—fingers digging into your legs and causing marks. You were thoroughly enjoying until you realized Noir wasn’t moving his ass. Raising a hand and slapping his hip, he started moving his hips and drilled into you orderly—sounds of skin slapping skin, breathy moans echoing throughout the bedroom. Homelander must have a gun through his ears right now.

Deep tilted his head, pulling away slightly, “You taste so good, man—” He huffs, their noses touching. “Don’t stop,” Noir pulls back onto his lips, his hand leaving his face with his fingers gently squeezing his neck—the other man smiling into the kiss as he whined like he was the one getting fucked. Burying your face into Deep’s shoulder, teeth biting into the skin and arms wrapped around his shoulders. You feel a shiver down your body as Deep carved his hips into your pussy, finally hitting your sweet spot, leaving you arch your back and—

…

You wipe your eyes, about to sit up from the bed but felt two strong arms and a heavy weighted blanket basically holding you down. Blinking your eyes you see a naked Deep on your left and a naked Noir with his mask still pulled up till his nose—both of them cuddled up next to you. Huh, you must’ve been dreaming about the night you just had.

You lay yourself back down on the bed, snuggling up with the two idiots.

You gotta do this again sometime…

thank you so much for reading! reblogs and comments are utmost appreciated <3

[al3xisnobody]

might have to start reading x reader fanfics again, feeling lonely

[dqrkhold]

𝐖𝐚𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐨 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩

𝐊𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐨𝐬𝐤𝐨𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐳 𝐱 𝐌!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : You show up at Kevin’s place like you usually do—what started as a simple, no-strings hookup arrangement. But lately things have been shifting. Kevin has been texting more often and finding excuses to see you, hinting that he wants more than just the occasional hookup. | drabble + porn with plot

𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 + 𝐅𝐃𝐍𝐈 mature content below.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : Smut, Dom!Male!Reader, Fluff, Sub!Kevin, Moaning, Praising, Throat Fucking, Blowjob, M!Reader (Receiving), Swearing, Explicit Content, Cum, Dirty Talk.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭

You'd shown up unannounced, like always. No strings, no drama—just a mutual agreement. But lately, Kevin's texts had come more often, excuses that felt less like booty calls and more like invitations. Kevin had been waiting, his eyes lighting up the second you stepped through the door.“Hey, man,” he said, as he closed the distance, hands already reaching for your belt. “Couldn't stay away, huh?” You just shook your head, pulling him closer, your fingers tangling in his hair as his knees hit the floor. He worked your jeans open with, shoving them down along with your boxers. Your cock sprang free, already half-hard from the anticipation. Kevin's breath hitched, his gaze locking onto it like it was his first time ever seeing it. “Fuck, you're always so ready for me,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around the base, giving it a slow, firm stroke that made your hips buck. You leaned back against the edge of his massive fish tank, the glass cool against your skin, watching as he leaned in. His tongue flicked out first, lapping at the bead of pre-cum already leaking from your tip. “Taste so fucking good,” he groaned, the words vibrating against your cock before he parted his lips and took you in. He took you down further, cheeks hollowing as he worked more of your cock inside. You could feel the scrape of his teeth—just enough to send sparks up your spine—before he relaxed his jaw and pushed deeper, gagging slightly when you hit the back of his throat.

“Yeah, just like that,” you rasped, your hand tightening in his hair, guiding his rhythm. He hummed in response, the vibration shooting straight to your core, making your balls tighten. Kevin pulled back with a wet pop, strings of saliva connecting his lips to your glistening cock. “You like when I choke on it? Makes me so fucking hard just hearing you moan.” His free hand palmed his own bulge through his trunks, but his focus stayed on you, eyes flicking up to meet yours with that intense, unspoken hunger. He dove back in, sucking harder now, his head moving faster as he hollowed his cheeks and slurped noisily. Spit dripped down your shaft, coating his fingers as he jerked the base in time with his mouth. You thrust shallowly, fucking his face, the sounds obscene—wet smacks and muffled groans filling the room. “Deeper, Kevin—take it all,” you demanded, and he did, relaxing his throat until his nose brushed your pubes, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes from the effort. The pressure built fast, your abs clenching as the heat coiled low in your gut. “I'm close—gonna cum,” you warned, but he didn't pull away. Instead, he redoubled his efforts, sucking like he was starving for it, one hand cupping your balls and rolling them gently. “Do it,” he gasped around your cock, pulling off just enough to speak before plunging back down. “Cum for me—want it all over me.” That did it. Your release hit like a wave, your cock pulsing as ropes of thick cum shot out. You yanked back at the last second, aiming for his face, painting his cheeks and lips with hot spurts. The first jet landed across his nose, dripping down to his open mouth; the next splashed over his chin, mixing with the saliva already there. He kept his eyes open, locked on yours, a low moan escaping as more cum streaked his skin—white and sticky against his flushed face.

Panting, you milked the last drops onto his tongue as he stuck it out, catching what he could. Kevin licked at his lips immediately, his tongue darting out to swipe up the mess on his mouth, savoring the salty taste with a satisfied hum. “Mmm, so much,” he said, voice rough, as he dragged his fingers through the cum on his cheek and sucked them clean, not missing a drop. He tilted his head, lapping at the streaks on his chin with broad, deliberate strokes, his eyes never leaving yours. There was a flicker there—something deeper than the usual post-fuck haze, like he was memorizing the moment, holding onto it. You caught your breath, zipping up as he rose to his feet, wiping the remnants with the back of his hand but leaving a faint sheen behind. “That was intense,” he said softly, stepping closer, his hand lingering on your arm a beat too long. “We should... do this more. Like, not just when we're horny.” His words hung in the air, casual but loaded, the first crack in the no-strings facade he'd been clinging to.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ~@magicstarbits @capsicleforever @loverclear @gayaristocrat @godjustkys @sluttyhusband @carnalcrows @amor-xoxo @loverboyisaac @gayaristocrat @manlover0729 @cronasluvr @celestiallightking @spnfanboy777 @elreystories @billyloveworld88

© 𝐃𝐪𝐫𝐤𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟔

[jamesdeanbby]

x fem reader ୨୧ ִ ࣪ ⋆ kevin moskowitz on the issue of being a slut

character featured. kevin moskowitx / the deep .ᐟ + sub.ᐟ deep rating: mature.ᐟ

requesting rules. masterlist.

The bedroom smells like salt spray and want.

Not the clean, ocean-brine scent Kevin talks about in interviews, the one he uses to sell his brand of eco-friendly masculinity. No. This is the raw, animal version of it—sweat-slick skin, the faint metallic tang of lube, and the heavier, muskier scent of him. He's face-down on the ruined sheets, his broad, pale back a landscape of tension and surrender, his ass in the air exactly the way you put him there twenty minutes ago. Twenty minutes. Three orgasms. He's still asking for more.

"Pleaseee" he whimpers into the pillow, the word muffled but no less desperate. "Please, please, please, please."

You're behind him, seated on your heels, the harness fitting snug against your hips, the toy still slick from the last round. You haven't moved in a full minute. Just watching. Letting the silence do the work. His fingers are clawing at the mattress, those strong, swimmer's hands that could probably crush a crab to pulp reduced to trembling, useless things. He's trying to push back, to find you, to impale himself again on something that isn't there.

"Uh-uh." Your voice is syrup. Thick, golden, cloying. You run a single fingertip down the curve of his spine, from the top of his shoulder blades to the dimples just above his tailbone. "What do we say, baby?"

He shudders. Actually shudders, a full-body ripple that makes his thighs clench. "Please," he gasps again, then shakes his head against the pillow, correcting himself. "Please, ma'am. Please, I—I need-"

"Need what?" You coo the words, sweet as honey, soft as a lullaby. "Use your words, sweet boy. You can do that for me, can't you? You're not just a dumb little hole, are you?"

The degradation hits him like a physical thing, but your tone is so gentle, so fond, that his brain fizzles. He blinks, eyes unfocused, mouth hanging open. For a second, he forgets what he was going to say. Dumb little hole. You said it so nicely. Like a pet name. Like honey or darling. His cock, already softening and oversensitive from the last time he came untouched, gives a pathetic twitch against the sheets.

"N-no..?" he stammers, not even sure what he's denying. "I'm not. I'm not dumb. I just— I need you in me. Please. I'll be good. I'll be so good. Just fuck me again. Please. I'll take it. I'll take anything."

He's babbling now. The Deep, Kevin Moskowitz, is reduced to this. A whining, leaking mess with his ass in the air, begging for it like a bitch in heat. And you haven't even touched him yet.

You lean forward, letting your chest press against his back, your lips brush the shell of his ear. "Anything?" you whisper. "That's a big word for such a little slut."

He moans. Actually moans, high and cracked, his hips bucking backward into empty air. "Yes. Yes, that. I'm that. I'm your slut. Your little slut. Please-"

"You are." you agree, still in that same sweet, syrupy register. "You're my pathetic little cocksleeve, aren't you? Just something warm and wet for me to use." You reach around and grab a handful of his hair—not hard, just enough to tilt his head back, to make him gasp. "That's all you're good for right now, isn't it, baby?"

His eyes are glazed. Tears cling to his lashes. He nods as best he can with your grip in his hair. "Yes. Yes, ma'am. That's all. Just for you. Only for you."

"There we go." You release his hair and pat his cheek twice, condescendingly soft. "Good boy. Good fucking boy."

And then you sink into him.

No warning. No slow tease. Just the blunt, unrelenting press of the toy, buried to the hilt in one fluid motion. His whole body locks up—back arching, toes curling, a sound punched out of his chest. He's so loose from the previous rounds, so ready, that there's no resistance. Just heat. Just tight, silky heat that clenches around you like he's trying to swallow you whole.

"Fuck," he wheezes, the word cracking in the middle. "Fuck, fuck, fuck—"

You don't move. Just let him feel the fullness, the stretch, the pressure of being completely stuffed. Let him squirm. Let his hips make those tiny, aborted circles as he tries to get friction, to get anything.

"Shh," you murmur, and it's so sweet it could rot teeth. "Shh, baby. I know. I know you want it. But we go at my pace, don't we?"

"Yes," he chokes out. "Yes, your pace. Your pace. Just- please move. I'll be good. I'll be so still. Just move, ma'am, pleaseee"

You pull out slow. Torture-slow. Inch by inch, letting him feel every ridge, every millimeter of drag. He's whimpering now, a constant, broken stream of "no no no no no"s as you retreat, his body trying to follow you, to keep you inside.

Then you slam back in.

His elbows buckle. He goes face-first into the pillow. He doesn't care. He just pushes his ass higher, spreads his knees wider, offers himself up like a sacrifice on an altar. And you take. You set a rhythm: not kind, not gentle, but deliberate. Deep, grinding strokes that hit that spot inside him that makes his legs shake. You fuck him like he's yours. Because he is.

"Listen to you." you coo, and your voice is still that same sickly-sweet honey, even as you drive into him hard enough to rock the bed. "Listen to those noises. You sound like a whore, Kevin. A cheap, desperate whore. Is that what you are?"

"Yes," he sobs into the pillow. "Yes, yes, yes—"

"You'd let anyone do this, wouldn't you?" you continue, never breaking the sweetness. "If I wasn't here. If anyone bent you over. You'd spread your legs like a good little bitch."

The words should hurt. They should sting. But your tone is so soft, so coddling, that his brain translates it as praise. He nods frantically, drool slicking the corner of his mouth. "Anyone," he agrees, not even hearing himself. "Anyone. I don't care. Just want to be filled. Just want to be used—"

"God, you're pathetic." You say it like you're telling him he's pretty. You speed up, snapping your hips harder, faster, the wet sounds of the act filling the room. "Look at you. Face down, ass up, crying for it. The Deep. Hero of the Seven. And you're nothing but a hole for me, aren't you?"

You thrust slow. Deliberate. Dragging it out until he makes a broken little noise in the back of his throat.

“If I wasn’t here..” you continue, sweet as pie, sweet as poison. “and someone else came along. Anyone. Some random in a bar. Some fan.” You laugh, soft and warm against his ear. “Hell, if someone bent you over the edge of the stage during a press conference, you’d just spread your legs for them, wouldn’t you? Right there on live TV. Cameras rolling. Wouldn’t even care who saw.”

Kevin lets out a noise like he’s been electrocuted. His whole body goes rigid for a second—and then he melts, all that tension collapsing into something wet and desperate, his hips pushing back against you even harder than before.

“Oh, God-” he whines.

“You would.” you say, still so sweet, still so gentle. Like you’re telling him he did a good job tying his shoes. “You’d just think about how good it would feel and your brain would turn off. Legs wide open. Back arched just like this. Drooling on the carpet while some stranger—”

“Stop.” he whines, but his cock is leaking all over the sheets, and he’s so hard it looks painful, and he’s grinding back onto you like his life depends on it.

“Stop?” You tilt your head, smiling even though he can’t see it. He can hear it in your voice, though. That’s what breaks him. That’s what always breaks him. “But you’re so wet for it, baby. You’re literally dripping. You think with your dick so much I’m surprised you can form sentences at all.”

He can’t, actually. Not really. Not anymore. Now he’s just a mess of need and noise, moaning every time you bottom out, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes and running down his nose.

You swipe one away with your thumb, then bring it to his lips. “Open.”

He opens. He sucks your thumb into his mouth like it’s the only thing keeping him alive, eyes glassy and unfocused. You pull your thumb out and replace it with two fingers, pushing them past his slack lips, pressing down on his tongue. He gags a little, but he doesn’t pull away. Of course he doesn’t. He just moans around your fingers and lets his eyes flutter shut.

“Pathetic..” you say, and your voice is so tender that it takes him a full three seconds to even register the word. When he does, his hips stutter. His cock twitches. “In the best way, baby. You’re so pathetic for me. Look at you. Face down, ass up, crying because you can’t get enough. You’d let me do this all night, wouldn’t you?”

He pulls his mouth off your fingers just long enough to whimper, “All night. All night-”

“Yeah, baby.“ You press a kiss to the back of his neck, right between his shoulder blades, and he shudders like you’ve branded him. “'Cause I’m not even close to being done with you. You’ve got so much more to give me, right? You’re not empty yet.”

“No-” he agrees instantly, desperately, even though he’s already come until he’s dry, even though his balls ache and his thighs are soaked and every nerve in his body is screaming. “No, I’m not, I can—I can go again, I can-”

“I know you can.” Another kiss. Another sweet, gentle thrust that makes him sob. “That’s why you’re mine, isn’t it? Because you’ll just keep going and going and going until there’s nothing left. Until you’re just a hole for me to use.”

His whole body convulses. For a second you think he might actually pass out—his eyes roll back so far only the whites show, his mouth hanging open, a long string of drool stretching from his lip to the pillow. But he doesn't, he just lets out a teary whine that sounds like it's been pulled from inside his ribs. He's beyond words now. Just noises. Just the wet slap of skin, the creak of the bed, and his own wrecked, keening gasps. You feel him clench around you, that telltale flutter that means he's close—again, again, even though you've already wrung him dry.

"You want to come?" you ask, and it's the sweetest question you've asked all night. "You want to make a mess, baby?"

"Yes-" he begs, the word shredded. "Yesyesyes- please. Can I? Can I come? I'll be good. I'll be so good. Just lemme—please, please-"

"Then do it." You lean down, press a kiss to the back of his sweaty neck, gentle as a lover. "Come for me, you pathetic fucking slut. Show me what a mess you are."

That's all it takes.

He comes with a broken moan that he chokes on, his whole body convulsing, nothing but a few dry, desperate spasms left in him. His hands grip the sheets so hard his knuckles go white. And you keep fucking him through it, slow and deep, working him through the aftershocks until he's a boneless, trembling puddle beneath you.

Only then do you stop. Only then do you pull out, slow and careful, watching him shiver at the loss.

He doesn't move. Can't move. Just lies there, face-down, ass still slightly raised, breathing in ragged, hiccupping gasps. His eyes are closed, his lips parted, a thin line of drool connecting his mouth to the pillow.

You lean over him, brush his sweat-damp hair off his forehead, and press another kiss there. Sweet. Almost chaste.

"Good boy," you whisper. "That's my good little whore."

You pat his ass once: sharp, affectionate, and reach for the towel.

He'll be ready again in ten minutes. He always is.

[barleyo]

The Deep as your porn addicted boyfriend.

A/N: this has been on my mind all week... and deep isn't even my favorite character!! i hope this reaches some of his fans though. please enjoy!

Tags: headcanons, dub-con, overstim, p in v, coercion, oral (m receiving), slight watersports, choking and breathplay

Wordcount: 1k

Porn-brained Deep who refuses to ever use lube. 

He doesn't believe in it, thinks it's a crutch, that it's insulting. "We don't need that, babe. I can get you wet enough by myself," he would say, giving your clit a smack. He would spit all over your pussy, just like they do in the dirty films he loses himself in at night. 

When he finally aligns himself with your cunt and shoves his way in, he groans at the resistance. "Give it a second," he would say through clenched teeth, eyebrows pinching together. He fucks into you anyways, ignoring your pained whines. Once you adjust to his size and give up on trying to get him to stop, your body relaxes just a bit and your pussy forms a precious little creamy ring around his cock, slicking him up nice and good. "What'd I say, huh? Always getting wet for me."

Porn-brained Deep who grows obsessed with the idea of choking you during sex. 

The girls in the videos he watches love it, so he tries it without warning. At first, his hand just wraps around your throat enough to hold you in place, keeping you anchored against the bed while he pummels his cock into you. 

Unfortunately, he did zero actual research on safe breathplay and pushes down further on your throat, nearly crushing your windpipe. He sees the way you squirm and assumes it's because of how much you love it, so he adds his other hand, stupidly unaware of how strong he actually is. 

"Fuck, your face is getting so red, baby. Must really like this." He shoves his tongue into your breathless mouth, stealing what little bit of air you have left. "Didn't know you were such a freak."

Porn-brained Deep who is personally offended when you can't squirt for him. 

He takes it as a slight against him, as if he isn't fucking you well enough. He thinks squirting is just the female equivalent of ejaculating, so when you tell him you came but he didn't see you squirt, he thinks you're lying to save his feelings and he doesn't like that one bit.

He's folded your legs to your chest, pushing them the farthest they can go. One hand is planted on your lower belly, pushing down on where his cock is hitting, and the other is abusing your clit. "I'm not fucking pathetic, I don't need you to lie to me. I can make you cum whenever I want," he would say, mostly to himself, as you are a lost cause—nothing but a sobbing mess at this point. 

"Can't do it anymore," you managed to shriek, feeling your eighth orgasm creep down your spine. It's not enough for him. It's not real if he can't see it. "Please, no more! F—fuck!"

He clamps his hand over your mouth to shut you up and lifts your lower body up with his other hand. This angle lets him hit even deeper, abusing the spot that aches for him. He's also managing to hit your bladder, too, though, and with each thrust, little sprays of piss leak out of your sore cunt. 

"That's it," he would goad, pulling his dick out and smacking it against your sopping pussy. "You're gonna keep fuckin' squirting for me until I'm done. You've been holding out on me."

Porn-brained Deep who treats you like a doll.

He moves you in any position he wants, pulling and shoving you like you're weightless. If he wants you face down and ass up, then that's how he'll maneuver you. He rips your legs apart without a care, sliding himself between your thighs like it's his rightful place. 

"Take it," he would coo. "Every inch, now. Don't squeeze me out."

He's rooted behind you, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, slamming into you at a murderous pace. When you try to catch your breath and lift your head, he smothers your face back into the pillow, using his foot on the back of your head. 

He degrades you physically and praises you verbally, giving you whiplash and keeping you dizzy, drenched, and dumb on his cock.

Porn-brained Deep who doesn't let you swallow his cum. 

When you blow him, he refuses to let you swallow. That's too clean, he wants you messy. 

Sometimes, he makes you slowly drool it out so he can watch it pool down your neck and chest. 

Sometimes, he wants you to blow bubbles with it, drooling over his balls and slicking them up with his own diluted cum. 

Sometimes, he kisses you right after and steals his own cum from your mouth, swishing it around with his saliva before spitting it back out onto your face with a dazed smirk. 

Most of the time, though, he takes hold of your hand, brings it to your own mouth, and tells you to spit. He lets go of your wrist and nods. You know exactly what to do.

You bring the messy hand to your cunt and smear it all over, coating your folds with his cum. 

"Don't forget—yeah, good," he would hum, watching you shove your cum covered fingers into your hole. "Good girl, that's right. Fuck it back inside."

Porn-brained Deep who forces you to watch videos with him.

"See that? Don't you wanna be a nasty girl just like her?"

Cum funnels, gangbangs, anal, double penetration, all of it. Anything sick, perverted, or icky is his holy grail. 

He slowly pets your pussy, mentally taking note of which scenes make your panties wetter and which ones make your clit throb under his touch. When a video of a woman tied up to the bed pops up, a vibrator assaulting her helpless cunt, he feels your pussy twitch. 

"Yeah?" He looks over at you, an eyebrow raised. "You like that?" He rubs you more purposefully, focusing on your swollen clit. 

"I guess my baby's getting to be just as gross as I am, huh?"

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)