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bb-homelander · 9 months ago

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The Dark of Sleep

18+ 3k homelander x reader. no pronouns, no y/n. established relationship, angst, referenced child abuse, referenced sleep deprivation, insomnia, lactation/nursing (no pregnancy referenced), somnophilia, sleepy comfort sex, cream pie, cock warming.

Homelander wakes from a nightmare and seeks comfort in your ever welcoming arms, not minding that you haven't quite woken yet.

Settling has never been an option for Homelander. He has always needed someone who is fierce and will love him until death, who will be on his side no matter the shadow that befalls it. Someone who will destroy and be destroyed by him. He has always needed you.

Homelander doesn't sleep well.

Vought was always testing the boundaries of how human he really was. There came a time when he was a boy they began to reduce his sleep by an hour every few nights. Each day they would repeat the same grueling tests to see at what point the lack began to affect not only his cognitive abilities, but his powers. Given the sheer amount of Compound V in his system, there were some who wondered if he really needed to sleep at all.

It would have been miraculous if he didn’t. It would be one more aspect of his perfect design that they could pat themselves on the back for.

Unfortunately for both him and them, it was not so.

When they realized the deprivation did affect him, they wanted to understand how badly. They continued the deprivation until they had reduced his sleep to nothing at all, keeping him awake by any means necessary. He begged for sleep.

It’s a marathon, John, Vogelbaum told him. Eleven days. That’s the record for a human. You can beat that, can’t’cha, tiger?

Tiger. It always made him feel stronger when Jonah called him that.

Ultimately it was less about his perseverance and more about his endurance. He didn’t have much choice in the matter of whether or not he would fall asleep. Every time he started to doze off, an alarm would blare in his room, startling him back awake. I’m sorry, he would sob, riddled with guilt for the perceived failure.

There was never any answer.

His memories of that particular stretch of time are few and far between. He knows that on the fifth day, he started hallucinating. Only then did they finally allow him to sleep, realizing that–in his delirium–he could potentially destroy the facility if they didn’t.

Ever since those experiments, he’s had difficulty falling asleep. Guilt worms its way into his stomach each night, a cold dread that builds the closer he gets to a doze. He never entirely got over the feeling of disappointment that came with the revelation he was indeed afflicted with this little aspect of humanity. The scientists had seemed so excited by the prospect that he wouldn’t be.

He often wishes he wasn’t. The guilt is nothing compared to the nightmares that precede it.

Things began to change when you entered the picture. Unlike him, you love to sleep. He’d begun to think you might suffer from low grade narcolepsy with how easily you fall into it. Any time you’re being driven in a warm car, snuggled against his side watching television, or you’ve simply been stationary too long, you start to doze off with an ease that he’s never known.

It’s just really easy to sleep when I feel safe, you told him when he called you on it. I feel safe with you.

He had no choice but to kiss you senseless for that.

The time he spends with you changes his perception of sleep. Instead of viewing it as little more than a necessary evil to maintain the condition of his body and mind, he thinks of feeling your body against his. He thinks of your breaths, deep at first and then growing shallow as you begin to dream. He thinks of the way he holds you and–even more wonderful–the way you hold him, inviting him into your arms again and again for the explicit purpose of sleep.

No lingering threat of alarms or disappointed looks through a pane of glass. Just you. Just this.

I feel safe with you.

The nightmares lessened. Nowadays he generally sleeps however long you do, but old habits die hard.

Homelander startles awake, heart racing, the after-images of his nightmare still flashing behind his eyelids every time he blinks. It takes a moment to register his reality: cuddled up snug against your back, wide awake too early in the morning, the sun only just starting to rise. He exhales roughly, nuzzling at the back of your neck, then your bare shoulder. The weight of you in his arms is a constant warm comfort, the smell of you intoxicating. He's not even sure he could sleep at all without you anymore.

Even the way you snore endears him.

He holds you close while the nightmare fades into the back of his mind, his pulse gradually slowing, soothed by the steady beat of yours.

Given the chance, he can't help but explore you. He runs his hand along your naked side, trailing the slopes of your body from your ribs to your outer thigh, then back up. He knows the shape of you as well as he knows the New York skyline. At times he feels like every curve of you was made just for him. Under the sensitive pads of his fingers he can feel little goosebumps prickling along your skin where he touches you, featherlight and ticklish.

You make a soft sound in your sleep, giving him pause. The corner of his mouth quirks slightly.

Mmm...

He kisses the junction between your neck and your shoulder, ghosting his hand back down your body. On the slide back up, he cups your breast. Supple and full, with every drop of it dedicated to him.

That you do this for him is still a wonder. That you would allow him this forbidden thing without judgment or agenda. It leaves him awestruck: one more trauma that you’ve spun into golden comfort. He thumbs gently at your nipple, coaxing it until wetness seeps onto his thumb. His cock gives an answering throb at the feel of it, of your body responding to him involuntarily in your sleep.

"Babe," he whispers against your skin. No response. He licks his lips, his own heart rate picking up with excitement. He kneads your breast slowly, his mouth bone dry, achingly thirsty for the answering rivulets of milk that drip onto his hand. Still you don’t wake. He gingerly lifts away from you, helping you to roll back into the dip in the bed his hand pressed into it creates, your torso turned towards him. You’re deep asleep, your head lolled to one side.

Leaning in, he meets your pearl-soft skin with a kiss just at the swell of your breast, peppering more further down. Your scent fills his nose, sharpest in the line between your breasts. He runs his mouth slowly over them, between them. You smell of maple and summer rain. Heady, sweet, wistful.

“Babe,” he says once more, voice too soft to actually rouse you. Just enough that he’d be able to say he tried to wake you. That you’re not even conscious adds to the taboo nature of what he’s about to do, thrilling something deep inside him. Despite your encouragement, getting what he’s always wanted has never stopped feeling like thievery. Like something he was never meant to have.

His stomach flips while his cock throbs as he takes your nipple into his mouth, eyes fluttering shut. He rumbles a quiet moan for the taste of you filling his mouth, tongue pressing against the firm bud. You taste sweeter than you smell, your skin even softer against his tongue. He sucks slowly and gently, flooding his mouth nearly to the point of spill before he swallows, greedy for the taste of you.

You sigh a sweet little noise and his heart jumps again, lids flickering open to glance up at you. Still asleep. He rolls your nipple with his tongue, presses it into his top teeth just enough that more nectarine warmth spills into his mouth and you shiver against him.

Fuck, he thinks, nearly moans the thought aloud into your skin. Arousal mingles with the cream-sweet smell of you and it sends a pang of heat through him so intense that his body curls against yours, his hardening cock pressing into the curve of your ass.

He moves his hand a touch more firmly down your body, over your stomach, further until his fingertips brush your clit. He begins rubbing slow, gentle circles while he continues to suck. You moan so very sweetly, a breathy sound pulled from deep in your chest even as you sleep. Resisting the urge to bite, he holds you to him, grinding against your ass.

He's achingly hard now and more than a little desperate for your active participation. He lifts from your breast with a wet pop, panting softly. "Babe," he murmurs, louder now, more urgent. "Honey... Wake up," he says, breath tickling the shell of your ear. He rubs more firmly between your thighs, coaxing you in more ways than one.

With a sharp inhale you finally wake, disoriented with sleep. "Mmm, wha—Nnnngh..." you moan, reflexively grabbing him by the wrist. He always runs warmer than you, but even so he can feel how hot your skin is against his. You come out of sleep with feverish need already in full gear, your cunt velvet soft against his fingers.

He exhales a heated sigh along your neck. He uses the arm crooked under you to catch hold of your jaw and turn your head to face him, kissing you fervently. "Need you," he murmurs between kisses. "Couldn't help myself," he says by way of half-hearted apology, the words tumbling out in an urgent stream of desire. “M’so hungry.”

He craves more than milk, more than a fuck, more than pleasure and flesh. He knows there is an emptiness inside him–knows even the people who put it there–and that so few things in this world have ever scratched the surface of what it would mean to fill that pit.

Your love has come the closest.

Settling has never been an option for him. He has always needed someone who is fierce and will love him until death, who will be on his side no matter the shadow that befalls it. Someone who will destroy and be destroyed by him. He has always needed you.

Still half asleep, you reach between your legs, beyond his hand, and grasp blindly at his cock, surprising a breathless little moan out of him. Parting your thighs, you guide his cock between them and then tighten them back together. "Don't stop," you tell him, voice frayed with sleep and arousal in equal parts.

Homelander eagerly puts his hand back to work massaging circles over your clit, stopping only briefly to bring his fingers up to his lips, sucking them into his mouth, savoring the heady flavor of you while thoroughly wetting them before he puts them right back where they belong. He thrusts against you, fucking the plush, warm space between your thighs, your cunt wet and perfectly soft along the top of his cock.

Hooking your arm over the back of his neck, you slide your fingers into his hair and grip it gently, bringing his mouth to yours. He licks your own taste into your mouth, groaning his pleasure, his fervence. You clench your thighs until he breaks from your lips with a gasp.

“Inside,” you urge him, licking your lips. He stares at the shine of them, transfixed by how kiss-swollen and delicious they look. “I want you inside me.”

He nods deliriously, pausing his stroking of you in order to align himself, letting out a shaky breath for the wet heat of your cunt against the head of his cock. The novelty of this never dies; how fucking good it feels when your pussy opens to him, the silky pull of your quivering walls stealing the breath from his lungs.

The hungry flutter of noise that scrapes up your throat as he bottoms out nearly makes him come then and there. He screws his eyes shut, filling both palms with the weight of your breasts, kneading with tight restraint, spurred by the quickening breaths that bloom from your parted lips. Your eyes meet his, bleary and wild.

“I love you,” you say breathlessly. “Mm, you feel so good. Harder, wanna feel your strength,” you moan, breath hitching when he obeys you, when he lets go just a fraction more of his power and his skin slaps against yours with force enough to make you gasp.

Your words wrap tight around his heart like a fist. He swallows the lump in his throat and kisses you once, twice, thrice, each one more desperate than the last. He holds your stare, lips parted, brows furrowed. He’s never fucked someone who would hold his gaze the way you do. It’s as if you don’t want to miss a single moment of the pleasure you give him. It drives him insane.

He wants nothing more than for you to never take your eyes off of him, to shower him always in your love. Your attention would be wasted anywhere else. You are made for him.

“I love you, too,” he says, voice strained, hips rolling in sharp, deep thrusts that really make you start to sing for him. "Ffffuck, fuck," he moans, thrusts turning jagged the closer he climbs to his release. He slides one hand down your side, hikes your leg up so that he can fuck you deeper.

He's determined to bring you to the edge with him, adjusting until he finds the angle that makes you cry out and yank his hair.

"Homelander," you gasp, your skin pricking with goosebumps, pussy locking up around him the closer you get. You're fully awake now, shaken from the haze of sleep, but helpless to do anything but hold on against the onslaught of his thrusts. You squeeze his hair with one hand and grab his wrist with the other. "Oh, god. That feels so f-fucking good, gonna make me, make me—"

He doesn't get to hear the rest of it, but he feels it. He feels your whole body tense in exquisite agony; your hold on his hair tightening, your nails biting ineffective crescents into the invulnerable skin of his wrist, but it’s the soaked convulsing of your cunt quivering tight all around him that hurls him over the precipice of his own release.

His brows knit tightly together, eyes screwing shut right before that last tether of control snaps and he drives his hips up. He comes hard on that deep thrust, spilling load after load into you, your pussy greedily milking his cock with the aftershocks of your own climax.

He forgets to breathe for a solid minute, the orgasm shaking him to his core. He sucks in a shaky breath when the tremors settle, exhaling roughly as he gently rocks his hips into the wet mess he's made of your cunt, burying his face into your chest, nuzzling at the same breast he’d had his lips on.

The two of you spend a few moments just breathing, gradually floating down from the high of it, peaceful silence falling over you both. He nuzzles you, smiling dreamily in the aftermath of his pleasure. He kisses your breast as you stroke your fingers through his hair.

When you cup the back of his head, subtly pulling him to your chest, he takes the hint and sucks your nipple back into his mouth, exhaling a deep breath from his nose. He falls into a near trance like this, his eyes heavily lidded and glazed over. Your fingers card through his hair, your body a warm sanctuary that he keeps himself buried deep within, your limbs slotted perfectly against one another.

Each stroke along his scalp sends pleasant tingles down his spine. You bring him a peace that he once could have only imagined for himself. He feels your love in every tender touch, hears it in the steady thrum of your heart. He's thoroughly addicted to you, intoxicated by the effortlessness with which you soothe him, with which you love him.

“God, that was amazing,” you murmur. The praise is so tender, so earnest that it helps him come down slowly from his high, turning his freefall into a gradual descent. “You're amazing."

Once satiated–at least for now–Homelander pulls from your breast with a soft pop, placing a kiss upon it before adjusting properly behind you, allowing you back onto your side. He nuzzles at your neck, kissing the shell of your ear. He moves to pull out, but you stop him.

“Stay,” you tell him, voice wrung out and as sweet as a vanilla milkshake. You stroke his thigh, nails scraping exquisitely along his skin. He loves the way you feel against him after he fucks you; warm and thoroughly claimed. “Feels good.”

Smiling–amazed by all that you are–he eases himself flush to you once more, wrapping both arms around your middle and squeezing as tight as he dares, wringing a cute little hum from you. You interlace your fingers with his, squeezing his hand in turn.

“You’re perfect,” he murmurs at your ear, brushing his lips over the shell of it. He’s been in relationships before–he’s loved before–but it’s never felt like this. It never felt like something eagerly shared with him until it was coming from you.

Now that he has it, he’d sooner burn the whole world down than ever be without it again.

You give a ticklish little shiver against him. “Go’sleep,” you tell him, snuggling into your pillow. “‘Fore I get grumpy.”

He laughs, settling his head down on the pillow behind yours. “Is that a threat?”

“Mmhm,” you say, and before he can respond, you–in all your delicious cruelty–clench down on his spent cock hard enough to make him groan. He buries his face into the back of your neck, exhaling a rough little breath. It won’t be long before the wet heat of you riles him right back up and he’s ready to go again.

“Gonna make me hard again,” he warns, licking his lips. He’d much rather go for round two than go back to sleep.

“Gimme another hour,” you say, the words beginning to slur as you fade back into it yourself, a smile audible in your voice. “Then you can make that my problem.” He grins, those words like music to his ears. Just as he said–you’re fucking perfect.

#BARKBARKBARKBARKBARK #homelander x reader #homelander #smut #fluff #lactation kink #somnophilia #i losing my mind rn

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bb-homelander · 9 months ago

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American Beauty/American Psycho (Part 1)

DESCRIPTION: You are an introverted woman. Working at a local book shop, keeping to yourself, not really on any social media. However, one small act of kindness makes you appear on the radar of a very specific superhero.

A/N: I didn't know what title to call this story, I had 'devil' and 'angel' playing on my mind. But then I was listening to Fall Out Boy and 'American Beauty/American Psycho' came on and I thought it was perfect for this story. So it is very, very loosely based off of that song

WORD COUNT: 2292

Next / Master List

WARNINGS: swearing, fire, burning house

DISCLAIMERS

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

You run a finger through your hair. Letting out a sigh as you look at the pile of books before you. The small library you work in had closed for the night. You had the job of putting back all the forgotten books into their rightful place. Taking out all the different genres, placing them into their corresponding piles. Going to each shelf and placing them alphabetically in their correct places. You take a step back. Nodding at your work as you move onto the next section. Doing this for each of the small piles you'd managed to accumulate.

Once you had done this you make your way down the isles. Making sure there aren't any late night readers or sleeping students inside before you lock up. Thankfully there were none. So you head outside. Pulling the door too before locking it. Jiggling the handle to check it was locked. Placing the keys into your jeans pocket as you make your way through the chilled night air. Wrapping your arms around yourself. It was early autumn so you hadn't quite gotten used to the warm days yet chilled nights. Not having dressed appropriately for it. Only a thin hoodie keeping you warm.

Your nose catches scent of something. Causing you to stop in your tracks. You look around. Listening. Trying to see anything. Then you spot it. A blazing building. "Fuck". You mutter. Running over as you watch the building going up. Before you can think about anything else you hear a piercing scream through the night. Running over as you see someone by a downstairs window. A young boy, his fingers scrambling at the frame. Retracting his hands at the heat. You motion at him. Yelling through the night. "Stand back". Going into your pocket and taking out a pen. He stands back a little way. You wrap your fist around the item. Smashing it into the glass. Shattering. Reaching inside you pull him out. Holding him as he coughs. Moving him a safe distance away.

"My mum. Shes in the house. Plus my sister". You look back. A loud crack. You turn back to the boy.

"Do you know what floor they are on?"

"Top floor. I think the top floor". You nod. Hands on his shoulders as you keep his gaze.

"Stay here". You run back over. "Fuck". You mutter. Going in through the open window. "Hello!" you call out. No answer. You go to the door to the rest of the house. Pulling your hoodie sleeve up over your hand as you open the door handle. Feeling the heat grow intensely around you as you enter what looks like a living room. A body lies on the floor. Going over to it. You crouch down. Checking for a pulse. Nodding to yourself as you feel the slight beat of her heart. You grab her arm. Pulling her up as you sling her over your shoulder. Going back to through the house to the open window.

You aren't sure how but you manage to get the woman out of the window you entered through. Contorting yourself with her still over your shoulder. Going over to the boy as he watches. Tears staining his cheeks. "Mum!" he sobs. You lie her on the floor. You place your head near her chest. Hearing a soft yet distinct heart beat. The boy kneels down. Taking her hand in his.

"Stay here with your mum". You stand up. Rushing back over to the building. Climbing through the window as you are met with a monstrous fire. The room you were just in now fully engulfed in flames. Lapping at the sofas in the living room. You spot the stairs. Making a bee line for them as you dart up them. Hearing the sound of them slowly burning away as you go up. Three closed doors.

You stay silent. Hearing the crack of the fire below you. The distant sound of a toddler crying. You dart to the door the noise is behind. Opening it you see a very young child crying. Hands on the edge of her crib as she looks at you. You go over to the bed. "Shh" you try to soothe her. Picking her up and holding her close to you. "Its ok. You're ok". You go to the door again. Going to walk down the hallway. Seeing the fire now licking up the stairs. Destroying your only exit. You cradle her close to you as you go back into the bedroom. Shutting the door behind you. Grabbing a blanket form the side and placing it under the door. Trying to prevent the smoke from coming through.

The child still cries as you hold her close to you. Trying to soothe her as you turn around. Just as you hear a loud cracking noise. The middle of the floor starts to cave into the fire below it. Not daring to move, scared the floor will give out completely. You stay close to the wall. Pressing yourself a flat against it as you can. Among the crackle of the flames you hear voices. Firemen must've arrived. You call out. Your voice dull against the noise of the fire, and the slowly falling floor.

"Help. Please help". You call out. A soft sob coming through your voice. The door opens. You look. Expecting to see men in yellow enter. Instead, seeing a blue suit. Being met with his equally blue eyes. You'd seen him on billboards and newspapers. Homelander. He goes to walk into the room. "No!" you almost yell. Hand going outwards. Motioning at the floor.

He stills. Looking at you. Then the floor. Analyzing the situation before his gaze going back up to you. He outstretches one of his hands. You go to move towards him. The all to familiar sound of the fire making you still in your movements. You shake your head. Causing him to take a step closer to you. You move the child. Handing her to him.

"Get her out please". He looks at you. Going to say something but you move the girl closer. "Take the damn child!" you say. Fear in your voice as it fills the room. He takes her from your hands. Holding her close as he looks behind him. Then at the floor in front of him. Obviously assessing his best way out where the girl is unharmed. You watch as he looks at the ceiling. His eyes lasering a hole into it. He flies the girl out. You let out a breath. Glad the young child is safe.

The floor jolts slightly. The suddenness making you take it a sharp breath. Shutting your eyes as you press further into the wall. Your heartbeat echoing in your ears. Making you unable to hear anything else around you. The crack happens beneath you again. You fight back the tears. Pushing your lips together.

You jump as you feel something touch your arm. Eyes flying open as you meet Homelanders gaze. His hand on your upper arm. "Wrap your arms around me". You try to move. Lifting your arm up just as another creak fills the room. Your arms going firmly back to the wall. Shaking your head as you look at him

"I-I cant" you whisper. The floor cracks again.

"Yes you can". You shake your head. Shutting your eyes again. Feeling the floor start to shift under your feet. A soft whimper escaping your lips. "I'll catch you". You look at him. Wide eyed. The terror evident in your features. "Trust me". You watch his eyes. His still. Calming against yours. Slowly lifting your arms up. Trying to ignore the fire slowly eating its way through the floor. He puts an arm around your waist. You gently put your arms around his neck. Just as the floor falls out from under you. Your soft grip on him changes as you cling to him. Hiding your face into his shoulder as the comforting feeling of floor gets whisked away from under your feet. He remains hovering. The warmth of fire licking at your feet as he flies up. Away from the heat.

Your mind to overwhelmed by everything, plus hiding into his shoulder. You don't take in the fact he's taking you out of the previously made hole in the ceiling. Flying both of you out safely. Your legs nearly give out from under you as they hit the soft ground. Your arms still clinging to him as you tilt your head slightly. Looking at the paramedics tending to the unconscious girl on the ground. He gently rubs the lower of your back. "I'm going to need my neck back". He whispers into your ear.

"Shit. Sorry" you unwrap your arms. Going to move away from him. Wobbling slightly on your feet. Your arms coming out to balance yourself. He brings his hand out. Stabilising you by holding your arm. He tilts his head down. Looking at you through his lashes. Swaying slightly as you regain your composure. You look over at the woman on the floor. Her son sat next to her as their young daughter gets checked over by a paramedic. "Is she ok? Will she be ok?". You look at the blue eyed hero. Eyes tiredly scanning his face.

"They are doing everything they can do make sure she lives". You look back at the woman. Thats when you notice the small group of people. Neighbours all wrapped in coats and dressing gowns as they watch the scene before them. Some with their phones out. Recording the situation. Recording the fire. Recording Homelander. Recording you.

A paramedic comes over to you. You watch as his lips move. Obviously speaking to you but your overwhelmed senses don't take in what he says. You shake your head at his words. "I need to go home" you whisper. Looking at the crowd of people.

"Miss we need to make sure that you're ok".

"I'm ok". You smile at the paramedic. Homelander watching you as he keeps his grip on your elbow. "I promise I'm ok".

"Why don't we get you checked out, hmm?" Homelander says. You look at him. A smile on his face. You shake your head.

"I don't want to be a hassle. You've got the woman and her children to prioritise over me".

"You are just as much my concern as they are. Please miss" the paramedic says. Smiling at you as he takes the arm that was being supported. Taking you over to an ambulance. Checking you over. Once hes confirmed that everything is ok with you, he gives you the all clear to go home. Saying that they can organise transport but you insist on walking. You turn to try and find Homelander. Wanting to thank him for saving your life. But you see him talking to a news reporter. You press your lips together. Turning on your heels as you make your way back to your home.

You open the front door. Having a quick shower, changing into your pyjamas, then getting into your bed. Trying to fight the pesky nightmares. It isn't much after 8am when you hear your bedroom door burst open. Your curtains being forced back. You let out an annoyed groan. Bringing the covers up and over your head. Your roommate comes over to you. Grabbing the covers and pulling them down.

"Your famous!" she says. You sit up. Blinking your eyes awake as you look at her. She hands you her phone. A video pops up. The reporter from yesterday on the screen.

"A mother and her two children were saved last night from a house fire believed to have started from a cigarette butt. Thankfully no one was hurt, and we can put it down to this anonymous hero who risked her own life to save these three souls. A neighbour recorded the incident - describing it as a miracle and heroic act"

The video cuts to you. Helping the boy out before going inside the building. A few minutes passing, worried voices filling the background before you appear. Carrying the mother out the window. It cuts back to the reporter.

"Although Homelander himself managed to make it to the scene, firefighters and paramedics have both said that if this woman hadn't stepped in when she had then the family of three would have likely all been killed. Just goes to show the world that you don't need powers to be a true hero". You turn the screen off. Looking at your roommate.

"Fuck". You say. You pull the covers off of your legs. Going out into the kitchen. She follows behind as you grab out the orange juice. Filling a glass.

"Did you actually get to meet Homelander?". You place the orange juice back into fridge. Nodding.

"He saved my life".

"Thats so awesome". You scoff. Drinking your juice.

"I wouldn't describe nearly dying as awesome, but I understand what you mean". Placing the cup into the sink. You run a hand through your hair. Lightly massaging your scalp before bringing them down. "I'm going to head to work"

"You nearly died last night". You go over to the bathroom. Picking out your toothbrush. Applying some toothpaste.

"I am aware". You start brushing your teeth.

"And you're going to work?". You nod. Spitting and rinsing out your mouth with some water before looking at her. Drying your hands on a towel.

"Bills aren't going to pay themselves". Lightly tapping her nose. "I'll pick up a Chinese on the way home". You smile at her. Hand motion for her to leave the bathroom. She takes a step out. She goes to say something as you shut the door on her.

#slay we're such a badass and girlboss #homelander #homelander x reader

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