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trashlie · 2 years ago

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ILY FP 210, 211, 212

WOOOOOOOF I’ve been holding off on writing this post, because I wanted to wait for this whole “episode” to fully come out. Quimchee revealed they were all meant to happen in one episode, but SO MUCH was happening in the episode that it was too long to do as the one. I... kind of wish I hadn’t waited because now there is SO MUCH for me to cover, so I’m going to do my best to keep this organized and coherent.

No lie, these go up there in my top episodes, especially 212. I have a feeling I might have some different feelings than others on this one...? We’ll see, I’m keen to hear how all of you are thinking and feeling about it. To me, these episodes really encapsulate a good 80% of the plot that we’ve been dealing with, and there’s some good reveals in here that have been a LONG time coming. I think everything is set up now for the time skip to come, and especially after all the events that transpired this arc (remember how this all started out so many moons ago with Nol going to the company Christmas party? That feels like it was years ago to what is happening now!) I am BEYOND excited to see what the time skips have in store for us!

Anyway, before I start spoiling things, let’s get into it!

Well and truly, I love this arc! It’s really capture so much of the story this bigger story has centered on - the relationship between Nol and Kousuke. This isn’t the root of the story, of course, but it’s a significant portion of what we’ve come to read for, I think, and I cannot tell you how much I love seeing the characters verbally acknowledge things they’ve swept under a rug.

212 felt especially raw to me - Kousuke’s confessions are tragic in the way of too little too late, and the realization that Nol was never against him, that he was always on the same side, that they could have been an incredible team may come to haunt him. That acknowledgement of his that nobody really liked him - no one else but the one person he had demeaned and devalued until he was truly nobody - really hit me like a sucker punch. I truly thought these were truths Kousuke wouldn’t be able to reach until he lost more, like his job or his sense of self, but I guess we can argue that he’s lost a lot of his sense of self; from the moment he punched Nol, it’s clear that he’s dissociating. That also serves to tell us how important this moment is for Kousuke, what it means to him, what Nol means to him.

Now, I’ll be upright honest with you guys, because I think this is where the difference of opinions will come in. I really enjoy stories with this kind of element of hatred and care so intricately interlaced in family or friends. There’s something about this sense of care being overwritten by jealousy so scathing it mutates into resentment and hatred and loathing. The way these two feelings battle out, the way ugly emotions are so strong they come to eclipse any hope for warmth. Idk it’s intriguing to me, it creates a compelling story.

And in Kousuke’s case, it is! A running theory has been that Kousuke treats Shinae the way he does because he is, subconsciously, treating her how he wishes he’d treated Nol. As the story went on and Kousuke’s ugliness started to come out more and more and his paranoia began to consume him, I think it was probably difficult for many to find credence in this theory - that there was no way Kousuke could have cared about Nol and transferred it to Shinae when he treated Nol how he did but I’m still here for the theory. It’s just that Kousuke’s ugliness was so strong, overwhelming, it eclipsed anything else.

Now I’m not saying I think Kousuke loves Nol or thinks of him as a brother, but rather I think deep down, he understood they were connected. As a child, Nol was the only person who didn’t treat Kousuke like an object - like a puppet or rich vending machine or influence to be gained. But how could Kousuke allow himself to think so favorably of Nol when he was so deeply rooted in jealousy?

This is what I find especially intriguing about their dynamic. Something I talk about a lot is that Nol and Kousuke are both the products of abuse - Kousuke is the way he is due to neglect and manipulation, and in turn he took that out on Nol. I’ve seen people say Kousuke doesn’t make sense to them, but he DOES and this episode really drove that home and confirmed a lot of things I’d felt.

Kousuke’s treatment of Nol all stems from Rand and his affair. Let’s look at it from Kousuke’s perspective. He has a father who is never around, and when he is he’s busy and always puts his career first. He rarely joins them for family time, there’s a rift between him and his wife. All young Kousuke wants is for his father to spend time with him, to be around, to notice him. His mother tells him things - if he’s a good boy Father will pay attention; if he wants his father’s attention he needs to be just like him; if he wants Father to care to notice he must be exactly like him. But his mother also says other thing - that there’s someone else, money is being wired to someone. At school people murmur similar things.

All he wants is his father’s approval, his father’s pride, his father’s attention, his father’s time. He must not be good enough, yet. He must not matter, yet. He’ll make sure he does, though. He’ll do exactly what his mother says, he’ll buckle down just like she tells him, he’ll make sure to become the perfect son that his father can be proud of.

So you can understand, then, why the discovery that the murmurs are true, that there’s another family, would shatter him the way it did, why it remains a point of breaking for him even as an adult, why he never really reconciles his father’s affair. How is it that the man who has no time for him or their family, had enough time to create a second family? Why was he so undeserving of his time? Why was he so undeserving of his attention?

And it rooted deep inside him, right in the core of his foundation. This other boy who describes his father as someone who couldn’t possibly be the same man as his father - a funny man, a kind man. That is not the father Kousuke knows, so why does this other child know him? (Never mind that this child has also never met that version of his father.) It all stems from that: a craving for something he’s never received.

Kousuke’s whole speech about how there was only one kind, sweet, generous, funny person in his life was the very person he attacked and tore down hit me HARD. His admission of fear, that he ACTUALLY ADMITTED TO BEING SCARED, that he’ll never be good enough for Rand, that nothing he would ever do would make him worthy of his attention actually hurt. This is the kind of thing I’ve been wanting Kousuke to acknowledge and embrace, because it’s the one thing that has been fueling and propelling him. He doesn’t do this job because he’s passionate about it - he does it because he’s still vying for love and attention. He didn’t forsake his childhood because he was above it - he literally sacrificed it for his father. Regardless of what you think about Kousuke now, it has to be acknowledged that he, too, has suffered. And let’s not pretend that Yui truly believed that Kousuke could win Rand’s affection this way - it still feels like it was a game for her, a manipulation to turn him into someone she could use to get her way, a puppet if you will. It’s fucking sad to think that he gave up everything because he was so determined to earn his father’s love, that his love and attention was believed to be so conditional he had to make himself worthy of it.

“I hate you for making me aware this person exists. And I hate your face being a constant reminder of it.”

So many times, Kousuke has berated Nol for his playful, joking behavior, for seeming so lax and carefree. I’d always thought it was jealousy that he didn’t have that kind of life, that he wasn’t allowed it - and that probably is still a part of it - but now we know that when Yeonggi laughed and played around, he was a vision of a version of Rand Kousuke had never known, a spitting image of a man Kousuke didn’t even know could exist.

And as Nol points out, it was all for naught. All of Kousuke’s jealousy and his fear, tearing down Nol so that he could instead get to know that version of Rand. All of it was for naught, because who knows if that man even exists? It seems like only one person ever knew her, and who’s to know if she didn’t make him up. Kousuke has spent his entire life - sacrificed his childhood, accelerated himself through school, forsook any fun or leisure - on a quest for a man who probably doesn’t exist, for something he’ll never achieve. He spent his whole life tearing down someone innocent trying to get to something he’ll never have.

I really thought it would take for Kousuke to lose it all, to stumble in his career before he’d realize it, but here he is.

But on the other side of that, we have Nol. Nol, who also lost - and lost more than Kousuke did. Nol who was isolated and alienated, Nol who tried time and time again to reach out and create a connection, and was refused every time. Nol who suffered under Kousuke and Yui’s watch over and over. Nol, who despite it all, still tried to treat Kousuke well, still tried to give him a chance, still tried to reach out to him at his most desperate.

I think that really illustrates something important: an understanding that there is a reason for Kousuke’s behavior and his paranoia, where it comes from, but that reason doesn’t justify. I can acknowledge both that Kousuke absolutely is the product of his environment and that he has been an asshole about it lol. Idk I can admit that my intrigue in his has grown a LOT.

These episodes have just tapped into something so deep that I love about this series - that our experiences heavily color our interpersonal relationships, as well as our relationships with our own selves. Nol notes that he, too, suffered, he, too, lost, he has been alone and alienated and despite it all he still tried, and he still attempted to be a good person, in contrast to Kousuke who let his suffering turn him into an asshole. It was kind of a hard-to-read moment, because Nol spoke the truth, and as much as I feel for Kousuke, Nol is right. Because he never attempted to deal with those ugly feelings, because he never chose to face them, because he instead wore them as armor, it became his identity, he became an asshole through those experiences. Had there ever been a moment that he could have met Nol in the middle, that he could have put aside his jealousy, that he could have turned off his Rand blinders, he could have seen what Nol was able to see earlier and more clearly. And isn’t that sad? They could have been a great team, they could have had each others’ back in a world where no one else did, they could have been there for each other, but Kousuke couldn’t cross that line.

Again, I fully acknowledge that Kousuke is the way he is because of those experiences. I acknowledge that this is the wake up call he needed, that he was forced to finally reckon with the truth.

But I also worry what will come of Kousuke as a result of Rand’s arrival. Is he going to backpedal? Is this going to short-circuit something and push him to double down, or is it going to free him?

Kousuke has spent his entire life trying to earn Rand’s favor, to earn his attention. Everything he has done has been an angle to get closer to his father. Like, when you break it all down, that’s the sad, basic truth. He was a child who so desperately wanted his father’s attention that his life became about that. And here comes Rand, showing up when it looks like Kousuke is running away. Rand who never had time for him, Rand who didn’t shower him with warmth and affection.

Rand who showed up and wailed “My son” in response to Nol.

That whole scene honestly hurts me. Nol is hurt, Rand is anguished and horrified, and Kousuke? Kousuke finally witnessing his father show a fatherly side - and it wasn’t for him. And not only that but Rand might not even believe that Kousuke was trying to get help, that he attempted to get Nol up but couldn’t. And does it even matter when the truth is that Kousuke DID cause this? I can’t imagine it was his intention - I don’t think his mind went “punch Nol and he’ll fall over the railing” as much as Nol tried to leave and Kousuke reacted on that. But the point still stands: even if it wasn’t his intention, this is still ultimately his fault. Nol goaded him on and played a part, but Kousuke was the hand that acted.

I fear that this will ruin what little relationship Kousuke has with Rand - and it’s a fear because it means Kousuke could swing in two wholly opposite directions. Does he double-down and return to the side of his mother, the only family member who has made him feel like someone’s child? I don’t think he’s at the point where he can extricate himself from the family, as good as it would be. And I worry that if that’s the case, will he double back down on his treatment and resentment of Nol? For this one moment, he saw that they were equals, that they both had a broken, shitty relationship with Rand. And then Rand showed up, showing that paternal side Kousuke has longed for.

As much as I WANT Kousuke to hold on to that moment, I don’t know that he can. I think the cracks have formed and I think his fragile reality is crumbling faster, but I fear he’ll retreat back into the “comfort” of the world he knows.

Here’s the thing about Kousuke: on some level he knows. He knows that Yui isn’t great, he knows that she has done awful things, he knows that Nol did no wrong, he knows that Rand will probably never change. But these are such uncomfortable truths and he has spent his life propped up by a false reality. This was pointed out by AugmentedElle on reddit, but look at the difference in Kousuke’s flashbacks. Look at the memory in 210 vs 212. The flashback in 210 is the strongest, most vibrant memory we’ve yet seen. Ordinarily they’re in some kind of grey scale, or at least muted colors, sometimes with spot color like in Shinae’s. In Nol and Kousuke’s flashbacks thus far, we’ve seen those muted colors or alterations - Nessa’s face appearing scribbled out in Kousuke’s memories, just as in 212. The use of color suggests that the memory in 210 is, quite possibly, fabricated. It starts out with Kousuke dazed, unable to remember what just happened, and Yui comes in and tells him he won’t have to see that boy for a long time. It feels like something happened - that perhaps Kousuke did something (the huffing that parallels his huffing after he punches Nol in the current story) and blocked it out or whited out and Yui came in and gave him an iteration of the story. It’s the strongest memory because it didn’t come from him - because it was filled in and colored in by someone else. The whole time we’ve thought Nol had perhaps been pushed to the bring, that Kousuke instigated a fight and Nol snapped, but maybe it was never Nol. Maybe the whole time Kousuke has associated Nol with danger and violence - because he was wired to think that way. That whatever happened and lead to that moment was so traumatic he doesn’t have the real memory, and instead carries a fabrication.

And that is essentially the basis of Kousuke’s entire life. Regardless of intent, Yui does manipulate Kousuke. She says things knowing full-well the effect they’ll have. Consider that moment with Nol and Nessa vs Yui in Kousuke’s flashback in 212. He watches Nessa blow raspberries on Nol’s cheek, a warm and silly exchange full of so much love and care - and then he looks up at Yui, who wears her maternal mask, shadows falling eerie over her face. Doesn’t it feel so much like she set this up? Doesn’t it feel like she knew Nessa and Nol would be around? She fills his head with things like “the only way to get your father’s attention is to be just like him” and “we’re not like other families we’re so special” and “isn’t it just so wonderful that rand at least has enough time to eat with us”? That’s not vouching for Rand - that’s passive aggression towards Rand and creating an idea of who Rand is - that Rand unwittingly lives up to. Despite speaking of the affair in front Kousuke, she turns and tells him that “Your father values us too much, he would never do such a thing” - a blatant lie that only plays into that feeling Kousuke wears that he’s been cheated, that there exists a version of his father that has been denied to him. Nessa tells Nol that Rand was a kind, sweet, generous, funny man. Yui tells Kousuke that Rand is anything but funny and he has no time for jokes. Maybe both are true, but Nol’s unintentionally makes a point about how Yui speaks of Kousuke’s father, vs how Yui spoke of Nol’s father. Why would a parent speak ill of the other parent -- if not to make the child see them that way.

(She also tells him there’s nothing she hates more than people who don’t take things seriously, and well, look at how Kousuke came out.)

There’s a fragile cognitive dissonance between what Kousuke knows to be true - that is, the reality that has been shaped by his experiences and Yui’s manipulation - vs actual reality, and we’ve seen this a number of times when various events threaten that tentative balance. Kousuke at the club, angry and paranoid, is aware of what people really think of him. Deep down he knows people don’t see him as great, as an honorable gentleman. Deep down he knows he’s a selfish, judgmental asshole, but it doesn’t fit the fabricated reality he believes in, so it only comes out in his paranoia. He knows that Nol is like him, that he didn’t have the love Kousuke coveted, that he tried to get by quietly, but Kousuke’s fear and paranoia still thought of him as the boy who had earned the love that Kousuke couldn’t, and that made him a threat. He knows what kind of person Yui is and has tried to draw boundaries, but he’s still told her things about Nol that she could act on, because he knows what she is capable of. When people or events fracture that reality, he struggles and lashes out, because he needs that reality to keep it together, but it’s crumbling fast.

Between the phone call with Rand and the moment that Rand shows up on the scene - what is the state of Kousuke’s reality? Is it crumbling? Is he trying to stuff the crumbling rocks back into the foundation? Will he retreat to his mother, the only one who can keep the tint of his rose colored glasses or will he be forced to face reality for what it really is? I wish it would be the latter, but I just don’t know if he’s ready for it yet. I don’t know if he can face that which he’s run from this whole time just yet.

As for Nol, woooooooof. What a fucking NIGHT. To think - THIS IS HIS GODDAMN BIRTHDAY. On the one hand, I think, maybe this can give him some kind of peace. He’s finally gotten a piece of Kousuke’s mind, he finally knows how Kousuke sees him, what he thinks of him, and what motivated him all these years. Maybe with this knowledge, Nol will be able to walk away in peace. He doesn’t have to wonder anymore. He knows where he stands - and where he’s always stood - and I think he’s made it clear that he’s drawn his line. He is done, he is finished, with all of them. If Kousuke can find his way to the other side of the line, then good for him, but Nol has no intention of trying to bring him over anymore.

I do think there’s a lot of room for them to reconcile in the future - when Nol’s raw anger has maybe ebbed, when Kousuke has found himself and learned to stand on his own ground, rather than prop himself up by his fabricated reality. But they are far from there. I’ve said before that I had a feeling maybe we’ll see the three main characters reunite in the time skip as adults after having gone separate ways, and that feeling still lingers. Nol has made it clear that he still wants to get away - and frankly I think he needs to. I wish he’d say so much to his friends, I wish he’d tell them where they stand. I feel so bad for Shinae, who went through so much grief and angst and really put herself out there to bring him back, to get her closure - and then when she had it and was ready to let him go, he insisted on staying. For him to turn around and leave like that again, after everything she told him, after the ways she opened up to herself, god that must hurt a lot. I guess on the one hand, she got the closure she wanted but.... it wasn’t even that long ago that Nol was making jabs at Kousuke for abandoning his friends, and there he goes doing it a SECOND time.

There’s a piece I’d love to give more time and thought to - that maybe all along, on a deep, subconscious level, Kousuke feared Nol leaving and that’s why he’s always acted when Nol was on the leave. If Nol leaves he’ll be truly alone. If Nol goes, there is truly no one left who ever liked him, who ever saw any value in him. This post is already long enough, so I’ll try to spit that out later this week, if I can. I think it’s not a coincidence that Kousuke punched Nol as he was leaving, that he didn’t bring himself to do it when Nol promised he’d leave, just as he let Yui know Nol was planning to leave. Maybe he doesn’t recognize it yet, but I think Kousuke is terrified of being left alone and Nol escaping without him.

Like I said, more on that later, but it’s an important point that I think ties in really well with this relationship Kousuke has towards Nol. It’s complicated, fucked up, toxic, and messy, and it needs a LOT of untangling by professional help. But I do think these last episodes really set something up for Nol and Kousuke’s future - as much as there is so much resentment and anger between them, there’s a mutual sense of longing, of needing each other to fill a void: for Nol, he sought out a brother in Kousuke, a companion against the adults in their lives; for Kousuke, that knowledge that Nol, too, had suffered that neglect, and was the only person who had ever truly liked him. I think one day when that anger has died, when they’ve made peace and hopefully worked on themselves, when Kousuke has freed himself, I think there’s a chance they will be able to reconcile. Like I said, maybe they’ll never be family to each other; there’s so much damage there, it’s really possible that can never be undone. But I think at some point, at least, they will see themselves on the same side, rather than each other.

#I Love Yoo #ILY FP #ILY Spoilers #ILY Brainrot #Nol #Nolan Oliver T. Lochlainn #Kousuke Hirahara #Rand #Yui Hirahara #one day I'll replace my Rand tag with his full name but I can never remember it #lol as you can see this is v v heavy on the brothers and their relationship with each other #i want to maybe do a post later where i point out little individual bits i've enjoyed in these episodes or little details that stuck out to #I REALLY want to write more about their dynamic as brothers but woooof we'll see if i wind up finding the time to write everything i want ;A #i just feel SO STRONGLY about this current arc it's EVERYTHING i've been waiting for and i just have so many thoughts that are all over the #place and it's sooooo had to wrangle them into one place!!!!!!!!!#(I think this is why I like when people send asks - it helps me concentrate on one point lol)#Basically I just have a lot of thoughts and feelings about the content quimchee is feeding us the insight into Kousuke i have been DESPERATE #for this part of Rand the continued hints to Yui and Kousuke's relationship #and yknow even if you don't like a character (at least for me personally) i can often still find empathy #and man i feel for Kousuke in this one #all these truths he's finally releasing all these fears he's facing and one that literally materializes in front of him????#holy shit that's gotta hurt ouchies for EVERYONE #CAN YOU BELIEVE THIS IS ALL ON NOL'S BIRTHDAY?!#CAN YOU BELIEVE HIS LAST NIGHT BEFORE PRISON HIS FUCKING BIRTHDAY IS GOING DOWN LIKE THIS?!#jesus CHRIST #ILY Commentary

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lolly--lollipop · 6 months ago

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we have such! an amazing pride outfit weve been working on hehe the only problem is were going with our cisqueer boyfriend!!! and the outfit is so femme lesbian!!!!! ✨️💖🌟

#lollys pops #im keeping that tag despite my name changing hehe its so cute!!!#we have sooooo many good outfit ideas and new clothes that are for meeeee

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oozeandgoo-art · 10 months ago

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wip, not final colors or values, something something hangover baroque. This is my friend's fault and also they are a genius

finished here!

#alan wake ii #alan wake 2 spoilers #alan wake ii spoilers #alan wake 2 #alan wake #thomas zane #thomas seine #sooooo many names #contents: a little raunchy for tumblr #wip #yay 8000000 orage #will add alt text tomorrow #returns in the afternoon and stares at all the likes and then leaves again #<- has them turned off in my settings so i figured this went out to my adoring legions of Maybe like one person #lol #ok screw it im turning reblogs on but you have to promise to say nice things in the tags or im turning them back off #and also to consider looking at the final version when i finish it. no idea when that will be but like probably soon tbh #i colored over about half the lines today and adding real color shouldnt be a huge timesink

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joelsgoldrush · 4 months ago

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“give me all of that ultraviolence” | 2k

logan howlett x f!reader

SUMMARY: You give Logan head for the first time.

WARNINGS/TAGS: mdni - smut 18+ implied age gap. dirty talk. kind of inexperienced reader. oral sex (m receiving). face fucking. dom!logan. a tiny bit of degradation. he guides you through the whole experience (shocking!!! i know)

AUTHOR’S NOTE: HI PALS!!! yes i'm alive and kicking. yes university is killing me. so recently i’ve been OBSESSED with this man and i needed to write something for him. english is not my first language and i may have made some mistakes (if you encounter any you can tell me, i won't mind it). comments/likes/reblogs would be highly appreciated. i've got sooooo many ideas to write and i'm finally getting my hands on them. i missed you all so fucking much. hope you enjoy this!!!

It’s common knowledge that all humans have needs. Try as you may, there’s a primitive side that you can’t spare yourself from. You, as everybody else, have urges.

“Logan,” you basically mewl his name, five letters that roll off your tongue with little effort. He doesn’t seem to acknowledge you, his kisses growing harsher on the delicate skin of your neck. Threading your fingers through his hair, you decide to try again, speaking a bit louder this time. “Logan, please.”

“What is it, honey?” he says, bitten lips still pressed to your pulse point. As you remain silent, he looks up at you, those big, brown eyes that you love so dearly almost completely dark now. “Do you want to call it a day?”

His question catches you off-guard. You cup his face, thumbs caressing his cheekbones, suddenly afraid that he might pull away from you. “No! Not at all. That’s- that’s not what I want at all, actually.”

“What do you want, then? You can tell me,” he kisses you on the lips, softly at first. What starts as nothing more than a sweet kiss turns into a needier one, his hard on poking you through your shorts. “Come on. Tell me, baby. What does my sweet girl want?”

“I want to suck you off, Logan,” you whisper as you latch your mouth onto his, and you can feel how he visibly tenses beneath you. His breath hitches in his throat when you grind your hips. “I really need it.”

From the very beginning of your relationship, you had made things crystal clear: you didn’t have much experience on this territory. For a man his age, he was totally understanding. He knew you had your own times, that for him to take you to bed would take longer. Truth be told, Logan was willing to go to the ends of the world for you. There was no use in forcing anything.

At present, the bulge amid his legs becomes even more noticeable as you get off his lap, playing with his belt. “Can I?” you ask him, amazed at how straightforward you’re being.

Logan stares at you, so far panting, lust glowing in his eyes. “Shit, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters as he helps you undress him. His worn out jeans end up pooling around his ankles, and you locate yourself in between his legs.

You’re on your knees, hands folded in front of you. Suddenly, it hits you, the shame of it all. How badly you want him, how desperate you are to feel the weight of his cock on your tongue. How many nights you’ve dreamt of this moment, unable to stop that unbearable need of touching yourself every time you thought about pleasuring him.

That’s what you truly want. For him to use you.

“What’s wrong, princess? We’ve talked about this a lot of times. You know what to do,” you can’t help but stare at his crotch as you listen to him, and then he raises your chin with his finger, your lips parting unconsciously. You blink slowly at him, eyelashes fluttering together. At last, he seems to understand what you’re trying to tell him, and he raises his eyebrows, that cocky grin of his taking place where it belongs. “You want me to guide you, don’t you? Want me to tell you what to do? Know you like it when I go a bit off the rails.”

You moan at his words, squeezing your eyes shut and nuzzling your cheek up against his palm. Slick gathers in your panties as you push your thighs together. “Please. Tell me what to do.”

“Take it out,” he instructs you, and you do as you’re told. Grabbing him by the base, you pull his cock out of his briefs. He twitches in your hand, and he’s so, so incredibly big.

You stroke him once, testing the feeling. This you know how to do. You’ve given him hand jobs millions of times, although this one feels particularly different from the others.

He takes hold of your fist, applying a bit of pressure. “I’m sorry, baby. I think you got it all wrong. I’m the one who makes the calls here, okay?” he grunts, his brows knitted, and you only nod, salivating at the sight of his cock already leaking precum at the tip. Logan licks his lips, curling his hand around yours. “You do as I say. Now, stroke me. Nice. And. Slow,” he punctuates each of his words by moving both your hand and his in unison around his length. “That’s it, darling. You just need someone to boss you around from time to time, ain’t I right?”

One thing to know about Logan: he’s so full of himself on a daily basis, but he just gets worse in bed.

“My mouth,” you hover your lips over the head of his cock, all shiny and soft. He has let you go, both of his arms now flexed behind his head, as if he were appreciating how pathetic you must look on your knees, begging for him to allow you to taste him. “Let me.”

“Not yet,” his hips follow your tormenting pace, seeking the warmth that your skin radiates. He grits his teeth, biting his lower lip. You’ve no idea how a man so strong can become putty in your hands like this. “Greedy girl. I’m beginning to think you��ve set me up. Only a slut would get so worked up about having a cock in her mouth. What happened to my innocent girl? Gone with the wind, huh?”

“Please, Lo. I need it so bad,” you are whining, peppering his thighs with kisses. You inhale his musky scent, getting dizzy. “Give it to me. I’ll be good.”

Out of nowhere, Logan grabs a handful of your hair, forcing you to arch your back. He scrutinizes your face, studying your blissed out demeanor. “I don’t doubt that. I’m sure you’ll be good. Otherwise, we’ll keep on trying. We have all night, and you have a good memory, just need to put it to use,” as he taps your lower lip with his tip, you catch him smirking. He repeats that same motion until he has you shivering from the excitement of being stuffed. ”Show me how much you need it. Go easy on it at first, okay? Don’t want you choking beforehand.”

You’re more than happy to comply.

Your tongue darts out to lick at his head, enveloping it between your lips. The salty taste of his precum invades your tastebuds, and you moan as you trace the veins of his cock with the pad of your thumb. “Tastes so good, Lo,” your voice sounds distant, almost unrecognizable to your own ears.

“I know, bub. Such a nice fucking mouth, can’t believe you’ve never done this before. I guess you’re a natural,” shaky fingers place a strand of hair behind your ears, patting your head as if you were a dog in heat. “Do you feel like bobbing your head a little?” he asks you, and you prepare yourself, attaching your mouth to his head once again. “Good. That’s good.”

With that being said, Logan fists your hair once again and shoves your face down, his hard cock tickling your throat. Your whines and his rapid breaths are the only sounds to be heard in your bedroom. He grins as he takes in the sight of you. “Oh, sweetheart. You look so beautiful with your mouth stretched around me,” his index finger taps your cheek and he feels the outline of his own cock. “You know I can smell you, right? You’re fucking soaked, baby. Think you’ll leave a stain on the carpet? You’d clean it off with your tongue, wouldn’t you?”

You have no idea how he’s coming up with these things, but you’re far from annoyed. In fact, you’ve never been this wet. Your underwear must be ruined at this point, and you wish Logan would tell you to touch yourself.

After some minutes of bobbing your head up and down, he pulls you off his cock and you breathe through your mouth for the first time in a while. As you gasp for air, Logan kisses you, tasting himself. He massages the back of your neck, his cock throbbing between the two of you. “You tired?”

Your glossy eyes widen. Shaking your head, you go for his balls this time, sucking one of them while toying with the other. Logan buries his hands in your hair for what must be the hundredth time in the night, unable to stop himself. “F-fuck, that’s it. A pretty girl like you just gets what she needs,” he praises you, and you return to his length, taking as many inches as you can without hurting yourself. Tears shimmer in your eyes, yet you can’t bring yourself to care about that detail. You’re far too focused on Logan’s grunts and growls. “Keep that up and I’ll come. You heard me? You’re gonna make me fucking come, bub.”

His words ignite a fire inside you. You use your hands, your mouth, everything that you have to pleasure him. He’s getting closer and closer, thighs shaking when you pay special attention to his tip. Logan responds to each of your movements, and as you feel every coherent thought fly out the window, you try to take him all the way down your throat, breathing through your nose and swallowing around him. He cants his hips up, brutally fucking your mouth. Like a dog without a leash, Logan seems to get lost in the warmth that envelopes his cock, chasing his own release. “You’re such a good girl. My good girl. Nobody will fuck this mouth ever again. I’ll ruin you for any pathetic guy that tries to get in your pants. You’re fucking mine, darling. Oh, f-fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuck-”

You’re met with his happy trail once he spills his hot load inside your mouth. He keeps you trapped there, his cock twitching and spamming through the aftershocks of his orgasm. You don’t think twice and swallow what he’s giving you. Some of his cum slips from your lips, falling directly onto the carpet. Even Logan seems surprised when he doesn’t stop coming.

He helps you stand up after a moment, kissing you as soon as he gets the chance. He licks into your mouth, squeezing the flesh of your hips. Logan lifts his eyebrows, relishing how cock-drunk you must look. “I think you nearly killed me. And that’s a lot to say coming from someone who cannot fucking die.”

You plaster a smile on your face, hugging his wide frame. “So, was I okay?”

His jaw goes slack, and he lowers his head to capture your lips in another kiss. “You were fantastic. I could easily get hard again just from thinking about it,” his fingers trace the buttons of your shirt, tugging at the fabric of it. “What if you let me focus on yourself for a while? You’ve already done enough, baby. Let me take care of you,” he rubs his hands on your thighs, reaching for your drenched panties. “Perhaps we could try something else today. That pussy’s begging to be fucked.”

dividers by: @/cafekitsune thank you!!! :)

5K notes · View notes

healmydesires · 2 months ago

Note

Ok so the recent post that you made on my filthy thot Logan how about you take the led of dominance one night instead of Logan and he absolutely loves it

a/n: nonnie, this is sooooo hot. I kinda had to adjust it a bit tho <3 hope you don’t mind! thank you for sending this!!! 🩷 mwah

you got my attention ꕤ (l.h)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

summary: Though Logan lets you take control and show your appreciation, in the end, you're still the one begging for him.

genre: smut (with some fluff in the end tbh) (18+ mdni)

word count: 5,8k

warnings/tags: established relationship, same universe as this fic, porn with barely no plot, reader is described as shorter than logan, lap dance, unprotected sex, piv sex, soft!dom logan, sub!reader, use of handcuffs, slight choking, dry humping, oral (f!receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, slight orgasm denial / edging but it’s short ngl, overstimulation, face sitting, doggy, rough sex, major size kink, praise kink, dirty talk. some daddy kink? breeding kink fuck sorry. I wrote this while I’m on my period lol. lots of pet names. this is high key filthy. reader has hair, no further description though. after care. this is not beta read sorry!

this goes without saying, but if you don't like it don't read it <3

AO3 • masterlist

You're sitting on the bed you share with Logan, waiting for him to enter the bedroom where you're dressed in soft, pastel lilac lace lingerie. You've been intimate with Logan many times before, so you know what to expect, but this time feels a little different. Your heart is racing, and you're feeling a bit anxious. Logan usually takes control in the bedroom, but tonight, you've been wondering what it would be like if you were the one to take the lead.

If there's one thing you love doing, it's teasing Logan. You thrive on the thrill of acting out just to get a reaction from him, and you enjoy being a brat more than anything. You love being submissive, and there's nothing you'd rather be.

But the thought of making him feel like you're in control, even if only for a few minutes, gets you all hot and bothered. You know Logan might take back control quickly, but just having that moment of power excites you.

You’ve always thought that stripping for Logan or putting on a show would be something fun to try one night. The idea of showing him how much you appreciate him by dancing to sensual music while he sits back on a chair or the couch, watching your body move, excites you. Just thinking about it makes you feel hot and turned on.

Logan’s entrance pulls you out of your thoughts as the door swings open. His eyes lock on you immediately, taking in the sight of the delicate lingerie clinging to your skin. “Hi, pretty girl,” he says with a playful smile, clearly appreciating the little fabric you're wearing.

The lingerie you’re wearing is a lilac set with turquoise and lilac flowers embroidered onto the lace. The cups of your balconette bra are pretty transparent unless it’s for the floral details at the top to the middle of the cups, barely covering your nipples. You can see his eyes travel from your chest to your waist as he takes in the elastic band, covered with the same lace pattern, of the suspenders. His eyes linger a bit too long as he takes in the small thing that barely hides the curves of your ass. A matching thong, the elastic band sitting just below your suspenders. Logan’s eyes wander from your covered core to your shoulders as he notices the lilac see through robe with lacy details hanging off your shoulders loosely.

“Hi,” you manage to respond, your voice soft and trembling. Your cheeks heating up as his intense gaze travels up and down your body, sending a wave of warmth through you. For a brief second, you feel the familiar pull to submit, to let him take control like always. But then you remind yourself to stick to your original intentions.

You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. Sticking to your original plan, you clear your throat and muster the courage to speak, despite the stutter. “C-could you, uh, sit in the chair?” You ask, nervously. Logan raises an eyebrow, intrigued by your request.

An amused smile then tugs at the corners of his lips as he nods briefly, surprised but clearly understanding what you're trying to do. “Are you asking or telling?” Logan teases, his voice smooth, challenging, and dripping with amusement.

The playful tone sends a shiver through you, momentarily shaking your confidence. You know he’s testing you, waiting to see if you’ll follow through. Swallowing the nervousness building inside you, you take a slow, deep breath, determined to stick to your plan, no matter how intimidating his presence feels right now.

His response makes your heart pound in your chest. Mustering up every ounce of confidence you can find, you lock eyes with him and say, “I said go sit in the chair.” The words feel foreign on your tongue, definitely out of character for you, but there's a spark of amusement in Logan's eyes that encourages you to keep going.

You can tell he’s entertained by this rare side of you, and though it feels strange, the thrill of his reaction pushes you to stick with it. His eyebrow raises slightly, the hint of a smirk playing on his lips, and for a moment, you feel a rush of control that excites you even more.

Logan never takes his eyes off you as he makes his way to the chair in the corner of the room. Settling into it, he leans back, his posture relaxed, yet his gaze remains sharp and unwavering. You watch as takes off his shirt and pulls down his jeans, exposing his hard cock pressing against his boxers. The look he gives you, despite your attempt to take control, makes it clear he still holds the power. His mischievous eyes silently tell you he could end your little fantasy whenever he chooses, effortlessly reminding you of who’s really in charge, even as he watches you with quiet anticipation.

Logan watches you walk towards the closet, opening it before you kneel down on the soft carpet in front of it as your hand tries to reach for something inside the closet. His eyes travel to your ass, observing your curves, how plump your ass looks. The way your cheeks squeeze the barely there material between them.

You can practically feel his eyes burning into you—more specifically, your ass—because you know exactly where he's staring. The heat of his gaze makes you bite your bottom lip in anticipation. After rummaging for a moment, you finally find what you’re looking for and stand up slowly, making sure to give Logan a lingering view of your curves. The sound of his low groan reaches your ears, sending a thrill through you. You close the closet doors and turn around, carefully hiding the vivid pink, silky handcuffs you picked up along with the lingerie just days ago.

Keeping the handcuffs tucked behind your back, you walk slowly toward him, not quite ready to reveal your little secret yet. As you reach him, you lean down to plant a soft, teasing kiss on his lips. It ends far too quickly for his liking, and a deep grunt escapes his throat as you pull away, leaving him wanting more. Your hand trails lightly from one of his shoulders, across his chest, to the other, the soft touch of your fingers making his skin feel like it's on fire. You can feel the tension radiating off him, his body almost trembling from the contact, as you circle behind him. You know he could moan from just the simple touch, and the thought of having him on edge excites you even more.

You take the handcuffs, the sound of the metal clinking behind him making Logan’s ears perk up. You hook one around his wrist, half-expecting him to protest, but when he remains silent, you continue and secure the other cuff in place. You lift your head to his neck, leaning down to press a soft kiss at his pulse point, making him moan as you finish up behind him. Walking back to face him, you notice a playful smile spread across his face, a look that makes your heart race.

“What?” you ask, mirroring his amused expression, but a sudden wave of self-consciousness washes over you as you realise he’s not taking you seriously at all.

“Nothing, princess,” Logan shrugs, his grin widening.

You roll your eyes at his nonchalance. “Sure.” Normally, on any other day, Logan would have you pinned beneath him or bent over his knee, spanking you until your skin is flushed and raw. But tonight, he finds it endearing to watch you take charge. So, instead of resisting, he decides to lean into it. In fact, he’s more than willing to let you explore this new dynamic and see just how far you’ll take it.

Then, you lean down and plant a soft kiss just beneath his ear, eliciting a deep groan from him. “Now sit back and watch. Let me take care of you,” you whisper seductively in his ear, your breath warm against his skin. With that, you glide toward the desk, feeling the thrill of anticipation coursing through you as you search for the perfect song to dance to.

A smile spreads across your face as you finally settle on a track that feels just right. Pressing play, the smooth beats of "Sway" by Majid Jordan fill the room, setting the mood with its sultry rhythm. As the music envelops you, you can sense Logan’s eyes on you, filled with a mix of curiosity and desire. The moment feels electric, and you know it’s time to give him a show he won’t forget.

You stride toward the bed, positioning yourself right in the center of the room, directly in front of him. As the singer begins to croon the lyrics, you let the robe slide down your shoulders, pausing just at your elbows, deliberately teasing him with each movement. Swaying your hips slowly to the beat of the song, you lick your lips, feeling the heat of his gaze on you.

With each deliberate motion, your hands glide slowly up and down your chest, accentuating your curves as you keep your eyes locked on his. You circle your hips, letting the rhythm guide you, fully aware of the effect it has on him. The air is thick with tension, and you can feel the desire radiating from him, fueling your confidence as you embrace the moment.

Temptation, conversation, I hear what you sayin'~♪

You lose yourself to the song as you move your body closer to his, still keeping a good distance between you two.

“Baby girl, you’re so hot…” Logan groans as his eyes admire your body, his eyes flicking back and forth from one place to the other like he doesn’t know where to look.

Playing safe but we're losing our patience~♪

With each sway (literally, like the title of the song) of your hips, you move to the rhythm of the song, feeling the music pulse through you as you notice his gaze tracing the curves of your body, lingering over every dip and contour.

The combination of his awestruck expression and your confident movements sends a thrill through you, urging you to keep going. You enjoy the way he watches, almost hypnotised, as you revel in the moment, fully aware that you’re in control.

Doin' things that my body is cravin'~♪

Your fingers wander from your hips to your backside and you squeeze your cheeks softly as you give Logan a show. The moment he sees you touching yourself like this, a low moan escapes his lips, and you can’t help but bite your own in response, revelling in the effect you have on him.

The pleasure of his gaze fuels your confidence, making you feel even more desirable. You relish the way he watches, captivated and hungry for more, as you continue to tease him, lost in the thrill of the moment.

So amazing the way that she moves~♪ She's my favorite dancer~♪

Seductively, you slowly turn around, then you sink yourself to the floor. Once on your knees, you crawl steadily towards him. As you’re slowly making your way to him, you’re never breaking eye contact as you smile up at him.

As you draw closer, you rise up onto your knees, your hands gliding along his ankles and tracing up to his thighs. You gently spread his legs wider, making room for yourself between them. Logan's breath hitches in his throat at your boldness, and you can’t help but smile coyly as you bite your bottom lip, savouring his reaction.

Your hands continue their journey, moving from his thighs to his hips and then to his waist, feeling the heat radiating off him. Slowly but sensually, you rise in front of him, each movement deliberate, exuding confidence and allure as you prepare to captivate him even further.

“You’re breathtaking…” he moans your name while your lips move to ghost over his lips. You feel and see his squirm against the hold of the handcuffs.

You smirk as you hover your hips over his lap. Using the music to your advantage, you move your body to the rhythm of the song, making sure to emphasise on your movements. Your arms around his neck as you slowly lower your lower body on his lap, sitting down, your heat against his clothed cock straining against his underwear. Pressing your needy and throbbing clit against his dick. His eyes are gazing into yours, all you can see is lust and desire. You grind against his crotch making Logan groan at your movements. Finally you lean down your lips against his, swallowing his moans in your mouth.

“You’re the prettiest little thing I’ve ever seen.” He whispers breathily against your lips as you continue your little performance, swaying and grinding your hips against his. You hum with a smile before you capture his lips again.

His mouth moves against yours, slow and passionate. He parts his lips slightly to catch his breath. Your tongue sweeps across Logan’s lips making him gasp, tongue wrapping itself against his a moment later, hot and wet and steady as you taste his mouth and kiss him deeply.

Your tongues slowly swirl and dance against each other as your hands wander all over his body. You feel your core clench around nothing and become even more wet the more you grind against him. You whimper at the feel of him bucking his hips against yours, wrapping your arms around his neck and initiating a hungry kiss. The thong you’re wearing surely ruined by now, clinging against your wet folds.

Soon the music would fade into the background as all you can focus on is him. Logan’s leaning his head forward as much as he can, wanting so badly to grab handfuls of your ass while slipping his tongue into your mouth. He moans into your mouth, biting and sucking on your bottom lip.

You begin to rock your hips against his, dragging your core over his crotch, the friction sending pleasurable sensations coursing through you. However, a wave of self-consciousness washes over you, leaving you unsure about how to proceed. Despite this uncertainty, you continue the movement, instinctively seeking relief for the ache building in your core.

Logan notices the hesitation in your movements, his perceptive gaze catching the flicker of insecurity in your eyes. He starts to thrust his hips against yours, urging you on. “Good girl, you can do it,” he says in his low, deep voice, the words igniting a whimper from your lips as you pick up the pace, guiding your hips a bit faster in response.

“Need you, kitten. Please, I need to feel you. Take these panties off,” he pleads, his tone dripping with desire. You shake your head, refusing to comply, which only draws a chuckle from him as he watches you squirm on top of him.

“I don’t take orders from you. I’ll choose when I want to take them off,” you retort, feeling a thrill of defiance as his eyes wander from your face to your soaked panties. The big wet spot at the front betrays just how much you want his cock filling you up, pushing deep inside and making a mess.

“Just you wait until I’m out of these,” Logan replies, maintaining that boyish smile that makes your heart race. You hardly care about his playful threat; instead, you steady yourself on his shoulders and keep grinding your clit against his clothed cock. He’s right about the panties, but you’re not about to let him dictate the moment. Reaching down, you push the fabric aside, letting your pussy lips glide against him, the contact sending shivers through your body.

“Oh, kitten,” he moans, captivated by the sight of your arousal dripping down onto his underwear. “Look at you.” His low, sultry voice sends a jolt of pleasure through you, the sensation of his throbbing cock against your wetness nearly overwhelming.

“Feels so fucking good,” you cry out, your eyes squeezing shut as waves of pleasure wash over you.

As the pressure builds toward your orgasm, you suddenly stand up, discarding the delicate lingerie that clings to you. As you’re undressing yourself in front of him he can’t help but growl. You glance at him cautiously, as he stares at you hungrily. You’re longing for him to taste you but feeling a hint of embarrassment about taking the initiative. It’s as if he can read your mind when he says, “Go ahead baby girl, let me taste you.” His encouragement sparks a rush of confidence within you, urging you to take control and fully embrace the moment.

His choice of words only heightens your arousal, making it feel as if he’s the one compelling you to act. Logan's cock is oozing with precum, and you can feel the dampness spreading on his underwear as you hook a leg over his shoulder, bringing yourself closer to him.

You stretch a bit uncomfortably in this position, but any discomfort fades away the moment he leans forward and licks from your entrance to the top of your clit.

A loud moan escapes you as his warm, wet tongue finally makes contact with your pussy. You sigh into the sensation, your eyes fluttering shut as you tangle your fingers in his hair, anchoring yourself as you urge him deeper. His tongue glides up your folds, skillfully exploring your puffy lips, occasionally pausing to plant soft kisses on your clit. He encircles your clit and sucks, pulling whimpering pleas from your mouth.

Logan groans against you, sending delicious vibrations coursing through your body as you tug on his hair, lost in the pleasure. You find yourself grinding your hips forward, desperately seeking more contact as your arousal drips down into his beard.

“That’s it, good girl, use my fuckin’ mouth,” he moans against you, taking your clit between his lips and sucking gently. He alternates between sucking it in and releasing it, the repetitive motion making your head spin. “Taste so good.”

“Fuck, Lo—” you whine as you grind yourself against his lips.

Each flick and tug sends you spiralling, and you begin to whine, yearning for his large fingers to fill your tight little hole. Frustration simmers beneath the surface as you slip deeper into that precious sub headspace, becoming acutely aware of his restrained hands. Logan picks up on your shift in mood immediately.

“Please, Lo,” you cry out, desperation lacing your voice. You need him so badly it borders on painful.

“Please, what?” he retorts, then dives his tongue into your clenching hole, making you gasp. He groans, fucking your little pussy with his tongue, his nose brushing tantalizingly over your clit. “This is what you wanted, ain’t that right?”

“F-fuck, ah, I’m gonna c-cum,” you gasp, urgency spilling from your lips instead of a question. The relentless contact of his nose against your sensitive clit pushes you to the edge, and your pussy contracts around his tongue, releasing a wave of pleasure. You scream his name repeatedly, tugging at his hair with a mix of urgency and desperation, your ears ringing as the world around you fades into bliss, unaware of the metal cuffs breaking free.

You can feel his hands on your skin, the heat of your orgasm squirting out of you, painting his mouth beautifully as he continues to feast on your cunt. You breathe heavily as Logan moans loudly at the sweet taste of you, feeling both blissed out and utterly exposed.

You’re still coming down from your high when suddenly, you yelp in surprise as he lifts you with ease, your trembling legs instinctively wrapping around his body. In one fluid motion, Logan throws you onto the bed, and a whine escapes your lips as you feel the familiar neediness surge within you, your pussy so slick and wanting for more.

He pulls his boxers down, letting his erection finally spring free. Logan’s thick and big cock is so hard, dripping with precum and you almost whimper at the sight of it. He then makes his way up to the bed. Situating himself between your legs he smiles deviously.

Oh—

“Get on your hands and knees for me, kitten. I’ll show you who’s in control.”

Your cheeks flare up furiously at his request, you feel your body trembling with excitement as you flip on your stomach, getting on your hands and knees, your face down on the mattress as you raise your ass in the air for him. Logan groans when you wiggle for him, spreading your legs a bit more for him exposing more of your pussy.

You bite your bottom lip and can’t help getting even more aroused as you think about finally having him inside.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby. All dripping wet for me,” he whispers to you and you feel his fingers sliding up and down your slit and then opening your folds for him to see.

You wanted to tell him how he’s the only one that can do this to you, how much you love him, but then he grabs both of your ass cheeks in his hands, parting them as he quickly leans down and licks up your exposed pussy, catching you completely by surprise making you almost fall on the bed, your arms almost giving out on you.

You feel your inner walls clenching around nothing as he keeps licking up and down and sucking on your clit. When you whine, his tongue swirls around your entrance.

“F-fuck, s-so sensitive. Da-daddy please, oh—”

But then he pulls his lips away from your lower ones and you whimper desperately at the loss of the feeling of his tongue, only to have him kiss your lower back and up your spine, hands sliding up and down your body.

“Please,” you whine pathetically.

You can't see it, but he's smiling down at you, shaking his head as he revels in his victory over the battle for control. “What happened, baby? Suddenly you need my help?”

You shake your head yes rapidly, not caring how desperate you look. “Please, please, I’ll be good for you, please. I’ll be your good girl.”

“I thought you wanted to be in control,” he pokes fun at you, his hips not touching as he places soft kisses down your back. You wish he was fucking into you already. You start to whine when you feel his thumb press into your clit. He doesn’t move it at all, just applies slight pressure and lets it rest there. “But you need your daddy, don’t you? You need me so badly. Pathetic little kitty.”

“I-I do,” you gasp, frustrated by his unmoving thumb. Your body is trembling in anticipation. “Please daddy.”

A moment later you feel him grind his thick cock against your dripping heat, you’re aching for him to fill you up. A loud moan fills the room along with your whines, with a strong grip on your hips a second later he eases the tip inside, making you gasp as your whole body trembles.

“Please…” You whine desperately as you feel him halt his movements, a small portion of the tip only inside you. Wiggling your hips you try to push back against him but the strong hold that he has on you makes it hard for you to move.

“Patience baby girl,”

You whimper as he finally slides more and more of his thickness inside of you. You squeeze your eyes tightly as he fills you up. The pressure of his cock deep within your walls overwhelms you while you clutch the sheets below you in tight fists.

“Take it, princess. Take daddy’s cock.”

Then his massive cock is completely splitting you open. Logan thrusts his whole length into you, black dots cover your vision at the feeling of it. Your pussy pulses around him as you struggle to adjust to his size.

“Ah, fuck!” Tears are already dripping down your face onto the mattress. His cock is so big, long and hard and he makes your pussy and tummy feel so full of him.

You whimper at the new angle, struggling to accommodate his impressive girth. It feels as though your pussy can never fully adjust to his size. As your walls squeeze around him, trying to adapt, Logan uses more force to push deeper, stretching you further. The sensation is intense, almost overwhelming, as it feels like you’re being torn open, split in half by his thickness.

“Oh, sweet girl. I’ve got you,” he soothes and starts moving, fucking you at an impossible pace. The sound of your ass slapping against him fills the room along with both of your frantic moans. His heavy balls are hitting against your clit with every thrust. The feeling is heaven on earth.

All you can answer with are moans as they slip off your lips. Your mind goes blank as all you can do is focus on the feel of him stretching you, filling you up, so overwhelmed with bliss already. He thrusts deeper inside you, earning whines and moans as you continue to cry out his name. You try to tell Logan, breathlessly, about how good he makes you feel. The sound of your pleasure fuels his desire to fuck you better, urging him to do more. Logan picks up his pace, thrusting into you quicker, harder, hitting the spot that has your body going numb.

You claw at the sheets, burying your face into the mattress to muffle your screams. The air is all stuffy around you as his hips move faster, you whine as you try to push back your hips against his to take more of his thick cock. He moans at the sight, kneading your ass as he tries to bury himself more inside you, the tip hitting your cervix instantly. Your eyes roll back inside your head as you dig your fingers more into the bed, you mewl against the sheets at the overwhelming pleasure he’s giving you.

“F-fuck fuck fuck, this feels so goooohhhood daddy, p-please more…”

“Yeah? You love being filled with all of my cock don’t you?” He grunts as he slaps your ass once, making you cry out in pleasure. Your moans grow louder with each movement, blending with the slick sounds of your pussy meeting his dick over and over again. The sounds mix along with the little noises of pleasure escaping your mouth.

“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” Logan asks as he leans down his body closer to yours making him hit your cervix repeatedly. You whimper and tremble underneath him as you nod, he moans against your ear as he whispers close to you. “Does it feel good? That I’m fucking you like this? Just the way you like it.”

“Yes, daddy. Fuck, please… Can I please cum?” you ask this time, completely out of breath.

“No, you little brat,” Logan growls, picking up the pace even more. He grabs you by your hair, jerks your head up and pulls you back towards him. “Patience.”

The delicious thrusts of his cock don’t falter as he presses your back into his chest. He wraps a strong hand around your throat, and the other arm holds you steady by the waist.

“I can’t, I can’t,” you whimper repeatedly, your body trembling with need.

“Oh, I know you can,” he says aggressively. “I know you fuckin’ can. And you will.”

He grinds his hips in circles, and you nearly scream from the overwhelming sensation. You desperately try to hold back the orgasm that's building rapidly, clenching your pussy tightly around his thick cock. He lets out deep moans at the feeling of you, fully aware that he’s close to cumming but wanting to savour your pussy for just a little longer. Logan slows his pace slightly, giving both of you a brief moment to catch your breath before he picks up the rhythm again, quick and rough.

“Look so pretty when you’re stretched around my cock, fuck, bet you look pretty full of my cum too.” Logan cursed when you purposefully tighten your walls around him. “I’m gonna fill this pussy up, kitten, make it all nice and full,” he promises.

The head of his cock rubs against your walls deliciously, snapping you out of your small daze as you nod frantically. “Yes, yesyes please. Fill me up daddy!” You’re whimpering with every thrust of his cock.

“Tell me who’s in control and I’ll let you cum,” he says slowly into your ear, grip around your throat tightening a bit and making the feeling that more intense.

“You, Lo,” you manage to get out, “Always you.”

“Cum on my cock then,” Logan gives you permission. Another few thrusts is all it takes to send you over the edge, shouting out his name as your ears ring from the pressure. You’re on cloud nine as you let your body relax and feel the brutal pounding of his cock. It drags inside of you so perfectly, hitting every sweet spot you have. Your needy cunt is clenching, throbbing, and milking his cock while you cum all over him. Logan groans in your ear as your walls spasm around his cock, milking him for his orgasm, desperate for him to fill you up the way he promised. “This pussy was made for me. So fuckin’ tight wrapped around me.”

Your cum drips down both of your legs, coating his cock and balls, quickly forming a wet spot on the sheets beneath you. As the waves of your orgasm wash over you, Logan talks you through it, whispering dirty nothings in your ear. He gasps as you pulse around him, desperate for him to spill his load inside you, needing to witness him fall apart.

“Ah, shit—” he rasps, thrusting deeper, the bulbous head of his cock hitting your cervix with delicious force. “Are you going to take my cum like a good girl? Let me fill you up until you’re a messy little thing, hm?”

You shiver at his words, your mouth dropping open in awe as you close your eyes, completely lost in the sensation, nodding eagerly. “Please, please.”

Moments later, you feel him unravel against you, and soon his cum starts to shoot deep inside you.

“Fuck, just like that,” he breathes, his voice thick with pleasure. “Such a good baby girl.”

As his thrusts come to a complete stop, he pulls out of you, and you let your body fall limp against the mattress, feeling utterly drained. Soon Logan wraps an arm around you, effortlessly spinning you around to pull you against his chest. He kisses you softly, and you moan at the taste of yourself still on his lips. As he pulls away, he gazes down at you with soft eyes and a charming smile, the warmth of the moment enveloping you both.

“Sorry for ruining your little plan,” Logan teases gently, a playful glint in his eyes.

“No, that’s okay,” you reply quickly, smiling up at him. “I figured I’d give it a try… but I feel like I’m not that great at it.”

He shakes his head, leaning closer. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, sweet girl. That was so fuckin' hot. In fact, I might want you to try it again.”

“Yeah?” you ask, your eyes brightening at his praise.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Maybe next time, I can teach you a thing or two about taking control.”

“Really?” You smile happily, your fingers running through his messy dark hair.

“Mhm,” he hums, his heart swelling at your excitement.

Biting your lip bashfully, you shrug, looking up at him with a shy smile. “I much prefer having you in control, though.”

“That so?” Logan smirks mischievously, his hands beginning to wander all over your body, reigniting the familiar heat between you.

“Yes, you’re so hot when you’re dominant,” you giggle, leaning up to cover Logan’s face with playful kisses.

“Oh, just when I’m dominant?” he teases, smirking down at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Logan, you know what I mean!” you pout, continuing to pepper kisses all over his face. “You’re always hot!”

Logan chuckles, his deep voice vibrating through you as he gently cups your cheeks with both hands, trying to capture your lips. Once he does, he presses a series of quick, light pecks against your mouth, grinning widely. You giggle against him, the sound filling the space between you both as he keeps chasing your lips, clearly enjoying the lighthearted moment.

“I love you so much, baby. You mean everything to me,” Logan murmurs against your lips, his voice low and full of emotion. You wrap your arms around his back, pulling him closer as his warmth surrounds you.

With a gentle roll, Logan shifts your bodies, laying you down so your back sinks into the softness of the blankets and pillows. His lips never leave yours as you feel yourself getting lost in the kiss, his hands still cradling your face, his thumb brushing tenderly across the skin under your eyes.

“You’re everything to me too, Lo,” you whisper, your voice soft and full of affection, a smile tugging at your lips. “I love you.”

You’re both basking in each other’s presence, the quiet intimacy between you settling into something warm and peaceful. The earlier rush of passion has given way to a serene calmness, where even the soft rhythm of your breaths seems to sync together. Logan’s fingers trace idle patterns on your skin, and you feel completely at ease, wrapped in his embrace.

Then, just as you’re lulled into this tranquil moment, you notice a familiar gleam of mischief in Logan’s eyes. His hands slowly slide down to your hips, fingers pressing lightly against your skin in a way that sends a subtle thrill through you. He caresses you slowly, and the soft strokes make your body stir.

With a playful grin, he leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmurs, “Another round?” His voice is teasing but full of intent, a promise of what’s to come. You feel the shift in his energy, playful yet laced with the kind of desire that tells you he’s far from finished with you tonight.

“Logan!” you giggle, giving him a playful push, but he only grins wider. In a swift motion, he pulls you close again, silencing your laughter with a deep, passionate kiss. Your playful giggles soon turn into soft, breathy moans as his hands roam your body, and yours do the same, tracing the familiar lines of his muscles.

The night unfolds in a tangle of kisses and wandering hands, the air between you charged with love and desire. Every touch, every kiss, is a reminder of the bond you share, and the passion between you feels endless. The world fades away, and all that remains is Logan. His touch, his gaze, and the warmth of his presence pull you in, leaving you completely lost in him.

thank you for reading <3 mwah

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lizzyiii · 1 month ago

Note

Can I make a request? Homelander falling for a reader who is completely unaware of it. Not because he's good at hiding it but because, they genuinely can't fathom the thought of someone being that intense with their feelings about THEM of all people👀 but their the only person who's genuinely kind to him.

I'm sooooo sorry this took so long

Love and Devotion

pairing | homelander x supe!reader

word count | 5.8k words

summary | homelander becomes increasingly obsessed with the new kind and unsuspecting supe, and fixates on her as his perfect match, believing she belongs to him. his possessiveness reaches new heights after discovering intimate details about her powers, pushing him to claim her as his own, regardless of her obliviousness to his feelings.

tags | canon homelander??? obsession, possessiveness, season 4 timeline, major fluff, tell me if you think it ooc homelander, lactating kink

a/n | first homelander fic, this was sooooo fun to write and yes I did rewatch season 4 for this

likes, comments, reblogs are always appreciated ✨

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

You were perfect from the moment he laid eyes on you.

"Her?"

Homelander’s voice dripped with disdain as he watched Firecracker spewing her rant about family values and patriotism, all while waving her hands around. She reminded him of a third-rate talk show host. He grimaced, turning to Sage.

"Yeah," Sage responded, standing at his side.

"Really?" he sneered, barely able to mask his disgust.

"Mhm," Sage hummed in affirmation.

"Seems like she fell off her Jet Ski one too many times," Homelander muttered, his lip curling.

Sage, unbothered by his sarcasm, simply shook her head. "No, now that Starlight’s back leading the Starlighters, we need someone like her."

Homelander raised a skeptical eyebrow. "Mm. And that’s gonna shut them up?" He knew exactly what "them" meant: the endless critics, social media commentators, all the noise that clawed at his mind.

"No," Sage replied, her voice low and cryptic. "She’s going to make them louder."

He shot her a look. "You gonna trust me or not?" she added before he could question it further.

Rolling his eyes, he turned his gaze elsewhere. He was growing tired of these briefings, the endless parade of new supes Vought was parading through. But then, his eyes landed on you.

You were surrounded by a group of eager reporters, microphones pushed into your face. Unlike Firecracker, who couldn't stop her loud, brash performance, you were different. You weren't reciting hollow slogans or pandering to anyone. You stood there with an almost serene composure, answering each question softly, with a gentle smile. There was something…sincere in the way you spoke, like you actually cared about the answers, not just the headlines they’d create.

"And what about her?" Homelander murmured, his gaze locked on you as if he were seeing something unexpected for the first time.

"The Pink Dahlia," Sage said, repeating your supe name as though it was obvious. "She’s going to be the new Starlight."

Homelander frowned, feeling a flicker of confusion. The new Starlight? That seemed impossible. No one could ever replace that bitch's popularity, her…adoring fanbase. But Sage seemed to sense his thoughts, elaborating with an almost bored tone.

"The only reason Starlight is liked is because of her sincerity. Her kindness," Sage explained, nodding towards you. "Pink Dahlia is going to be America’s next sweetheart supe."

Homelander hummed, though his mind was elsewhere, distracted by the sight of you. Sage was talking, but he was no longer listening. Instead, he watched as the cameras captured your every move. For a moment, you glanced in his direction. Not out of fear or awe, but with that same quiet softness you gave to everyone. It unnerved him how unaffected you seemed by his presence, by who he was.

He wanted to look away, but he couldn’t.

Sage dragged him into yet another pointless debate, but his attention was only half there. He knew she’d eventually let it go once she realized his disinterest, and sure enough, she did. He was quick to pass her along to the vultures—photographers desperate to get the next "supe girl" in their lenses.

As Homelander turned, his gaze landed on Ryan, sulking in one of the chairs at the back of the room. Frustration boiled inside him. He couldn’t stand seeing his son like that, so withdrawn, when the whole world was theirs.

But then, his brow furrowed. You had walked over, leaving the cameras behind. Quietly, you sat beside Ryan, the two of you almost invisible in the flurry of the room. He watched as you offered your hand to Ryan, a gentle smile on your face. His son, who had been lost in his own thoughts, blinked in surprise before hesitantly shaking your hand.

For the first time in hours, Homelander saw the tension leave Ryan’s shoulders. His usual sulk was replaced with something lighter. He listened to whatever you were saying, nodding slowly. Homelanders listened carefully to your sweet words, and watched how they were clearly having an effect on Ryan.

Interesting.

Homelander had too many fucking things going on for his mind to keep circling back to you. It irritated him, gnawed at him like an itch he couldn’t scratch.

First, the rage that boiled up every time he saw those goddamn Starlighter protests. He could hardly walk outside without hearing people chant for Starlight’s bullshit message, waving their signs, spewing their anti-Homelander garbage. It infuriated him. Then there was the constant frustration in dealing with Neuman. She was slippery, always too clever, too calm, and it made every negotiation with her feel like wading through quicksand.

But every time his temper cooled, his thoughts went back to you. You. That sweet, unassuming smile that you flashed so casually, like it wasn’t the most perfect thing he’d ever seen. And then there was your body—tight and perfect in that small pink and green suit, looking like you belonged on a magazine cover instead of here, in this hellhole with people like him.

It made him furious.

How could he let himself be distracted by you, when everything else around him was crumbling? He was supposed to be in control, but instead, he was falling apart. First he let that fucking loser Hughie get away. Then, Ryan—his own son—had the nerve to run off to see Butcher after everything Homelander had given him. After all the time and care he’d put into Ryan, after showing him the world, how was he still not good enough?

It made him sick.

And then... and then there was the other thing. His reflection. The part of him that never shut up, that always knew where to strike. His other self had looked at him and sneered. Told him he was weak, that he was a joke. That no matter how much power he had, no matter how feared he was, he was still nothing.

And maybe it was right. Maybe he was losing it.

So he decided to visit home. The lab. Where they had made him. Where he had been molded into the strongest supe to ever walk the earth. He’d slaughtered every single one of the scientists who had "raised" him. He stood in the sterile halls, the faint hum of the machines still active around him. The silence made him feel grounded, like this was the only place in the world where he could truly be himself.

But it wasn’t enough. Not anymore.

Not when the image of you—your smile, your soft gaze, your kindness—kept seeping into his mind. You were a weakness he couldn’t afford. And that filled him with even more rage.

And yet the moment he saw your face, all that rage he had been holding onto evaporated like steam. The blood, the anger, the frustration—it all seemed distant as he took in the worried expression on your face.

He had strolled back into Vought Tower like nothing was wrong, though his suit was still soaked in the blood and viscera of the scientists he’d butchered in the lab. It didn’t matter—he was Homelander, after all. No one would dare question him. But fate must have been laughing at him because, of all people, he ran straight into you.

You froze when you saw him, your eyes widening in pure shock at the sight of him covered in carnage. Anyone else would have been horrified, would have run or screamed, but not you. Instead, your lips parted and, with that same quiet softness he had come to expect, you said, “Would you like some help?”

Homelander just stared, his mind slowing to a crawl as the words sank in. He was a god, covered in the blood of men, and here you were, offering help. Something inside him shifted in that moment. He nodded, feeling strangely empty and vulnerable, like a child waiting for instructions. In the back of his mind, he realized this was the first time you had actually spoken to him directly.

His chest tightened as you stepped closer, your eyes flicking up to his with cautious concern. You reached out and gently placed your pink-gloved hand into his red, blood-stained one. Homelander nearly closed his eyes, focusing intently on the warmth of your touch. That warmth—it spread through him, melting away the sharp edges of his anger. No one touched him like that, without fear or calculation.

You led him silently into the elevator, your hand still in his, guiding him like he was something fragile. He couldn't help but glance down at your hand in his, his mind spinning as he tried to commit the sensation to memory. The touch wasn’t just physical—it felt like a lifeline, something pulling him out of the darkness he had been sinking into.

As the elevator doors slid shut, the quiet hum of the building surrounded them, and Homelander found himself focusing solely on you. You didn’t flinch. You didn’t recoil. You just held his hand, gently, as if leading him somewhere safe. He didn’t feel like a monster in that moment, not in your presence.

The elevator dinged softly, and you led him down the hall to your floor. The sight was unlike anything in Vought Tower—lush greenery, vibrant pinks and soft petals blooming everywhere. It felt alive, warm. This was your power after all, to bend nature to your will. And it was a reflection of you, full of life, soft but powerful. He was surprised it was even still Vought Tower.

He hadn’t expected you to bring him here. You could’ve taken him to his own floor, left him in one of the pristine, sterile bathrooms of his suite. But no—you’d brought him to your space, a sanctuary. It was so unlike the cold, artificial world of Vought. And so much like you.

Slowly, you guided him to the bathroom. The plants trailed along the walls, the air fragrant with the scent of blooming flowers. You looked up at him, blinking those wide, soft eyes of yours. A single word entered his mind: Fawn. You looked like a fawn, delicate and innocent, standing before something dangerous without any idea of what it could do to you.

“Do you want me to leave?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

He shook his head, unable to find the words to speak. Still entranced by you, he wondered how you could be so kind, so gentle, to someone like him. Anyone else would have left him to clean himself up in cold silence, but you…you stayed.

You nodded quietly, as if you understood, then turned to the bath, filling it with warm water. He watched you bite your lip in thought, and all he could think about was biting your lip himself. His gaze lingered on your mouth, and for a split second, he imagined pulling you close, feeling that softness against his own. But instead, he remained silent, his breath heavy as you carefully and gently began to undress him.

He couldn’t remember the last time anyone had touched him with such care. You didn’t fumble or stare, didn’t sneak a lustful glance as you removed his suit piece by piece. You were entirely respectful, your touch light, focused on the task. And when you led him to sink into the bath, your hands still guiding him, he realized that you weren’t treating him like Homelander. You weren’t treating him like a god. You were treating him like…a person.

The warm water surrounded him, washing away the blood and grime. But what made him feel truly clean was your touch. You knelt by the tub, peeling off your pink gloves, and began washing him with your bare hands. He could feel your skin against his, the warmth of your palms gliding over his body.

He had to fight to keep from shivering. The sensation of your skin on his—bare and vulnerable—sent a wave of euphoria through him. It was unlike anything he’d ever felt. This wasn’t lust. This was something deeper, something far more dangerous. He was intoxicated by you, not because of what you were doing, but because of who you were. The softness, the care, the genuine kindness…it was all so foreign to him.

And as you worked in silence, cleaning away the blood, he realized with a start that he never wanted this feeling to end.

Homelander couldn’t take his eyes off you as you washed him. Every gentle stroke of your hands sent a ripple of pleasure through him, and though his eyes begged to close, he refused. He needed to see you. To watch you, to take in every movement, every touch. Your fingers slid through his hair, and for a moment, he almost gave in—almost let his eyes flutter shut and just melt into the sensation. But his gaze stayed locked on you, intense and unyielding.

You could feel his stare, that much was clear, yet you didn’t say a word. You just kept working, silent and serene. And it started to bother him, gnawing at him. How could you be so quiet, so unaffected by his presence? He needed to hear your voice again. He craved it, like a drug, something to soothe the irritation building inside him.

“Talk to me,” he said, the words slipping out in a petulant tone he hadn’t meant to use. But he didn’t care. He wanted your attention, your words, your everything.

Your eyes met his, wide and curious, like you were studying him, trying to figure him out. You tilted your head, and once again, the thought struck him—fawn. That was what you reminded him of. A fawn, delicate and gentle, standing before a predator without realizing the danger.

You pursed your lips, thinking carefully about what to say, and for just a second, Homelander finally closed his eyes. He wanted to focus solely on your voice. Nothing else mattered. Just you.

“I named myself Pink Dahlia because my favorite color is pink,” you began, your sweet voice filling the room like music, “and dahlias symbolize love and devotion.”

His eyes snapped open.

Love and devotion. The words echoed in his mind like a gunshot, shattering every other thought. You kept talking, explaining something about flower meanings and other potential supe names you’d considered, but Homelander didn’t give a fuck about that. None of that mattered. All he could focus on was love and devotion.

It was a sign. It had to be. You were made for him. There was no other explanation. How could it be a coincidence that the one person who treated him with kindness, who looked at him without fear, had chosen a name that embodied exactly what he wanted from you? Exactly what he needed. Love and devotion.

His chest tightened with the realization, his mind spinning with the possibilities. You would love him. You would be devoted to him completely. It was inevitable. Fate had brought you into his life for a reason.

As you continued to speak, your voice soft and calming, he stared at you, consumed by the thought of it—how perfect it would be. You, by his side, loyal and loving, filling the void that no one else could. The world would bow before him, but you…you would worship him in the way he craved, in a way no one ever had.

You were starting to seriously piss him off. The way you acted, pretending like nothing had happened between you, like the connection between you wasn’t so strong it practically vibrated in the air. You carried on as if the two of you didn’t share something deeper, something unspoken but undeniable. It was infuriating.

Then again, if you had acknowledged it—if you’d brought it up and confronted him about it—he probably would’ve blown a fucking gasket. His control was fragile enough as it was.

But trying to talk to you? That was a whole other level of frustration. Every time you looked up at him with those soft, gentle eyes, and gave him that sweet, unassuming smile, all the words in his head vanished. Just gone. Like you had some kind of power over him that even he didn’t understand.

So, he did the only thing he could think of to get you closer—he forced The Deep to move, ordering him to sit somewhere else, so that you could sit right next to him. He wasn’t subtle about it, either. He didn’t care if anyone noticed. As long as you were close, that was all that mattered.

Then came the Vought V52 Expo, and Homelander could feel the agitation building inside him. He needed to talk to you, to make you see what was right in front of you, but the timing was never right. On the bright side, things were going well with Ryan. He was bonding with his son, teaching him to stand up for himself, to say no when he needed to. It felt…good, like he was finally getting through to him.

But by the time they got to the V52 Expo, the agitation had grown into something much sharper. His eyes tracked you across the stage, watching as you announced your new environmental awareness project—the Dahlia Project. Fans were cheering for you, screaming your name, and you looked so damn perfect up there.

You were smiling, waving to the crowd, talking passionately about your cause, and the noise of the crowd was deafening. But all Homelander could think about was how you hadn’t even looked at him once. Not a glance. Not a dedication. Nothing.

He watched you with cold, calculated eyes, trying to keep the growing frustration in check. You were good at this, at drawing people in, making them adore you. But how could you not see that you already had him? That no one else in the crowd mattered compared to him?

And as the fans continued to cheer, his grip tightened around the milkshake he’d bought for you. He needed to speak to you. To make you understand. And the longer you went on, the more he realized—this wasn’t just about getting closer to you anymore. It was about making sure you knew that you belonged to him.

Homelander was standing with Ryan, guiding him through yet another lesson in asserting control. Ryan had been eager to "help" people, to really understand what that meant. So, when Homelander saw an opportunity, he called over Adam—the Vought employee who had been making his assistant visibly uncomfortable with inappropriate advances.

Ryan’s eyes narrowed skeptically, his young face twisting in uncertainty as he looked at the assistant. “Um… is he making you uncomfortable? You can tell me. You won’t get in trouble.”

The assistant bit her lip nervously before nodding, her voice hesitant but honest. “Kind of… yeah.”

Homelander raised an eyebrow, turning his attention to Ryan. “Ryan, what do you think we should do about that?”

Ryan hesitated, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. He still hadn’t fully grasped the power he held, and Homelander could sense his uncertainty, the hesitation that made his own patience wear thin. With a sigh, he glanced away—only for his eyes to land on you, walking past with that usual air of calm about you.

“Dahlia,” he called, his voice a little sharper than he intended. “Come over here.”

You looked up at him, eyebrows raised in that sweet, expectant way that only made him more agitated, and walked over without hesitation, your eyes scanning the scene as you assessed the situation.

“What’s up?” you asked simply.

Homelander smiled, the kind of smile that didn’t reach his eyes, and gestured to Adam. “Adam here has been making some inappropriate advances toward his assistant. What do you have to say about that?”

Even Ryan turned to you, waiting for your response. Homelander watched you closely, studying the way you furrowed your brows in genuine concern as you looked at Adam.

“I think,” you said carefully, “that there’s no excuse for making someone else uncomfortable. And it’s even worse when you know you’re doing it.”

Homelander’s smile widened at your answer. It was perfect—clear, direct, and moral, just like he expected from you. There was a subtle pride in the way you spoke, and it fed into his own sense of approval. You were playing right into his hands without even realizing it.

Your words seemed to be the push Ryan needed, as he turned to Adam, his voice gaining confidence. “Apologize,” Ryan commanded, the hint of authority in his tone surprising even himself. When Adam hesitated, Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Now.”

Adam stated an obviously insincere apology, and Ryan, growing bolder by the second, looked at the assistant. “I want you to slap him.”

Homelander’s gaze snapped to you, watching intently for your reaction. You didn’t flinch. Instead, you seemed to consider the situation with a quiet thoughtfulness, your expression showing no sign of discomfort. You didn’t object or look shocked—in fact, there was a hint of agreement in the way you nodded lightly. You understood the need to make a point, to assert control.

Homelander couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. Not just in Ryan, but in you. The way you navigated the situation with clarity, how you stood by his side and reinforced his lessons without even realizing it—it only confirmed what he already knew.

You belonged with him.

The moment his resolve truly snapped was at Tek Knight’s party. Everything had already spiraled out of control. A-Train and Firecracker were nowhere to be found, MIA at a critical time. And when it was time for the big speech to the GOP donors, Sage was acting as if she’d had a fucking lobotomy, leaving Homelander to take over.

The minute he started speaking, they questioned him. Him. They criticized him as if he wasn’t the most powerful man in the room, as if he wasn’t Homelander. His hand twitched, and he was one second away from lasering through every single one of those smug, entitled bastards. But then Neuman stepped in, pulling the conversation back on track and rallying the support he was seconds from obliterating.

He stalked away, seething. And that’s when he saw it—him—one of the donor’s sons talking to you. But it wasn’t just talking. He recognized the look in that guy’s eyes, the casual leaning in, the way his hand brushed against your arm like it was nothing.

Homelander’s chest tightened with a slow, burning jealousy, the kind that clawed at him from the inside. His grip on the glass tightened, but for the moment, he held himself in check. Barely. When that loser touched your arm, though, that’s when it snapped. His entire facade shattered.

In his mind, that small touch was a violation. You belonged to him. Whether you knew it yet or not, it was already decided. And this idiot was crossing a line no one should ever have the nerve to approach.

His reaction started subtly—at first. His smile stiffened, his eyes narrowed with an icy focus. He moved toward you with the kind of charm that made people believe he was still in control, but inside, he was already a storm waiting to break.

Homelander slid smoothly between you and the man, a calculated smile plastered on his friendly. “Everything alright here?” His voice was polite, but there was an edge, a tension simmering just beneath the surface.

You blinked up at him, surprised but unsuspecting, nodding lightly. “Yeah, of course. This is Jason Wilson, the District Attorney’s son. We’re just talking.”

Just talking. Homelander’s smile grew tighter. Logically, he knew that. But logic had no place here. The jealousy gnawed at him, irrational, violent, and all-consuming. Without hesitation, he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer in a way that left no room for doubt. “We wouldn’t want things to get inappropriate, now would we?”

Jason froze, his eyes widening slightly, clearly unnerved by the sudden shift. Homelander’s stare bore into him, a silent warning not to take another step, not to even breathe in your direction. Jason stammered an awkward excuse and quickly retreated, leaving you and Homelander alone.

You frowned up at him, clearly confused by the sudden shift in his mood. “What was that about?”

Homelander didn’t answer right away. Instead, his grip on your waist tightened, enough that you’d feel the strength behind it—enough that you couldn’t pull away easily. He quietly steered you toward a more secluded corner of the room, away from prying eyes. His voice dropped to a low, dangerous tone, his lips close to your ear. “You shouldn’t let people touch you like that,” he said, barely keeping his rage in check. “Not when you’re with me.”

You blinked, utterly confused, your brows knitting together in that way he both adored and despised. “I don’t understand. I’m not… with you.”

His jaw clenched. The words stung, hitting him harder than any physical blow could. You didn’t understand yet. You didn’t see what he saw, didn’t feel what he felt. But you would. You had to.

Homelander let out a hollow chuckle, raising his hands in mock surrender. “You don’t understand. It’s fine, I’ll forgive you for that.” His tone dripped with condescension as if he were talking to a child. He then pointed between the two of you, his expression hardening. “You and me—we belong together. Which makes you mine.”

You stared at him, completely lost, your mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping for air. The confusion in your eyes only seemed to amuse him further. You were so oblivious, so innocent, and it both frustrated and thrilled him. Finally, you managed to speak, your voice soft and uncertain. “I thought you were interested in Firecracker.”

Homelander’s face scrunched up in pure disgust, his lip curling as if you had just said something vile. “What? No. Ew. No.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, looking around as if there were hidden cameras capturing this bizarre moment, half-expecting this to be some kind of elaborate joke. “Oh.”

Then you turned back to him, your wide eyes filled with genuine surprise, lips pouting slightly as you asked, “You… like me?”

The way you said it—so innocent, so utterly unaware—made his chest tighten. Like wasn’t even close to what he felt for you. He needed you. You were everything he’d been waiting for, the one pure thing in a world full of filth and betrayal. But the fact that you couldn’t even comprehend why someone like him would be interested in you… It only made his obsession stronger.

He smiled, soft and almost tender, his previous irritation and jealousy melting away in the face of your cluelessness. “Like doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he murmured, his voice lower now, dripping with an intensity that sent a shiver through the air. He stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours with an unsettling focus. “You’re perfect. You’re everything.”

He reached out, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the gesture intimate but laced with possessiveness. “You just don’t see it yet. But you will.”

You blinked up at him, still dazed, still confused, your mind struggling to process what was happening. But in his mind, it was already decided. You were his—had been from the moment he laid eyes on you. And soon enough, you’d understand that too.

Homelander cupped your face as though you were the most delicate thing in existence, his touch surprisingly gentle for someone capable of such monstrous strength. His heart raced as he leaned in, finally close enough to taste the softness of your lips—something he’d craved for what felt like an eternity. He could already imagine how perfect you’d feel, how right it would be.

But before his lips could meet yours, your hand quickly covered his mouth. "Wait," you said, eyes wide with sudden embarrassment.

His eyes snapped open, irritation flashing in them, his impatience barely concealed. "What?" he grunted, his voice muffled by your hand.

You hesitated, biting your lip nervously, avoiding his intense gaze as you finally explained, “My lips… they’re poisonous.”

His brows furrowed in confusion, and you removed your hand, looking even more embarrassed. “They contain a toxin,” you said softly, as if confessing a dark secret. “It gives anyone who kisses me a high, raises their heart rate until they get a heart attack… and die.”

A heavy silence followed as you waited for his reaction, expecting rejection or disgust. But Homelander’s eyes gleamed with something entirely different. Instead of pulling away, he just shrugged as if the danger you posed was trivial to him. "Fuck it," he muttered with a smirk, his hands tightening around your cheeks.

Before you could protest again, he pulled you into a kiss, his lips crashing against yours with a hunger that bordered on madness.

The moment your lips met, Homelander let out a low, primal groan of pleasure. The sensation of your mouth against his was everything he’d imagined—and more. He could feel the toxin you had warned him about seeping into his bloodstream, but instead of fear, it only fueled the euphoria rushing through him. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, deepening the kiss, his desire consuming every rational thought.

The high from your poison made him feel invincible, like every dark, twisted part of him was being set free. The world outside—its chaos, its disappointments, its endless betrayals—faded into nothing. All that mattered was you. He felt light, weightless, as though he could fly to the edge of the universe with you in his arms.

And as the toxin worked its way through his system, the sensation of bliss became all-consuming. He didn’t just want to kiss you—he wanted to devour you, to possess you completely, body and soul. Every kiss, every taste of you, made the thought of losing you unbearable.

He deepened the kiss, his grip on your face tightening, every muscle in his body screaming with pleasure. He didn’t care about the risk, didn’t care that you could kill him. In that moment, he belonged to you, utterly and completely, and he’d die a thousand deaths for this feeling. The darkness inside him surged, but for once, it didn’t feel like a curse. With you, it felt like freedom.

Homelander had never been high in his entire existence, but if this was what it felt like—well, it was fucking spectacular. Every nerve in his body buzzed with euphoria, his muscles relaxed in a way that felt almost foreign to him, and everything around him suddenly seemed amusing, even absurd. He laughed—really laughed—as he flew the two of you back to Vought Tower, the wind whipping through his hair as if the world itself couldn’t touch him.

When he landed on your balcony, a wide grin stretched across his face, a rare glint of pure joy in his eyes. You looked up at him, bemused, as he stumbled slightly, his usually poised demeanor replaced with a boyish charm. He couldn’t stop smiling. “How long does this last?” he asked, his voice light with the toxin’s effects.

You chuckled softly as you led him inside, your touch warm and steady while his hands wandered over you, unable to keep still. “Max? Maybe two hours before the average human dies,” you murmured with a teasing smile.

He let out a breathless laugh, his hand still brushing against your waist, intoxicated not just by the toxin but by you. “How many people have you done this to?” he asked, voice low as he buried his nose in the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply. It was almost possessive, his need to absorb every part of you.

You leaned back slightly, a soft sigh escaping your lips. “Two… high school boyfriends.”

Homelander’s hands slid over your body, but then something caught his eye—a small jar on the kitchen island. His gaze sharpened instantly, curiosity piqued. “What’s that?” he asked, tone suddenly playful but underlined with a dangerous edge as his fingers drifted toward the jar.

He could feel the tension in your body before he even turned to face you fully, sensing the shift in the air. His smile twisted into something more predatory as he turned to you, eyes glinting with amusement and a hint of menace. “Look here,” he started, his voice low and smooth, “since we’re now officially together—”

“Officially?” you murmured, your eyes slightly hazy from his intoxicating presence, a dreamy smile playing on your lips.

He scrunched his nose in a mock expression of annoyance. “Yeah, officially. And there’s one thing you should know about me—I hate secrets. Can’t fucking stand 'em.”

You flushed, your face heating with embarrassment as you shifted on your feet, clearly reluctant to answer. “It’s… nipple cream,” you mumbled.

Homelander raised an eyebrow, his expression uncharacteristically patient, though the intensity in his eyes never wavered. “I can see that,” he said, his voice slow, almost mocking. He leaned closer, a smirk tugging at his lips. “But why do you need it?”

You hesitated, then looked away shyly before finally answering, “I lactate.”

For the first time in a long time, pure shock crossed Homelander’s face. His smile faded, replaced by an unreadable expression as your words sank in. Lactate? He couldn’t process it at first, the information almost short-circuiting his mind. “What?” he asked, his voice lower now, the question almost a growl.

You swallowed, explaining softly, “Just like how some plants and fruits produce milk… ever since I got my first cycle, I’ve been producing milk too.”

Homelander’s throat went dry, his eyes dropping instinctively to your breasts as his thoughts spun wildly. “Only during your cycle?” he asked, voice barely a whisper.

“No,” you admitted, your voice softer still. “Every single day since I got my cycle.”

A long pause hung in the air between you, the weight of your revelation settling in. Homelander’s heart pounded, and for a moment, the effects of the toxin couldn’t compare to the sheer awe and hunger he felt. His gaze drifted back up to meet yours, and something primal flickered in his eyes.

“Oh,” he murmured, a slow smile creeping back onto his face, but this time, it wasn’t just euphoria driving it. No, this—this was something deeper.

Somehow, impossibly, you had just become even more perfect in his eyes.

Reader's Aesthetic

(only her supe name is Pink Dahlia)

Hope you enjoyed!

#homelander x reader #homelander #the boys #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #antony starr #the boys x reader #homelander fanfiction

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moonlight-records · 5 months ago

Text

mr. & mrs. 'surprise couple' | LS2 (sm au!)

pairing: logan sargeant x reader

summary: logan and his partner decide to hard launch their relationship as casually as possible during a week break

warning: cursing, fluff, suggestive language, some dirty talking ig?? (18+, minors DNI), not proofread soo have fun

FC: @/desreii on instagram

a/n: with logan's new website / app making me delulu, this is for all the logan girlies, guys, and ppl!! (this inclusdes myself), honestly it came to me late one night and i only worked on it half asleep sooooo strap in!! also, i opened a ko-fi for tips! please buy me a coffee if you want!

part one | part two

logansargeant tagged yourusername

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, oscarpisatri and 50,205 others

logansargeant happy one year to my other half 🩵 thank you for making this year unforgettable, here's the many more with you ❤️

view all 48,045 comments

landonorris HELLO???

user20 OMG OMG OMG LOGAN'S DATING SOMEONE???

alex_albon THATS MY FAVORITE COUPLE!! YESSSS

landonorris YOU KNEW???

carlossainz55 this is a very interesting development

user52 HELLO??? OMG THIS IS THE BEST DAY EVER

user48 LOOOOGAN!! DROP THE PARTNER AND OUR LIVES ARE YOUR!!!

oscarpiastri the best couple i know 🧡

logansargeant thank you 🩵 ↳ yourusername gay! oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and logansargeant liked this comment

yourusername the way imma ride you into the next anniversary oooo baby--

landonorris @ yourusername IS THIS THE MYSTERIOUS PARTNER?? OMG????

logansargenat BABE ↳ yourusername it's true!

alex_albon Y/N?!!! OH MY GOOOOD ↳ yourusername OMG HEY BESTIE!!! are you proud that i made an instagram???!! ↳ alex_albon I AM BUT WTF WAS THAT COMMENT???!!! Also, maybe you'll answer my messages here!! ↳ yourusername blocked actually!! :)

user52 OMG OMG OMG!!

user48 HOLY SHIIIIIT THEY CAME IN SWINGING AHAHAH

user20 WOWOWOWOW THEY ARE MAKING IT KNOWN HE'S OFF THE MARKET

user204 they just made an instagram? oh we bout to watch the best era ever!! 😍

oscarpiastri all over this for sushi? ↳ yourusername damn right ↳ oscarpiastri as unhinged as always ↳ yourusername you love it 😘

yourusername

liked by yourbestfriend, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, and 204,503 others

yourusername it's silly season fr 😮‍💨

view all 129,204 comments

user48 OH MY GOD, STUNNING. AN ICON. OTHER WORDLY

yourbestfriend THAT'S MY LIFE PARTNER!! HOTTIE ALERT 🚨🥵

yourusername wifey!!! stoooop 🤭

↳ logansargeant that OUR life partner. ↳ yourbestfriend NO BACK OFF UGH I WAS HERE FIRST!!! ↳ logansargeant i'll buy you coffee for two weeks anytime you want. no questions asked ↳ yourbestfriend @ yourusername if you ever breakup with him istg i'll hurt you ↳ yourusername RUDE???

logansargeant i am the luckiest man ever, truly 😍

↳ yourusername oh please.

user33 ALT PARTNER ALT PARTNER ALT PARTNER

user505 HELLOOOOO

user293 LOGAN IS SUCH A LUCKY, LUCKY MAN

alex_albon lily asked if logan can fight

oscarpiastri my lily also asked that ↳ yourusername good thing i got two hands 😇

logansargeant too bad one hand is more me, guess they'll have to fight each other. alex and oscar y'all are gonna have to fight in place of your girlfriends ↳ yourusername B a b e ↳ alex_albon it's on sight next week ↳ oscarpiastri hotel lobby at 22:00. drinks at 23:00 ↳ alex_albon bet ↳ logansargeant deal

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, landonorris, and 304,503

yourusername guys remember, it's important to eat three meals a day!

view all 230,249 comments

alex_albon Y/N. OH MY GOD????

yourusername what?? it's a good reminder!! ↳ alex_albon YOU FUCKIN HEATHEN OH MY GOOOOD ↳ yourusername still confused on what's the issue!

user205 AYOOOOOOOOO????

user29 HELP ME IM SCREAMING!!! ON MAIN?!

landonorris WOOOOAH!! WHEN DID THIS BECOME A WHORE HOUSE???

oscarpiastri it's always been a whore house with these two ↳ yourusername THIS IS SLANDER!!! HE LIES!!! IM INNOCENT!!!

user49 welllllll who can really name y/n?

user204 TRUE

user50 YUP

logansargeant i think you forgot to eat lunch today...

yourusername on my way right now 😇

alex_albon NO. HEATHEN!!! STAY AWAY!! I NEED HIM FOR THE PODCAST ↳ logansargeant alex hurry up and let's film this please--

oscarpiastri god please nobody wants to hear you two

yourusername your just mad you can't join, it's okay maybe next time 😘 ↳ user205 AYOOOOOO ↳ user46 GOD DAMN ↳ landonorris i will gladly take his spot instead-- ↳ logansargeant nope!

yourusername posted a story

↳ alex_albon BESTIE!!!! LOOK AT YOU!!!!

yourusername THANK YOOOU!!! alex_albon cannot wait to see you at the race!! yourusername me either!!! it'll be a bestie reuion!!

↳ lilymhe HOTTIE HOTTIE HOTTIE!!! 🥵😍

yourusername LILLLLLY STOOOOP 🤭 i hope alex can fight!! 😘 lilymhe he can't so easy win 🥇 yourusername LETS GO!! 💪

↳ oscarpiastri i like the pink, you're gonna keep it longer for a few days??

yourusername hopefully! i like the pink but idk if im feeling it rn oscarpiastri well i think it's nice but i say natural hair for your first paddock appearance yourusername maybe 🤔 thinkin bout it still but thanks you

↳ charlesleclerc the makeup? the hair? the pose? please tell me you're blessing the paddock with your beauty

yourusername oh don't worry, i will! i'm excited to meet you! charlesleclerc you as well!

↳ landonorris GOD DAMN TRYIN TO KILL A MAN WITH THE LOOKS!!

yourusername that's the plan!

↳ logansargeant are you tired from running through my mind all day baby?

yourusername babe that was a horrible logansargeant you loved it, don't lie yourusername i did but still really bad logansargeant it's fine i'll just slip between your thighs when i get home to make it up to you 😉 yourusername LOGAN HUNTER SARGEANT! logansargeant what? do you not want me between your thighs when i get home? i was gonna just drop to my knees and flick that dress up so, no real reason to wear panties btw yourusername i-- logansargeant please? pretty please? babe look at you--what am i suppose to do? not drop to my knees and let you use me how you want?? yourusername you should come home. like right now logansargeant already out the door.

logansargeant

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, landonorris, yourbestfriend and 640,593 others

logansargeant great way to end the week break! next up, miami!

view all 302,503 comments

user20 LOGAN WIN, MANIFESTING!!!

user49 god damn y/n is sooo pretty it's unfair 😩 comment liked by logansargeant

alex_albon can't believe i lost to you in golf still

↳ yourusername you lost to EVERYONE in golf ↳ alex_albon lily doesn't count ↳ yourusername no duh, lily's a professional of course she doesn't count!!

user492 THE LAST PIC??? HELLOOO???

user5 i knooow 🤤

user24 no right to be that fINE!! ↳ yourusername i keep telling him that ↳ user24 OMG HI HELLO SKPINOWJNGFION

yourbestfriend USA!! USA!! USA!!

yourusername USA!! USA!! USA ↳ logansargeant 🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸 RED WHITE AND BLUE

yourusername omg that's my MAAAAN!!! 😍 those swim trunks look heavy let me hold them up for you--

logansargeant babe ↳ yourusername and tight. i could help take them off 👀 ↳ logansargeant please 😩 ↳ alex_albon GOD MY EYES!!!

yourusername

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend, and 492,530 others

yourusername petition to be f1's new goth icon

comments on this post have been limited

logansargeant or just mine. mine works too

yourusername that was a given ↳ logansargeant thank god--still. step on me, please--

alex_albon as long as you promise to walk logan back to the garage, deal

yourusername just got you bestie

oscarpiastri nobody else is gonna take the title

yourusername now they can take it from my cold dead hands

logansargeant do you need a dog? i can bark

yourusername BABE WHY DID YOU COMMENT TWICE? LMAO??? ↳ logansargeant had to make sure i had your attention ↳ yourusername velcro boyfriend fr. come lets cuddle ↳ logansargeant YES

#starlight library presents;#f1 imagine #f1 smau #startlight library navigation #logan sargent x reader #logan sargent imagine #logan sargeant sm au #ls2 x reader #ls2 imagine #ls2 sm au #logan sargeant social media au #ls2 social media au #f1 sm au #f1 social media au

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inf3ct3dd · 1 year ago

Text

ellie headcanons pt 4.!

warnings: literally nothing

content: loser!ellie x reader

authors note: brewing a full length fic in my mind rn… this might be the last hc post 😓!!!

pt.3. taglist!

- loves matching with you. keychains, shoes, outfits, literally anything. if you have dyed hair, she’d dye a piece of hers to match you.

- makes up elaborate plots to kiss you bc she’s too cool and nonchalant to ask for a kiss 😕😕

“ugh, my lips are just sooooo dry…”

“didnt you literally just put chapstick on 5 minutes ago?”

“yknow chapstick these days…so…low quality.”

“is this your weird way of asking me to kiss you?”

“noooo what!!! thats craaaaazy i have nooo idea what you’re talking about!!!”

smooch

“you’re so stupid.”

“i feel sooooo moisturized right now”

- always fidgeting with something. probably has a rubix cube keychain 😕🔥🔥

- speaking of, she has an excessive amount of keychains. like so many.

- covers her eyes and peaks through her fingers every time you change infront of her

- definitely audibly said “woah” when she saw ur boobs for the first time

- has so many dumb socks. dinosaurs, minecraft, pickles, literally anything she likes she has a pair of socks for

- scarily good at roblox obbies. you literally can’t play with her because she’ll be done in like 5 minutes 😞

- loves those papas cooking games. her faves are the taco mia one and the sushi-ria

- arizona green tea 🗣️🗣️

- will put on awful accents for hours on end just for fun 😞 esp the italian accent. it’s ridiculous 💔💔 or that frat dude accent

“suhhh dude”

- definitely built her own pc. put a picture of you in it too ☹️☹️

- calls you “dude” or “bro” on accident sometimes

- absolutely constantly argues w ppl on the internet. if she gets bored she just tells them to kts and blocks them 😕

- MAKES THE BEST PASTA EVER!!! it’s literally her favorite food and she’s constantly cooking it. even makes her own sauce 🔥🔥

- tries to do tricks while she’s smoking and just ends up a coughing mess

- her default pose in every picture is just her doing a thumbs up and looking at the camera like this 😐 but whenever she takes a picture with you she is absolutely CHEESING

- randomly takes 0.5 pictures of you constantly. has a whole album in her phone of all the pictures

- barely ever uses instagram, and all her posts are just pictures of you.

- “i could take a bear in a fight.”

- loves balancing things on your head when you fall asleep around her. one time you woke up to like 20 cheerios falling on your lap

- whenever she’s home alone she puts on insanely random outfits and then forgets she’s wearing them. one time you came home to her sleeping on the couch in a full suit

- lets you stand on the cart in the grocery store so she can stand behind you and push it around

- has had the same backpack since the 5th grade. she’s had to sow it back together 20 times and she refuses to throw it away because its “special”

- stalks all your reposts on tiktok when she’s bored

“was this about me???”

- absolutely disgusted by like…any type of canned food. she will not go near it. ESPECIALLY SARDINES

- makes a million typos every time she texts you. her messages are like ancient scrolls you have to decipher to read

“sre tou comungw over todqy ??”

- every time she wears a hat she wears it backwards

- hates sharing her food, but will constantly eat yours

“just a little bite!!!” and she eats like half of it 😒

- has the julien baker rainbow guitar strap

- literally loves apples. so much. apple juice, apple pie, apple cider, literally ANYTHING that has apples in it/ is apple flavored she will DEVOUR IT

- whenever she cooks for herself, she just eats it straight out of the pot/pan.

“whats the point?? ‘s just more dishes to wash 😒”

taglist: if ur name is crossed, i cant tag u :((

@princessguardian444 @mina-281 @leatheredhearts @r3wbeef @dinaissoprettyoml @forelliesposts @lov3lylotus @melissabarrerass @greencacty @as2rid @kingofmylastkiss @dollietes @ellieslilsIvvt @pl9ys @bbygrlshelbs @gayh0rr0r @sawaagyapong @paran0id0blivi0n @bubs-world @mag-mfm @bearieio @slutshies @horror-whoree @calystas-morning-tea @ilovaffles @fr3sh-tragedies @iloveeyousblog @maris-koffin @emonopolyman @elliesgflol @girlwonderchloe @brunettedolls-blog @beestar120 @ddreabea @ibloom4u @elliesmellsbad @thecowardwrites @owmoiralover @yuyans-stuff @minixmel @ellesslutt @swtsuna @saggykneecaps @4rt3m1ss @clouded-whispers @baldph0bic @elleatethat @certifedcrybunny @staxz8 @astridnyx31 @0rb1t-s4turn @amandla111 @kalia31 @spinnyshark @cewcumbers @urnewghostfriend @dinasmoon @teeveegirl @iwantsoda @lunascerebro @matildalee @rach-0000 @er-or101 @our-horse @armins1ut @syrenada @seventeenelliesgf @jellysangelstar @f3r4lfr0gg3r @ilovelyby @people0know @sapphicsstars @hi2647 @mousymaven @echostinn @bratydoll

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams headcanons #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou2 #the last of us 2 #lesbian #wlw

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aquaticmercy · 13 days ago

Text

Blood Bar

Part 4 of Dark Necessities

Series Summary : You drink Bucky’s blood out of necessity and accidentally form a primal bond that has the ability to unlock an ancient ritual magic.

Chapter Summary : Blade takes you and Bucky to a Vampire Bar

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x half-vampire!reader (she/her)

Warnings/tags : Blood. Death. Cursing. Violence. Pleasure from a vampire bite (?). The reader is a dhampir/half-vampire/daywalker like Blade, and Blade is a mentor figure in this. Established relationship.

Word Count : 3.3k

Note : This series has so much potential world building and I am sooooo excited to share it with you guys! Let me know if you wanna be on the taglist. The name Dead Club City is taken from the Nothing but Thieves album. Enjoy!

Before you entered Dead Club City, Eric had grabbed your shoulder in hushed tones, his voice dripping with warning. “Keep the bond a secret. If anyone suspects—” He stopped, glancing at Bucky before locking eyes with you. “Just… keep it hidden.”

As you walked into Dead Club City, you felt the strange, cold familiarity of the place settle—a memory surfacing from a night long past. It had been decades ago, and you’d been a reckless teenage daywalker, newly turned and testing boundaries you didn’t yet understand. You’d come crashing into this very bar, pushing limits in ways only the young and foolish dared. The memory flickered through your mind: your younger self brashly demanding what no one here allowed themselves anymore.

The bar sprawled in shades of scarlet and purple, lit by dim sconces and vintage lamps. The velvet-lined walls that absorbed the soft music humming in the background. The air was tinged with the metallic scent of old blood and the faintest hint of incense. There was a haunting glow over the place, and high on the back wall, a neon sign pulsed in crimson letters: ALL THE HEAVEN, ALL THE TIME — perhaps a sardonic promise, perhaps a cruel joke.

Everyone here was teetering on the edge between indulgence and restraint.

Vampires filled the room, but they were unlike the ones you usually hunted— these vampires had an almost serene existence, a kind of peace that came from surviving many lifetimes, finding a truce with the living world.

These vampires have sworn off human blood, choosing to feed on animal blood instead.

Some lounged in booths, others spoke in hushed voices over candlelit tables. When you and Bucky walked in, though, the conversation softened, a few heads turning as eyes tracked you both with subtle curiosity. Whispers drifted around you, brushing against your heightened senses like moths against a flame.

As you approached the bar, the bartender, a woman with sharp, dark eyes and a cascade of silvery hair tied in a braid, looked you over with an expression you couldn’t quite recognise. There was something ageless in her stare, a weariness, but the years had been tamed it to appear kind.

When her gaze settled on Eric, her expression shifted to recognition. A smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth.

“Eric,” she said, her voice smooth and smoky. “I didn’t expect to see you here again. Thought you’d switched to the synthetic stuff decades ago.”

Eric inclined his head slightly. “Liona,” he replied, a hint of warmth in his voice. “Good to see you still run this place. It hasn’t changed much.”

“A blood bar this old doesn’t need to change,” she replied, chuckling softly.

“And you,” her eyes flickered to you, “Some nerve, coming back here,” she said, an amused edge to her voice. “The last time you walked in, you were practically a bloodthirsty child, causing trouble and trying to get your hands on human blood where there wasn’t any. Made quite a scene.”

Back then, you could feel their judgement in the air, the way they called you insane for seeking human blood in a place of sobriety.

Human blood was strictly forbidden here, the way alcohol might be in a sober house—a choice made by each vampire, a discipline kept in this sanctuary.

“Guess you’ve changed since then,” Liona added, her gaze assessing, as if trying to gauge just how much you’d really grown since that reckless time. “You were violent. Wanted to prove you didn’t need limits.” She chuckled, shaking her head.

Heat crept into your cheeks, an unspoken apology in your eyes. Her eyes finally settled on Bucky, “New friend?”

Eric nodded.

Liona poured a drink, a dark, crimson liquid that looked like blood but smelled faintly of… cranberry juice. She set it down in front of him. “For you—a mocktail,” she said with a hint of a smile. “Some vampires bring their human partners here. Figured you might be one of them.”

Bucky gave a brief nod. His hand brushed yours as he reached for the drink, and Liona’s eyes tracked the movement, her brow creasing ever so slightly. When she turned to you, she placed a drink in front of you—an ornate glass filled with rich, dark blood— a mix of cow and camel. The bartender leaned on the bar, her gaze lingering with a faint smirk as she watched you bring the glass to your lips.

You took a sip, but the taste that once filled you with strength now felt wrong. Flat. Your stomach tightened, your senses rejecting it almost instinctively. You only wanted Bucky’s blood now; anything else was empty, hollow.

The bartender chuckled quietly, catching the way you recoiled, her eyes glinting with understanding. “So you are still drinking human blood, then.”

You froze, wondering how much Liona had truly seen to have possibly come to a correct conclusion from just looking at how you reacted.

Still, she did not know the severity of the human blood you drank.

Eric leaned in, his voice low. “Liona’s older than most in this room,” he murmured to you. “She was around for the last recorded Blood Bond in the 1600s.”

Liona straightened, her gaze sharpening. “Blood Bond, huh?” she asked, her voice suddenly a pitch higher. “Why does that interest you?”

Just then, Eric turned to Bucky, reaching across the bar. He held Bucky’s gaze as he took a small toothpick from a dish. With a quick flick of his wrist, he pricked Bucky’s human arm. The bead of blood welled, dark against his human skin—and instantly, you felt a sharp, sudden pain in your own arm.

A gasp escaped you, and you clutched your arm instinctively, feeling the ache like it was your own. Liona’s eyes went wide as she processed what your reaction meant, her vision darting between you and Bucky. Her lips parted, the hing of sadness in her expression. “A true Blood Bond,” she murmured, more to herself than to anyone. “It’s been centuries since I’ve seen this…”

The room seemed to quiet around her memories, her voice carrying an almost ancient longing, as if she were recalling something from a different lifetime.

Liona let out a long, resigned sigh. When she looked back at you, her features softened with… pity?

“Come with me,” she said, her tone gentler, as if she understood all too well the path you’d found yourself on. She gestured toward a door tucked into the shadows behind the bar. As you followed her, the room seemed to press in around you, quiet with expectation.

And with one last look at the glowing neon sign—ALL THE HEAVEN, ALL THE TIME—you stepped through the back door, the familiar hum of whispers fading as you crossed into the unknown.

—

Liona led you and Bucky down a narrow, dim hallway that seemed to fold in on itself, the shadows lengthening and wrapping around you. Each step you took felt muffled, as though sound itself had been dampened in these hidden corridors. Bucky walked beside you, close enough that you could feel the tension humming beneath his skin, the way his hand would occasionally brush against yours, grounding you both in a place that felt almost haunted.

You entered her room. It was a small, sparse space, walls bare except for the few paintings and photographs hanging like relics. The air felt dense with the weight of things left unsaid, as though every inch of the place was steeped in memories that were too painful to release. Bucky shifted beside you, his brow furrowed as his eyes scanned the room, his shoulders stiffening with a tension that mirrored your own. He reached out, almost unconsciously, his fingers grazing your hand before he seemed to catch himself, pulling back slightly, but not before the touch anchored you both.

Liona’s voice was almost a whisper as she gestured to the oldest painting on the wall. A past version of herself stood in front of a wooden cottage, a small plaque beneath reading, 17th Century. You felt Bucky’s hand slide into yours, his grip tightening as he took in the figures in the painting: Liona, a woman who looked identical to the bartender, save for the black streak in her hair, and a third woman— human— leaning into Liona’s doppelganger’s arm.

“That’s my twin, Joanna,” Liona murmured, as if sensing your curiosity. “And the one beside her… that was Celine. Joanna’s love.” Her words were fragile, as if saying the name might tear something already broken inside of her.

You felt Bucky’s grip tighten. His posture tensed, his stare unwavering on the painting.

“They were more than lovers,” Liona said, her fingers trembling as they hovered over the image of her twin, as if she could reach through the centuries through the painting.

“Celine was everything to Joanna… and she meant a lot to me, too. Celine kept us safe, shielded us when we were weak. Brought us animal blood from the butchers when we couldn’t hunt ourselves.” Her voice cracked. Liona looked down, her hand dropping to her side. “What Joanna and I had was a bond of birth. But with Celine… it was something different, something ancient.” She looked over at you and Bucky, her eyes heavy with warning. “A blood bond, much like yours..”

You felt a cold shiver sink into your bones, bracing yourself for whatever came out of Liona’s mouth next. The hand Bucky had on yours grew tenser, his fingers pressing into your skin as though he needed the reminder of your presence. As if he needed so desperately to feel you. He swallowed, already imagining the worst.

Liona’s voice grew hollow as she continued, each word carefully measured, as if dredging up memories from a wound still raw, even though it had been over 300 years.

“The night it happened, when we shared Celine’s blood… It was desperation, not intent. We were starving, and Celine offered herself to keep us alive.” She closed her eyes, pain etched into every line of her ancient face. “I drank, and all I felt was gratitude. But when Joanna drank…” She drew a shaky breath. “Something awoke, something none of us could understand. The bond was formed.”

You thought back to that night when you first drank from Bucky, the night that bound you to him in ways you hadn’t fully understood. The memory was vivid—the rush of his blood filling you, flooding your senses with a euphoria that drowned out everything but the feel of him. It had been bliss for the both of you, pure and consuming. It was a pleasure so intense it left you dizzy for days, caught between the high it gave you.

For a moment, you wondered if that was what Joanna and Celine had felt, too—a bond so powerful it eclipsed everything else, a love that filled the world until nothing else mattered.

Bucky’s star was fixed on Liona with an intensity that bordered on dread. He rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand, almost unconsciously.

“Joanna and Celine felt everything together,” Liona continued, her voice slipping into a hollow, distant tone. “Every joy, every pain, every touch. It was beautiful… until it wasn’t.”

This time Bucky’s grip turned into iron.

“One day… we woke to Celine’s pain. She’d been taken by the town, accused of witchcraft, of something unnatural… She wasn’t even a witch.” Her hands shook, her shoulders tense as though bracing against the memory. “We wanted to save her but the sun was out. We were not as lucky as you, Daywalkers,” Liona glanced at you and Eric, a hint of jealousy in her voice, perhaps a craving to feel heat in her skin once again.

She continued, “Joanna felt it all. She felt the flames eating through Celine's skin, heard her screams as if they were her own.” Her voice broke, and her fists clenched. “Celine’s agony… it tore her apart.”

The horror of it sank into you like a stone, your stomach twisting at the thought of such a pain shared across their bond. Bucky’s hand left yours for a brief moment, and you felt exposed, vulnerable. Then you felt his arm slip around your waist, pulling you close, his body tense as though shielding you from something you could not see, as if he could hold back the terror in Liona’s words from reaching your heart.

“When Celine’s heart stopped, Joanna… felt every second of it.” Liona’s words were low, guttural, raw. “It was the grief, the rage that consumed her— It hollowed her out until she was nothing but vengeance. She tore through the village that night, killing anything in her path. She was lost to the bond, to a hunger that had turned her… monstrous.”

Besides you, Bucky’s breath hitched, and you felt his heart pounding. You felt panic through the bond, knowing in his head lay the same question that echoed in yours—could this happen to us?

Liona’s hand drifted to her side, lifted her shirt ever so slightly, tracing a faint scar on her hip with a haunted gaze. “I was the one who had to stop her,” she said, her voice a mixture of regret and resignation. “My sister was ready to kill me. She could not tell friend from foe. I had no choice… I drove a stake into her heart.” Her voice softened, barely audible. “I ended her suffering.”

A suffocating silence settled over the room. You could barely breathe, Bucky’s fingers digging into your arm, his grip painfully tight as he processed the memory. You could feel the worry clouding his mind, and in that moment, your bond felt as fragile as glass.

Finally, Liona looked at you both, her gaze distant, filled with a sorrow that spanned centuries. “This bond,” she whispered, “it is beautiful, but it is dangerous. It can consume you, burn through every part of you until there’s nothing left.” She held your gaze, a glimmer of sadness hidden in the depths of her eyes. “Be careful with what you’ve awakened.”

Her words lingered, settling into the silence like ashes. He reached for your hand again, intertwining his fingers with yours, the pressure grounding both of you. Neither of you spoke, but in that shared silence, there was a mutual understanding, an unspoken promise.

Liona’s gaze softened as she looked at your joined hands, something wistful in her eyes. She stepped over to an old cabinet by the bed and pulled out a worn leather-bound journal, its edges frayed, the cover etched with symbols faded by age and touch. She held it for a long moment, brushing her fingers over the faded leather with the tenderness of someone touching a memory.

“This was Joanna’s,” she said finally, her voice just above a whisper. “It’s all that remains of her. I’ve read it only once; I couldn’t bear it again. But maybe… maybe you would understand, better than I can explain.” She extended the journal toward you, a cautious invitation to the memories contained within— the only thing she had left of the sister she shared a womb with.

You glanced at Bucky, He didn’t need to say anything; the bond was already tethering you in ways words couldn’t.

You took the journal, feeling its weight in your hands, the smell of old leather and ink mixing with the soft, lingering scent of blood that clung to everything in this room. Liona watched you with a cautious sorrow, as if passing on a piece of her sister’s broken spirit.

You realised, Liona had loved Celine, too, deeply but differently—a platonic love free of the bond’s consuming rage. And in her eyes, you saw the unhealed wound of it, the pain of watching someone she loved unravel, bound to a fate Liona could neither share nor break.

“Thank you,” you managed to say, your voice shaking slightly.

The words felt hollow for all that Liona had endured, but there was nothing else you could possibly offer her.

Bucky squeezed your hand, and you could feel his unspoken promise there, one that felt almost desperate: I won’t lose myself to this. I won’t lose you to this.

You weren’t sure if either of you truly believed it. You weren't sure if either of you had the choice.

You looked over at Eric, a hollow ache settling in your chest. Guilt stirred within you— how you kept this from him, how it took you so long to open up to a man you thought of as your brother. You hadn’t meant to bring Eric into this, not into something that could spiral so dangerously out of control.

And yet, here you all were, bound by decisions none of you could take back.

Eric seemed to understand the look in your eyes, letting go of usually guarded stance. Without a word, he stepped forward and pulled you into a rare, rough embrace.

You let Bucky go, only for a moment, as Eric’s arms wrapped around you in a gesture that spoke louder than anything he could say, reminding you that neither you nor Bucky were alone in this.

When Eric finally pulled back, you wondered if what he felt now was how Liona felt then— a sister, taken by this ancient bond. And he was helpless to stop any of it.

He wondered, if one day, Eric would have to run a stake through your heart, just as Liona did to Joanna, because he was the only one who could possibly stand a chance against your all-consuming rage.

Liona cleared her throat, her eyes tracing over you and Bucky with a mix of caution and pity. “Your blood is… rare, to put it lightly,” she said, her voice sombre. “People will hunt you for it. You’re already a daywalker—that alone makes your blood potent enough for sacrificial magic. But now…” She paused, her gaze sharp and sorrowful. “A blood-bonded daywalker? Your blood will be worth its weight in gold. They’ll come for you both.”

You nodded slowly, letting the gravity of her warning seep into your bones. This bond felt like it had already set forces in motion that you couldn’t control.

With a final nod to Liona, you, Bucky, and Eric left her quarters, stepping back into the throbbing, shadowed depths of Dead Club City.

As you made your way toward the exit, something caught your eye—a man standing near the edge of the bar, watching the journal Bucky now carried with unsettling focus. He wore a long, regal coat in deep purple, lined with gold accents, and a lavish feather boa draped around his shoulders. His presence was impossible to ignore.

He didn’t approach, didn’t move at all, just followed your movement with a steady, unnerving calm that felt like he was measuring you, understanding things about you that even you didn’t yet know.

You exchanged a glance with Bucky, feeling the tension shared between you.

As you, Bucky, and Eric pushed through the doors of Dead Club City and into the night, you felt the weight of the stranger’s gaze still on you, like a shadow you couldn’t shake.

—

Back in your room, Bucky settled beside you, the soft rise and fall of your breathing calming him down. A soft strand of hair had fallen over your face, and he couldn’t resist brushing it aside, his fingers lingering just above your skin, as though even the slightest touch might wake you.

But it wouldn't– he knew it wouldn’t. He could feel that you were too tired to be aware of anything else, he could feel your heartbeat beating steady as if it was next to his own heart.

He carefully reached for the worn leather journal on the nightstand, his fingers grazing over the cover as if trying to absorb a piece of the memories locked inside. With a cautious exhale, he opened it, each page creaking gently as he flipped to the section where Joanna’s handwriting —a mixture of delicate loops and hurried scrawls— began.

Celine’s heart is steady tonight, a rhythm I know even in my dreams. I can feel her joy, her sorrow, all her memories as if they are mine. How strange and beautiful it is, to feel so complete. And yet, part of me wonders how much love one heart can bear before it burns.

-to be cotinued...

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