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themeraldee · 3 months ago

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The Lucky Winner - Part 2

[Masterlist] [Part 1]

18+ Only | 7.3k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Early Season 1. Voice kink (mild). Roleplay. Established Relationship. Masturbation. Dirty Talk. Unprotected sex.

Summary: After much deliberation you finally decide to meet your hero at a meet & greet.

Author’s Note: Sorry if the ending of this feels a little confusing. I did have an idea for a retrospective Part 3 of this that would cover the events in between Part 1 & 2, clearing up the confusion a little bit, let me know if you'd be interested!

The metal detector beeps, finally letting you through after the hassle of emptying your entire bag and getting a full body scan. You quickly collect your scanned belongings and you scuttle along, almost sprinting across the now-empty hallway. You’re breathing heavily, holding onto the bag over your shoulder as you reach the right door. Panicked and out of breath you show your pass to the man working the door and he just about lets you in grumbling something about it being way past the time slot and how you’re the last one in. You ignore all of it, instead you focus on your breathing and move along. You inhale sharply through your nose, trying to mask just how winded that rush got you.

You take your place as the last one in the line. Turning around just in time you see the door guy close off the room, not letting anybody else in. Phew. You just about made it. You smooth out your summer dress, adjusting the bag you had over your shoulder as you look around the hall. God, you’ll be waiting forever!

You knew it would be busy but having usually avoided convention centres it still hits you hard with how overwhelmingly packed the hall is. The ventilation and air conditioning could be state-of-the-art and it would still feel stuffy. Looking around you feel like one of the few people who didn’t bother dressing up like their favourite heroes. You see about thirty Queen Maeves at a quick glance, another twenty Black Noirs, a few of the Seven’s new member Starlight but the most prevalent one is easily a sea of Homelander knock-offs. The sea of cheap red, blue and white assaults your vision, making it actually pretty overwhelming to look around.

For once Homelander is actually drowned out in a sea of look-alikes where normally he stands out like a sore thumb in all his primary-coloured glory. Homelander. Just the thought of seeing him here makes you pick at your nails and bite your lips with anxiety. Sure, you’ve met him before. You’ve talked. You even had sex, really good sex, goddammit. You have history. But still, you’ve never done this. Not the in-public meet & greets that you decided to put yourself through today. But still, you’re doing this for him.

The longer you’re standing at the end of the line the longer being surrounded by fans dressed in Spirit Halloween versions of the Seven’s costumes is becoming less comical and more uncanny valley. You only wonder what it feels like to them.

You slowly move through the line. Sighing impatiently, your nerves are slowly being replaced by irritation as you watch the interactions play out in front of you. You’re now close enough to see and overhear. Thankfully with each step you take forward the people in front of you get what they came here for and they leave, making the hall a little more breathable.

You’re now watching Homelander as he tends to each fan, all puffed up and high energy to replicate the vision they all have of him but you see how much he wishes to be anywhere but here. Most of the Seven do. Vought plucks them from what most expected to be their duties, like saving the world, and instead they drop them in front of cameras and paying fans. You watch as Homelander signs each piece of merchandise his fans bring him, one after another with a smile on his face.

Having seen part of his real self, or the extension of himself he doesn’t show the media you see the smile for what it is. Placating, empty, downright forced. Were you none the wiser you wouldn’t have thought to look past the showmanship but now you knew better. It was easy to notice his tells, his jaw ticks anytime he’s irritated, his eye twitches anytime he has to hold a smile for too long or anytime he’s forced to compliment someone. You overhear his booming stage-voice going, ‘you look great buddy, wear it better than I do!’ for about the twentieth time. The crowd eats it up, again, and somehow they’re blind to his tortured expression. Sure, he hides it very well but if any of them cared to look underneath the surface it would be glaringly obvious. Instead they look at him like the hero they want him to be. Flawless, perfect, serving their needs. The more you’re privy to this viewpoint the more it grates on you. He’s so much more than that! And you don’t understand how they don’t see it. More than that, you're angry that they willfully don’t want to see it. Why would they ruin the image of a perfect hero they look up to when they don’t care to know the person behind the suit in the first place.

You shake your thoughts away, focusing on keeping up with the queue. Thankfully the hall has now almost emptied, few residual fans loiter around taking pictures of themselves in their costumes with the Seven members right behind them. As it’s almost your turn, and with that the end of the event, you clumsily pull out a postcard out of your bag clutching it in your hands getting it ready to be signed.

With each step you hear him clearer and clearer. Your heartbeat picks up and by the time the Homelander female cosplayer in front of you gets her very own, ‘you might as well take my spot, you pull it off better than me’, your heart is pounding so hard that you think it must grate on Homelander’s nerves. You rub the glossy paper of the postcard in between your fingers trying to distract yourself from the impending doom that’s bound to be caused by whatever comes out of your mouth. Even after all that’s happened between you two, all that history, you cannot stop yourself from feeling flustered in a situation like this.

You’re so stuck in your head that you don’t realise that the lady in front of you already left and all who’s left is…well, you.

You’re broken out of your trance by a familiar voice.

“Looky, looky, who's here? I can't believe you actually showed up at one of these.” There he goes, grinning like a Cheshire cat as he quickly looks you up and down. Already his eyes are glittering with excitement. Your heart skips a beat at his smile. It's more genuine. You see the annoyance seep out of him, his posture a little more relaxed.

“Yeah…about that. I thought I couldn't really call myself a fan otherwise right?” You rattle off some lines and your anxious mess of a gut is slowly unravelling to make room for the coil of excitement replacing it. Sure, you’re nervous. How couldn't you be. But the place is nearly empty and there isn't much he could say that would get you as flustered as he did the first time.

“Here for an autograph? The one I gave you before wasn't good enough?” Right. Scratch that. You blush a bright red as the images flood back into your mind. And he's grinning so widely, clearly pleased with how he can so easily make you into a blubbering mess. Even if someone overheard, there’s technically nothing dirty about his words but the shiver they send down your spine along with the vivid imagery is enough to make you feel indecent in a public space.

“No—no! It was, um, great. I just—uh—wanted something a little more permanent.” You quickly look around seeing if anyone caught that interaction as if they could read your mind. Well, you are in a room full of superheroes, who knows what they can or can’t do. Thankfully, it doesn’t appear like anyone is interested in Homelander signing a photo for yet another fan. The rest of the Seven is slowly filtering out of the room, finally relieved of their duty.

“Alrighty-doo, let me sign that for you.” He takes his hand out prompting you to put the postcard in his palm. You do so, giving him a little timid smile. Your hands shake a little as you retreat them back by your sides. Catching the way his eyes linger on the movement you cover your shakiness by clasping your hands together in front of you.

“Is this all you want me to sign? Did you really wait the entire line for that?” He says his eyes squinting incredulously as he waves the postcard with his likeness in front of you. Without waiting for your answers he still places it in front of him reaching for his marker pen.

“What was I meant to bring?” You scrunch your eyebrows with confusion. Sure, you weren’t used to going to these events but you still brought something he could sign, that’s good enough, is it not?

“For starters, something that my signature won’t cover entirely.”

“It’s fine if it covers it.” You brush off his concerns. Really you didn’t care about the signature as much as you cared about seeing him. So placement be damned.

You look as he uncaps the pen, turning the card around. It’s a photo of him in his hero pose standing against a very patriotic background. Originally it came in a pack of seven postcards, one for each member of the Seven. You don’t want to admit that you were so anxious over deciding whether you would even turn up or not that when it came to the day you forgot to bring an item to sign. Hence the pack of generic postcards you bought on the way when you realised that you forgot just about the most important item. This also turned out to be the reason for your tardiness, you spent way too long in the shop just angsting over the small selection of items you could even pick from.

“You know it's a real shame you of all people didn't come dressed up. I'd like to see you as Mrs Homelander.” He says all cheeky and amused at the image in his head, while he’s fiddling with his marker pen, trying to start his signature for the third time but the ink has run out.

“Oh no no no, I couldn't. I don't think it would be a good look on me. I mean nobody can rock the uniform like you do!” The idea of dressing up as him was ridiculous, you couldn’t just take that away from him. He’s more than a circus animal to you.

“You think I rock it?” He gives you a look, clearly fishing for compliments while he lets his voice rumble. He might not be in your ear but you still feel a shiver dance down your spine. You don’t think you’ll ever get over the effect his voice has on you. He just knows how to pull your strings. And what’s a puppet to do if not follow.

“It looks very good on you. The colour brings out your eyes.” You make an awkward gesture, pointing at your dress and then your eyes, as if it wasn’t obvious that those two had the same colour on him. You cringe internally but he always seems endeared by your awkwardness. You think it probably feeds his ego. You’re always such a mess in front of him and he slurps it up.

“Wowie, heavy on the flattery today are we?” He’s fiddling with his marker pen, trying to start his signature for the third time but the ink has run out. “Oh for fucks sakes.” He tries another two times, the leather of his glove creaking with pressure around the pen. You expect him to snap it in half at this point but he just sighs and recaps the used marker, placing it down. He looks around, his jaw ticking as he mumbles, “where the fuck is Ashley…” He rolls his eyes, muttering something about being surrounded by incompetent idiots as he stands up.

“Just, come with me, I think there are some spares in my dressing room.” He waves his hand, still holding the postcard in the other one.

“Are you sure? It’s really no big deal!” You feel guilty at the way his suggestion sends a shiver up your spine. You’re not entitled to it but the fantasy of him fucking you in his dressing room still plays out in your mind.

“Nope, you waited your turn. You know I’m not one to leave my biggest fans empty handed.” He winks at you before he beckons you to follow him. You give a short nod and you scurry behind him like a little duckling, mesmerized by the sway of his cape swishing with each purposeful step. You feel your heart rate rise with every step, just being in his presence is overwhelming and the closer you get to his dressing room the more vivid your fantasy gets.

“Righty-ho,” Homelander says as he opens the door to his dressing room, fiddling around to pick up a spare marker. He presses the postcard against the wall signing it for you with a silver sharpie. You stand in the half open door a little awkwardly. Rather than focusing on him, you’re looking around making sure nobody sees you standing in Homelander’s dressing room. He tears you away from your paranoid thoughts as he hands the card back to you with a sing-songy, “there you go!”

Your eyes widen and you gingerly take the postcard with a “oh, thank you,” and you gently put it back into your bag, not wanting to smear the ink. Part of you was disappointed that he genuinely took you here for innocent reasons.

Like the open book you’ve always been to him he reads your facial expressions for what they are barking a laugh at the dumb-struck look you were sporting. “What? Did you think I brought you here to fuck you?” He leans against the doorframe, his tone a little condescending and mean.

You really do your best to recover but your embarrassed blush and the spike in your heart-rate is such a blatant giveaway of your true thoughts. “N-no! I wouldn’t, of course not.” It doesn’t matter what you say in the moment, it’s not wiping the all-knowing smirk off his face.

“Jesus, you’re so easy, you know that?” His gaze is predatory as he looks you up and down again, this time slowly, reaaally taking you in. Before you know what’s happening he yanks you into the room, closing the door behind you. For all his strength he controls it well as you don’t end up with a dislocated shoulder after a move like that.

He cages you in against the door, leaning close to your ear so he can get his voice nice and low and he whispers, “For that kind of slutty behaviour I definitely need to fuck you.” You can hear the smirk in his voice. You love how easily he reads you, there’s nothing you can hide from and you know that these days, you’re his favourite book. In a way it’s liberating, it removes the thoughts behind actions, it removes the second-guessing. You know that he knows what you want. So you don’t have to make propositions and embarrass yourself further, he’s either gonna take you as he pleases or tell you to get lost. So far it’s always been the former.

His gloved hand grabs the side of your jaw as he leans back and the woodsy, natural scent of leather whiffs past your nose. His other hand is less stationary, he brazenly glides his hand down your dress, generously palming your tits before he slides down further down your waist and back, settling on your ass. “Gotta teach you a lesson that you shouldn't be spreading your legs for men you don't really know that well.” He growls out tilting your head so he’s directly staring into your eyes with his impossibly piercing blues.

“You’re not just a man.”

“Mhm you got that right.” He purrs all pleased at the obvious stroke to his ego. You’re all flustered, breathy and eager for him and he loves it. The pure adoration and love you give him so easily just flows through him, feeding that black hole starved for affection inside him.

He didn’t wait a second longer to kiss you, one gloved hand still on your jaw, the other quickly moving up to the back of your head pressing you into him. With a moan he kisses you, already acting like you’ve been starving him this entire time. His kisses are feverish, already hot hot hot as his lips ply yours open. You feel his shaky breath hot against your lips while the plush pillows of his lips are pressing against yours in a frenzy.

You wrap your hands around his neck for support more than anything. You know how he gets. Your heart rate has skyrocketed by now, beating hard and loud in his ears as he presses his tongue in between your lips, already wanting to be in you one way or another.

You part your lips for him just like you’d part your legs and you let him kiss you, heavy, hot and wet as he holds you with almost shaky hands trying to get as much as he can out of you.

His ravenous kisses don’t relax you, they make your body feel tight, wound up, always expecting and wanting more. At this moment you need him as much as he needs you. You grind your body against him with each more pressing and needy kiss. You know he can feel you through his suit, even though it’s handily hiding his hard-on. He still moans when you rub against him, clearly just as wound up as you are.

He pulls away, his eyes no longer that bright piercing blue but now his pupils are blown, his gaze lustful and heavy. His breathing is rough and stuttered. Even though he can’t get winded or tired his body is so strained that he pants for you like a thirsty dog.

Homelander takes his time to calm down, wanting to take control of the situation, he wants you to look up at him with those unsuspecting sweet wide doe eyes while he defiles you. And you do, you look up at him, panting out of actual lack of breath and you stare in reverence.

There he goes, grinning like a shark again and you’re already waiting for the foul words that he’s undoubtedly going to thoroughly wet your panties with.

“Tell me,” he purrs out, seducing you with his dulcet tones. “How many times did you make yourself cum to my voice, huh?” He’s now leaning into your ear again, knowing this is where the occasional brush of his lips makes your body burn bright and hot. “Or to the memory of my cock inside you?”

You expect him to be filthy and talk with no filter, it’s his specialty behind closed doors, but it still catches you off-guard. It especially does anytime you’re reminded of the time he utterly ruined you for any other man in your home, in your safe space, in your bed.

“I don’t know—many times. I, um, I lost count.” You don’t know exactly what answer he wants from you but you know that he will turn each and every one against you. His hair tickles the side of your face as he nuzzles into you with a small whimper before continuing.

“Yeah? Maybe you should show me, do it for me. A little performance as a reward for all that I've done for you.” You hear the restraint in his voice. You know he wants nothing more than to just fuck you, have you fall apart on him. For him. But you also know Homelander loves to play. And he doesn’t want the game to be over yet. “You can do that for me, can’t you?” He goads you with that. Homelander knows just as much as he swallows up all your love and affection; you thrive on being reminded of how much you adore and worship him. How much you’d do anything for him. Anything.

Homelander pulls back from you, his hands now firmly on your waist as if you were a flight risk.

“What do you mean?” You regain some sense of self after he gives your hot and flushed body a little break.

“I mean you’re gonna sit your pretty ass in that chair, make yourself cum for me, while I watch.” He guides your body towards the further end of the dressing room where he points at a chair in front of a lit vanity table that’s still littered with make-up and brushes from when his team got him ready for today’s event.

Your body is buzzing with excitement but part of you is still a little embarrassed by such a blatantly open display. He wants you to sit in that chair, spread your legs and give him a perfectly lit view of the way you get yourself off? Yeah, that’s not the easiest thing you’ve ever done. But again, for him, you’ll do anything.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He pulls the chair out a bit tilting his head towards it. He looks at you, blatantly undressing you with his eyes. Literally, undressing. You may not physically feel his x-ray vision but the look in his eyes and the way he stops at your tits with a leery smile on his face is very telling. He doesn’t bother to hide how much he ogles, he knows how much it turns you on anyway. “Come on, panties off and hop on.” He clicks his tongue impatiently.

You sneak your hands under your dress and pull the hem of your panties down. You slide them down your legs until they pool at your ankles where you step out of them with your shoes still on.

Homelander chuckles to himself as he picks up the undergarment inspecting the damage. “You’re like a faucet, always fucking dripping wet.” He brings them closer to his face, inspecting the pair of Homelander-themed panties. He inhales the scent of your pussy now that it’s long seeped into the fabric. “I didn’t think these would be salvageable after last time.” He speaks as if he was talking about the weather and not pure debauchery while he indulges in the scent of your cunt.

“I got more pairs.” You said with a shrug as you got into the chair. You had to jump up a little as it was set on the highest setting for Homelander’s viewing pleasure.

You watch as he tosses the panties on the vanity table in front of you. “You’re gonna have to spread those legs some more.” He tuts with his tongue. You spread your legs as wide as you can in the chair and he shakes his head. “No, nope that won’t do either. Legs up on the arm rests.” He commands and as much as you want to comply, even you have your limits.

“I’m not that flexible!” You yelp out in amusement. “Wait!” You exclaim again except this time he easily manoeuvres you around in that chair with his stupid strength and you feel like a pretzel as you’re being pushed into the right position.

He ends up hooking just one of your legs over the armrest letting you rest it against the vanity table and giving you a comfortable enough position but more importantly, giving him a great view. “See, there you go. Flexible enough.” He pulls off his gloves one by one, throwing them on the table, out of view. “Come on, show off for me,” He coos in your ear, his bare hands, hot and smooth, sliding up your legs picking up the hem of your dress on the way as he pulls it up.

You gasp at the view in front of yourself. In the lit mirror in front of you you see yourself spread wide, your pussy easily visible and glistening in the bright light. This might as well be a porn shoot with how well lit and visible all your parts are. As you instinctively start closing your legs Homelander presses your thighs down, barely putting any power into it yet you feel the unyielding strength thrumming through his fingertips.

“Don’t be shy, you know I’ve seen it all.” He tucks the skirt of your dress above your waist and behind your back. Your hand slowly slinks down to rest on the bunched up fabric of your dress.

He straightens up properly standing behind you, his hands land on your shoulders, close to your neck, squeezing softly. He watches you in the mirror. He extends his pointer finger pushing your jaw up so you look up and meet his gaze. “Keep going, spread that pretty pussy for me.” He growls in your ear as his eyes are locked on the way your fingers slide down your slit, your pointer and middle finger spreading your pussy open for him to see. “Just as I said, like a fucking faucet.” He chuckles at the sight of you drenched and dripping.

You blush at the way he’s staring so intently at your reflection. Your fingers tentatively run up and down, gathering the wetness on your fingers, bringing it up to your clit where you rub small, shy circles around it. You’re taut as a bow and struggling to relax.

“Stop thinking and start feeling.” Homelander purrs in your ear. “I know you can do this for me, can’t you?” His voice sends a hot flush down your body, and you feel your clit throb under your fingers.

“Yeah… I can.” You breathe you, closing your eyes for a second to take a deep breath. The tension slowly leaves your body as Homelander presses soft kisses down the side of your face as he leans over to your other side. You let your hand go on auto-pilot trusting it to know what to do. You suck in a sharp breath as he sucks on your jaw, giving it a little nip while you still circle your clit with a soft squelch of your slick.

“There’s my girl.” He watches as you breathe deeply, your eyes finally opening to watch as he descends more kisses down your neck. You shiver at the sensation, pressing in your fingers a little harder, at the right pressure in the right spot. You’re just about to dip lower, push a finger inside your wet, needy hole but Homelander speaks up. “Uh uh, nothing but my cock is going inside that pussy today so keep your fingers on your clit.” Your entire body prickles with heat all over at his words. He’s so brazen and upfront and no matter how many times you hear it it always makes your head spin and pussy throb.

You nod a simple ‘okay’ and only ever slide your fingers down to collect more of your own slick. Homelander is whimpering with you as if just the sight of your pussy was enough to get him off. For him, it’s intoxicating. His senses enhance the way your slick squelches loud to his ears and the scent of your pussy just makes him want to stop this little game and rail you already. Yet, he’s a patient man when he wants to be. And more so, indulging in his own desperate urge isn’t as fun as watching you submit to him first.

“Eyes open.” Homelander interrupts the thoughts and visuals in your head. Your eyes snap open and you meet his sharp gaze in the mirror. You didn’t even realise you had them closed. “What were you thinking about?” He asks, almost testing you. As if saying, you better not be straying too far from the path he wants you on.

“‘M thinking about you fucking me.” You say meekly, your fingers rubbing at a particular rhythm now that you know will get you off. Your clit is already throbbing, aching under your fingers.

“Getting a bit ahead of yourself missy, first you’ll have to cum for me.” He says nonchalantly while he pushes the strap of your dress and bra down your free arm. As much as you’ve gotten more used to functioning around him, his voice still makes you dizzy, especially when he’s a master at saying the most depraved shit.

You pause to help him get out of the other set of straps and when your arm goes up to slip out of the strap he gives your slicked fingers a little suck, tasting you with a pleased grin making you flush hot.

While you go back to rubbing your clit Homelander unclasps your bra from behind your back dropping it on the floor and he pushes your dress down, already groaning at the sight of your tits free for his eyes to feast on. He presses his hands against your tits from either side, groaning at the sensation of the plush pillows underneath his hands.

“That's a good girl, keep rubbing that clit.” He growls out an order, yet somehow he looks more frazzled than you while he's not even the one performing. “Open up,” he whispers, his voice frayed at the edges as he presses two fingers against your lips. Obediently, you open up giving them a suck and laving them with your saliva while you keep eye contact with his reflection. He moans at the raunchy display, his eyes glazing over as he pulls his fingers out. With both his hands back on your tits he pinches your nipples, overwhelming you with the different sensation of one being rubbed wet and the other dry. You whine at the sensation, your pussy throbbing with each hot breath you feel against your neck as he tucks his head against it.

He listens to your heart beat like a drum in his ear, while he gives your nipples all his love and attention. He whispers and moans sweet nothings into your ear whilst watching you rub harder and faster finding the perfect rhythm that has cascading heat climb up your spine. “Thaaat’s it, come on—fuuck—come on, you can cum for me. I know you can.” Homelander watches as your muscles tense, seeing your body just ready to snap. What really does you in is the way he’s whimpering like he’s the one getting off. It’s like he’s sharing all the pleasure you're feeling with you.

You cum with Homelander’s lips whispering against your ear as you hold your breath, your body tense until it finally gives in and you feel the wave of heat and tingling pleasure wash over you from your core to your limbs. “Ohhh god.” You finally release your breath, your chest heaving with the release.

Homelander is less impressed. Clicking his tongue again against the roof of his mouth.

“Mhm that won’t do, you can do better than that. I’ve seen you cum better than that.”

You barely have the strength to counteract his claim. This was easily one of your strongest orgasms and he’s trying to say that it was weak? Oh please. You shake your head. You know he’s just playing his little game of ‘I can do whatever the fuck I want’ so you let him.

“Come on, up you go,” He says as he pulls you up on your feet all wobbly and numb from the way you were sitting on the chair. He pushes the chair out of the way with enough force that it topples over with a bang. He bends you over the vanity table where you’re up close and personal with the mirror, watching Homelander’s reflection as he hurriedly unzips his pants pushing them halfway down his thighs.

You can’t see his cock from this angle but you’re sure it’s rock fucking hard and leaking precum with the way he’s panting like a dog in heat. He’s not even in you and he looks about three strokes away from finishing.

“God, fffuck!” He grits out through his teeth before parting his lips letting a long groan out as the tip of his cock parts your folds, immediately finding your soaked hole and pushing inside with one long slide. He huffs and puffs, his head tilted back as he keeps his eyes shut with restraint. His cock is hot and hard inside you, giving your pussy something to quiver around.

You’re overstimulated, your nerves totally fried and your body has still nowhere recovered from your performance of a lifetime but you still take him in. You push your ass towards him, whimpering yourself as you feel his hands land on your hips, holding you there. “Look at how your pussy just opens up for me. Taking me riiiight in.” Homelander’s voice is strangled and raspy as he hisses air through his teeth.

You whimper at the way his words leave you buzzing and mindless with pleasure. You prop your elbows against the table as he starts fucking you, dragging his cock agonisingly slowly at first as if he was so sensitive he was about to bust.

Thankfully that gives you some time to recover and your pussy is no longer screaming at you that it’s too much. He gives you more and more with each thrust, letting out a breathy soft moan each time he hits home. Tip to hilt on every slide.

His boots kick your legs together giving him a tighter, more pronounced feel. That’s where he really starts to pick up speed. He moves his hands up, gripping where the fabric of your dress is still bunched up as he wholeheartedly fucks into you, minding his strength of course, he gives you what you can take and not a drop more.

You’re so deliciously taken in by him that you barely remember where you are and that you reaaally shouldn’t be screaming and moaning at the top of your lungs. Against all odds, your body is still so wired up and wound up that you feel the climbing sensation prickle at your nerves, your legs quivering with each stroke.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Homelander pulls out of you unceremoniously and you whine.

“I was so close!” You pull a displeased face in the mirror, looking at his reflection.

“I know. And so does everyone on the other side of that door.” He mumbles as he picks up the panties he tossed earlier on the table except this time he balls them up stuffing them in your mouth. You protest around them, your eyes widening in shock and your body flushing with indecent heat when you get a remnant of your taste from the soaked fabric.

“I don’t need people barging in to see who’s screaming bloody fucking murder.”

He turns you around, swiftly picking you up and plopping you on top of the vanity table where you’re nicely lit from behind. “Now behave, the door’s not locked. I’d rather not have anyone see you like this. Capiche?” You nod fervently, at this point just doing anything to get him back in you.

“Good girl.” He coos as he pulls your legs up wrapping his forearms underneath your thighs, his hands gripping the sides for easy control. And just like that he slides back into you. You give muffled little sighs into the fabric of your panties as he fucks you hard against the table, making it rattle on its legs. The littered makeup and brushes were now rolling off and in some cases breaking on impact.

“You’re always so fucking worked up. Just need someone to fuck you don’t you. Poor little fangirl, so obsessed with me she doesn’t even have time to date anyone else.” He gives you a sharp grin, his canines sharp like a predator’s would be. You body flushes with embarrassment at the almost degrading comment and with the way you’re gagged and fucked you feel like Homelander’s personal toy.

He fucks you until your legs tremble in his hold and your eyes flutter shut with each press of his cock deep inside you.

He slows down with the literally mind-melting grinds of his pelvis against yours and instead he looks you straight in the eyes getting your attention. “Did you learn? Will you be good?” You nod. He takes the panties out of your mouth, leaving the now even more damp fabric back on the table.

You keep your promise and you keep mainly quiet, biting your lips shut and only letting the occasional whimper out as he strokes a particularly good spot inside you. Instead you let your body do the screaming for you. You shake and tremble around him, all tense and hot and Homelander doesn’t need to hear you scream to know that you’re close.

With your lips free again he captures them, as if he’s been starved this entire time without them. He kisses you deep and wet while he bucks into you, slowly losing his impeccable rhythm as he’s so strung out for an orgasm it’s bound to happen any second.

“Ah—I’m, uh, close…” You nearly whisper out, all strangled and needy. Homelander nods, clearly just as far gone. He lets one of your legs go, instead letting you wrap it around his waist as he places his fingers on your clit, giving you the extra push to the finish line.

He doesn’t wait for you as he cums in the next, one, two, three, strokes. But he pushes through still fucking into you while his cock pumps you full of his load. You cum immediately after, it’s more the thought than the faint feeling of him finishing inside you that just pushes you over the edge. A burst of buzzing fireworks sparks behind your eyelids as you close your eyes shut through the euphoria sinking into your bones.

You’re panting, catching your breath, moaning your residual finish in small whimpers. “Wow, that was—”

There’s a sharp knock on the door.

“Sir, you’re needed on stage in 10 minutes.” Ashley’s panicked shrill can be heard on the other side of the door and your heart stops for a second before realising it’s her. Ashley knows better than to barge into any rooms ever since Homelander’s shown interest in you.

“Oh well, there goes the afterglow.” You mumble with a tired laugh. Homelander nods quietly as he tucks himself back in, finally spent and satisfied—for the time being at least.

Homelander looks at you with fond hunger, leaning in for a soft kiss. “Yeah. Sorry I have to cut it short.” He grumbles, displeased, as he nuzzles his face in the junction of your neck.

He pulls away, reaching for your bra and passing it to you so you could make yourself presentable again.

“Tell me, did you actually leave the door unlocked?” You ask.

“No! I don’t want anyone else seeing you like this. Well. I want you out there with me, just not when you’re freshly fucked. That’s all for me.” He gives you a wide grin, unable to stop himself from peppering you with kisses, capturing your lips again hungry for them as if you’re constantly denying him air.

“Thank you for today.” He breathes hotly against your lips. “You know how to indulge me, I really didn’t think you’d turn up.” He smiles against you, caving in for another kiss.

“What wouldn’t I do for you?” You say with an amused roll to your eyes, but it’s all light-hearted. He knows you really would do anything for him.

“I haven’t found that out yet.” He rumbles all pleased as he helps you make sense of the mess he made of your dress.

“And you never will,” You beam at him, your heart pounding again but this time it’s just from that overwhelming love you have for him, the butterflies that don’t seem to ever calm down in his presence. Even though you’ve been secretly together for a couple of months ever since the fated phone call, the excitement hasn’t even begun waning yet.

“Hey, you know, you’re a really great actress. Had me sold quite a few times. Maybe I should get Vought to cast you in a movie alongside me, huh?” He grins as he picks up his gloves, pulling them over his hands again.

You have to laugh. Sure, you’ve enjoyed role-playing as the obsessed fan that you were a few months ago but it wasn’t all acting.

“I wasn’t acting! Well, obviously I did with the ‘I don’t know what’s gonna happen’ part but beyond that I was really nervous to be with you like that in a public place. You know how I get. It’s not that I don’t want to be with you publically, it’s just a huge adjustment. So… baby steps.” You finally adjust your dress though you still very much look like you just got railed.

“Come ooon, let me make you mine officially. Fuck this sneaking around. The people who need to know, know. The rest is not important.” He presents you with his sweet honeyed voice, and he’s cheating really, he knows how much it affects you.

In a way, he’s right. The people who matter at Vought know about you seeing as you’re up at his place every other day but there was something terrifying about announcing to the entire world that you were Homelander’s girlfriend. That’s nothing easy to get used to. He’s not just a celebrity. He is the celebrity. You will have to say bye-bye to the comforts of a private life. But maybe that’s all worth it for him.

“Okay. How about you go do your job and I go do mine and when you see me for dinner we can talk about it again. Sounds good?” You said as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for another sweet kiss.

“Sounds good." He repeats before continuing with a fond, "I love you,” which always comes out a little strained. He’s never been able to say it without letting himself drown in the endless pool of emotions that are just swirling around inside him.

“I love you too. Now go before Ashley has a heart attack. You’re already late.” You kiss him sweetly, adjusting his hair, making it look more purposefully-tousled, less ‘sex-hair’. You let him go, smoothing your hand down his suit.

“Oh please, I’m the Homelander. Does the party really even start without me there?” He blows a raspberry into the air with a scoff.

“Sure doesn’t, babe.” You shake your head, amused as you watch him wave you off and shut the door behind himself.

You took the time to make yourself look more presentable but you couldn’t leave the room in the state you both left it in. So you collected the things that fell, you wiped the surfaces clean and you trashed whatever broke on the way. It’s the least you could do.

You looked into the mirror, almost not recognising the woman you’ve become over the past few months. Being someone who feeds off your endless adoration has done wonders for your confidence. You no longer feel crazy and obsessive. You’ve finally found someone who’s never gonna have enough of you. Someone who inhales your love like the oxygen he needs to breathe.

You revere Homelander less as an icon and more as a person, as a partner, these days. You know so much more of who he is now and strangely, while he scares others, you’ve never felt safer in his presence. Something about you two just clicks. It’s no wonder he wants to show you to the rest of the world. He wants to lock you in, have people forever associate with him.

And soon enough, there will be no way out.

[Part 3]

Taglist (you can add yourself to be notified anytime I publish a new Homelander story): @morishitoshi

#I'm incapable of being concise #this part 2 was meant to be just an excuse to write more smut without establishing a backstory really but now it evolved into more #but now I'm already planning part 3 #anyway hope you enjoyyy #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction

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sultrytoji · 2 years ago

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'Vengeance' - Toji Fushiguro.

summary: in which Mafia!Toji Fushiguro kills for you and you find yourself feeling turned on by your murderous lover. wc: 2.9k warnings: Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader, graphic mentions of murder, mentions of blood, size kink, Toji is a bit soft for you as his cherished beloved, you're a bit unhinged here, squirting, creampie

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╰┈┈➤ find me at @kentolesbian now <3

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"I would kill for you."

The words cut the comfortable silence like a knife but you do not flench. A tender smile chases across your full lips, casting a look up at your lover as you clean his bloody knuckles. A routine you fell into lately whenever Toji came home after a long day of being a mafia boss. Whether you were cleaning off his blood or someone else's, Toji found solace in it. He enjoyed it because the love and care you showed for him is something he never got tired of. He could take multiple lives and you would be sitting right here, cleaning and tending to his wounds. You were his only light in his darkened, disgusting, hell life seemed to be. You were his only beacon, and he would kill anyone who threatened to dim it.

And you knew this.

"I know." You reply, applying antiseptic to his knuckles. Tiny hisses could be heard from the gruff man but quickly ceased as the small stings grew annoying more than painful. He lifts his hand to take a heavy drag from an ongoing lit cigarette as you finish up the last dressings to his wounds. You promptly put away the first aid kit under the sink, just barely putting the box away before a pair of strong hands grab your waist. You are pulled into his lap and forced to face your lover. Your delicate fingers trace the scar at the corner of his mouth as he takes another sharp inhale. Smoke clouded his lungs and nicotine numbed his brain with delight as he took in your sleepy expression.

Some of him felt bad for waking you, but he knew you would yell at him for bleeding on the sheets come morning. So when his broad frame entered the doorway, he didn't bother being quiet. He kicked the door closed and jolted you from your sleep, a silly mistake on his part. He remembers quickly grabbing your wrist, saying, it's me princess before you put a bullet in his skull. One of the many defensive responses you had learned after being tangled with Toji Fushiguro.

After assuring you it was him - your sleep finally released hold of your cognitive abilities - your hand retracted from the cold metal under the pillow. You got up from the bed, grabbed one of his hands, and dragged him behind you to the master bathroom. Commencing the routine of cleaning and attending to his wounds.

And now you sat on his lap, his wounds cared for and no more blood threatening to ruin your sheets.

So why exactly weren't you too back in bed? You had a feeling there was more to the reason why Toji dragged you out of bed.

And as usual, your feelings are right.

"You know that fucker who bothered you at the club last weekend?" Toji's gruff voice broke the silence and he watched your expression change to a thoughtful one. Your eyes shift to the side to recall the unpleasant moment. A night out with your girls ended with a man harassing you and your friends. Another man who could not take no for an answer. You were so irate, so angry that a man dared to touch you and your friends. Stifling tears that night, you called Toji and remember just ranting when he picked up.

"God I hate men like him." You had the wickedest tone in your voice that Toji never heard before. You may not remember the bite you had, due to how intoxicated you were, but Toji remembers. He remembers hearing that tone in your voice that echoed murderous rage.

"I hate hearing how upset you are and I can't get to you." Toji had gripped his phone viciously, fingers twitching to grab his keys to race to where you were. However, he was in the middle of a business deal.

"It's fine. I just want you to kill him. Kill men like him." Your words did nothing but echo in his brain for the rest of the evening.

"I hear you, baby."

"Yeah..." You trail off, eyebrows raised as you wait to see where Toji was going with this. He took a final inhale of his cigarette before ashing it in a nearby ashtray. His full attention was on you before he spoke.

"You'll never have to worry about him again." He said and you did not need him to elaborate on what he meant by that. You knew damn well what he meant by it and all sleep left your body. You cast a look over to the trash, the blood-soaked paper towels catching your eye and you look back at Toji.

"Is that why you haven't carried us to bed yet," you wrap your arms around his neck, "to tell me that you have killed for me." The way killed rolled off your tongue, and with the seductive eyebrow raise to match, Toji found himself smirking. Especially when you softly rocked your hips against his lap.

"Wanted to tell you I gutted him like deserved." Toji says, fingers digging into your waist.

"Was this before or after your meeting today?" You question, brushing his hair back from his forehead. He chuckles at your curiosity.

"Does it matter?" He asks, green eyes narrowing.

"No, but just wanted to see if you were that petty enough to do it after you got cut to hell." You laugh and Toji chuckles darkly. His hands leave your waist, sliding up your frame to slowly button the oversized shirt you were wearing. He could no longer ignore your hard nipples that poked through the material.

"Call me petty then, y/n." He frees your breast, groping them immediately and twisting your nipples with his fingers. You sigh at the feeling. You lean forward grabbing his lips with yours, unable to hold back from kissing him. Something about him paying a visit to a man who bothered you last weekend set something off in you. The thought of him stalking this man down how he did you and your friends left you wanting to rub your thighs together.

"Did he scream?" You ask against his lips and he shifts underneath your frame. His cock is stirring and reacting to your sudden change in demeanor. You were getting off on the thought of him killing someone for you and he couldn't ignore the blood beginning to rapidly pulse through his stream. His libido increasing to tenfold.

"Drug it out as long as possible but he was weak. I could have brought you to do it. Taught you somethings." He says against your mouth, testing to see just how far were you willing to go. Did you have limits? He needed to know.

"Bummer," you speak, his pupils dilating as his blood rushes to his cock, "next time." you whisper against his mouth, sultrily and he claims your mouth with his. He had enough and he needed to take you now. In a swift motion, he has you in the air, carrying you to the bed.

Time seemed to blur together and the next thing you knew your ankle was at his shoulder as he shoved his girthy cock inside you. The other leg was hoisted up by his other hand, holding you by the underside of your thigh. Pathetic whimpers and moans fell from your mouth as he continued to snap his hips back and forth.

"Toji!" You call out, sobbing as tears run down your cheeks. He takes a thumb, flicking the tear away before grunting.

"You're so filthy. Pussy getting wet because of me killing someone for you." He grabs ahold of your face with his one hand. You peer at him through hooded eyes, completely lost in the lust and the lewd thrusts coming from Toji. You are coherent enough to understand his words, a playful smile flaunting across your lips.

"Its why you love me." You tease and he chuckles, slowing his erratic thrusts for a moment. He could not deny that and he pats your cheek lovingly. You fall into his touch, whimpering softly as you feel his cock leave but only return to your silky, wet, cunt. Toji groans at the arousal coating his length, your sticky nectar gushing between your thighs and wetting his pelvis. He bites his lip, never tired of how wet your cunt gets because of him.

"Can't deny that, baby." He finally says back, tender moment over and he slams his cock back into you abruptly. You choke on a moan, wailing in pure pleasure as he snapped his hips against you over and over. Toji takes both of his hands, pinning them under your thighs and folding you in half almost. He shoves his cock deep, your walls contracting tightly around his cock before creaming. You mewl, toes curling and all Toji can do is grin.

"Oh-" you choke, "Toji!" One of his hands leaves your thigh to circle his thumb on your swollen clit. The puffy nub ached to be touched and Toji's calloused pad added just the right amount of roughness to send your head spinning. Your eyes roll in the back of your head, mouth agape as he continued his assault.

"No one will ever put a hair out place on that pretty head of yours. Understand me?" Your eyes open, feeling his hand leave your clit to grab your face once again. His stern words and dark gaze left you quivering and not because you were scared. A moan tumbles from your lips before you respond.

"Yes, Toji." You say, thighs quivering in unison with your cunt. He grins, feeling your tight walls attempting — and failing miserably — to push his heavy cock out. He knows you're a second away from coming. He releases your face once again to find his thumb back on your clit. You huff, frowning as your body shook violently.

"Gonna come yeah? Come all over this cock that fucking kills for you." His filthy words and a reminder of the murderous act he committed for you send you into a tailspin. Your mouth opens, a desperate wail ripping through before you squirt all over Toji's cock. You reach up nails raking down his chest and earning multiple hisses from him. Toji grabs you by your shoulder before sliding out of you. You whimper at the loss but gasp as he throws you onto your stomach.

Toji handles you like you're a rag doll and you're reminded of his brute strength and size. You cast a look behind you, seeing his stature tower over you before he grabs your waist. He places you on your knees and lines your ass up against his front. He spreads your thighs before slipping his cock back in. You threaten to double over but Toji reaches out, a hand grasping around your arm to pull you back against him. Your skin touching his was set ablaze and his big hand closes around your throat. He brings his mouth to your lips before speaking.

"I'm not finished with you yet." He grunts, hips slamming against your ass and causing you to cry out. The new angle had you seeing stars, babbling incoherent praises and curses. His cock continued to sink inside your drenched cunt, a delicious burn along your walls because of the stretch.

"Right there — oh! Fuck!" You were becoming a sobbing mess, thighs shaking and threatened to give out at any moment. Toji saw this, your small frame struggling to keep up with his massive size and he couldn't help but smirk. You were a fighter. A stubborn fighter and you were all his.

And everyone needed to know that.

"Your thighs shaking, you need me to help you?" Toji taunts, his hand on your throat tightening. You could still breathe, but the pressure left hot prickles of goosebumps up and down your spine. His other arm comes around your frame, holding you up and steady against him.

"Toji!" Your toes curl and your body goes limp in his arms. His strength allows him to continue to hold your body in place, not allowing you to escape the relentless thrusts from his cock. You knew you weren't going to last much longer. All you could scream was his name at this point. Fucked completely stupid to the point where all you wanted to do was say his name.

"You wanna know the first thing I took from him was," Toji starts, moving his fingers from your throat to creep up your chin, "his fingers." He says before shoving his digits inside your mouth. You latch onto them, sucking and moaning around them. Drool and spit run down your chin when he retracts his fingers. You whimper at the loss but immediately choke when those sloppy wet digits land on your aching clit.

"I'm going to come!" You warned, your thighs quivering and your hand reached down to his arm around your waist. Your nails dug into his skin, breaking it, but Toji did not mind. His cock jumped at the feeling of your scratches as you wailed in his arms.

"Give me my reward for killing for this pussy." Toji coaches you through your orgasm, shoving his cock deeper inside your cunt, tip reaching the deepest parts of you. White clouds your vision as electricity jolts throughout your body. The hairs on your body stand up as you tumble into an overwhelmingly sensual delirium.

"Shit baby." Toji chuckles, feeling you squirt once again as you came hard. Your body shook violently and you went limp in his arms. You cry, tears running down your face from how hard you orgasmed. It only became more paralyzing as Toji still continued to fuck you through your orgasm.

"Toji," you hiccup, "fuck!" You were a mess and the overstimulation left you euphorically dazed. Toji now had you laying on your stomach, his frame perched on your thighs as he had your cheeks spread. He started watching his cock disappear between your silky folds. You were not even fully out of your first orgasm haze and here Toji was about to fuck you into another. Your cunt left his cock creamy and he groans at the sight.

"You're soaking baby." Toji felt himself coming soon, head swimming as your arousal continued to mix. His cock pulsing with the desire to release. That knot in his member threatening to unravel at any moment.

"It's all for you, Ji." You managed to call from the pillow, he admires your resolve, still trying to keep up. He chuckles before slapping your ass cheek, earning a moan and a twitch of your cunt. He hisses, balls swelling and he began to thrust faster.

"Fuck. I'm gonna come inside this pretty little cunt." Toji warns, chest heaving faster and he slaps your rear once more. Your walls twitch around him again, whimpering as you gush around him one more time. The sight sends him over the edge and he lets out a groan.

"Come for me, Mr. Fushiguro." You taunt, earning another slap of the ass and you squeal. Your clit twitches and his cock nudges that perfect spot and you come a second time. You drop your head into the pillow as your body trembles.

"Sassy little fucking mouth." He chuckles, ceasing his thrusts and sliding out of you. You whimper at the loss, tossing your head to the side to look over your shoulder. You watch Toji spread your ass cheeks and you open your legs, already knowing what he wanted to see.

"You like it though." You fire back as you watch the man eye your abused cunt. You're sure it's covered in your sticky nectar and it's only a matter of time before Toji's cum joins the mix too. He doesn't move his gaze before replying.

"I also like when you behave." He says, seeing his cum creep out of your cunt and he frowns. He takes his fingers and starts fucking his semen back inside of you. You whimper because your walls are still sensitive, but you take it. You love this primal and territorial side of him.

"I've been good lately." You frown, a soft moan escaping your mouth as he retracts his fingers, satisfied with stuffing you with his cum. He moves, crawling up the bed and extending his fingers to you. You don't need to be told what to do and you're sucking the mixture of you two off his digits. He grunts.

"Lately." He repeats as you remove his fingers from your mouth. You chuckle giving him a small smile, looking up at him from the pillow.

"It's your turn to take care of me." You turn over to your side, extending your arms to your lover. A disdained look casts over his face, a look many would fear but it only makes you giggle more. You manage your best puppy dog eyes.

"Stop that shit, y/n." Toji's command is ignored and you only continue to give him puppy eyes. He sighs, sucking his teeth as he runs a tired hand over his face. Years you two have been together and yet you still were able to stress him out. You were such a pain in his ass but he loved it.

He didn't have to verbally tell you for you to know that either.