#homelander x gender neutral reader

[writeshite]

The coughing fit that had brought you back to life had been brutal, your voice still hoarse two weeks after; the world was different; it was brighter and louder, and you could smell the coconut buns at the small cafe down the street, hear the retching of the Vought scientists forced to clean the massacre you'd left in your wake.

"I'm sorry." You'd said, tears in your eyes; starvation had hit you first, then ferity; the taste of blood had never crossed your mind before, much less flesh, but the scientists had been more than palatable.

"It doesn't matter," John had countered; happy doesn't fit how he'd been—felicitous, overjoyed, thrilled—any one of those words would perhaps be better.

The blood had long been cleaned away, and the bath water had grown cold, however long ago, but John had yet to release you from his iron grip. He wasn't one to let go easily; not even death could steal you away from the Homelander.

[vampdes]

Please, I'm begging you do more Homelander x top male reader. I loved your other fic with him. Maybe reader is a supe who's stronger than Homelander and left. Homelander was sent to kill reader due to reader having information but instead gets fucked. Thank you and have a nice day.

DES says . . . im not doing anything right now, so why not? hope you enjoy xx (even though this is very late).

SUM. — homelander is sick, erratic, manic. why? he has his fame, his money, his powers – what more could he need? an antidote, obviously, what else?

CON. warning — smoking weed / rolling a blunt (once), dry humping, dry orgasm, overstim, mentions of: growling, passing out (figuratively), meeting heaven (figuratively), & yan-like actions. p in a. bareback. begging. impregnation (breeding ?) kink. collar & leash. subby (leaning on), needy, & whiny homelander.

NOTES. — very rushed. semi-detailed smut. not a very good ending.

you flipped through the televison’s provided channels with an unlit blunt protruding from your lips, itching to light it in order to feel the undeniable zest and haze it always seemed to provide you with. the calming and doughy-like sensation melted your brain, it allowed you to escape from the realization that you were indeed wanted by national police and superheros (all at the same time, mind you) just because you even dared to speak of retiring. therefore, you came up with an idea: just escape! to hawaii or somewhere — you landed in Australia, though, so hawaii was entirely off course but aye, you were gone and free and almost high.

what’s not to love?

you finally found a reliable sitcom that’d allow you to not think too hard or pay attention too much. so you sat back and slouched, drowned into the comfiness of the couch’s plush cushions, and lit your blunt. the wafting smoking engulfed itself deep within your lungs and etched itself into the cushions of your couch. before you could even care about your couch’s wellbeing or could even take a second exhilarating blow, the smell of metal being burnt and resulting smoke that wafted from under your penthouse door to your living made your eye brows furrow together with confusion. before continuing your trail on being high, you dipped the blunt into an ashtray and pushed it into the table, and sat up, watching the door with a sense that something was array in the air.

“fix me, oh fuck — y’gotta, fuck, fuck, fuck—,” john’s words fell into loud, squeaky squabbles into the silk sheets of your bed. his large frame sat atop of your hips, straddling you whilst he made a steady pace of teasing his concealed cock with the friction your ruffled jeans provided him with. you wanted to calm him down, tell him it’s okay, baby, you know i’ll fix you, but he chose that ignorant and arrogant company or what the two of you could have had. and that’s something you’ll never forget, but damn, why pass up on fucking the most famous hero in the world because he’s begging to have you? nobody in their right mind would, that’s for sure.

“you gonna let me treat you right?” you asked, gripping on his hips with words that haven’t been spoken before but explained and demonstrated through the many encounters that occurred in the empty janitor closets in the hallways of his company. and john. . he can’t help but grind himself a little harder and nod just a little faster. he wants you in ways he could never explain. he needs you with the biblical and primal history behind it. he begs to serve you as though he’s nothing but a measly worshipper and you’re a god within the highest of heavens. and you allow him to do so.

“please.” john responds, and you know he means it.

before long, he has a pastel-pink color around his neck with the leash wrapped around your balled fist, feeling like a submissive fucking bitch under your control, and damn, he feels good. his hands are tied behind his back with his nails clawing at the air between you and him in order to feel the pleasure that courses through every atom in his very being. for the first time in a long time, john allows himself to be willingly and properly used by someone he adores.

when you mention the fact that you’ve run out of the very last condom, he says: “get me pregnant.” and good lord above, you can’t help but comply with his demands. he felt fucking heavenly too, he felt so, so fucking good, and the noises that were coming from him? good fucking god, you’d capture those noises in a jar and listen to them every night before you sleep if you could.

in between the lingering touches and chaste kisses and animalistic thrusts and moans and being treated like a fucking free-use prostitute, the tears that streamed down his eyes and the whines that came from him and the need eminiting from him to have the immediate skin-to-skin contact with you even though you were literally shoving your cum into the deepest part of his guts is what captivated you entirely. the way he honestly showed his greed proudly with it circling around town and right back to you made your heart swell. fuck, this was sick (sick enough to make you force yet another cry out his hoarse throat).

“oh fuck, fuck, fuck — gotta make you mine, gotta get pregnant and make sure you stay with me, oh fuck, gotta – gonna cum, fuck, gonnafuckin’cum–,” the process that coincided with long strings of his cum colliding with his pretty pink breasts made the loudest, girliest, guttural squeal mixed with a whine mixed with the neediest moan escape from his throat with him crying out your name. your sylabells. and for fucks sake, he knew exactly how to get you started again to buck your cum-covered tip into his abused prostate once more.

when he cried out your name like you were the Archangel himself, you knew that today would turn into tonight which would turn into yet another post-sex morning with a bitchy, clingy, neck-biting john that always needed a piece of you with him or he swore he might (would and undeniably will) go crazy. and to be honest, if you just savor this maniac for just a little bit longer, maybe the earth would look a bit more brighter to you. maybe the air would be clearer, the sun would shine harder, the birds would harmonize better — the morning is the best time of your day.

[angelyuji]

homelander realizing that you could make a great mom to ryan and kidnaps you, but realizes you were partly why ryan is not like him??? yeeah im thinking thoughts.

tw // physical abuse, mental/emotional abuse, implied noncon, homelander being homelander

honestly the ending got pretty sad idk why i think its cuz i feel so bad for ryan becuz he deserves so much better than shitty homelander and i wish his mom didnt die poor baby angel :( anyway....

"what have bullshit are you teaching him." john's face, twisted with wrath, was only a few inches away from you. you try to inch back, but he grabs your face. gripping your jaw with one hand, he forces you to look back at him. "answer the fucking question, (y/n). what poison- what LIES are you teaching my son?" your face hurts and you feel tears well up in your eyes.

"dad, she's not doing-" ryan tries to interject, to stop his father, but john raises a hand at him.

"don't. don't protect her. talk now, (y/n), before i really get angry." his eyes flash red and you feel your heart stop.

you sniffle, "john, i swear i'm not teaching him anything. i don’t know-” before you could finish, john backhands you, sending you to the floor. your vision goes white from the pain and you can’t help the screaming sobs coming out of you. when you look up, you see ryan in tears. you can’t even muster a smile to make him feel better.

“ryan, go to your room.”

“but-”

“NOW.” you hear ryan’s defeated steps go up the stairs. your scalp stings as john grabs a fistful of your hair to pull you up. “my son is the most powerful creation on the planet alongside me. i will not let you turn him into a pathetic, worthless worm like you. understand, (y/n)?”

his face is close to yours. you can feel his fury and you nod, afraid to speak.

"say it. say you understand."

you choke, "i understand... i'm sorry, john." his grip loosens and you collapse to the floor, shaking wth sobs. you hear him huff quietly to himself.

"so fragile and weak, why would you think ryan should be like you and not me, his father?" you look up at him and he stares down at you. you try to speak, but he holds a hand up. "i don't want to hear it." you look down. the room fills with silence, interrupted occasionally with ryan's footsteps from upstairs. "fucking pathetic." you hear him mumble. "go upstairs and collect yourself. i don't want to hear your sniffles when i fuck you tonight." he rolls his eyes and waves you away.

you stumble up the stairs and finally make it to the bedroom, collapsing into the bathroom. you sit in the bathtub, knees against your chest, sobbing.

"y/n?" a small voice comes from in front of the door. you quickly wipe your tears.

you clear your throat, "come in, sweetheart!" you watch as the door is opened, hesitantly. ryan comes in, slowly, and closes the door behind him. he looks at you, eyes filled with guilt. he sits down next to the bathroom. "you're growing up so fast..." you try to smile and brush your hand through his hair.

ryan puts his head down on the edge of the bathtub, "i'm so sorry, (y/n)..." your heart hurts and you cup his face in your hands.

"none of this is your fault, ryan. you did nothing wrong." you watch tears fall faster down his face. you pull him into a hug. the edge of the bathtub was digging into your skin, but you felt ryan relax and you knew you could be in pain for a little while longer.

[a-small-safe-place]

His Haven

Homelander x Psychiatrist!Reader Pt. 1?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

When Homelander first met you, he just came in because Madelyn cooked up some scheme with Edgar to 'prove' that the members of The Seven were sound of mind and could pass a psychiatric evaluation similar to the one used in the army. Of course, you had been paid a lot of money to do the evaluations and even more money to ensure that these heroes passed no matter what they said. You were a respected psychiatrist in your field; that’s why Madelyn wanted you specifically.

Homelander went to his appointment, planning on leaving until you said something that caught his attention. You said, 'I am here for you. I took this job because you all spend your days helping and saving people, but at the end of the day, who helps and saves you? Obviously, I couldn’t physically save you, but I can be a place for you to talk if you need it. Nothing you say will leave this room.' Boy, did that stroke his ego in all the right ways. He decided to stay. Something about you was comforting, and he wanted to talk, so he started small with the obvious stuff. He led the conversation by making off-handed remarks about being better than everyone and having to be perfect for Vought. It was clear you didn’t understand his pain, but you were listening to him. You were actually listening to him and responding.

You weren’t like Madelyn, who seemed to argue with every other thing he said; you didn’t respond with dismissive and uncaring responses like Queen Maeve, and you could actually keep up with the conversation, unlike The Deep.

Homelander surprised you and himself when he began attending regular scheduled sessions. You usually led the discussion by asking various questions. Some questions he would lie about, not feeling totally safe to dive into certain topics, or he would just dodge the question and change the subject. Homelander knew you noticed this because anytime he did either of those things, your body language would change, and you would write something down in your little notebook. That notebook had made Homelander incredibly nervous until he found out you were not in there calling him a useless pussy. You were just simply writing topics you two had discussed and what topics made him uncomfortable.

You seemed to actually care about Homelander’s feelings, even the bad ones. Stan Edgar put Homelander in his place, and Homelander looked down avoiding Edgar’s pointed gaze like a child being scolded by their father. Homelander needed some reassurance, but he would never admit that willingly. Homelander felt weak and stupid for needing someone, but you didn’t seem to mind even when he was ranting and raving, so he went to you. You had been his haven. The one person he could confide in and actually be himself.

He arrived at your office in the morning while you happened to be filling out some paperwork. He knew you didn’t have any appointments today because this had been previously the day Vought scheduled for the evaluations of the heroes. Homelander spent the whole day pestering you. 'What are we doing now?' He asked, not entirely oblivious to your mild frustration. 'Still just filling out paperwork,' you replied. He rolled his eyes. 'God, your life is so boring. Go to work, talk to the crazies, fill out paperwork and go home, and you do that all alone? I forgot how boring normal people can be.'

You laughed before telling him, 'no one is keeping you here.' Homelander’s jaw tightened. This pissed him off. You’re not supposed to say that. You’re supposed to offer to do something more fun. You seemed to notice that 1,000-yard stare he has as he retreats into his own mind. 'Look, I just mean that I have to finish work. I know it’s probably boring you to death just sitting here; you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,' you told him, which seemed to make him feel a bit better, but he’s not entirely out of his head. 'It’s fine, we can just talk while you work,' he tells you with a feigned smile.

Homelander begins to perk up while you finish your paperwork and finally asks you the million-dollar question, 'What are we doing when we get home?'

'I am going home to cook up some dinner and watch some television,' you told him, trying to hint that you were wanting to be alone. Homelander was undeterred. 'What are we eating? I could use a home-cooked meal. We could watch one of my movies. I’ve been told I’m a great actor.' Homelander needs you to agree and compliment him. He desperately wants you to tell him he does a good job, even if you’re just talking about acting. 'Yeah? Your movies are pretty famous,' you say, accepting your fate that he isn’t leaving you alone tonight.

The night is spent with him at your house. Homelander wastes no time making himself at home and pilfering through your things. He feels comfortable being so ensnared in your scent. He becomes more comfortable as the night carries on. You fix his plate and drink for dinner, and the two of you share a dinner that he perceives as romantic. Your food isn’t as good as the private chefs at Vought, but Homelander loves it because he got to see the love you put into making it just for him.

You two clean up together. It’s really you cleaning, and Homelander helps by talking about which movie of his you should watch tonight. Finally, you try to retire to your room, but he follows. 'I thought we were gonna watch a movie… it doesn’t have to be one of mine,' Homelander tries not to sound too desperate, and he hated to say that last bit.

'I had planned on watching something in my room, but you can come lay with me if you want,' you tell him reluctantly. Homelander is excited but tries to keep that hidden. You two lay down and begin watching one of his movies. By the end, Homelander is 'asleep.' He knows you can’t tell the difference in him and ignores you when you gently shake him trying to wake him. He’s not the biggest fan of sleeping in strange beds, but for you, he can make an exception. Next time, he wants you in his bed though.

[cainsau]

Can you do (Platonic) Homelander X reader. Like in S4E4, you were the only scientist that actually treated homelander as a actual human child and not a experiment, but then were fire for interfering with an experiment. And years later when he grows up and invite everyone back to the lab including the reader

Consequence || The Boys Imagine

(Platonic) Homelander x Scientist!GN!Reader

Summary: You are one of the scientists who worked on Homelander many years ago. One day he brings you back to the lab, for old times' sake, he says.

Warning: Canon typical violence and gore (not explicit)

Author's Note: Im so sorry but i dont fully understand your request! I hope this is close enough to what you're asking for :]

Masterlist

You recall the elevator ride from many years ago. It didn't use to be this long. Or maybe that's because you just witnessed Homelander shooting lasers at the security guards upstairs, all that to let you and him into the old lab. He probably can hear your heart beating abnormally fast.

"Do you think everyone will be there?" He asks.

You take a long breath, "Maybe not. Some of them probably don't work for the company anymore."

There is a moment of silence before he asks again, "Do you miss them?"

You think about it for a minute. His question feels like a test somehow. But, you've always been honest with him, and you're not going to stop now. "Not really, since they fired me."

"Right."

Homelander is a ticking time bomb. Since the beginning, you knew he was going to grow up with so much negativity from all that experimentation, and eventually explode. The least you could do was be kind to him, considering he was a literal child. Even now, you still feel a little bit of sympathy for him. But, it probably doesn't matter since he might have just brought you there to end your life along with the other scientists'. After all, there's no denying that you did work in that lab.

You sigh quietly. You didn't even get to say goodbye to your family when he picked you up at your current workplace.

The elevator dings, and the door opens, revealing the very same lab that you remember working in. The old faces try so hard to look delighted, but you can tell that they're as horrified as you.

"John?" Marty exclaimed in surprise.

"Homelander." The supe corrects him with an unending smile. "Just, Homelander." He then glances at you, putting an arm on your shoulder. "But [Y/N] is here too, y'know? You should greet them too."

You and Marty exchange a look. It's been years since the last time you talked to him. Though he's glad to see you after all these years, it is far outweighed by the horror of Homelander's presence.

Marty gives you a nod, "[Y/N]."

You return the nod, "Good to see you again, Marty."

"Well, well, well," Homelander steps forward with the box of cake while looking around, "I see that this place hasn't changed much."

He starts to talk and talk about his days in the lab. To the others, it might be an enlightening experience as he exposes their faults and... avenge it. Even if they didn't believe in god, they start praying inside their heads. Frank is the first to go, then Marty second. Thankfully, Barbara shows up before a third victim comes. But, oh, how wrong you are.

You stand there, breathing heavily, as Homelander closes the door to the Red Room. There's blood everywhere on his suit and hair, then as he turns around, his face is also covered in blood. But, the most terrifying part? His smile.

You hide your trembling hands behind your back. As much as you dislike how the other scientists treated him, you'd never think they'd end up like this.

"You alright?" You attempt to be nice to him, even if it's the last thing you do.

He laughs and approaches you slowly, "There should be more people like you in this world."

"You're one of a kind." He continues. "Most people are inconsistent. They're very prone to change, depending on where they are in the wheel of life- up or down- but, you? You're the same all around, then and now. That's great!"

He pats you on the back, leaving red stains on it, and guides you out. Apparently, he respects you enough to let you live, and not lock you in that room of corpses with Barbara.

As you arrive home safe and intact (physically, at least), you sigh in relief, feeling indebted to your alma mater for forcing you to take a class in ethics.

[playboysaleen]

Kalopisa. (2)

Kalopisa: (n.) The delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are. 

Parings: Victoria Neuman x Supe!Reader (GN) (Slight AU)

Chapter One - Chapter Two

Summary: You never had the best life. Being abducted at a young age, being raised in the most wanted mafia as a weapon, hell- becoming the most feared in the gang. But…Truth is, you only wanted freedom. Being able to wake up and not have to wonder if you were going to see the sunset again. What happens when your wish partially comes true and you are offered your freedom but at what cost? Oh, you’ll see. 

Warnings: Death, Swearing, everything you done seen is the Boyz is what you should expect here.

Word Count: 3.4k (not proof read.)

Slight AU.  Slight German dialect. Reader speaks and has a french accent. I realized that in the show they are russian....its slight AU anyways they gonna be german here so bear with me lol. This chap is a little background on the reader. So you can grasp the reason why the reader is the way they are.

__________________________

A little backstory on you since now the boyz are on their toes to get you not only their wish but yours as well. 

When you were a toddler, you were taken from your family by the underground. Nina your ‘boss’ was on the table to wipe your entire family including you but when she entered the room to see you hunched over your dead mother crying she did not hesitate to create a soft spot for you. Well, it wasn’t the tears you were spilling but the sight around you. She could care less about the cries but the bodies that laid behind you. She didn’t mind the sippy cup of milk that was dripping from the nightstand but a smile grew on her face when there was the blood seeping into your clothes from the mess you made. The death of four of her men ignited a flame in her…she had a weapon. 

Weapon this. Weapon that. That was all you were. The constant urge to rip that woman to shreds but for what? To be on the run for the rest of your life? Fuck that. You remember sitting on the kitchen counter watching Nina clean the blood that stained your jaw. You kept your guard up but her hand was placed against your cheek and it sent you over the edge. You cried in her arms for a few seconds till a firm grip on your jaw caused the sobs to stop in your throat. Eyes were locked and you could smell the anger in her veins. She was disgusted with your emotions.

After that night you remembered walking back to your room with her hand giving you a reassuring squeeze every now and then till you were guided past your door down the hall. You still remember the smell of infected flesh and alcohol once her hand was placed on the handle as she opened the door. You were thrown into the room with a few other men that were quick to attack you. Waterboarded then zapped with volts that could fry a human to a crisp, then waterboarded again, strung up and beaten till your face was unrecognizable. It hardly sent you over the edge but what got you to your limit is when they would not feed you. You couldn’t go two days or more without feeding- you became submissive. Leaning against the bars, using the last of your weight to extend out your hand when Nina crouched down to your position smiling your way. This went on for years until there was nothing left in you to cry about. Till this day, you could feel the zaps against your neck when the water engulfed you whole when you stepped into your shower. You were 11. Eleven. 

Who was Malina? Ah, a story that does indeed get you riled up. On your 18th birthday you were granted to leave the underground for the night with the friends you made to celebrate your entrance to adulthood. You had a friend that wasn’t with you in the shithole you lived in. Malina. Meeting her was a bit sketchy but from the life you lived it was a simple weekly drug deal you do on the daily. You leaned against the run down building playing with your hoodie strings when the woman appeared around the corner. 

“Took you long enough,” You muttered out, pulling the wad of cash out of your pocket as she huffed, sending you a bright smile. 

“Tony did not shut up about what to wear for tonight, I completely lost track but hey! He is coming and he is bringing along his friend.” She spoke out reaching for the money when you pulled your hand back sending her a look. She chuckled, removing the backpack and unzipping; showing you the product. You nodded waving the cash in her face, 

“Tell Tony I’d give him a big fat kiss if I was not gay.” You joked out earning a laugh from the girl in front of you. She grabbed the payment without her fingers running over your own. Her smile faded as she took a step towards you, 

“I’ll make sure Tony keeps all this under the rug for tonight.” She whispered, you stayed silent feeling her breath against your lips. Your eyes ran across her face but stayed on her plumped lips when all you could do is nod. You always felt this bubbling feeling in your stomach when you met her two years ago, but you couldn’t do much about it with you being 16 and her twenty-two. You heard the men from the underground mention women and it was safe to say you had a little crush on the woman but throughout the two years, you were coming to understand maybe you did like her. 

“See you tonight Malina.” You whispered, taking a step back making your way out of the alley. You opened the backpack taking another glance to make sure the supply was correct knowing Malina she just grabs and runs your way. The small box labeled ‘Red River’ sent a huff out your mouth but you took a peek to see the blue vials knowing it was another successful deal. 

“Je ne vais pas boire, j'ai dix-huit ans, pas vingt et un, idiot” (I am not going to drink. I am eighteen, not twenty-one dumbass.) You scolded the man slapping the back of his head. Dani pointed his beer your way when another bucket was placed on your table. Music softly rang throughout the poolhall when all you wanted to do is go slam your head against the concrete wall. You were babysitting these connards (assholes) instead of actually enjoying yourself. 

“How about this,” Danill laughed out, placing a beer in front of you. “You drink with us and I will take the next name tomorrow. Have time with that mutterloses mädchen (motherless girl) of yours.” You rolled your eyes but gave in when you grabbed the bottle taking a long swig. Danill and the goons cheered, patting your back as you huffed, grabbing the pool stick, walking to the table. 

“Qui va se faire botter le cul ensuite?” (who is getting their ass beat next?”) you sang out swiftly hitting the 8 ball into the pocket. Alexi grumbled out some German swears plopping down the seat next to Danill. 

“I got next.” You turned to see Malina removing her coat, you noticed Tony whispering to the girl next to him. ‘No one is going to see you.’ His friend nodded, releasing a shaky breath. Her eyes locked with yours and everything stopped. You could hear her heart beating in your ears and you couldn’t stop the small grin that painted your face. You found your next meal. Malina pulled you into a hug when you wrapped her arms around her waist as the feeling disappeared from within you. You leaned back but your body froze when her lips were placed against the corner of your mouth. 

“I got twenty on V.” Tony blurted out, Danill raised his beer his way adding, 

“I got twenty on your friend then,” Tony chuckled, waving his bill, slapping it on the edge of the pull table. V was your alias name to everyone you knew but the truth is, you don't even know your real one. The night was spent betting on you and Malina plus a couple rounds of booze. It was safe to say you were indeed having a good time. 

“Oh my god, this is my song!” Malina gushed, grabbing your hand that was focused on hitting the solid ball when it sent the 8 right into the pocket. Some groaned and most cheered getting money into their hands but you were more focused on trying not to trip over your feet when Maline dragged you through the crowd. You were freaking out, you didn’t know what to do- hell, you didn’t know if you could even dance. Your thoughts went silent when your hands were placed on her waist pulling you in. You followed her movement but soon slowed down when your eyes flickered to Tony's friend starting your way. Tony was too focused on trying to get the same treatment you were getting. He was in love with his best friend, huh good luck with that. You hummed softly when you smelled the nervousness from the girl in front of you, she wanted to kiss you…and she did. You let yourself get lost in this feeling but the sad truth about it all was that it wasn't yours. It was hers. 

“Nadia!” You heard Tony yell out over the music when you turned your head breaking the kiss. Malina chased you down for another kiss but you pulled away following a very stressed Tony. Exiting out the back, you walked down the alley to find Tony with his hands in the air shouting. 

“What do you want from me Nadia? I gave you everything and you’re already head over heels for the fucking kid?” 

“It’s not that Tony, please just stop.” She pleaded, Malina stood next to you watching the sight unfold. Tony was jealous? Do you? You took a step when Tony gripped her arm when she tried walking away. 

“Tony stop,” Malina shouted, Nadia's head turned your way when you stood there matching her gaze. A static voice sounded in your ears but you were quick to flinch at the feeling of warmth splattering against your face. You turned to face Malina but all you saw was red. Blood invaded your nose but the overwhelming feeling of pain struck you deep, you turned to see Tony with his hands behind his head panicking.

“Oh god Nadia, we need to go.” He pleaded yanking on her coat when all she could do was stand there frozen under your emotionless gaze. 

‘This is Beta-2, Suspect 2 has been neutralized. Please evacuate the scene, FBSA will arrive at 5.’ 

You watched Nadia’s eyes turn white but for some reason she couldn't do it. You were the target and she failed. Tony yanked her one last time till she turned on her heels fleeing the scene. You took one last glance at what was left of Malina walking back into the pool house. 

“Ils sont là (they’re here), We have five minutes.” You spoke out grabbing your coat, Danill whistled and everyone was quick to gather their belongings heading out the backdoor. 

“Scheisse, is that-” Danill started but you walked past him hopping onto your bike roaring it to life. 

“I will meet you there. I need to handle something.” speeding out towards the main road, you kept your head low when the flashes of those american colors flew by you. You knew the saying from the underground. "You take one, we take all.” 

You killed an entire FBSAs safe house that night. Unlatching from the last soldier you leaned back into the wall watching him crawl away from you. Heavy breaths were heard from you when you felt something sliding down your cheek. You were crying. Why the fuck where you crying? Quickly wiping away the tears, you grabbed the soldier as he whimpered under your stare. 

“Tell this Nadia that I will kill Tony and she will be next.” 

The man nodded as you let him scurry away heading back to the vought tower. You looked around the room at the lifeless, shredded, and drained bodies and it still didn't…help. The survivor did what he was told running into the main office crying out what had been done but once questions were asked the man dropped limp to the ground with black ooze sizzling its way out of his nose and mouth. With the venom you left in his bloodstream gave him enough time to say his goodbyes to his family and well… to get your message across. 

They couldn't find you since then. You went dark. Your face couldn’t be found on any security or satellite cameras but you did fulfill half your promise. Two years after the loss of Malina, you found Tony running another grimey team for Red River. You left witnesses so Nadia and her little team can clean up their mess but you only wanted one person. 

“I will give you anything V, please.” Tony begged as he cradled himself like an innocent fetus. You could see his vein pulsating on the side of his neck, but you did not want to drink from him. The small room seemed to shrink with the rage you felt once you found him but you knew what to do. You walked further into the room with your hands in your pockets clicking your tongue, 

“Oh Tony, Tony, Tony…” you sang out crouching down to his side, grabbing his jaw. You looked over his expression when in truth, his fear was all you needed in this moment. 

“Malina was your friend, no? What makes you think she won’t burst you to bits too?” You cooed out aggressively letting go of his jaw. You stood to your feet walking to the center of the room clasping your hands together. 

“Here is the plan- you have two options.” You started pointing your finger his way. 

“You can tell me where your friend is and I will make this quick, or if you still think she feels the same way and you do not tell me…then I will make sure you can feel death pulling you out of your body when I drain every last drop of your blood- your choice.” Tony cried out a bunch of ‘no’s’ to which you pouted grabbing the broken bat that laid against the night stand placing it softly on his jaw. He whimpered once more when you lifted his head up to face you. 

“It is a shame that you think that monster is going to love someone like you. She could have saved you by now but…” His eyes caught the blinking red light of the camera that was hidden in the corner of the room. “From the looks of it, I think she is enjoying the show. Now, any last words to her before I decide myself on what I shall do for you?” You hummed at his silence but soon smiled when he started wailing out his pleas to the camera. Backpedaling to the door, you placed your hand on the light switch waiting for his cries to die down but the man kept going. 

Clapping your hands together, Tony looked your way, 

“Oh shut the fuck up, you talk too much.” You mumbled, flicking off the light. His screams were music to your ears and you haven't even started yet. You stalked your way to him but stopped when you stood in front of him. You turned your head to face the camera flashing your blood-coated fangs. Little did you know, she was watching the entire time. She did not feel anything for the man that pleaded for her aid but the heat that pooled between her legs when your red eyes hued on her screen was so wrong but…fuck did she loved the feeling. 

“No, no nonono Please! Please V! Plea-” A gasp was heard from the woman when she slapped a hand over her mouth at the crunch that echoed from her screen. The loud gulps could be heard from the way you drank him dry. A moan slipped your mouth at the taste of his fear igniting the fire in her chest. A masked cough slipped from her when all she wanted to do is go along with the sounds you were making, god how she wanted to feel your fangs piercing her neck with your hand wrapped around her thro- 

“We will get a team down there-” a voice interrupted her fantasies, she lifted her hand shaking her head. 

“No, they will continue to come back and we have bigger things on our hands.” A loud thud sounded from the laptop as you dropped his body back onto the ground. 

“Oh Nadia…” you sang out, leaning against the wall waving at the camera. She turned her full attention to you. You were a killer. A monster and she was into every single bit of it. 

“One day, I will find you; pray to the gods that I am having a good day…and I’m fed.” You breathed out, moving closer to the camera waving the head of her beloved decapitated friend displaying the biggest fanged smile. 

“Until then mon amour.” 

You weren’t a child. You couldn’t even consider yourself being one since you had your childhood stripped away when you could barely walk. You were the devil. The boogeyman of every adult's nightmares. You were FBSA most feared. 

It’s been five years since then. The way your fingernails dug into the spade table when you saw her enter the screen with her navy blue pants suit. Who knew she’d be a dangerous super holding hands with the federal government. Her smile made your head want to explode but for some odd reason, you enjoyed the little rush of needles that poked its way into your dead heart. 

Now you had nowhere to go, Frenchie was the only person you could trust so here you were in a donut shop with Frenchie gawking over the glazed donut. 

“You have to try this one, Kimiko requested it for you!” He beamed pointing at the strawberry covered donut. You hummed as he took that as a yes, asking the lady for two. You stood watching him smile at the lady receiving the change. It was 5 in the morning, just an hour after the incident with Victoria. Butcher and Hughie suggested that it was best for you to take a breather while they find a way to get some sort of drug from this hideout Victoria once owned. 

“I did not know the Frenchie was a little chatte.” (pussy) Frenchie playfully shoved you when you stumbled back a bit. A laugh spilled your lips when you swung your arm over his shoulder. 

“Kimiko showed me a side to life I did not know there was. It is a nice cauchemar, you should visit that place sometime.” He playfully defended. You scoffed, shaking your head at his antics when he shoved a bottle of chocolate milk into your chest. You inspected the drink as a smile fought its way to your face. 

“I remember you used to steal these from the corner store for me.” You laughed out, opening the bottle taking a long sip. A satisfied sigh was heard from you when you both made way into the elevator. He patted your shoulder smiling softly, 

“Well, now you can get as many as you want.” He assured you, he opened the door and walked in but he gave you a smirk, “not too many we don't need un gros démon, what is the point?”(a fat demon) you shoved him once he placed the bag of treats on Kimiko's desk. You wandered deeper into the office making your way up stairs to the loft area entering the bedroom. You took a seat on the small sofa that sat next to the bed, you fought between the urge of snapping her neck and…running your finger through her hair. 

She starred in her sleep moving her head turned to face you when you leaned back into the sofa letting it engulf you whole. Your eyes raked over her face when you tried everything and anything to look away but you couldn’t. You wanted her dead. 

“I’m surprised I didn’t burst to pieces while I was asleep.” She spoke, fluttering her eyes open to meet your threatening stare. You leaned deeper into the sofa open your legs a big wider, 

“I like to play with my food before I feed.” 

Her heart sped up with what came out of your mouth and you caught it. She moved onto her stomach as the sounds of the cars now driving to work were heard outside the window. Her eyes never leaving yours, 

“Why didn’t you kill me?” She whispered. Tilting your head, you moved from your position leaning closer that you were only a foot apart from her. 

“Where is the fun in that?” You whispered as your eyes flashed the red that has haunted her dreams from years ago. You wanted to kill her but something about her led you to wanting to see a certain side in action and…it wasn’t to kill Homelander. 

_____________________

One thing i am going to say... there will be alot of tension in this. Im not only teasing yall, I am doing this to myself lmfaooooo.

[chrollo-lucilfers-chains]

Homelander x gn!reader

A really bad day.

Warnings: crying, Homelander (he's not the one crying tho)

He'd just been sitting on the couch reviewing some documents for Vought, when his ears had picked up on your presence entering the building. His focus immediately shifts completely to you, about fifteen floors down, as you enter the elevator to his suite.

Reason for his piqued attention are the tiny sniffles his super hearing has picked up. They mean that you either have a cold or that you are crying.

Either of those would be an immediate call for high alert for Homelander. Humans are so very fragile...

You can't be sick, he reasons. You hadn't been sick in the morning, when you'd left for work.

So you're crying.

And yes, the sound is muffled, like you're trying to hold it together and not quite getting the hang of it, but it's still notably the sound of tears.

Homelander's eyebrows furrow. Somehow, that's worse than you being sick.

From his current position, he listens intently to the sound of the elevator moving upwards until there's a telltale ring and you shuffle inside his apartment complex.

He hears you take off your shoes while he's drifting towards the hallway.

You see the movement in the corner of your eye and look up at him, eyes meeting his. When you realize that he's really here, your eyes begin to water again.

Immediately he is by your side, holding your shoulders and checking your body for any injuries.

He finds nothing physically wrong with you but before he can ask, you fling yourself into his arms and start sobbing uncontrollably.

Your hands find his back and then he feels the muscles of your arms squeeze him with all your non-powered-regular-human-strength might.

He freezes. This is new.

Homelander listens intently to any new sounds but thankfully the crying seems to be the only noise of distress you let out. Or at least he can't make out any whimpers of pain or something of the sort.

Slowly, afraid to startle you, he relaxes his body. Strong ams wind around your form and pull you closer.

He's honestly scared he might spook you with moving too much, as if he were handling a small animal.

Homelander doesn't like dealing with crying from others, unless it's tears of happiness. People he saves often cry out of relief or from the shock but most of the time he leaves those to the paramedics or other heroes around as soon as possible.

You're his partner. He can't do that here.

This is the first time he's seen you cry, now that he thinks about it. It would make sense for you to cry sometimes, as it is in the normal range of human emotions but the two of you have only been dating for about two months now and known each other for four. So this display of emotions from you is entirely new to him.

'Come on, Homelander', he thinks, 'get your act together'.

He's not going to hand his crying partner to somebody else just because he doesn't know how to deal with human emotions very well...

So he tries to remember his training. What did they tell him to do in these situations?

Oh dear, your hands must hurt with all this clenching going on at his back. He just knows your muscles must be tired at this point.

Not for the first time, he curses his upbringing. Dealing with emotions had come rather short in his education. The focus had always been on how to destroy, never how to comfort.

But that one time they'd given him a lesson on how to deal with people in distress for of his public image.

However, that doesn't really apply here, he reasons. It might even be impersonal. You're not some random fan he can pat on the back and leave!

So when he picks you up, arms draped over his shoulders, legs wrapped around his waist, he's operating purely on instinct. He's seen a man do this in a movie once and it had worked there, so he takes the gamble.

To his relief, you tighten your grip on him and cling to his body like a little koala, tears still wetting the material of his suit.

The mental image is quite cute, he will admit. Then again, so are you.

Walking back to the couch, he settles the two of you into the soft pillows for a little comfortability. You can't just keep standing in the hallway forever.

Noticing the fuzzy blanket he'd bought for you few weeks ago because his place is always cold, he shifts you around and clumsily wraps you in the soft, red fabric, until you're sitting in a cocoon on his lap.

You've stopped crying at this point as well. There's still the occasional sob or sniffle but for the most part you're just clinging onto him and hiding your face in his neck.

He pats your head awkwardly and you let out a tiny laugh that gets muffled in his neck.

It's quite nice like this, he notices. Not the crying, of course. But have you this close, needing physical comfort which nicely feeds his own cravings for your touch.

He'd actually quite like you like this, all vulnerable, if it weren't for your upset state and the crying... He doesn't like those...

After a while, he experimentally places a soft kiss on your head and you pull away slightly to look at him.

Your eyes and cheeks are red from crying and your face is a little puffy but it's kinda cute in his eyes.

"Do you feel better?" He asks, continuing to stroke your hair.

You nod and take a deep breath.

"Better," you sniffle. "Thanks for being here. I- I needed that hug and I just really felt like seing you. Sorry, I had-... I had a really shitty day..."

His brain stops at that, having just had a revelation.

Constellations in his mind shift just the tiniest bit.

You trust him.

You came to him for comfort.

Not because there was nobody else either but because you genuinely wanted to see him and thought his being there would bring you calm! You felt like seeing him would make you feel better!

The most dangerous person in the world (not that you realize that) and you came to him for comfort.

Deep in his chest, pride and satisfaction begin to swell, along with a new kind of warmth he's never felt before. He doesn't even try to fight the broad smile that sneaks onto his face.

"It's fine! You can always come to me for comfort. I don't mind!" He reassures you, cheerfully,

"I really don't mind."

His arms tighten around you just the tiniest bit. Well, there's no way around it. Seems like he'll just have to protect you from now on.

[teastainedprose]

Homelander x fem!reader

Sugar Daddy Homelander

At first, Homelander kept you surrounded in flowers. These felt more like a learned gesture the man orchestrated automatically over any personal gift. You soon learn that he's a diehard romantic, insisting on going by the book. A lady should have flowers. His girlfriend would have flowers.

Like clockwork, every week roses would show up on your doorstep. Always lovely, of course but even you can grow tired of a rose scented apartment. It came to the point of you casually gaining an obsession with the language of flowers, which Homelander eagerly latched onto as well. Except now you have to decode the messages every time and correctly or he's prone to get all huffy and pouts the rest of the day.

You now keep a cheat sheet in your phone's note app.

Now the first true gift? That was unexpected but not much of a surprise. Homelander had invited you out to some upper crust Vought party to show you off and of course none of your chain-store items were up to snuff. The color of the dress he'd picked? Blue, of course. A midnight shimmer that made you feel like the night sky for how the light danced across the sequins. How Homelander managed to get your exact dress size, you never figured out but it still feels like a question best left unanswered.

The second gift was less of a surprise, but more of an apology. Homelander had taken to many a nightly visit to your apartment and to say you broke the bed would have been an understatement. In truth, he broke the bed but Homelander still blames you. Cracked the headboard because your mouth had been too clever.

Now the third gift? That had felt like one where you'd wish you had kept your mouth shut. Your old, reliable laptop had been showing its age. You complained, in an affectionate manor as the device is an old friend from your Uni days but Homelander had taken it to heart. The next day, something sleek and red had been sitting on the spot where your old, banged up laptop use to reside. Then came the conversation of how computers worked and yes, you actually do need all of the files from your old one. That was the only day you'd been thankful for cloud storage.

By now, you know to hold your tongue when bemoaning any beloved items in your apartment but that doesn't mean you don't enjoy not so discreetly digitally window shopping and letting out some pitiful sighs as you longingly look at a purse out of your price range. You always act surprised and delighted when Homelander presents it to you a few days later, crooning your praise while making certain to shower him in kisses. The man melts every time without fail.

There are certain perks to dating the most powerful man in the world and you're allowed to enjoy them.

[homelandercollection]

Everybody out here be writing some absolute god tier stuff for Homelander and I rlly wanna join in but my adhd makes it nigh impossible to write 😭

BUT STILL! I wrote a little drabble of filth that I will put out there!

Reader is amab, but no gender is actually specified. Enjoy!

 

        Homelander kissed like he intended to devour, licking into you with a desperate fervour that left you breathless as he clutched at you on the verge of too tightly. As though if he didn’t hold onto you, you might disappear.

         Out of all the pretty women that would be happy to turn a blind eye to his warning signs, of all the people eager to drop to their knees for him, somehow it was you that had captivated his attention. You who had left him a bleeding mess with his heart split across the floor to be scooped back up in your weary touch, a fragile thing beneath his own where his searing hands sliding under your shirt made you come apart for him just as he did for you. When he gripped you by the shoulders to turn you onto your belly, you moaned at the weight of him pressing you against the couch, of the urgent hardness digging into the vulnerable place where your ass met your thighs, and squirmed not to get away, but to get closer. It was all he could do to groan in your ear, delirious on the sight and smell and taste of you. He could so easily tear you apart, lay you out like an artistic splatter of reds and purples and mauves to study and to feel, yet instead he fucked you in your living room like it was the closest he would ever get to such visceral fantasizes. It certainly felt like it was, your body underprepared for the girth of his cock and the vigor of his thrusts, your aching whines an assurance in his mind that he was hurting you.

         And yet still you did not plead for him to stop, did not beg for him to slow down, instead you reached to touch any and all parts of him once you were sweating and tired and he’d flipped you onto your back. His sides, his chest, his shoulders. His face. Praising him through your tears, as though a deer should comfort the tiger eating it alive. Perhaps you were not as breakable as he’d thought, the brilliant blue of his gaze caught in your watery eyes as you tried not to squeeze them shut against the force of his adoration for you, spelled out plain and unimpeded where it dripped from you as he eventually withdrew himself. He pressed his essence back into the velvet heat of your ass with probing fingers that made you mewl after the onslaught you had so graciously taken, kissed you dizzy with his soft lips and pearly teeth that sucked and bit at your skin down, down past your heaving belly to the leaking, twitching mess of your cock that he swallowed down with the same sureness he had fucked you with.

It was a passionate, obsessive way that he made love, every touch demanding to receive the same devotion he proffered, every bite and growl needing to be met with a soothing forgiveness, immediate and unconditional. Bruises were to be admired, his attentions acknowledged, pleasure to be enjoyed just as he had taken it from you himself. The taste of you upon his tongue was enough to make him nearly shut his eyes in satisfaction as you choked his name and bucked into his mouth, fingers twisted in his hair. Still he didn’t stop, pressed deeper to suckle until you were soft and hypersensitive, sure to take all of you in as he sat back with a smug smile. Sweaty and flushed, tired with lingering aches inside and out, looking up at him like the devoted worshipper you were, he knew you were his.

But even with his hunger momentarily satiated, with his smile soft and pleased and his touches grown possessive rather than greedy, you knew it wasn’t enough. His eyes were sharp, calculating, lingering along your body as though he was prying deep beneath tissue and ligament and into your bloodstream where your heart fluttered just for him. How far would he be able to push until you couldn’t hold any more of him? How far would you let him take you until you shattered apart? And how far would his fascination in you let him enjoy it.

[writeshite]

How would Thor/Homelander/Soldier boy react to them accidently hurting (emotionally or physically) their bf?

Thor:

Probably the only one here with some emotional intelligence, and yeah, he used to be arrogant, but he's a sweetheart, an absolute angel. Thor is most likely very in tune with how you convey emotions, I mean he worships the ground you walk on.

If he hurts you physically, and you end up scared of him, I can see two things that could happen, he either distances himself from you for a while to work through the mental breakdown that probably hits him. Second option is he hovers; I mean, the man can summon thunder and control lightning - regardless of what species you are (Kree, Human, Asgardian, Elf, Skrull, etc.) - he's gonna be concerned cause I mean, he could maybe indirectly stop your heart, or crush your internal organs, or just hurt you brutally and painfully in any other way.

If he hurts you emotionally, he's groveling; he's doing everything in his power to show how sorry he is and how much he loves you. He'll probably ask you what you want, if you want distance he'll give it to you, he'll stay away until you call back and hopes it doesn't lead to a breakup.

Homelander:

Like father like son, I guess. Sort of. I think with all the time he's spent around people and getting high of approval, he at least has some sort of knowledge on emotions, but not like in a healthy normal way, more in a 'I've been around people crying and whining before I know enough to be able to speedrun the crying stage and get to the forgiveness part' if that makes sense.

Also, I feel like it would also depend on how your relationship is; if you and Homelander have a genuine thing going on, then he'd probably put in effort cause he doesn't want to lose the only source of actual genuine affection in his life. So you'd probably get an apology, some gifts, anything Homelander thinks will get him back in your good graces. And then cuddles.

If your relationship is a fling of some kind or fake relationship to hype the masses with no romantic feelings of any kind involved on his end, then you ain't getting no apology honey 💀, because I mean, he likes to embarrass people who he perceives have wronged him, so even if he's the one at fault for hurting you physically or mentally, it'll somehow become your fault, so he'll probably bring the fight out into the public, use Vought to paint you as the one in the wrong, if you don't want that to happen then you should apologize, you're the one who's wrong here.

Soldier Boy:

I love Ben, I do, but I know this man has like the emotional bandwidth of a rock like he's probably still trying to process being attracted to not only women while also trying to unpack his goofy ass douchebaggery.

I don't think Ben would notice at first if he hurt you emotionally, or if he does, he'd probably think you'd get over it and then be shocked if/when you don't. He'd feel bad and experience the wonderful world of guilt.

If he hurt you physically, he'd notice a lot quicker, and probably feel worse, I feel like he's the kind of guy who takes physical injuries/pain more seriously than emotional and mental.

[vampdes]

— “DARLING, DON’T YOU LOVE ME?” [do you love those kids more than you love the second most powerful supe in the world? you could crush his skull with your thighs and he’d love it. why do you not love him? oh love him, for everyone’s sake.]

GENRE. smut + unhealthy fluff

PAIRING. homelander x gn!reader

CW. lowercase intended, gn!reader, top!reader, amab!reader, single parent!reader, supe reader, mood swings [john]. PETNAMES. sugar, sweetheart, asshole [affectionate/derogatory]. KINKS. cockwarming, manhandling [?], heat/hot touch [?].

NOTES. this is a VERY, VERY old draft from 2020, i js had it in my drafts so in posting it but it is also a blurb /⁠ᐠ⁠｡⁠ꞈ⁠｡⁠ᐟ⁠\. enjoy!! <3

serene was the name given to the newest, most powerful vought supe of all time. you, more powerful than the seven put together, were sat on top of a stage at one of the press conferences. you were being asked questions, but it was tireless nevertheless.

“the workspace? between me and you–amazing breakfast, there’s a pool shaped like idaho on the 34th floor, and amazing co-workers! it couldn’t be better, really.” you joked, a heart-warming laugh leaving your lips. in all honesty, your personality made women’s panties drop; mainly because you were stunningly hot, enjoyed ‘little women’, and, according to social media, were written by a woman.

the female reporter who asked the questioned laughed along with you before allowing another reporter to speak. the next reporter stood up and asked if you have a lover, which was a random out-of-the-blue question.

“me? oh goodness, all the attention is on me now!” you joked, a wry laugh leaving your throat after you had sat up straight. “well, i do–” you started before glancing over at madelyn stillwell, her head shook in a non-approving way. then, the idea of the repercussions get shoved in your head.

on one hand, john would be angry. but on the other hand, vought is your job, a high-paying job at that, therefore you need to keep it for the sake of you and your children. “i do not.” you declared, looking back into the camera, “unfortunately, i’m just looking for the right one.” you could feel the grip john had on your thigh since the beginning of the panel tighten, it didn’t hurt in the slightest but you could still feel the leather prodding at your thigh.

the interview ended swimmingly after a few more questions given to the rest of the team, and after all that you just wanted to go home, cook and eat with your children, and then take a nap. however, john wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen.

“why did you lie? you’re ashamed of me, aren’t you?” he screamed, he threw your handmade vases against the floor in a fit of rage. “john, please–alexis and truly are waiting for me, so i need to leave; we can talk about this tomorrow.” you combed a hand through your tangled hair after you had gathered your clothes in your bag, and slung it over your shoulder. you face was free of makeup, which shown your deep, horrid eyebags; and it was obvious you needed sleep. john didn’t care though, he wanted answers, he demanded answers and he would be damned if he didn’t get any.

“you obviously lied! you’re a liar! you probably don’t even have children! oh my god, you’re a fucking–” his eyes started to glow red, that’s when you knew it was enough. you silenced his continuing rambling with a kiss, and he immediately melted against your lips. the kiss was longer than you intended it to be, and only breathless pecks and fuzzy feelings were what remained as the after-affects. “i love you, john, i truly do with all my heart.” he nodded at your words, a deadly, light blush covering his cheeks and the tips of his ears. you laughed, the smile on john’s face made a smile come on your face.

“i love you, [name],” he declared, “so fucking much–” john hastily kissed you. desperation, agony, love overflowed into the kiss, and fuck it was crazy how good john is at kissing.

“fuck, john, wait-” he shut your complaining up with more kisses, more fondling, more desperation. “i want you so badly. so, so fucking badly.” he whispered against your lips after pecking you once more. he straddled you, already rubbing himself against your clothed crotch, and he was enjoying himself rather too much.

“please, i need you so badly.” john knew better than to just fuck himself on your cock without your permission first. “do you think you deserve it, sweetheart, really?” john nodded, eyebrows furrowing together as he could feel his cock twitch against his thigh, just feeling his cock rub against your own made his head spin. john, somewhat, calmed down and now he was resting on top of your lap, cockwarming you.

it was just so good to be on top of you, feeling your cock reach the deepest depths of pleasure no other could reach was so fucking good. john needed to ride you, it was like an unbearable urge residing deep inside of him; fortunately, he commits to all of his urges. the feeling of your cock moving in and out of him was more than drool-worthy, it felt so, so, so fucking good. you told him he was supposed to just sit there and be grateful for what he’s being given, but he didn’t care to listen, no matter the consequences he would receive. you felt so good inside of him, your cock touched every single nerve inside of him and it sent a shiver through his body.

“sweetheart, stop.” you warned, trying to focus on your work rather than john’s desperation, but he didn’t listen. again. you took off your suit-issued gloves and the protective ones underneath, and wrapped a hand around his waist. the skin-burning heat made him buckle down against your torso, quivering and whimpers followed soon after. “you’re an asshole, john. you only listen when i use force like a dog who needs to be taught a lesson.” you spat. “again..” he meekly whispered against your neck, heavy, hot breaths coming from him.

“again?” you questioned, a sinister snare on your face, “what, you want it hotter? enough to hurt you?”, your inquiry received a shaky ‘hurry up’ from him. you laughed a little before placing your freezing cold hand on his lower back, john started to complain before the heat wave spread across his body, igniting his skin aflame. “a–ah! nngh..” he wanted to say stop, the pain was unbearable but it felt so, so good. the homelander was enjoying the pure pleasure that pain brings him. drool went down his lower lip and his chin, fuck it felt so good to be in pain. your cock twitched inside of him after he clutched around you, trying to regain his senses and register what his main focus is. you realized how far-off he was, which was quite a wonderful look, and decided that it was your job to fuck the sense back into him.

after closing the macbook on your desk and removing your right hand’s suit-issued glove and protective glove, you gripped his thighs, your nails digging into his flesh, and lifted him up, only a few meters above your lap. “what’re you–” before he could finish his sentence, a loud, girlish moan left his lips. he instinctively covered his mouth with his gloved hands, not wanting to be so vulnerable in front of you. “c’mon sugar, let me hear your beautiful voice.” his face flushed at your words, but that sweet, sentimental moment didn’t last for long because you pounded back into him–repeatedly. every time your cock slammed back into him, a breathless moan departed from his lips. it was a harmony, a melodic noise that pierced through the tension-filled room.

“it’s... not enough, i want more, please give me more.” john begged and whined for more than touch. he wanted a burning sensation crawling up his spine, slowly but surely burning his skin. fucking hell, it was dangerous to do, he’d surely have second to third degree burns along his backside, but he wouldn’t dare to stop, even if he was down to bare bone. “burn me, fucking burn me before i—”, john let a shrill pass his lips after his skin turned a sickish red shade, cum coated his lower abdomen from the exciting feeling of him being perched on hells hottest fire.

john’s body was covered in life-threating burns, saliva running down his chins, and his blue eyes glazed over: a sight for a pair of lucky-as-fuck eyes. he seemed to be passing out. it was too much, maybe. probably. most likely. he was so beautiful when he was done being a bitch, and fuck he felt so good inside. john pulled you down by your tie and pressed your into his, which effectively made a whimper leave his throat.

it was evidently obvious you would be home late due to taking care of a certain someone’s needs.

© CREDITS TO ur1nonlydan. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE, REPOST, OR COPY MY WORKS

[angelyuji]

violent short-tempered yandere type characters

i cant remember where i got this idea. either i saw it on a show or it came to me in a dream.... alsooo im mostly basing this off of rick sanchez cuz im insane and i love my men crazy, smart, and old. im also addicted to rick and morty rn and im praying the next season comes out soon..... anyway

tw // murder, kidnapping, yandere stuff, treating someone like an object/pet (i cant remember the word for it)

they're busy people. they dont have time to date you or stalk u for long periods of time. they’re impatient and short-tempered and generally assholes. they literally saw you once and thought u were the cutest thing ever.

they watched, angrily, as your partner’s hand squeezes your butt. they watched as you giggled, lightly pushing your partner. they knew in one glance that you shouldn't be with your asshole partner. you deserved better. someone smarter, kinder, stronger like themselves. their fists clenched as they pushed past everyone in the way, seeing red. no one is allowed to touch you like that except for them. no one should be able to feel your warmth and see your smile except for them. they finally get close to the two of you and in one quick movement, your partner’s brains had splattered onto the pavement. your scream filled their ears and a sense of peace filled them. they grabbed your arm and the two of you disappeared from view.

you dont even have to meet them. one quick glance from you is all they need. they kill anyone in their path. anyone that poses a threat to you. anyone that even thinks about taking you away from them.

theyre mean to you, but all they want is to keep you safe. to hold you. to keep your love to themselves. they’re so easily jealous.

(like how rick cares abt his family, but he’s still an absolute asshole to them) (rick brainrot guys i need the old fuck NEOW) (i think i just love fictional older men who have committed heinous crimes…) (anyway)

the only time they’d be kind to u is if they feel like you’re pulling away or thinking of escaping. its a lot of hot and cold. you would constantly annoy them. to them, you should be seen, not heard. there when they need comfort, but you need to fuck off otherwise. you’re quite literally their pet. they keep you to entertain them.

definitely: homelander, omni-man, sukana, william afton, ooc rick sanchez

maybe: canon rick sanchez, ooc captain america

[a-small-safe-place]

His Haven Pt. 2

Homelander x Psychiatrist!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

As the weeks passed, Homelander continued to integrate himself into your life, blurring the lines between patient and "friend." One evening, after a particularly intense session, Homelander broached the subject of spending more time together outside of the therapy room. "I was thinking," he began, his blue eyes searching yours, "maybe we could grab a bite sometime. You know, outside of this place." Your heart sank, torn between the genuine connection you felt with Homelander and the professional boundaries you knew you needed to maintain. With all your other patients, you had discussed boundaries, but not with the members of The Seven. The Deep, A-Train, and Queen Maeve viewed these sessions as a waste of time. Starlight and Black Noir had kept a very professional relationship. You weren't totally sure why Black Noir still came to the sessions since his sessions were spent in silence, usually with him drawing pictures of Buster Beaver and his little buddies. Starlight was the only one that used the sessions for what they were meant for.

You had not thought you needed to set boundaries with them, and that, since these were America's greatest heroes, the boundaries were obvious and unspoken. Oh, how that had bitten you in the ass now, having to turn down the offer. You let those boundaries slip by allowing Homelander to come to your house, but in that situation, there was not a lot you could do to stop him.

"I appreciate the offer, Homelander, but it's important to keep our relationship within the confines of our sessions," you replied carefully, trying to hide the conflict in your eyes, unaware that he could hear your heartbeat and smell your nervousness. Homelander's expression shifted from hopeful anticipation to a subtle disappointment that cut through you. "Right, professional boundaries," he said, a forced smile tugging at his lips. It is the kind of smile that does not reach his eyes. "I get it." You could not let his dangerous expression get to you.

The following sessions became strained. Homelander seemed distant, his usually confident demeanor replaced by an air of vulnerability and irritation. You should be thanking him that he is interested in you. He attended sessions less frequently, and when he did, the conversations were stilted. It was clear that your rejection had affected him more than either of you anticipated. Homelander was not willing to give up. You just needed a chance to come around.

One day, after a difficult session, Homelander lingered in your office. "Is there something you're not telling me?" he asked, his tone a mixture of frustration and hurt. Homelander knew you did not have a partner in your life. He had stopped by to do a thorough search of your home while you were out, and there was no evidence of you dating someone, not even the smell of a casual hookup still lingering on your skin. You sighed, maintaining the professionalism that defined your role. "It's not that I don't value our sessions, Homelander. But crossing the boundaries of a therapeutic relationship can be detrimental for both of us," you explained, your words hanging heavily in the air. "I want what's best for you, and sometimes that means maintaining a professional distance."

Homelander's jaw tensed, and he stood abruptly. "So, I'm just another patient to you, is that it?" His eyes bore into yours, searching for a hint of vulnerability that matched his own. "No, Homelander, you're not just another patient," you replied softly, your heart aching at the pain evident in his eyes. "But I have a responsibility to ensure that our interactions remain focused on your well-being." He stormed out of your office without another word, leaving you with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. Homelander is a dangerous and unpredictable man. The once-promising therapeutic alliance had crumbled, replaced by an unspoken tension that hung in the air during each subsequent session.

Days turned into weeks, and the divide between you and Homelander deepened. He attended sessions less frequently, and when he did, the conversations were strained and unproductive. Of course, for Homelander, he still had his time with you even if you were oblivious to it. Though, he would much rather be in your arms than jacking off on the building next to yours while you participated in a similar activity in the warmth of your bed. 

One evening, after a silent session, Homelander was particularly grumpy in this session. He had expressed that he had a bad day. Homelander lingered at the door. "You should be fucking thanking me,” He pauses. “I am giving you the opportunity of a lifetime, and you're fucking throwing it away. Do you know how many people would leave their whole families just for one glance from me?”

The weight of his words settled heavily on your shoulders as he walked away, leaving you alone in the empty office. It made you wonder how dangerous Homelander really was and how desperate he would become if you continued to deny him. The once-promising connection had fractured irreparably, and the professional boundaries you fought so hard to maintain had come at the cost of a genuine connection with Homelander.

The weeks passed with a lingering tension between you and Homelander. The once-promising therapeutic alliance had crumbled, leaving behind an unspoken rift that seemed insurmountable. Homelander attended sessions less frequently, and when he did, the conversations were strained, devoid of the genuine connection that had defined your earlier interactions. It became evident that your rejection had affected him more deeply than either of you anticipated. Homelander, usually the embodiment of confidence, now wore an air of vulnerability and loneliness that tugged at your conscience. The sessions were marked by long pauses, resentful glances, and a palpable discomfort that neither of you could ignore. You couldn't shake the feeling of regret that lingered each time you saw him. The haunting realization that you had sacrificed something meaningful for the sake of professional decorum weighed heavily on your conscience. Late one evening, a knock echoed through your home. Homelander stood at the doorway, his usual confidence replaced by a vulnerability that mirrored the man you had glimpsed in the early days of your sessions. "I need someone to talk to," he admitted, his voice a whisper.

[venus-haze]

Lay All Your Love on Me (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: A communication breakdown has unintended consequences, but it’s all because Homelander loves you.

Note: Gender neutral reader and no descriptors are used. This is based on a request from @judyfromfinance and the ABBA song which is so Homelander coded. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: Jealousy, possessive behavior, violence (not toward the reader). We love miscommunication for plot reasons here! Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander had no reason to believe you were hiding from him. Your job kept you busy, and ironically enough, working for the same company didn’t guarantee that you’d see each other nearly as much as he’d like. When his texts went unanswered and he couldn’t so much as hear you during the day, though, his mind went into overdrive presenting him with every worst case scenario it could possibly conceive of.

Cheat. Cheat. Cheat.

His gloved hands balled into fists at his side. You would never cheat on him. He knew that. He did. But sometimes, it seemed like your heart didn’t ache for him the way his did for yours. You had a life outside of him, and as much as you tried to include him in it, he resisted. Things would be easier if it were just the two of you.

Trying your phone again, he called you, frustrated when it went straight to voicemail.

“Hey babe, it’s me. I’ve been trying to reach you all day. Give me a call back as soon as you can. I love you,” he said, adding a quick. “Call me back" for emphasis.

He groaned, throwing his phone aside and folding his arms over his chest. It was fine. He didn’t care that much anyway. At least that’s what he told himself as he glanced at his discarded phone every few seconds in hopes you’d call or text back. No dice.

As a last resort, he headed to the crime analytics department. You managed a small team of analysts who consulted with the state and federal government on Vought’s behalf. The two of you had met when Vought was trying to get supes in the military, and as far as Homelander was concerned, it was love at first sight.

Never mind that it took a few weeks to win you over, frustratingly committed to your job and hesitant to date a coworker. Even though he’d hardly consider the two of you coworkers. Sure, you both worked for Vought, but that was it as far as he was concerned. In his determination to woo you, he’d made some valuable connections in your department. At least, people who he knew would have some kind of scoop on you when he needed it.

“Hey Annika,” Homelander said, startling the young crime analyst as he approached her desk. “How’re you doing, pal?

“Hi Homelander,” she said, not quite able to keep eye contact with him. “Sir. I’m good. H-How are you?”

“You haven’t seen Y/N around today, have you?”

She shook her head. “Sorry.”

“Alright,” he said tensely, a painfully fake smile spreading across his face. “Keep up the good work.”

His smile faltered as he heard your name come up in a conversation on the other side of the room. A masculine voice, younger than his, far too much mirth for his liking when he spoke about you.

“Dude, I was in Y/N’s office for like an hour yesterday. I could barely concentrate. They are so fine.”

“You’re insane,” someone else laughed.

“What? Have you seen them?”

“They’re dating Homelander, dumbass.”

“Whatever. It won’t last. He and Maeve will get back together, and yours truly will be there to pick up the pieces.”

“If you say so.”

Homelander hadn’t noticed his eyes glowing red until Annika squeaked. Letting out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding, he looked at his…acquaintance.

“See you around,” he said, his chipper tone clearly strained.

Since you weren’t answering your phone and he still had no clue where you were, Homelander had all the time in the world to wait around for your sleazy subordinate to take a bathroom break. He wondered if you were aware of the man’s interest in you. It was a possibility, but he had to assure himself that you wouldn’t do anything to encourage it. He knew you wouldn’t bother with a miscreant like that, of all people, but the point needed to be made. No one could speak so vulgarly about you and expect him not to do something about it.

Fifteen minutes or so had passed, and Homelander spotted his name badge. Josh.

“Hey Josh! You have a minute, buddy?” Homelander asked, voice booming through the hallway, causing Josh to flinch. Homelander smirked a bit.

“Homelander! Is there something you need?”

“Yeah, actually, I just have a question about the crime analytics office.”

Josh nodded. “Sure, anything.”

“Did you see any Greek letters in there?”

“Wh-What?”

“Did you see any Greek letters in there? Maybe a keg and some drunk idiots wearing togas?”

“I don’t—“

“Did you?”

“No.”

“Then why were you in there talking about my partner like you were in a fucking frat house?” Homelander asked, cornering the slimy analyst. “You know Y/N and I are dating, right? Your idiot friend told you as much.”

Josh’s mouth flopped open and closed like one of the disgusting fish The Deep crusaded for. “I—I didn’t mean—“

“So either you’re incredibly stupid, or you have a death wish. Which one is it, buddy?”

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Homelander.”

Homelander chuckled, empty and hollow, reveling in the way he could practically smell the fear radiating off of the man in front of him. “You will be.”

With the way Josh was carrying on, Homelander would’ve thought he’d actually killed the guy. All he’d done was snap his arm and throw an elbow to his nose. He’d just bought the asshole a free rhinoplasty, far more generous than he deserved after what he did. 

Homelander sneered at the blubbering crime analyst, work shirt covered in his own blood. Pathetic, really. And he had the audacity to act like he was worthy of you. Throwing one final glare Josh’s way, Homelander walked off, wiping the blood off his gloves and onto his suit. It could be dry-cleaned out.

The outburst made him feel better than he had all day, though it didn’t answer the question of where the hell you were and why you weren’t answering him. Besides, he swore he heard the familiar sound of your footfall in the lobby. 

He supposed you wouldn’t be too happy if you came back to see one of your subordinates brutalized in the hallway. Just his luck, he spotted an intern in one of the unoccupied offices.

“Hey,” Homelander said, pausing a moment to read the intern’s badge, “Sammy, there’s a mess over by the crime analytics office, can you get someone to clean it up?” 

“Sure,” Sammy responded cheerfully.

“Thanks, it’s the little things that make this place run. You’re doing great,” he complimented, giving her a friendly pat on the shoulder.

Sammy returned his smile, obviously not questioning his sincerity. Homelander knew if he framed the whole thing as a favor, she’d be more likely to follow through. It was always good to have reliable people in his back pocket for things like that, worker bees who thought they were friends or something. She walked off, strides purposeful as she set off to complete her personal mission from Homelander.

Rushing over to the elevator, he listened for you, getting out on the fifteenth floor where he saw you just as you walked out of the bathroom. 

As soon as he made eye contact, he melted, making a beeline for you.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around Homelander. “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.”

“Where were you?” he asked, almost painfully returning your embrace.

“I told you I was presenting for the security council at the UN all day. No phones, remember?”

He huffed, releasing you from the hug. Fuck. “I guess—maybe that rings a bell. You shouldn’t tell me something so important while I’m distracted.”

“How much did you miss me?” you teased, holding up your pointer finger and thumb to pinch the air. “This much?” You spread your fingers wider. “This much?” Wider again, except before you could ask, Homelander scooped you up in his arms.

“Why don’t I show you?”

“Please do,” you said, tilting your head up to kiss him.

He retreated into the elevator with you, his lips capturing yours in a desperate kiss laced with longing. You giggled at him. You’d only been gone for a few hours, yet he was acting as though it had been days. 

You missed him too, resolving to focus your attention on him for the rest of the night.

Until your phone rang.

“I should get this.”

“Now you’re able to pick up a call?” he grumbled, setting you down.

“One minute,” you whispered, grabbing your phone, “then I’m all yours.”

He pressed the button to his suite, having forgotten to do so in the heat of passion. “You better be.”

You picked up your phone, amused at Homelander still clinging to you, kissing your neck. “Hello?”

“Josh from crime analytics?” you asked, tensing a bit when Homelander grazed his teeth on the crook of your neck. “I haven’t heard from him since he gave me the homicide report yesterday.”

Homelander hummed against your skin, and you let out a whimper only he could hear at the way it vibrated through you. He was smug, and it took you a moment to piece together why.

“Okay, talk to you tomorrow,” you said before hanging up. “What did you do?”

“Something chivalrous to defend your honor,” he mumbled, his lips unrelenting on your shoulder as he pulled your shirt down to expose it.

“I guess I should thank you properly, then? My knight in shining armor?”

He lifted his head, grinning, “If you insist.”

[librababe99]

Hi Loves! This will be my first time EVER participating in Kinktober and honestly i'm so excited to do this🤭 Below I will be posting my lineup.

❥・All of these stories will be "Character x Reader" and I promise there won't be any use of Y/N.

❥・Female Reader or Gender Neutral Reader will be featured.

❥・ If you'd like, you can comment your choices below and I will tag you OR use this link: CLICK HERE

Logan Howlett x Reader: Knife Play (ft. Claws)

Scott Summers x Reader: Sensory Deprivation

Old Man!Logan x Fem!Reader: Pregnancy kink

Young!Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader: Face sitting

Remy Lebeau x Virgin! Reader: Praise kink

Young!Erik Lensherr x Fem!Reader: Threesome (Ft. Charles)

Hank McCoy x Fem!Reader: Cunnilingus

Wade Wilson x Reader: Dom/Sub, Lingerie

Piotr Rasputin (Colossus) x Reader: Thigh Riding

Miguel O'Hara x Fem!Reader: Breeding

Tony Stark x Fem!Reader: Infidelity

Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader: Breast worship, titty fucking

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader: Period Sex

Loki x Fem! Reader: Seduction, Body Worship, Collaring

Victor Von Doom (RDJs vers.) x Reader: Corruption

Peter Parker x Reader (Andrew Garfield's vers.): Bondage

Johnny Storm x Reader: Wax play, temperature play

Reed Richards x Reader: Sex Pollen

Jason Todd x Fem!Reader: Mirror Sex

Dick Grayson x Fem!Reader: Shower sex, deep throating

Bruce Wayne x Fem!Reader: bimbofication

Clark Kent x Reader: Breath play, choking

Hal Jordan x Reader: Drunk / anonymous sex

Billy Butcher x Fem!Reader: Brat Taming

Soldier Boy x Fem!Reader: BDSM, Sadism/masochism

Homelander x Reader: Somnophilia (Sleep sex)

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader: Edging, orgasm denial

Javier Peña x Fem!Reader: Lap dances, Rough sex

Jack Reacher (Alan Ritchson's vers.) x Fem! Reader: Size kink, overstimulation, creampie

Old Man! Logan x Fem! Reader: Food play (ft. Whipped Cream)

Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader: Roleplay, Hunter/Prey

[playboysaleen]

Kalopisa. (4)

Kalopisa: (n.) The delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are. 

Parings: Victoria Neuman x Supe!Reader (GN) (Slight AU)

Chapter One - Chapter Two - Chapter Three - Chapter Four

Summary: You never had the best life. Being abducted at a young age, being raised in the most wanted mafia as a weapon, hell- becoming the most feared in the gang. But…Truth is, you only wanted freedom. Being able to wake up and not have to wonder if you were going to see the sunset again. What happens when your wish partially comes true and you are offered your freedom but at what cost? Oh, you’ll see. 

Warnings: Death, Swearing, everything you done seen is the Boyz is what you should expect here.

Word Count: 5.3k (slightly proof read.)

A/n: So I took a small break but I haven't stopped writing cause I actually like letting my imagination expand with this woman lol but like i said in the previous chapter- there is a slight age gap, i know Little Nina and her crew were Russian but i changed it to german and the reader has a french accent(like frenchie). So i made the reader speak kinda in a english/french slang and this fic is slightly AU so bare with me. (If you read this? Muah! thank you.)

____________________________________

She hates to say it but she wants to see this side of you more often. 

After her shower, she placed on the clothes you gave her walking out the bathroom. She planted her feet when she saw your exposed back leaning down grabbing the muscle shirt from the bag. Tossing on the clothing, you sighed softly fixing your necklace to hang loose around your neck facing Victoria. 

“Decided to get tattoos?” She attempted to spark a conversation from noticing your stressed state. You grumbled nodding rubbing the back of your neck, you grabbed one of the chairs from the dining table placing it under the doorknob for extra protection. You turned to face her sighing, 

“Look if you do not want to sleep that is fine. You do not have to force yourself to talk to me.” You said walking towards her leaning down to meet her eyes. She held her breath as you moved your hand under the bed grabbing the weapon that was stashed just beneath her. 

“But I do want to talk to you.” She whispered when you turned your head only inches from her own. The contact never broke but you hummed looking between her eyes whispering, 

“Then yes. I decided to get tattoos to become a person I did not want to be. A killer.” You leaned back up making way to the kitchen placing the firearm on the table. She followed your figure as you walked back to the bed taking a seat at the edge by the headboard. 

“Do you regret them?” You shook your head extending your right arm out, 

“Nina gave me a book when I was younger about these greek gods that have gifts and I read the entire thing more times than I can remember.” You started pointing at the woman that was inked into your skin. 

“Athéna, déesse de la guerre” 

“Goddess of war.” She replied, you nodded- 

“Also wisdom, Nina sent me to kill a man that was stealing weapons from our arms dealer. I remember the look on his face when I found him; scared and amazed. I slaughtered his entire team with my bare hands.” You traced your finger over the wings that wrapped around the woman's head on your forearm turning your arm over but a hand grabbed your wrist. 

“What does this mean?” You sighed softly, tapping the word that ran across your inner wrist. 

“Hiraeth, a longing for a place that you can never return to…or never existed. I always felt that when I was growing up in the underground. No kid wanted to be my friend and everyone was so terrified of me. I wanted to go…home, but I did not have one.” You whispered out as the woman in front of you hummed softly. You tapped the tattoo on your hand chuckling softly, 

“Hermès, messager des dieux.” 

“Messenger of the gods.” You nodded at her translation, 

“I placed that one on my hand cause it is the messenger telling my story, plus it looked nice with my jewelry.” You heard a small laugh from the woman in front of you when you glanced up seeing her now sitting next to you with her thigh touching your crossed knee. Her head was down, lost in the ink on your skin. She pointed at the small word that was on your outer forearm. 

“Lourd?” She whispered as you felt her turn your arm to see the piece it was connected to- 

“Heavy. Aphrodite, la déesse de l'amour.” (the goddess of love) 

“It is a man holding up a heart but is struggling to keep balance from everything that is happening around him. When I was younger I dreamed of having a beautiful house by the beach with my lover and child but as I grew up I knew I would never have that due to…” 

“The heavy heart you carry.” She finished looking at you, you nodded sighing loudly pointing at the three headed dog that covered your entire bicep. 

“Ah my favorite. Hadès, dieu des enfers. Everyone would tell me that this is the best tattoo that speaks of me because I am the god of the underworld with the souls that I take.” 

“But why the three headed dogs?” She asked, placing her finger on the doberman's head tracing softly. Clenching your jaw, you tried your best to stop the twitching in your fingers from the effect she was giving you. 

“Each head represents a different time period: the past, the present, and the future. It has a negative meaning, but I like to think of it as me. Who I was, who I am, and who I will be.” You explained clenching your fist when she placed her entire hand onto your inner bicep. 

“So meaningful, you have so many more.” She slightly gushed, you moved your arm back but her hand never left the position it was in.

“More to tell for another time,” you tried to get her away with how close she was getting but she did not stop. Her breath blew over your cheek when you both stood still noticing her lips were close to your ear. 

“Drink from me.” 

You quickly shuffled out of the bed letting out a bitter laugh, 

“No.” 

“Why not?” She chased after you grabbing your arm facing you towards her. 

“I do not owe you an explanation, I said no.” You grumbled out, shoving your arm away from her walking to the window. You place your hand on the glass, squeezing your eyes shut. You knew what the consequences were if you drank from her. Nina always told you to not leave any trace of survivors or any wounded and if you did? She’d kill you. Shuffling was heard behind you but your breath was caught in your throat when you smelled..

Blood…

You whipped your head around to see Victoria with her hand extended out with the red liquid dripping down her palm. Your eyes darted to the knife that she held in her other hand as she took a step towards you. 

“Tell me why or I will do it again.” You scoffed at her threat but took a step forward when she placed the blade against her wrist. Growling softly, you walked her way placing her against the wall. Her face was almost buried into your chest when you placed your index finger above her chin lifting her gaze into yours. 

“I have never fed on a living being before. I feed to kill and I cannot kill you Victoria.” Whispering, your hand snaked around her waist distracting her from your other hand disarming the knife from her grasp. She placed her palm against her lips sucking the excess blood whispering, 

“I know…” She hung her head low but you brought it back up leaning in. Your noses brushed against each other when you placed your tongue against the corner of her lips slowly licking off the blood that dribbled down her bottom lip. You slightly pulled away but you couldn't seem to move fully, you both stood there listening to the mixed heavy breaths you released. You could see her lips leaning in when a sound of buzzing was heard on the nightstand. You hummed, moving back watching her shoulders drop, 

“Your phone is ringing.” Her head shook out the dirty thoughts, walking to the bed answering the phone. 

“They found Soldier Boy. Butcher also mentioned to Hughie that he has found more intel from Grace about V.” Your eyes slightly widen when Victoria nodded softly, 

“Where is Grace?” Victoria asked, shuffling was heard from the phone when Annie spoke, 

“In a secluded area, I will send you the address but Vicky, you need to make an appearance in your office before any suspects you are gone for some time.” Annie said, you sat down on the floor near Victoria leaning back against the bed,��

“Some time?” Victoria questioned the last two words when you tried your best to understand why as well when a ding was heard from her phone. 

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me. Okay, I will stop by my house in the morning to grab some clothes and we will head down there. Thank you Annie.” The girl on the other side said goodbye as she hung up the phone groaning, 

“I have to make an appearance tomorrow and to let them know I will be out for a few days. We need to stop by my house to grab some clothes if that is okay?” She explained to you when you nodded playing with the gem on your chest. 

“I am your assistant after all Ms.Neuman. Whatever you say goes.” You attempted to joke when you heard her chuckle laying on the bed with her head a foot away from yours. 

“Thank you by the way…” She mumbled out, you turned your head as she continued, 

“For protecting me. You could have easily ratted me out about my powers but you didn’t. So thank you.” You nodded, turning your attention back to your necklace. 

“Now get some rest, we have things to do in the morning.” You said leaning your head back watching her eyes flutter close. You stayed that way for a few minutes. How can a woman who looks like that be the most dangerous being you’ve known, but why did you feel so connected with her? Well yeah, you should when you pretty much killed for the sake of your living but you had no choice. You had nowhere to go, no one to turn to. Frenchie decided to part ways with Nina when Butcher offered him a ‘better’ life, meaning, he didn’t have to continue to kill people that ended on Nina's bad side. You on the other hand, you were her top soldier. ‘My own child’ is what she called you. She claimed you as her own but deep down you knew she wasn’t your mother. She was your boss. She was a monster. 

She made you into a monster. You felt no remorse for every soul you took but you just couldn’t sink your fangs into the woman that rested next to you. The moment you saw her, the beating of her heart was a sound you replayed in your head to remind you that you are in fact still human. She haunted your mind after that night, but you thought to yourself…were you in hers? You’d unconsciously searched for her when the whiff of her perfume engulfed your senses but as the years went by it all turned into hate. You surrendered to your insecurities- look at you. You can’t go a few days without taking a life, and what makes it worse- you need to feel the rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins the second the blood of your victim touches your taste buds or you won't be satisfied and you're off sinking your fangs into another. She is truly better off without you. 

Your eyes slowly fluttered open when the smell of eggs soared through the loft, you fell asleep. Blinking the sleep away, you turned your head to see Victoria sliding the egg off the frying pan into the plate when her eyes caught your low ones. 

“I didn’t want to wake you but I was hungry and I didn’t know if you wanted one- but then I thought did you even eat real food- do you eat real food? I made another one just in case but if you don’t want it that is fine- I just assumed-” You lifted your hand sending her the tiniest smile as you stood from the floor stretching, 

“Thank you.” How thoughtful. She nodded, grabbing her plate walking toward you as she took a seat onto the bed. You walked to the dinning table grabbing the gun chuckling softly, Victoria covered her mouth after she took a bite speaking- 

“What’s got you giggling?” You scoffed mumbling, 

“I’m not giggling- whatever- I was just thinking about the time I first met that connard” You spoke taking a seat on the chair pulling the top of the gun starting your disassembly. 

“I was ordered to meet him at this fish market and I walked in there with this big kid ego when he sent one right here-” You tapped your temple chuckling softly, “The way that man's face drained when I stood back up flicking the bullet off my fingers was something I will always remember.” You leaned back once the gun was now fully taken apart, 

“I killed his brother that day for attempting to rat me out to the FBSA.” Yeah you turned it dark, it was the truth. You used him as leverage when you heard the voice on his phone asking for the location, grabbing him by the throat you asked the man if they really wanted to be affiliated with the underground and when the man said yes? You dug your nails into his throat yanking his esophagus out. 

“Mr. Jean, was his name.” huffing out, you stood from the table grabbing the jacket that laid on the table placing it on. 

“Alright enough memory lane, come on.” Victoria left her plate on the bed as she quickly rushed to place her jacket when you were already removing the chair from the doorknob. 

“Jesus, can you let me put on my shoes-” She scoffed when you were already one foot out the door- You walked down stairs when you were greeted by a familiar face. 

“Oh my god Midnight! I haven’t seen you in foreverrrrr” The woman in front of you gushes running her hand down your chest laying it flat against your stomach. A nervous chuckle was heard from you when your fingers wrapped around the girl's wrist stopping her from grabbing your waistband. 

“Maria, it has been a while.” You mumbled, she beamed with happiness and started talking about how she missed the nights you two spent- a hand was placed on your back when you turned your head to see victoria smiling her way at the girl in front of you who now held a small frown. 

“Oh…so you've been having your fun sucking on someone else huh?” She sassed, you rolled your eyes grabbing Victoria by the wrist walking past the girl. 

“Don’t start your shit Maria.” you spoke out pinching the bridge of your nose with your freehand. You did not want to hear her bullshit right now. Victoria saw your reaction when she turned, sending the girl a quick glance. 

“Shit. Not the allergies!” She laughed out wiping the blood from her nose when you swiped the bottle of vodka that sat on the bar taking a swig. You needed something to wash down the words you wanted to say but you knew it would end in you ripping her head from her shoulders since you found out what she did. Hissing at the sting, you tossed it into the trash opening the door for Victoria as she walked out. You walked behind her, sighing softly. 

“I did not drink from her.” You defended when she scoffed adjusting her coat, 

“I know you didn’t. Why are you so quick to admit that?” You shook your head she casually asked you. Huh, why were you so quick to defend that. She grabbed the door hand when you heard the doors hinges creak a little louder than they should. You hopped in the driver's seat when you flinched at the loud slam. 

“Why are you mad?” She shook her head, 

“I’m not mad, what makes you think I am mad? Why? Are you mad?” Her voice seemed very petty when you rolled your eyes starting the car, 

“I am not mad, but I know that as of right now the club is painted with Marias insides.” Silence was the answer you needed to know that you won this little argument. You heard the splatter of Marias imploded body hit the wall once the door closed. You drove out the parking lot heading towards Victoria's destination. 

“She knew who I was.” She tried to reason but you shook your head raising your hand letting the rest of her excuse die in her throat. 

“It’s fine, she was sleeping with my rival; the spiders. You did me a favor.” She nodded but you couldn’t see the small smile that crept to her face. A rush of warmth swarmed around in her stomach at the thought of you feeling satisfied with what she had done. She killed a woman and you practically thanked her for it, horrible favor to be done but what could go wrong. 

Half an hour passed when you parked the car in front of a nice cozy home. You could smell the pumpkin spice that filled the house once you stepped out of the vehicle. Victoria fixed her coat by placing a hand on her forehead. She was nervous, for what? You followed behind her up the stairs when a hand grabbed a fist full of your jacket shoving your face against the wall. 

“Dammit Mike! They’re with me.” Victoria hissed at the man who had his hand against your head pushing you as much as he could. 

“What’s your name and relationship to the vice president?” Growling into your ear, you tried to shuffle, setting your leg straight when he sent his boot into the back of your knee causing a grunt to fall out of your mouth; kneeling. Victoria tried to shove him off but you remained silent as he attempted to remove his gun from his holster. 

“V. I was hired by her personally to be her assistant.” you grit out grinding your teeth to suppress your fangs that were pressing against your gums. He howled out a laugh letting you go but not without giving you a very rough push sending you to faceplant the ground. 

“An assistant? You need a bodyguard at least.” He towered over Victoria face inches from her when you stood to your feet grabbing his arm spinning him to face you. Twisting his arm back, you tucked your foot behind his, sending him on his back. You brushed off the dust from your jacket, sighing softly. 

“I qualified for both Mr.Mike.” What made the man's face turn red in anger is when he saw your neutral expression. You weren’t phazed, you were just not in the mood to argue with a man. He scrambled to his feet meeting your height when your lips twitched into a small smile as you patted his chest cleaning the leaves that were clung onto his vest. 

“Now if you will excuse me, I have a woman to attend to.” You took a step back following behind Victoria once the rest of her agents were now on the scene. Victoria took a step up the staircase placing her hand on your chest. 

“Zoe is upstairs packing to go to her fathers. Just…don’t expose yourself.” She pleaded when you nodded as she turned to walk up the stairs. You followed suit when a girl that resembled her stood in front of you with her head slightly tilting. 

“You’re V.” She whispered when all you could do was nod glancing at her mother every few seconds. 

“Zoe, this is V. V- Zoe.” You extended your hand as she went to wrap her arms around you causing your body to stiff. 

“You are the person my mom dreams about.” She smiled, grabbing your hand, shaking lightly. Your eyes almost bulged out your head when you saw Victoria clasped her hand over her mouth. 

“Zoe, what did Doctor Graham say about safety?” Victoria scolded when her daughter huffed quotating with her fingers. 

“Never tell anyone about your powers.” 

Snapping your head to her mother, you shook your head hissing, 

“You were impregnated by a Supe?” She shook her head motioning Zoe to her room grabbing your arm moving you down to her room. You paced back and forth rubbing your temples when she closed her bedroom door, 

“I didn’t fuck a supe, would you calm down? Looks like your heads about to-” 

“What? Explode? Well mon amour, I am about two minutes away from it.” You growled out taking a seat on her bed taking a deep breath. “Explain.” 

“I met someone when I was younger and I was dumb in love-” You waved your hand viciously shaking your head, 

“I don’t care about the love story or foreplay. Was he a Supe or not?” She shook her head, kneeling in front of you. 

“No. He is human.” She responded with her hands on your knees. Looking between her eyes you heard her heart race but once you pieced everything together you stood to your feet moving away from her. She didn’t hesitate to tell you and the way she was between your legs made your head buzz. You shook your head huffing, 

“So you've been dreaming of me?” you wanted to steer away from the thoughts of Nina torturing you when you were younger and the conversation about Zoe was triggering, 

“Every now and then.” She answered walking to her closet grabbing her duffle bag, placing clothing inside. You narrowed your eyes on her pulse point that was visible once her hair fell to the side. 

“You’re lying.” Her heart skipped a beat when you took a step back, 

“You invaded my mind for the first few years, it was more of you killing everyone I loved till Zoe came along and there was this…change in you where you were this person who brought me…” She trailed off shaking her head zipping up the duffle bag grabbing the out she had laid out walking to the bathroom shutting it behind her. Groaning, you walked out her room into the hallway seeing Zoe peeking from her room. 

“Mom always said the person in her dream was her knight in shining armor.” You sent her a small smile taking a few steps towards her when she opened the door wider letting you in. Your eyes roamed her room taking in the colors when you kept your smile plastered on. It was the room you pretty much imagined yourself in when you were a child. Zoe took a seat on her beanbag patting the floor in front of her.  You sat on the colorful carpet bringing your knees to your chest, 

“She said that she was trapped in a tower surrounded by monsters and that they captured me too. She said that one night during a thunderstorm all the monsters were slayed and it was her knight who saved her and me.” She explained as she leaned back. Her smile faltered when her eyes locked onto yours. 

“As I got older, I could see her dreams at night. I could hear the voice in her head. I could see…you.” You nodded when she placed a hand on your shoulder and everything around you blurred. Laughter was heard behind you when you turned your head to see Victoria and Zoe on her bed reading some sort of book. 

‘Alright, time for bed you two.’ 

You saw yourself smiling at them. The smile held…love. You chuckled, turning your full attention their way watching the sight before you. 

‘Awe what a party pooper you are.’ Victoria pouted as you scoffed laughing softly. You whistled a tune inching your way to them, Zoe let out a shriek when you dove onto the bed digging your fingers into Zoe’s sides. 

‘Oh! I will show you this party pooper!’ You sang out running your hands up the girls side poking her neck crease causing her to laugh harder. A chuckle was heard next to you when you turned your head meeting Victoria’s eyes with your brows furrowed. You let Zoe go smirking at her mother. 

‘Oh you want to laugh too?’ Diving towards Victoria you tickled her as Zoe joined in. 

You saw the scene in front of you begin to fade when you felt Zoe’s hand give you a light squeeze. 

“She had that dream a few nights ago.” She said after a few beats of silence. “That is how she sees you and I can see that is how you want to see her.” You were quick to scramble to your feet nodding, 

“Okay, no need to read my thoughts.” You breathed out, she shrugged her shoulders glancing at the doorway. 

“The night before she dreamed of Homelander killing us and what scares me about that dream…” She whispered, taking a step towards you, grabbing your hand. You looked into her eyes when you felt your stomach turn. “...you weren’t there to save us.” 

“Ready to go?” Victoria’s head popped into the room when you closed your mouth nodding as you turned. Zoe kept her hand in yours and her mother saw it. Clearing your throat, you let Zoe follow her out when you followed behind. You stopped the staircase when that bastard from earlier was waiting by the door sending you a glare. 

“Mike. Please escort Zoe with Chavez to her fathers. I will be heading to the office.” He nodded, grabbing Zoe’s bag walking out to the car that was waiting to depart. You took the duffle bag from Victoria, 

“Assistant shit.” You whispered, Victoria scoffed but a smile spread across her face. You placed her items in the backseat walking to her side where she was giving Zoe a hug. She went over a few things with the man that stood by the passenger door when you heard a whisper from the man across from you. 

“Verräter” (traitor)

Looking his way, he held the most tiniest smirk when you took a step forward, 

“Je vois que tu es coincé avec des armes” (I see you stuck with guns.) You said, he clenched his jaw chuckling, 

“Nina wird ihren Spaß mit dir haben, wenn sie hört, dass du lebst” (Nina will have her fun with you when she hears you’re alive) You grabbed a fist full of his shirt dragging him to the back of your designated vehicle. 

“SPEAK!” You shouted, Victoria ran to you when you lifted your hand up. Her guards pointed their guns your way, she ordered them to stand down as you shoved him roughly into the SUV. He smiled, 

“Den Untergrund kann man nicht töten. Wir sind wie Kakerlaken. Wir rennen, kommen aber immer wieder zurück.”(You can’t kill the Underground. We are like cockroaches, we run but always come back.) 

No. Nononono… Nina is aliv- 

“He is underground.” You spoke up, Victoria’s eyes widened signaling her men to grab him. He reached from his firearm when you were quicker to grab the top of his hand. Yanking aggressively, your finger moved to click the clip letting it drop into your freehand, piercing it into his abdomen. He hunched over when his head leaned onto your shoulder, 

“Si tu entends ça, approche-toi de moi ou des garçons... je te tuerai.” (If you’re hearing this, come near me or the boys…I’ll kill you.) You gritted into his ear piece shoving him back into the SUV. Taking a few steps away, the guards grabbed the man dragging him off the premises. You marched to the car hopping in, pressing your forehead against the steering wheel. 

“What did he say V?” You shook your head not wanting to drag her into this but you sighed running your hand down your face. Nina can’t be alive. Her office was blown to bits with you and Dani only feet away from her door. Well, everyone has said before that she is the devil herself and she can’t die. 

“Nina is alive.” 

Silence coursed through the car when you continued to drive to the destination that displayed on the GPS. She knew you didn’t want to talk about when she could see the death grip you had on the wheel as you drove through the back roads, so she kept her eyes on the passing trees, letting the scenery distract her from wanting to help you. 

“Who is Grace?” After an hour of silence, you finally asked once your anger subsided. 

“An acquaintance that works for the CIA.” You snapped your head back, she lifted her hand- “It’s okay, she knows you’re on the way.” turning back around, the GPS read you were only a few minutes from the destination. Nodding, you adjusted your grip on the wheel using your free hand to fix your necklace. 

“What’s with the necklace?” Victoria asked, leaning forward placing her chin on the shoulder of the passenger seat. Closing your fist around the gem, you shook your head. 

“I don’t know, it has always been around my neck since I could remember.” You tried finding the memory deep in your fucked up head- trust…but after all these years, you can’t remember. One memory you can remember is during your week ‘trial’ with Red River was the moment you were pushed to your limit. No, it wasn’t them ‘starving’ you to death but it was the guards being so understanding. Giving you water, food, and even a room with a window (of course it was barred) to see the sunlight. You remember a woman walking in with a few guards but the questions she asked were giving you a headache due to the fact you couldn’t remember. 

‘Do you know why the gem was given to you by your parents?’ 

You panicked. The red that painted your vision was not the only thing your eyes could see, but the blood of the guards that splattered across the room. The woman was rushed out of the room right before you could reach her but that only fueled you more. You had the chance to escape but the look on the woman's face sent you into this frozen state letting the rest of their team sedate you. You could of fucking ran. You could of left that fucking place but you didn’t. You were a monster and you didn’t want to be. You thought maybe them doing this could help you find your sanity but telling Victoria all this wouldn’t help you. It’ll only drag you back deeper into this hole you’ve dug. 

It’s been a few minutes since you arrived at the destination displaying a secluded house ran by more guards than you could count. Grabbing the blazer from the passenger seat, you exited the vehicle following Victoria to the front of the house. You adjusted the clothing when fear shot through your nose causing you to look up. 

“It’s been a long time Y/n.”

Your eyes widen at the woman standing on the porch before you. Shaking your head, your hand clutched your chest. 

“It was you.” You whispered, denial settled in your bones. How could it be? This Grace was the woman from the Red River trail. She wasn’t…Red River- 

“I know there is a lot to unpack here, so take a breather okay?” Grace took a few cautious steps down keeping a few feet away from you. You kept shaking your head when Victoria's eyes widened seeing the tears that brimmed your own. 

“No, I- I was little. I didn’t mean to kill those men.” Choking on the words that were struggling to escape your mouth. The woman next to you stood frozen at the vulnerability you exposed when her heart acted before her brain wrapping her arms around you. Her scent engulfed your nose sending your face to plant into her chest. Find a point. Find a point. Find a point- The drumming of her heart made your cries die in your throat. Sniffling, you stayed there. At that moment, you felt…safe.

“I know you didn’t mean too. It was not your fault on what Nina turned you into. You had no other route to learn.” Grace whispered inching towards you, Victoria placed her hand on the back of your head slightly scratching your scalp but she kept her eyes on the woman speaking. 

“Let me help you understand.” 

_______________________________

A/N: So, the tattoos and the meaning behind them are actually mine. I have a sleeve of greek gods and goddess which I am in love with (Currently about to get an Apollo piece done on my chest). Thought it would be cool adding it to the story. (I was gonna add pics for reference but I'm shy lmfao)