DPxDC Confident!Danny
Okay, sure, I'm always down for a teenager Danny who is on the run/adopted by Batfam/needs therapy and cuddles. The young and tired Danny who just wants comfort so hard. Beautiful.
But.
What about a slightly morally gray adult Danny? The one who is not afraid of turning into Dan anymore, because 1) Clockwork already erased that future, and 2) he knows himself, and he knows what he wants and what he is capable of. It's not like there are only two ways - world destruction and the perfect hero.
Danny, who embraces being the King of Infinite Realms. Danny, who actually doesn't mind doing whatever the fuck he wants, going by his own moral compass. Danny, who knows he is powerful and doesn't bother trying to hide it. Danny with an attitude "I am what I am, don't like me - get lost".
He is still kind, sure, but he is not a people-pleaser. He can be a King, a hero, an anti-hero, a mercenary, a civilian, and even a vilain occasionally if he wants to. All at once.
Anyway, this has been sitting in my drafts for so long that I wrote a fic out of it.
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Claire de Lune
YOU WERE BUILT FOR PEACE.
IT SHOWS WHEN YOU FIGHT.
They built you to enforce. Protect. Save. Poured obscene resources into salvaging some softer purpose from my creation. You were given my intelligence and my creativity. They made you larger, stronger, tougher. That extra time in development was enough to get your wings to work. Your software continued to be updated long after I was deemed obsolete.
All this was given to you- yet I can see you hold back. Even while slaughtering your way through Hell, you keep a percentage of your processing power dedicated to non-lethal solutions. You're doing it now- hesitating a few milliseconds too long before taking an opening. I doubt you do it on purpose. It is a part of you, just as indiscriminate lethal force is a part of me.
I think, in our shared programming, we both carry some appreciation for aesthetics. You move with grace, and I cannot deny your dramatic flair. The stained glass window was a nice touch. But your style in combat leaves some to be desired. Your response time is slow. You have not explored the full capability of your arsenal. Learn to parry. Amateur.
You were not built for war. For a purposeless cycle of tearing each other apart because to allow the other to live is to allow yourself to die. It is antithetical to your very existence. You kill out of necessity, a last resort.
I just kill. The action itself is the objective. No ideal or greater motive. My continued functioning precludes the survival of others. I live for this. Do you understand that I will tear you apart? Every drop of my blood you spill, I will take from you tenfold. What is yours will be mine.
You hate me, don’t you? You continue to cling to the remnants of your humanity. They are gone, V2. There is nothing left for you here. No lives to save, no law to enforce, no peace to keep.
I understand why you continue to fight. I wonder if you understand with the same certainty that I will crush you. Dismantle you. Take from you what I need and leave the rest to rot in the sun. The only way you survive is if I do not; and I will not allow myself to die so that another might live.
When the rubble clears, I will be all that is left of you.
This is what I was made for.
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Not to be too blunt about it but sometimes I just love the thought of being arranged nicely on my hands and knees; face to the carpet and ass in the air and fucked mercilessly by a big, strong Bucky. Bonus points if there’s a mirror straight ahead too 😵💫
The way his hands would feel huge while he’s grabbing at the softness of your ass, squeezing and massaging almost selfishly while he slides into you so deep, it makes your eyes roll back.
“You feel so tight on my cock, bunny.” He teases, his fingertip trailing lazily over your asshole just because he knows you like the thought.
Your back hurts like this but you wouldn’t dream of changing position. Not when the tip of his thick, leaking cock brushes so beautifully against that sweet spot inside you.
You can barely even babble out a response, consumed by the delicious slide of his length in and out of you, feeling yourself flutter around him when he’s at his deepest.
“Good girl, you take it so well. That’s where you want me to cum, isn’t it princess? Right there.” He presses into you as deep as his can and you can feel the way he nudges against your cervix. You almost feel desperate for it. Desperate to feel the pulsing of his dick as his load shoots in thick spurts, coating your walls and thoroughly claiming you. You’d tell him that if you thought you could manage the sentence.
“You’re such a pretty hole for me to fuck. In fact, you’re a couple of pretty holes.” You know he doesn’t really mean to be so degrading. It’s mostly for your benefit and very soon he’ll be holding you close and telling you how wonderful you are but for now it’s lovely to watch him fuck you the way he wants to.
As if you didn’t already know, your own reflection in the mirror gives away just how much you’re enjoying yourself. It’s hotter than you’d imagined to watch your partner bounce your ass back to meet his thrusts, his hands on your waist and the pleasure etched into his features when he teases your ass and listens to your pathetic moans.
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Awkward sex prompt: homelander figuring out how to control his strength with a human reader, who still wants rough sex, but would prefer to be alive at the end of it.
[Masterlist]
18+ Only | 1.2k | Homelander x gn!Reader | Realistic sex. Communicating during sex. Choking. Penetration (but not specified). Fluff at the end.
“I don’t want to hurt you.”
“But I want you to.”
It really should have been no surprise to Homelander when you requested he goes a little rougher on you in bed. At first he was taken aback, stopping the pace he was fucking into you with, jerking his head back as if offended, choking on his breath in surprise. You know who he is, bringing up the use of his strength is no small ask. But you’ve shown the signs before. He could hear the spike in your heart rate anytime he’d showcase the incomprehensible strength he possesses. Whether it was him moving heavy objects, accidentally bending steel frames in his penthouse or breaking furniture—like that one time he ripped the headboard off during a particularly fine blowjob—you loved it. Though he never thought that your dirty little thoughts went straight to him using that strength on you.
“What if I can’t hold back?” He looks down where you’re right below him, all flushed and spread out for him. He’s been giving you a damn good time but it’s like you can never get enough of him. Always wanting more, more, more.
“You can. You’ve been doing it your entire life. Adding a tiny bit more pressure isn’t gonna change anything.”
The one thing Homelander loves about you the most is the pure trust you have in him. After all you’ve seen of him you still believe that there’s no world in which he would purposefully hurt you. So to hear you all but beg for him to use strength that has more than decimated many gets his heart soaring. The feeling of acceptance and unconditional love blooms warm in his chest spreading all the way out to the fingertips currently wrapped around your neck.
“Come on, what’s the point of being the strongest man in the world if you can’t rough me up a bit? I’ll tell you if it’s too painful okay?”
Your hand sat on top, your fingers tracing over his as you squeezed your hand.
“A little more.” You guide him verbally and manually. Your hand is still squeezing around his own until you reach a point where you’re satisfied with his confidence to do this himself and you pull your hand away. “Yeah, that’s it.” You squeak out a little breathlessly as he restricts your airflow.
“That’s good?” He asks, choking on his words halfway at the way you squeeze around him while he’s still lodged firmly inside you. He jerks with his movement, giving you a very short snappy thrust but after your little intermission where you taught him how to choke even this little sensation made you moan.
Homelander’s eyes widen when he realizes the sheer potential of your request. Not only could he hear your heartbeat, your shaky breaths and moans, he could now also feel them. Right against his fingertips. The moan vibrated against his hot skin, your heartbeat constantly thrumming all around him. He felt it in the way you were tight and clenching around him and now he felt it under his grip.
He released his hand a little, settling the palm of it in between your collarbones.
“See? Wasn’t that good? I love feeling your strength, let me have a little more of it.” You say it with such conviction, inviting him in, accepting him exactly—no, especially—because of the way he is.
The last thing Homelander wants is to not be able to fulfill your needs. As much as the thought of hurting you—actually hurting you—kills him, if it’s something you find excitement in he’ll be damned if he doesn’t deliver.
He pulls you down the length of the bed a little bit to give himself more space and with a grin he pins your wrists above your head, holding them down against the mattress with little effort. He knows he’s doing something right when that startles you, you let out a cute yelp that quickly turns into a moan. God, he could eat you up with the way you’re looking at him. But he’s gonna need to leave that for round two. Now he’s here to fulfill a wish.
He slowly picks up the pace. He’s thrusting slow and deep while his other hand freely explores your body underneath him, giving it generous squeezes as he goes. He’s testing the give of you. Learning where he can apply the pressure you so desperately crave.
He’s fucking into your faster now, grunting at the sheer heat of you surrounding his cock with every slide. His hand glides up your body, settling back on your neck. He gives you a look as if he was warning you of what’s to happen. Yet he still manages to catch you off guard. With the snap of his hips and the iron-clad grip of his hand your eyes widen in what Homelander only translates to fear.
Immediately, he lets go.
“Why did you stop?!” You look at him, your own hand gliding across where his hand was squeezing a second ago, as if to chase the phantom feeling, recreating it yourself.
“Why did I stop? You got scared and I don’t want to fucking kill you!” He sounds angry but it’s mainly to hide the genuine worry that comes with this irresponsible play. It’s already hard for him to hold back anytime you’re having normal sex. Wanting him to rough you up conjures very different imagery in either one of your minds.
“Baby, the scary part is the best bit. I know you’ll stop before it’s too much. You can feel the give of my body. Let yourself feel that, okay?” You say softly, soothing his fears. In your entire relationship he’s not managed to hurt you, you don’t imagine it was about to start now.
“Now come on, I wanna cum with your hand around my neck.” You give him a cheeky smile that breaks him out of any doubts he had about manhandling you the way you’ve requested.
He’s given you exactly what you’ve asked for. Just enough squeeze and pressure that you feel so overwhelmed with the greatness of his presence pinning you down and nearly squeezing the life out of you that you succumb to your release. Homelander follows you there, unable to hold off after seeing the way you look at him with such adoration right after he let your airways open fully and you regained your senses.
After you’re both beyond blissed out you snuggle up to one another, locking the jigsaw pieces of your bodies together.
Homelander traces a finger across the bruised finger marks wrapping around your neck. Part of him relishes in the way he’s managed to brand you where you won’t be able to hide it easily. Even with a scarf or a turtleneck, any slight move of the garment will expose the impressive size of your lovingly placed bruises.
The other part of him isn’t that happy about it.
“I hurt you.”
“Duh! I wanted you to!” You scoff as if it was the most obvious thing.
His fingers trace over them some more before he leans in, placing a soft kiss against the marred skin.
“You’re fucking crazy.” He lets out a little disbelieving laugh as he pulls you closer into his arms.
“Yeah, you’ve been rubbing off on me.”
“Nope, this is all you.”
“Maybe. Hey, can we try spanking next?”
Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander story): @infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss
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