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kaela-mk · 10 months

Note

omg like a nsfw homelander one shot where he fucks like f!reader he actually knows well and genuinely likes and the reader actually likes him back??? (all these homelander stories have only him hate fucking them :(( makes me sad) THANK YOU LOVE YOU 💕💕💕

MOON SONG || NSFW Homelander one-shot

You know the killer doesn’t understand.

Warnings: none? Except more internal monologue than actual sex my bad guys 😔 also idk how his outfit actually works so bare with me

AFAB! Reader

__________________________________________

He hates this. You. You looking so pretty that it doesn’t feel right. The warmth in his stomach, like he can be killed.

But you look so nice - and it’s all for him. John knows this. He feels like he’s being punished. Why? He’s done everything right? He deserves more.

You turn, smiling small, tears glittering. You always look so small next to him, most people do - but it’s natural for you. To be something John can hide and hover. He takes you by the waist, squeezing and squeezing until you push into his hips - all needy, as you should be.

You’re here every Wednesday, you’ve been here every Wednesday since last Summer. The first Wednesday, you were like everyone else. That in itself makes John’s eyes roll. You became some assistant to somebody in some compartment and on and on and on. You really were like everyone else, and if you weren’t so…nice, you would’ve stayed that way.

Then, one day, you try to make conversation with him. The nerve, it’s almost admirable. He’s waiting to go on some show and you’re trying to kill time - but in reality, you’re trying to kill him. Honestly, but then John pushes you away as is right, because why would he talk to some low-life assistant to pass the time?

But you just laugh at his tight tone, all light and gentle with a smile that makes John feel like he’s been burning forever - he almost coughs.

You’re a pusher, he can tell. So, okay - he’ll bite.

Suddenly it’s a game to get you to crack, to make you like everyone else so you can just leave him alone. For you to either be some heiny-fucks that’ll praise him to death or to be one of those heiny-fucks that think they’re better than him. But no, you’re friendly. Why? He doesn’t fucking know.

Suddenly, you won’t leave him alone, even when you’re not there - cause suddenly John is thinking of ways he can see you - and as the months go on, he’s thinking of ways to make you happy.

It’s a really weird feeling that pushes on his lungs. John will see you and feel a sick, warming hand on his chest. He can admit, eventually - that he wants to see you. Regrettably. Gross, right?

It’s not regret that comes when he can get you to laugh, to press your hand on his shoulder. He doesn’t know what comes and goes anymore. But you’ve come, and you’re not going anywhere. After everything you’ve done to get him like this? He deserves more than that.

You tell him that you might be assigned to another company, and John laughs in your face. It’s mean and sharp, uncharacteristic for your relationship with him.

Why do you think you can go?

Neither of you know how the conversation ended up with his hand almost crushing your jaw, but you just brush his cheek. You realize in that moment, he’s only ever known how to get his way doing one thing. It usually ends in blood, him always wanting more. So you just brush his cheek and smile with a light sigh.

“You’re not going to hurt me, and I’m not going anywhere - not when I’ve got my best friend right here.”

John laughs, disbelief and anger settling. He could crush your hand in that moment, so small and fragile that he would love breaking you.

But you smile, and he knows he actually wouldn’t. That’s the only thing that gets him angry.

Your touch is so sweet that John leans into the soft palm of your hand, wanting. It’s you that needs this, reassurance - not him. You place a kiss on his neck, and there goes the night.

And every Wednesday, everyday after that night, he thinks about you - how he can’t hurt you. And if he can’t hurt you, then no one can.

Your smile and the way you hold yourself. How you laugh and have shit taste in music. How you can poke and push at him. How people wonder how your head hasn’t blown off yet.

Seriously, people see you play fight with the Homelander, playfully insulting him and prodding and you aren’t a bag of guts and bone. How? How John doesn’t even punish you when you two are alone together, ridiculous really.

You call him John so sweetly that he should feel sick, but he feels something even worse - he feels like a man. Only a man. He smiles like it’s instinct and he almost fucking begs to say it again.

There you go, making a mess out of him.

There’s a mess on the company floor. It’s red and smells like copper and meat. It’s some man who tried hitting on you, some fucking suit. But it’s okay, cause John was there to save you.

He takes you up to his apartment and you’re still crying. He doesn’t understand why. It would be annoying in any other moment, but it’s the way you sniffle that makes John crack. He doesn’t like you like this. Where’s the smile? Where’s you?

He doesn’t understand, and you don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.

But he knows how to make you feel better. He plays copycat - because you always know how to make him feel better, don’t you? It’s what you do best.

He’s so fucking whipped that he can’t see you’re scared. But hey, maybe you’re not. Because he places the sweetest kiss on your neck, and you don’t have to wonder why this is what ruined him in the place.

The kisses make there way up, warming your jaw, his gloved hands go to caress your chin, but then John remembers how you said you didn’t like the feeling of them. So they slip off, end up on the table. It’s his hands holding your face, you lean in every which way.

His tongue slips into your mouth, teeth cold and you’re so warm and small that somewhere else he would want to break you. Crack all the pretty parts of you. Fuck, he really doesn’t get it.

He wants you safe, healthy. Here. You have no reason to go anywhere anymore. Not when he’s become so nice.

Your hips buck into him and John loves it - the need. He needs it, he needs more. You moan so slightly against his mouth and it’s like every other night, except this time, he’s taking care of you.

His hands clutch your shoulders, keeping you in place as his lips keep pressing into yours. You hum, approving. The buzz against his chin and your hands go to undo his belt.

A tear falls, and John licks it away. Salt and your spit and your perfectly fragile hands around his cock. He places you sprawled across the table, knees apart and up. You tearful, but smiling. There’s his girl.

Your hands are still on his dick, moving in a gentle rhythm and pleasure shoots through John. How could you want anything more than this? How could anyone thing you could want more than him?

He pushes your underwear to the side, your pretty pussy already so wet for him. He slides his middle and ring finger up and down, hand glistening with you. It’s so fucking beautiful.

He’s never wanted to make someone feel better, but when you’re mewling with small, quick breaths - how could he be made for anything else? Fucking ridiculous.

His fingers slip into you so easily that John wants to laugh, but his ears only here your slight moans. You continue to jerk off his dick as best you can, in your fragile, perfect state. He fingers you, you’re so tight - you clench and John knows you were made for him.

“It’s okay, pretty girl. You’ve been doing so good, haven’t you?”

You nod carelessly, already so drunk - from his fingers alone. Your thumbs slide over his slit and John almost jolts.

He wants to make you feel better, but how can he help himself? Your fault, really.

He lowers close, his nose to yours. You’ve got your eyes closed and John hates it, as pretty and needy as you look. He wants you to see when he takes you. He’ll be so good that you’ll have to stay forever.

“Open your eyes.”

You do, cause you know not to deny him, and even if you didn’t - it’s routine at this point.

He lowers into you, thrusting slowly as you moan so lightly. You’re always so tight that one day, John will want to break you. Not today, though. Not when you’ve been so good for him.

John continues to thrust as you clench around his cock, you grab onto his biceps for a good hold and he praises you, because good girl - using what you need. Using him.

Your fingers try digging into his skin - and what would be pain makes him fuzzy and John snakes his arms around your back, pulling up to sit on him.

Your chest is to his as you try to bounce as you’ve done before - but John holds you still. You don’t need to do anything. He thrusts up into you, the bulge of himself moving through you so quick but so…close. You moan and you’ve got your arms around his shoulders. You curl into him, as you should. There’s nowhere else to be.

“I’ll do anything for you.” John says it with a low breath, because he would.

And he will. You know he will, he’s going to. You don’t plan on stopping him.

You pull on his hair, hands moving through the back of his scalp as you become the perfect cock sleeve. Your hands are so warm that John thrusts even harder because it’s the nerves. You squeak, almost.

God, there isn’t one - but he’ll keep you forever.

Your entire body jerks and twitch as your hold tightens - you breath so weakly, but quick that you’ve came on him. John feels you twitch against him and on his cock. The heat of your tight cunt molding into him. He thrusts again, he can’t help himself.

Your hands make their way to the top of his chest, knuckles making small fists right below his neck, the top of your head on his jaw.

This picture is so perfect. John cums, he feels it up against the hilt. He thrusts again, just to make sure his cum stays where it’s supposed to be.

He leaves a long kiss on your hair.

“I’ll do anything you want me to, too.” You whisper. You’re still on his dick.

Then a thought occurs, something John deserves.

“If I keep you like this?”

You wiggle and John’s cock twitches inside you. He can hear your heartbeat, so little and quick and he can feel you smile against his chest. He returns it.

Look what you do to him.

“You like that idea, don’t you?”

You don’t nod or whisper a small yes, you just press your face into him. That’s a good enough answer for John.

But no wasn’t an a option, it never was. That’s okay for you. When you’ve got him like this? He’ll never hurt you. Even with the blood still splattered on you, it’ll never be yours.

And John will never let you go anywhere. After this? He’ll never understand why you would want to leave - not after what he’s done for you, not after all he’ll do for you.

He’ll never understand that is exactly what makes him a monster, a killer.

You twitch against his cock, and he can feel himself harden again. Needy thing, aren’t you?

You push yourself up on him, sliding down with a pretty breath against his chest.

Well, even if he did? John wouldn’t fucking care.

And neither would you.

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kaela-mk · 10 months

Note

just imagine how angry homelander would get if people asked his girl about her sex life with him..

Best Things - NSFW

———————————————————————

It would be hellfire.

I feel like John was super prideful about showing you off to the world in the earlier times when you two first went public - but then he realizes he has to share. I can imagine the idea of you two going public was actually his idea, something you were just hesitant on as a nonsupe and he just got so petty and suspicious because that definitely instilled a hot insecurity that you’re ashamed of him.

So, of course, you two go public and it’s heaven. He gets to be so proud of his pretty little girl while everyone sees the love you have for him and only him. It’s interviews and magazines covers and it’s great for the supe because everybody knows who you belong to and that there is proof that he’s fucking loved.

Of course, until people start loving you - and getting too fucking personal.

Suddenly your boy is huffing with arms crossed as you sign autographs and laugh and smile your fucking teeth at all these cocksuckers. And honestly, he thinks you’re doing way too much for the fans, almost like you need their love more than his. Like the love he has for you isn’t enough or something.

John doesn’t know it, but it makes him pout. If there isn’t pure red, he’s probably pouting, waiting for you to prove him wrong - even though he’s never wrong. But he’ll still lean into your kisses.

The last fucking straw for the guy, though, is a question.

His little girl always gets dumbass questions from dumbass lowlives. It’ll never not want to make John pop someone’s eyes out, but restrains himself because he’s that good of a boyfriend.

But he’s all the way on the other side of the street of fans while you’re off all smiley on the other side. Of course, though, the shrill voice of a fan to you catches his ear.

“So, how’s the sex life with an actual superhero?”

John hears snickering and his sweet girl with stutters. He hears his own heart picking up and he can’t fucking believe. Fucking nobodies - who the hell do they think they are?

“Oh, I don’t-that’s a lot in question.”

Why are you such a pushover? Tell them to fuck off.

“I bet it’s a lot in general. It’s gotta be the best thing about you two, right?”

And that’s where John is at your side in a beat. It’s his own smiles as his voice booms with a sudden announcement that you two will be off - and with a grip too tight on your waist, you’re both off into the air - and you know.

You know when your boy’s lips are pulled thin and there’s heavy breathing. You want to tell him to do those breathing exercises you make him do, but you know it’s pointless.

(John thinks it utterly fucking stupid, but he only does it because it amuses him how happy you are when you see him “calm down.”, it’s not like the slow of his heartbeat means anything when he does them.)

He turns and there’s that crinkle of his glove. There’s no kisses when he pushes you down to the couch by the neck. There never is because it’s hard for John to be needy while angry without getting embarrassed.

The dress that’s too fucking short pulls up quickly and there’s already heavy breaths from you. A mimic that John holds between his gloves.

“You should’ve told them to fuck off, kitten.”

Not kitten.

Right now, you know you could go sweet and maternal with soft kisses that’ll trail down to his skin - but you’re too tired from all the meet and greets and you want it hard from your boy.

“John, I’m sorry.”

He scoffs into your mouth as his knees pushes on your crotch. He nudges against your pussy and there’s a little mewl from you. He almost loosens his grip on the arm that tries to reach for his face.

“You should be thankful I didn’t kill the bitch.”

“I am. I am, John.” It’s a soft moan where your boy puts a finger to your clit hard. He removes the glove in a quick moment before his finger is down there again - and you’re already wet.

John was already ready to fuck you into sweet pain, but the way your clit gets swollen so fast brings the blood hot. With the other hand, there’s a hard grip to your breast, he pushes your tit up as you give him a sweet moan.

Of course you like this. You’re his little brat - it can never be punishment for you. The only punishment you don’t enjoy is when he drops you while flying. But he fucks you so sweet then.

John stares into your sweet face, eyes closed and clit swollen. He looks down to your tit and swallows. Fuck. Fuck all of this.

The best thing out of you two? Fuck that bitch, but it’s a pretty close second.

His pointer finger brushes over the nipple as he begins to make circles on your little clit. He slips another finger into your pussy as he goes down to suck.

It’s hard, there’s almost a bite. Your semi-pantied pussy, wet and finger-fucked, is not enough for you to ignore the pain.

“John!”

He looks up, mouth still on your nipple.

“Soft, baby. Please.”

John looks into the sweet little mouth of yours and fuck. He feels calm crawling in. It’s fucking embarrassing how quick the anger fades to get you to soften.

“Sorry.” John’s tongue swirls around the nipple to sooth. The finger picks up the pace and you’re always so tight that it would be painful with he was weak.

Your moans and mewls bring the calm to John’s chest. There’s no longer red - just you and it would make him angry if he cared. He doesn’t care anymore. He just sucks on your breast and John gets lost - you can see it in your boys eyes. You can see him suddenly…get weak. If that’s what you can call it.

No, he’s thinking. And what a mess that’ll be.

The finger inside your pussy slows to a stop. You almost put your hands down there to guide him, but you see John pop his mouth off your nipple. There’s a glossy mouth as he almost flops the side of his face into your breast. He removes the finger and lowers his weight onto you. His favorite cuddle position. You almost sigh, but you just bring your hand to the other side of his face.

You brush against his cheek.

“John?”

There’s a sniffle.

“Baby?”

There’s no sigh.

“Is this the best thing about us?”

“Huh, baby?”

The weight of John’s head grows heavy. “The fucking sex, is that really the best thing?”

You sniffle. No, you guess.

“I don’t know, John. Would that be a problem?”

“It is the best thing, but all of it is.”

“Yeah.”

There’s a moment where you see your boys eyes shift, and then he lifts his head up towards you, chin on skin.

“What’s the other thing?”

You know exactly what to do now. There’s never a moment where you’re not working, you love it.

“The other thing?”

“The other things. About me.”

You run your hand over his hair. “You, John? Everything.”

He scoffs. “Besides my fucking dick.”

There’s a small laugh where John squeezes your thigh.

“Your hair.” You give the blond a little tug. “Your eyes.”

It’s said with a smile, but John furrows his brows and pulls his lips thin.

“Those-“ He inhales hard. “Those are just fucking things.”

His swallow is like a punch.

Oh, your poor baby.

“Aw, John - baby, come here, sweet boy.”

You pull him up, his head on your shoulders. It’s always so easy and you know John will kill you if he ever sees this as a weakness. Or worse, he’ll hide you forever.

“I love your laugh. Your real laugh.” You continue to play with his hair as you feel his thin lips on your neck - not kissing. “I love how you always find ways for dates even when you’re busy.”

John’s hand finds it’s way to your unsucked breast. He holds it gentle in an open palm.

You sigh light. “I love how strong you are - and I don’t mean your powers. You’re my strong boy. And that’s the best thing.”

There’s an instant squeeze to your breast. You don’t think it sexual, because John seems so focus on your answer that he might not be thinking about anything else.

There’s another sniffle.

“Okay.”

And your boy’s okay. He’ll be proud of himself soon enough.

You seem him look down to your sucked nipple, and you tug on his hair slow. You feel the hardness of his dick in your thigh.

“What’s the best thing about me, besides the best things?”

With another squeeze to one breast, and before going to suck on the other, you know John’s back to John, as always.

“That you’re mine.”

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