realityescapedd - Tumblr blog

realityescapedd · 11 months ago

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Internal Affairs (Homewell)

i've been wanting to write Homewell for ages, but was having a hard time deciding exactly what i what i wanted to write, but then this idea hit me today. i ended up banging it out in a single morning, and i'm pretty happy with it! i enjoyed getting into Madelyn's head a bit. also, @xieyaohuan is 100% to blame for this. thank you for being the Homewell champion!

Summary: 18+ 2.3k homelander x madelyn. bottomlander. sublander. fingering. After Homelander and Maeve’s very public breakup, Homelander’s ego is wounded. Despite being talked into viewing the breakup as his idea by Madelyn, the rejection has left him stung and irritable. Because of this, Madelyn finds herself dealing with him storming into her office more than twice as often, pent up in every imaginable way.

She decides to take matters into her own hands, and relieve some of that stress. For both their sakes.

The knock to her office door barely counts as a formality anymore. By the time Madelyn gets halfway through her invitation of “Come in,” Homelander is already through the door, shutting it behind him. He’s wearing the same pinched expression he has been for the last week and a half, his lips pursed, brows furrowed. She bites back a sigh, bracing her hands on the edge of her desk.

“Have you seen The Source headline today?” He asks her, bristled and petulant.

“I have not,” Madelyn answers, pensively tapping her fingers on the underside of her desk. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes,” he hisses, stepping towards her desk, though he maintains an undercurrent of respect in the distance he keeps, even in his upset. “Maeve Moving On? It’s been a week, Madelyn! A week, and she’s gallivanting around like she’s Nicole Kidman post divorce. Like she’s celebrating,” he says, spitting the word like it’s something vile. “This is not what we discussed.”

“The tabloids will talk. That’s what they do,” she answers in her best soothing, placating tone. “It’s alright. Maeve has an interview with VNN this week. We’ll address the rumors then, and she can put them to bed.”

Homelander scoffs. “Please. The only thing she’s putting to bed is every Tom, Dick and Jane that catches her eye. She’s out of control, Madelyn. You need to talk to her. It’s not just her image on the line, alright? It’s mine, too. And the Sevens!” He says, pointedly tapping a gloved finger on her desk. Righteous anger is easier to wear than the petty, wounded state of his pride.

“I hear you. You’re right,” she says, standing from her seat. That causes him to straighten up, his hands falling to his sides. “Maeve’s out of control,” she echoes him, watching the way her validation loosens some of the tension from his expression. “I will talk to her. Make sure she’s up on all of her talking points.”

Though his jaw is still tight, Homelander nods curtly. In a perfect world, that would be enough. He would accept what she told him, his upset would be soothed, and he would leave her office in peace. Instead, he remains there as if rooted in place, his hands in tight fists by his sides. It isn’t enough, and if she’s being honest, Madelyn knew it wouldn’t be.

Ultimately, the tabloids have nothing to do with his upset. Homelander has dealt with the ups and downs of publicity his entire life, and this isn’t the first time his relationship with Maeve has been covered in a less than positive light. No, he doesn’t care about any of that. His split with Maeve has left him with a void he doesn’t know how to fill. That would be true no matter how Madelyn spun the situation in his favor.

She supposes it couldn’t have lasted forever. Maeve had been by no means an excellent accomplice in maintaining Homelander, but at the very least she had been effective. If she was going to keep the hero under her thumb, she was going to have to take a more hands on approach, and pick up Maeve’s newly loosened slack.

Madelyn smiles warmly, and lifts a hand to beckon him to her. “Come over here.”

Homelander blinks owlishly, visibly caught off guard. Perhaps he had expected to be dismissed, still broiling with unresolved misery and newfound loneliness. Tentatively, he crosses the invisible threshold Madelyn maintains between them, eying her with equal parts curiosity and wariness. He makes his way around her desk, but stops before moving behind it. His hands fold demurely in front of him.

She beckons him again, urging him closer. “It’s okay. All the way.”

His throat bobs as he swallows his hesitance, nodding. He steps closer, and Madelyn rolls her chair all the way back to the wall, opening up the space behind her desk. Once he’s close enough, she puts her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry that she hurt you,” she says quietly, watching his expression slowly smooth out until he looks young and vulnerable. It takes very little from her to get him to this point.

She’s made sure of that.

“Breakups are hard, and they’re lonely,” she says. She strings together specific words, ones she knows will disarm him, with all the care of a jeweler crafting the perfect series of gems in a necklace. “You’re so strong. Anyone else would have crumbled by now.”

“Not me,” he says, an attempt to coax more of those pretty, sparkling words from her.

“No,” she agrees, smoothing her hand up and down his arm in short strokes, “Not you. Not my very best hero.”

His lips twitch in an almost smile, but it falters. His gaze drops to her hand on his arm, following the back and forth flow of it. There is familiar, barely contained longing in his expression. Through their time together, she has been careful to microdose him with these affections, feeding him just enough to ensure that he neither starves, nor grows bored. Either would be deeply dangerous.

However, every so often, she acknowledges that there must be something more dangling from the stick than a morsel. There must be the lurking possibility of a feast, or he will lose interest regardless.

Madelyn takes hold of his wrist, and gives a gentle pull. He looks back up at her with all the tentative curiosity of a wild animal. She maintains her nurturing smile, and asks him, “Do you trust me?”

He only nods, which tells her that, mentally and emotionally, he’s exactly where she needs him.

“Good,” she says, dragging the word out, letting it wash over him. “Come here. Put your hands on the desk,” she instructs, barely above a whisper. He casts her one lingering, uncertain glance before his curiosity and obedience win out. He bends slightly to flatten his palms to her desk, eyes trained on the grain of the wood.

Madelyn steps forward, her skirt brushing against his cape, and reaches around him. She deftly undoes the mechanism of his belt, and hooks her thumbs into the waistband of his pants. He sucks in a sharp, exhilarated breath as she pushes them down to his mid thighs. Without all the ridiculous padding of the suit, he feels much less unwieldy beneath her palms. She slides them up his outer thighs like she might touch the flank of a horse so as not to spook it, keeping her touch confident and smooth.

Homelander has always had a distinctly sterile scent to him, and impeccable hygiene. She has no doubt that the frequent showers are to do with his heightened senses. He likes to keep clean and scentless. He’s the same way when it comes to his gloves, always preferring to keep them on over getting his hands dirty navigating the world. Unless he’s seeking connection, of course.

Next, she adjusts his cape out of the way, settling the bulk of the heavy fabric on her desk. He adjusts his hand to pin it there, eager to assist the process in any way he can. With a hand between his shoulder blades, she gradually applies pressure until he gets the message, and sinks down, down, down, stopping only when his chest hits the desk.

“There we go. Just like that,” she coos, continuing to stroke his bare skin, letting her nails scrape every so often. With her other hand, she pops open the side drawer of her desk, and retrieves the bottle of massage oil she keeps. Most days it’s reserved for her dry skin and aching neck. Today, it serves a greater purpose.

Pouring a generous amount into her palm, she rubs it between her hands to warm it. Homelander cranes his neck to try and get a look at her over his shoulder, but between all the padding and his eagle pauldrons, there isn’t much maneuverability. She doesn’t let him wait for long. Once the oil is warm and slick on both of her hands, she puts her hands to his lower back, just beneath the top of his suit, and begins working the oil into his skin.

Homelander inhales sharply, giving a little noise of confusion that quickly melts into a pleased, needy sigh. Madelyn works her fingers into the tight, woven steel muscles of his lower back, dragging her hands gradually lower. His breath hitches when she takes two generous handfuls of the meat of his rump, rolling her palms into it.

Before long, he’s panting softly, rustling the papers on her desk with every huff. His legs have settled into a wanton spread, and she’s ignored the swell of his cock long enough that, when she steps back to apply more oil, she can see that he’s drooled a puddle of precome onto the floor below.

“Would you like some more?” She asks, to which he nods fervently.

“More,” he pleads, swallowing back the saliva in his mouth, breathing shallowly.

“Of course,” she soothes, stepping back in close. “Anything for my sweet boy.” She punctuates her words by cupping his balls in her warm, wet palm. His whole body jerks, but he settles readily back into her hand, rutting only once against the pressure before he reigns himself in. “That’s it. Always so good for me,” she says, massaging him in slow, rhythmic rolls of her hand. With her other hand, she takes her middle finger and begins working his rim.

Homelander keens while she slides knuckle deep into him, his hips giving barely restrained little jerks, torn between pushing down into her hand and back onto her finger. Everything about her touch is too much and too little, a balance she has worked diligently to perfect. She’s certain she could make him cry if she teased him long enough, but there isn’t time enough in the day for that. He has an appearance this afternoon, and she’s determined that he will be on his best behavior.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” She prompts, drawing her middle finger all the way out, only to join her index finger with it, sinking both back in in a slow, purposeful push. “You deserve to feel good.”

He’s nodding, babbling reedy nonsense through his breaths.

Madelyn smiles down at him. “Because you are good. My good, good boy,” she says, his balls tightening up in her palm as his muscles contract. She fucks him languidly with her fingers, scissoring them on every slow pull. “Aren’t you? Tell me you’re my good boy.”

“I’m your good boy,” he rasps out immediately, fists clenched so hard on her desk they shake, the leather of his gloves barely surviving his grip. If he were gripping her desk, he would have cracked it by now.

“That’s right. And you always will be,” she murmurs, sliding her hand from his balls to the underside of his cock. With only her middle finger, she touches a firm line from the base of his cock, following the thick, throbbing vein there, all the way up to the leaking head of it, and then all the way back down.

That’s all it takes to set him off. Homelander moans loud and low, his whole body going rigid as his cock jumps with each pulse of his release, ribbons of come audibly painting the floor beneath Madelyn’s desk. She slips her fingers out of him and settles both hands on his ass, massaging and hushing him through his explosive orgasm.

“There you go,” she whispers, maintaining those calming strokes as he comes gradually down from his high. He’s slumped completely down on her desk, but he’s managed not to destroy anything. That wasn’t always the case. These little “sessions” used to invariably involve some degree of destruction, be it strength or laser related, but over time she has trained him well. Aside from the spill, one would never even know unless they saw it happen. “That’s it. You’re wonderful.”

When his breathing evens out, and the aftershocks settle, Madelyn cleans her hands on a hand towel, and then helps him pull his pants back up. He turns around, and she tucks his soft cock back into the confines of his pants with all the care and attention of a lover, albeit a brisk one. She fastens his belt back into place, and smooths his suit out.

Homelander is smiling loosely down at her, cheeks flushed a vibrant pink. He’s got the look of a lovesick puppy, and he leans into her hand just like one when she reaches up to fix his hair. “Thanks,” he whispers, his tone warm and conspiratorial.

“It’s my pleasure,” she tells him sweetly, brushing back a couple loose locks of his hair. “Do you feel better?”

“Mhm,” he hums, leaning towards her. She can see in the half close of his eyes and the slight tension in his lips that he means to kiss her, but she deftly redirects him, and kisses his cheek. Certain rewards must be reserved.

“Good. Nothing makes me happier,” she tells him, giving his gloved hand a squeeze before she steps back. “Now, I have a meeting, but Ashley has your talking points for this afternoon. Will you pick them up from her on your way out?”

There’s a brief flash of disappointment in his gaze, but ultimately, the giddiness of his post orgasm haze wins out, and he nods. “Sure. You’re going to be there, right?” He asks, voice sounding small, despite the way he towers over her.

“Of course I will,” she says, smiling. “I’ll always be there for you.”

His own smile broadens, predator teeth hidden behind the wide spread of his lips. “Okay.”

He lingers only a moment longer before he clears his throat, and sheepishly excuses himself. Madelyn watches him go, waiting until the door closes behind him to sit. She inhales a slow, silent breath, sinking into her seat on the exhale. She stares down at the steaky, wet mess of come staining the carpet beneath her desk. After a beat, she reaches over for her intercom. “Ashley, make sure Homelander gets those documents for his appearance today. Also, send in the custodian. I spilled my coffee,” she lies smoothly, lifting her finger off the button.

Sometimes, keeping your business clean requires making manageable messes.

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realityescapedd · 11 months ago

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Nothing To Lose, A God Complex To Gain (G/T Homelander)

1391 words. Pure angst. Homelander is 8 feet tall, and needs a hug.

Big sad backstory for a big sad boy.

When Homelander was a child, he was raised in a lab. He never knew his real parents, only the cold scientists who monitored him day by day. For the first six years of his life, these scientists would treat him with some level of kindness. Vogelbaum, the closest thing Homelander had for a father figure, would even entertain him and read him stories. He felt like he almost had some semblance of a childhood during those years.

Then, things took a turn for the worse. Vogelbaum explained to Homelander that he had to be trained to become the ultimate superhero, and the strongest man in the world. And in order to achieve this, they had to experiment.

The torture he endured left his mind forever scarred, with the only purpose being to test how indestructible he truly was. Burning, drowning, fighting, beating, detonating… the surgeries, the acids, the drugs… anything and everything they could, they tried on him.

Once the testing started, none of the scientists would talk to him like they did when he was younger, like they were his friends. The solitude he was forced to undergo led him to create a new companion, the face he saw in the mirror of his room. At first this boy appeared friendly, willing to talk to him about things he enjoyed like adventure stories and American history. But things started to shift when the face became more than just a confidant. He became Homelander's protector, shielding him from the horrors of his daily experimentation by allowing his brain to disassociate. His thoughts were guarded by an armoured cocoon that only his reflection could manifest.

Homelander had always been a small child, shorter and scrawnier than average. Even though nobody would ever say anything to his face, he could hear the scientists' secret discussions with his super hearing. The conversations they had with Vogelbaum, and how disappointed his father figure was that his prized experiment was deplorably short. How nobody would respect ever him, even with his superhuman powers.

This all changed when he finally hit puberty. His growth started out slowly when he turned thirteen, until he was finally on track with what was expected for his age. The scientists around him seemed to treat him with more approval, including Vogelbaum. The chagrin his father figure previously displayed had appeared to lessen the taller he became, like he was finally becoming what he was supposed to be.

When his growth started picking up a bit more, Vogelbaum was actually happy at this. At six feet tall, Homelander was a respectable height for what would become Vought’s golden boy. Something that the average citizens could praise, and look at with admiration. At last, he was fitting the mold of a proper protector for the people of the United States.

However, it didn't stop there. In fact, his growth seemed to accelerate year by year. Homelander was acutely aware of how much taller he was getting than the scientists in the lab, watching them go from being eye-level to him to slowly only reaching his chin, then his shoulders, then his chest, and lastly his abs.

He saw their expressions shift from esteem to fright, and he could hear them privately voicing their concerns to Vogelbaum. They were terrified that their little experiment was growing out of their control and becoming a monster. Even though they tried to keep straight faces around him, he could hear their hearts beating faster in his presence, and sense their cortisol levels spiking as he continued to loom higher and higher above them.

Unlike regular humans of his height, who tended to have slender, lean physiques riddled with skeletal problems, his stature didn't appear to affect him negatively at all. He was in peak physical condition, and he could build muscle without even doing anything, filling out his frame like a freight truck. Powered by the Compound V coursing through his veins, there wasn't anything the scientists could implement that would be capable of halting or even slowing down his growth.

The cruel testing Homelander was abused with seemed to cease the taller he became. Realizing the scientists could not force him to do anything, he could tell they were too scared to retaliate against him when he simply refused to go along with their demands. There wasn't anything they could do to punish him, or anything they could take away from him. He already had nothing to lose, and only a god complex to gain.

Not only did the scientists' dialogue about him change, so did what his mirrored reflection said. It was easy for him to convince Homelander of his superiority to the inadequate mudpeople, those clearly beneath him. He was obviously bigger, stronger, and better than everyone else on this planet. However, there was still a little voice he heard deep inside, contradicting what his only friend would tell him. The voice of a small boy, crying and asking for someone to love him. He never knew how to respond, so he just ignored the voice, even though it always weighed heavily on the back of his mind.

Once he turned eighteen, his growth had finally tapered off, leaving him at an intimidating eight feet tall with a physique to match. He was now ready to be announced to the world as "The Homelander", and start his career at Vought. Surprisingly to him, he learned that the Vought Tower had already been accommodated for his height, with ceilings high enough that he wouldn't have to worry about crashing his head through. Unlike the lab, the man in the mirror reminded him, with much shorter ceilings forcing him to bend down like a worthless animal. Something that a god like him should never have to do. The world should be altered to adapt to him, not the other way around.

When Homelander was introduced to the waiting public as Vought's premiere supe, the crowd cheered for him while he flew down from above onto the stage. He could hear the audience's nervous heartbeats as they clapped for him, a mix of terror and awe. At first it left him uneasy, but it quickly became a drug for him. It was something that the man in the mirror urged him to desire, a gratifying expression of how he truly was a god to these miniscule beings. He must be feared to be respected, and to be loved.

At the top floor of the Vought Tower was the three-story penthouse where Homelander would now be living. It was immaculate, with all of the furniture inside sized appropriately for him. For the first time in his life, he had his own space where he actually felt normal, away from the mudpeople that he had to tilt his whole body down at to even acknowledge.

Looking outside through his penthouse window, he used his super vision to spy on the puny ants down below. Going about their inferior lives, unaware of the increasing jealousy Homelander felt as he watched people laugh amongst themselves, holding hands while sharing a kiss, and genuinely expressing their love for each other.

It almost made him feel sad, but the man in the mirror quickly stomped those sentiments out. With the absence of Vogelbaum and the other scientists, his reflection had to take on a parental role. To remind him that he is a god, and those human emotions were as useless to him as their pathetic weaknesses. It was a constant battle he felt raging in his heart, fighting with the little boy inside him that longed to feel affection, and his reflection snapping at him to stab a knife through this "sickness".

Although Homelander sided with his mirror friend and cast aside those human emotions, he could never fully get rid of the little boy he locked away. That poor child he could still hear crying out for comfort, which he knew an inhuman monster like him would never receive. Nobody could ever love him when they were all afraid of him. At night while he laid in bed alone, he could hear the child sobbing louder, accompanied by his own tears as he wrapped his arms around himself like a pitiful façade of a hug.

The deafening loneliness of his penthouse made him wish he never left the lab at all.

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realityescapedd · 11 months ago

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attention | starlight, homelander

starlight x super!reader x homelander

starlight debuts her new super suit during a meeting with the seven. only it's hard to focus on business when she's playing a little game she likes to call temptation.

note: first fic for the boys. not yet proofread sorry for typos. written so late at night lol. enjoy!! love <3 masterlist

warnings: teasing, stripping, oral, penetration, assplay, fingering, masterbation, dirty talk, homelander and his mouth.

3.1k words

Homelander paced back and forth. How his legs weren't aching in the slightest after two hours of this baffled you. Well, it would have, if you weren’t too busy sneaking glances at Starlight.

This was the first time you had seen her for a short while. It’s funny, really, how only after a few days your brain demanded she occupy every thought, every moment of solitude.

It was curiosity. That’s what you allowed yourself to believe, at least.

You blame her occupation on your mind on the first time you met her. She carried herself like a lost little mouse, scared to squeak, scared to draw any attention to herself. But she had it. Ample attention, from all corners of the room.

Deep, Maeve, even Noir all wanted to peel back the layers. See what made her so special to be the newest addition to The Seven. But you? Well, it was a different kind of layer you wanted to pull off her.

The little white suit, like something a devoted mother makes her child for Trick or Treating. A deeply religious mother at that. The sleeves, the layers of fabric. Imagining what could be underneath it was a workout in itself, let alone the kind you wanted to rope her into.

But today, now, in her seat opposite yours at the meeting table of The mighty Seven, was something else.

Those toned legs nearly didn’t end, and you watched her cross, uncross, stretch out and fiddle with them under the table for too long. Did she know you could see her panties when she wriggled around to get into a more comfortable position? Did she know you were watching?

Too many times she unhooked her leg over her knee, spreading those thighs just a little too wide. Who would ever take little miss church girl for a red thong kind of girl?

She spread her legs again and you caught sight of another flash of red. Teeth painfully pressed against your lip, you glanced away, back at Homelander’s impatient strides.

Being so obvious was trouble. Nevermind if she caught you looking, or any of The Seven for that matter. They were all pent up perverts who were all doing the same. Even Maeve, who squeezed her thighs too many times to not be doing exactly the same as what you were doing.

But Forget them. The real issue was Homelander. If he caught sight, no, if he caught a line of the dirty thoughts flooding your mind…

Your head swayed side to side. Every step he took, you watched like a hawk. Back and forth, back and forth, just like Starlight’s swinging boot. Even when you were good, minding your business like a saint, she always seemed to find a way to knock through your defences and place herself at the centre of your universe again.

This time, your head followed the swinging of her boot. Back and forth, back and forth…

“Starlight,” Homelander said, nearly exasperated “What do I even do with you,” he muttered almost under his breath, but it wouldn’t be Homelander if he hid his feelings. “Everyone’s too busy for you this week. Everyone except Heatwave. Why don’t you girls get to know each other a little bit, huh? Bonding, chit chats, just what all women can’t get e-fucking-nough of.”

Starlight leant forward, elbows on the desk, as if she was excited. Only her shoulders drew in like she was frightened, or at least a little nervous.

She met your gaze across the table. Your face was stone, until she offered a small, polite smile and turned her attention back to Homelander. She nodded along to the next topic of nonsense he rambled on about yet again, but you didn’t miss the way she lowered her shoulders and squeezed them towards her chest.

Metal. You licked at your broken bottom lip, trying desperately to steady your heartbeat. Homelander wouldn’t miss it if it carried on thumping against your ribcage, but how could you help it when you could think of was Starlights breasts heaving over the curve of her suit.

She released her shoulders. They no longer bracketed her chest, and you could no longer see her enlarged tits.

You should be relieved, happy even, now that your heartbeat was recovering. Although you couldn’t shake the aching disappointment of having to return to imagination to see what was under that new little super suit.

And super it was.

“Heatwave?”

You glanced at Homelander, suddenly aware of just how many eyes were on you.

“Yes, Homelander?” You said as monotonously as you could manage.

“When you have a moment, because I know your time is so precious,” he added quickly, the corners of his smile stretching nearly too tightly across his cheeks. “Can you get up and leave the fucking room?” He lurched forward, hips thumping against the surface of his spot at the end of the table. The vein on the side of his neck swollen so quickly, as if a bloated worm had somehow nuzzled a path under his skin.

Had Starlight seen this side of him yet? She must have. Innocent church girls didn’t suddenly trade in their layers for skin without reason, did they? The urge to check her legs were still deliciously on full display nearly convinced you to turn away from Homelander. Nearly.

You stared at Homelander silently. Scream as loud as he liked, you knew better than to get up.

He blew out a sharp flush of air through his nostrils, eyes squeezed shut. “That fucking heartbeat,” he mumbled, pressing a gloved finger to his temple. He sighed and ran his hands over his face. “You know what, everyone,” his cheeks were porcelain once more and that worm had freed itself. “Let’s leave it there for today. Good job, everyone. Except you, Deep, I can see your hard-on, let alone hear the things you want to do to Heatwave. I mean, really vivid,” he grimaced.

Deep scrambled out of the room first, and before you could leave with Noir, Homelander called out once again.

“Heatwave, Starlight, why don’t you both come with me?” A fool would think he’d asked, but a thinly veiled demand was the reality.

He led you both through the halls of the top floor of Vought Tower. Starlight followed him first. Did you let her or did she slam her boot in front of you before you had a chance? Whichever it was, you couldn’t feel more gratitude as you followed behind, mesmerised by the sway of her hips and the tightness of her dress.

Her boots struck the floor like a supermodel on a catwalk, the little mouse act long forgotten.

The strides she took grew longer, and you wondered if she knew the hem of her dress was hiking dangerously close to the curve of her ass. It’s not like you had to wonder where the top of her leg ended, either. Her dress, like a second skin, sinfully fed you that secret.

It was right there. So close you could almost reach right out and feel it for yourself. A wandering hand nearly left your sides, but you held it back when you heard the elevator ding.

“Ladies,” Homelander courteously gestured you both inside.

You settled in the elevator and watched as Homelander fingered level 1 on the panel of buttons. The lobby. Where was he taking you? Out of Vought Tower, or else why would he take you to the lobby?

The elevated buckled, the three of you jerking a foot out to catch yourselves. The whirring of the light bulb up above occupied your mind in a bid to escape the bubbling dread in your stomach.

Homelander stretched out a hand and slapped the emergency stop button.

You spared Starlight a glance. Her brows were knitted together just like yours, and you both turned to face Homelander.

He slowly

“Starlight,” Homelander said, smoothing a hand over her loose curls. She nearly leaned into his touch, but she had enough sense to wait for the penny to drop. “Take off your dress.”

Starlight blinked. “What? How could you ask me to-“

Homelander’s grin flattened into a tight-lipped frown. “Shut your fucking mouth.” She did. “I know what game you’re playing, girls,” Homelander seethed. “In my own meeting, for our greater good, you’re serving yourself up on a plate like a whore,” he shot at Starlight, his neck twisting to you right after. “And you, you pathetic slut, are wetting your panties for it.”

Was it shame? Embarrassment at getting caught out? No, it couldn’t be. It couldn’t be because you were already sweating at the thought of what your punishment was about to be.

“Heatwave, turn around and face Starlight.” On your heels you slowly spun around, swallowing the lump in your throat when you found Starlight’s head held high.

Taking it like a champ. Like a good girl. A good, innocent girl.

Homelander all but pressed himself against your back. He lent in, chin hanging over your shoulder. “Watch,” he said. “As she shows you exactly what you’ve been dying for.”

Starlight’s jaw clenched.

“Off,” Homelander said finally.

Starlight, locked in a silent competition with Homelander’s unrelenting gaze, unclenched her jaw. She turned to you. Those hard eyes now heavy lidded, fluttering up at you mischievously.

Her manicured hands slowly trailed from the sides of her legs, up over the curve of her hips, dragging her long nails over her ribs. They slowly disappeared behind her back. She stared at you for a long moment. Would she ever put you out of your misery? Oh, the suffering she inflicted, even with Homelander’s watchful eyes ready to flash red any second.

Zip.

The muscles in her arms flexed as she dragged it down her back. She brought her arms back to her ribs, pinching at the thin layer of fabric concealing them. She pulled it down.

Finally you were once more graced with the curve of her breasts. Only this time, you found the red bra that secured them in place. Oh, to tear it from her skin! Would they bounce in their freedom? Would they sit still, like the good girl they belonged to?

Starlight dragged the dress down to her hips, yanked the fabric over them with force. She released it. You followed it down its endless journey from her thighs to her ankles. To lay where her dress sat, looking up at where it once held her. Would her tits look bigger from down there? Could you see the curve of her ass?

“Man,” Homelander, was he enthralled like you, or was he revelling in your suffering. “This must be killing you, to watch but not touch.”

No fucking shit.

The heat in your chest raged. Her innocent eyes, big and round, locked on yours, but that little pull at the corner of her lips. She was enjoying this. Enjoying your pain.

Was she enjoying Homelander too?

“Take it off, Starlight,” he said. “Let her see what she’s been begging for.” Starlight reached behind her back to her bra strap, unhooking the clasp, but not before Homelander whispered, “Let’s see if all those thoughts you’ve been filling my head with were right.”

The bra fell to the floor.

Her tits, out in the open, all for you. Homelander might have been watching, but her eyes were fixed on you.

“Starlight, why don’t you take off those- oh!” Homelander gasped as she slowly gravitated towards you.

She reached down and delicately took ahold of your hands. Slowly, she lifted them up, ghosting over her abdomen, her ribs, until she finally set them on her chest.

Her eyes met yours.

“Is this what you wanted?” She asked, words like velvet in your ear, leaning close to the other side of your head, away from Homelander. “To feel my tits, all in your hands, like they belong to you.”

Homelander’s superhearing drew out a low hum from his chest, and he stepped away from you until his back met the elevator wall.

Starlight ignored him. “Go on,” she said. “I’ll let you play with them.”

Your hands slowly grasped her breasts, squeezing them once, twice, that fire in your chest dropped to between your thighs.

Your hand shot up to her throat. She gasped in surprise, head forcefully tilted up. The corners of your lips slowly spread into a grin, as you squeezed her throat just enough to draw out a whimper.

“Let me?” You repeated, tilting your head. “This is what you’ve been asking me to do this whole time. That little dress, those red panties… no, I’m the one letting you have what you want.”

You ignored the zipper behind you, and the heavy panting from Homelander.

Starlight gazed up at you, lips parted. You meant closer, a line of spit falling from your lips, faking between hers. She pushed the spit towards the front of her lips, nearly letting it spill down her chin, before sucking it back in and swallowing.

“Good girl.”

She whimpered again, just like she did when your wandering hand met the wet patch of her panties.

“Oh,” you gasped. “This wet already? No…” you pouted, nearly sympathetic. “No, this must’ve been from the meeting too, right Starlight? I know your little pussy was wet that whole time you were teasing me.”

“Mhph,” she cried under your chokehold as you brushed a finger over her sodden panties.

Hooking a finger around the red lace, you barely had to yank it down to rip them from her. Super strength had its moments, even if you didn’t sign up for it. Starlight gasped, hips fitting towards the flat palm you pressed against her core.

“Ah, ah,” you tutted. “You didn’t think I was going to be that nice, did you?”

Starlight’s brow furrowed. Then they shot up to her hairline when you spun her around and folder her over. Ass up in the air, you ghosted your hands over the fatty flesh.

“How did you manage to hide all this under there?” You asked, spreading your hands over her squishy cheeks. She moaned at the nails your dragged into her skin, then yelped as you crashed your palms down against her ass.

“Fuck!” She cried.

You bent down to your knees, settling under her bare pussy. Not just wet but dripping. Like a teardrop running down a cheek, it dripped out of her pink slit down the top of her thigh. The flat surface of your tongue pressed against Starlight’s soft skin, dragging up her thigh until you reached the end of the trail.

“Ah!” Little mouse squeaked as your tongue lapped at her soaked wet hole. “Oh my goodness,” she drawled out, a hand finding your hair.

Even with a tongue in her pussy, she still couldn’t manage to cuss. Such a good girl.

You set yourself back onto the floor, back against the elevator wall. You yanked her hips towards your face, licking a stripe up her pussy. She gasped and then cried out as you probed her with a finger. It was soaked the very first time you pulled it back out.

You added a second digit to her sopping wet heat, then attached your eager tongue to her pink clit. Her hips jerked into your touch, her wet juices spreading over your face and you accepted it. Rubbed your face all up in her pussy to get your whole face covered in her pussy juice, like it was an age-rewinding moisturiser.

If licking and finger fucking her pussy was loud, then Homelander’s wet fist fucking took the cake. He groaned and pumped himself at the free show, gasping over and over at the sound of your fingers stretching out Starlight’s tiny little hole.

“Oh, yeah… yes!” he grunted. “Finger her asshole, too.”

You did as told, but not because he ordered it. You really wanted to see how tight that pretty little asshole was. Your free hand unwrapped Starlight’s tensed thigh, one finger dipping into her pussy for lubrication. You pulled it out and circled it around the tight ring of her ass.

“Be a good girl for me, baby.”

“Yes, oh I’ll be so good for you,”

You sucked on her clit, a reward for her obedience, and plunged your finger into that forbidden little hole of hers.

Starlight’s jaw nearly unhinged. She nearly bounced back onto your digit. Desperately she rocked her hips—no, fuck that, she violently humped your face, taking it in her pussy and her ass like a pornstar.

“Oh, oh, oh I’m so close,” she warned.

“That’s fucking right,” Homelander grunted, pumping so hard he was sure to have uneven biceps by now. “That’s right, Starlight, good fucking Starlight.”

She ground her pussy over your face, and with both hands and your tongue occupied, you used the only thing left you had. Your voice. You hummed against her clit, and suddenly her hands shot to your hair, tugging at and nearly tearing out your hair as she crashed into her orgasm.

“I’m cumming!” She cried out. “Oh God, I’m fucking cumming!”

Homelander’s heavy footsteps charged over, a hot liquid shooting onto your face just as Starlight’s pussy coated your fingers with white cream.

“Nggh,” Homelander grunted, pumping the last droplets of cum onto your chin. “Ahh,” he sighed out, rubbing the tip of his cock over your wet lips, and then returned to the panel on the wall.

He pressed the emergency button again and the elevator slowly dropped down the building.

Starlight glanced down at you. Lust-blown pupils hidden behind heavy eyelids, as she nearly fell down onto you.

You grasped her hips, holding her up and settling her against the wall.

Homelander glanced over. “Get yourselves together, Jesus, it’s like a fucking cum grenade just exploded.” He said, disgust taking its rightful place back in his arrogant throat.

You quickly pulled up Starlight’s dress, hiding her heaving tits underneath the fabric. The bra stuffed into the chest of your own super suit just for now, and the panties you wiped over your cum covered face. Those also went into your suit, to cover up the evidence, sure, but really you wanted to keep hold of them.

Starlight, slowing her breathing down, rolled back her shoulders, calm and confident as if nothing had happened. That didn't sit right with you, and so you leaned in, just close enough for her to feel your breath on her neck.

"What would the lord think of you cussing his name when you cum?"

Starlight snapped her wide eyes over to you, just as Homelander snickered, and the elevator doors slid open.

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realityescapedd · 11 months ago

Note

If you’re open for requests, could you write something with Homelander please?

*cough* pervy Homelander *cough*

content warnings / tags : MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS DNI, strong non-con to barely dub-con, panty thief / sniffer homelander!, oral ( fem reader receiving ), fingering, homelander basically threatening to kill you with laser eyes, stalking, 1.2k words, not proofread ;-;

kai’s notes : hey, my love, sorry this took so long :( I hope this is what you had in mind, I wasn’t fully sure what to write but I made a small drabble nonetheless ! I’m not sure how I feel about this at all, maybe I’ll rewrite it some day, but here it is <3

you crept into his mind day and night, torturing him daily without your knowledge. you slowly became his obsession and it didn’t take you long to realise you had somewhat of a stalker.

you’d been working at vought for a few months and within the first few weeks you’d noticed weird things. at first it was small things like pens and notepads going missing, then a photo of you and your friend was torn in half, your face missing from the picture but your friends sat on your desk.

a few weeks later it began happening at home, to the point you changed your locks and installed cameras in your home, but it never caught anything. you’d put down your working long hours and doing too much work as to why you’d ‘forget’ where you put things. your keys not being where you left them, things going missing from the fridge, cupboard doors being left open, even not putting your clothes in the laundry basket properly. it wasn’t until you noticed that pairs of underwear and shirts started disappearing, perfume depleting faster than usual, your hairbrush being cleaned off from hair.

you were new to the city, no one knew who you were, you had no friends or family there so you knew it couldn’t be anyone you were familiar with. you tried to report it but it wasn’t taken seriously, not that it surprised you in the slightest.

every day at work got worse, always having mountains of paperwork to go through, and home was no escape either — both places feeling as unsafe as the other. but today was worse than usual, all you’d been doing was dealing with office politics and running around after the seven to get them to sign paperwork. and you were the only one that seemed to be doing any work around the tower, and being new made it all that much worse.

once you got home you threw your bag down on the floor, and stripped off as you walked towards your bedroom, desperate to jump in the shower and go to bed.

“what the fuck…”

you stopped dead in your tracks as you saw the homelander laid out on your bed, pants around his ankles, cock in his hand, and a pair of your dirty underwear over his face.

he didn’t even bother to look over at you, instead he fucked his fist even harder, quicker. your name rolled from his tongue over and over, his hips bucking needily into his hand, he was whimpering like a puppy as he was approaching his finish.

you took a few steps back as slow and quiet as you could, but he could hear you no matter what.

“don’t you dare fucking move.” he glared down at you and stopped what he was doing, anger flashing red across his face.

your heart jumped into your throat and you did what he said, fear overtaking your body to the point you couldn’t even move if you wanted to.

“how did you—“

“get in? what, you think changing your locks could stop me?” he raised an eyebrow wondering if you were really that naive.

truth be told, you didn’t know how to answer, you’d never have suspected it was homelander that had been messing with you, stalking you. you rarely saw him that much in work, only occasionally in passing or talking to him when you needed him to sign something. in your head there was no reason for him to be here, for him to be obsessed with you to the point of breaking into your house.

“come here. now.”

he gestured you over with one finger and you stared at him, your blood pulsing through your body so loud that you could barely hear anything else. if it wasn’t for his eyes beginning to glow red, you don’t think you’d have had the balls to move your feet.

it felt like it took you an eternity to walk towards him, and his look of impatience did nothing but cement that feeling in you. he glared at you all the same, reaching out and grabbing you by the wrist with a bone crushing grip.

he pushed you down against the mattress and hovered above you, his cock pushing against your bare thigh, and he couldn’t help but moan at the slight bit of friction.

“you have no idea how long I’ve waited for this, do you?”

you shook your head side to side without meeting his gaze, too embarrassed by the way his hand was slowly rubbing up your thigh.

his other hand grabbed your jaw and forced you to look at him, a shiteating grin creeping along his face as he cocked his head to the side. it was obvious he wanted to see your face when he touched you, to see if you reacted in the way he’d always imagined you would, how he pictured your pretty face every time he came thinking about you.

homelander chuckled to himself as he kissed your neck, slowly moving his way down your nearly naked body. the lower he got, the more every muscle in your body tightened and the more excited he got. finally his head was between your legs, his face pushing up against the fabric that still covered your cunt.

he let out a sigh and breathed in, enjoying finally being able to take in your sweet scent while your underwear was still on. you could feel him grinding his nose up against you, his tongue desperately lapping at your cunt just to get as much of a taste as he could.

“please, stop…” you pushed at his head to try and get him away, but that only cemented his grip on you, his hands wrapping around your hips tighter and pulling you even closer to his face.

he enjoyed the way you struggled against him, how weak and pathetic humans were, and he could practically smell the way it turned you on — even with how much you pretended you didn’t want it.

he couldn’t resist it any longer, desperate to finally taste you on his tongue, to have your juices dripping down his chin, to have his cock buried so deep inside you that you could barely breathe.

homelander hooked a finger around the crotch of your underwear, letting his knuckle skim across your clit ever so slightly just to get a reaction out of you.

“homelander…” your hips instinctually bucked towards his touch, a heat rising up your body.

with one swift pull your panties were nearly destroyed, and he wasted no time burying his face in your cunt. his tongue swirled around your throbbing clit and dipped in and out of your hole, his grip tightening on your sides the more he lost himself in you.

your hand intertwined in his hair as you attempted to yank his face away from you, but that just added to his enjoyment, a muffled moan vibrating between your legs as he kept eating you out.

“fuck—“ he came up for air for only a second before dipping his head straight back down.

he pushed his fingers knuckle deep into you and laughed at the moan he pulled from you, no matter how much you tried to be quiet you just couldn’t. his fingers curled up back and forth inside of you and his tongue went back to work.

it was obvious that he wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied, regardless of how many times you came, how much you begged him to stop. for tonight, you belonged to him, and you were going to take it like a good little slut.

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realityescapedd · 11 months ago

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realityescapedd · 11 months ago

Note

What about some Homelander x needy fem reader smut? He made her cry and then he goes soft on her? :)

Say no more anon, here's something for you! It will definitely be something long because I liked the idea so much!

Afterparty;

Pairing: Homelander x fem!super (Ophera as usual) TW: NSFW, mention of drugs, teasing, smut, fluff, aftercare Words count: 2,6k

You and Homelander are attending a night party hosted by Vought, a grand event where the company's high-profile visitors and staff gather to mingle and celebrate.

Was as extravagant as ever, with celebrities, influencers, investors, and a few lucky civilians gathered together in an opulent ballroom. Laughter and music filled the air as people mingled around, engaging in small talk and celebrating.

You've had plenty of conversations, meetings with executives and public appearances with Homelander. By the looks of it, you've both done your part to keep up the public image that Vought has made of you two.

Exausting.

As the night starts slowly to wind down, you find yourselves with a brief moment alone. Homelander looks at you with a mix of tiredness and relief, as if he can finally let his guard down now that you two are out of the spotlight.

"Goddamn, these parties are a pain. I know they're important for the image, but dealing with all those people trying to win my favor… it's starting to wear me down."

He lets out a frustrated huff, his eyes flitting over the crowd around you.

"I swear I could snap the neck of the next person who comes up to me asking for an autograph or a selfie..."

You simply let out a little laugh, but your eyes are wandering around, and your arms are crossed at your stomach, you seem distracted.

Homelander notices the hint of something amiss in your laughter, his sharp senses picking up on the fact that you're not quite comfortable.

"Hey, you alright? You're not your usual self tonight."

''I think I drank too much, I've been feeling strange ever since the party began...but I only drank two glasses of champagne, alcohol usually doesn't cause me problems.''

It's clear that something is wrong, the more he looks at you, the more the signs of your discomfort are visible. Under the beautiful make-up that has been done on you, your cheeks are red, and a few small drops of sweat slide down your temple. Quite strange, since it's December, outside is snowing.

"Two glasses of champagne shouldn't have that kind of effect on you. You're a damn superhero, and a strong one. Are you seriously getting ill from some champagne? I was waiting for a more epic weakness, you know? Something like kryptonite, I don't know."

''If you're here to make fun of me you can go back to the party. Fuck, they must have mixed some kind of drug in my drink. Maybe something that would kill a human has that effect on me. That's the only explanation I have..."

''Someone was stupid enough to drug you? I should find whoever did it and rip their damn head off."

''You're not helping me.''

Your look of disapproval is eloquent, you would like to explain the situation to him better, but you can't do it explicitly. He seems really stupid to you right now. You're holding your chest tight with your arms, your legs are shaking slightly and for the first time you're struggling to stand on your heels.

"What do you want me to do, hold your hand and comfort you? I'm not exactly known for my tender side, you know."

Despite his words, he comes closer to support you with a hands on your back, it seems like you could fall to your knees at any moment.

But immediately he can feel your skin unnaturally warm to the touch. It's at that moment that he starts to notice something unusual, a change in your demeanor. Your breathing is rapid and shallow, and your eyes have a glassy look.

Homelander's eyes widen in realization, as he finally connects the dots.

''...those bastards. They have put an aphrodisiac in your drink.''

''Wow, It took you a while to understand, men never think about these things, I honestly envy you.''

The situation is quite embarrassing for you, but you still manage to want to make fun of him. You have found a stable and comfortable position holding on to his arm, everything seems normal to the people around you, but you know that you will be able to control yourself only for a short time.

He notices the change in your behavior, feeling your hand gripping tighter onto his arm, and the proximity of your body next to his. He clears his throat, trying to maintain his composure.

"Yeah, laugh it up. But you're the one who's struggling to stand still. How the hell did they pull something like this off? I thought Vought security was supposed to prevent something like this from happening."

It's clear that you're not listening to him, you feel the warm from your legs coming up to your throat. You bite your lower lip trying to think as little as possible, but your gaze falls on his hands, causing your mind to drift to absolutely less pure thoughts.

"What are you looking so intently at my hands?''

You lean in a bit closer to him, your playful demeanor turns more tempting, and your voice lowers to a sultry tone, his right hand still holding onto your waist and your running up on his fingers.

''Can't you imagine?''

Homelander tries to maintain his cool demeanor, but he's failing miserably.

Your fingers continue to softly caress his hand, tracing circles on his knuckles, adding to the tension between you two. You take a small step closer, your body now almost pressed against his, and look up at him through your eyelashes, a sly smile on your lips.

"All the things I'm holding myself back from asking you to do to me right now."

His mind suddenly fills with images of what you're hinting at. But he remained silent, faking a smile to the guest who are still walking around the room.

''Come on Homelander, let's get away from this party. I need you. I crave your touch. On me. In me.''

Your lips ghost along his jawline, pressing the promise of a kiss near his ear. You know exactly what to say to convince him, even If your mind is not completely clear, you know what you want and how to get it.

"Please, I'm begging you."

His self-control is about to snap.

''Fine, let's get out of here before I lose my damn mind. Follow my lead and act natural."

He starts guiding you towards the exit, with a certain urgency, casually nodding to guests and saying brief goodbyes as you make your way out of the room.

As you make your way through the crowd, you try your best to act normal and compose yourself, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to keep up the facade. Finally, he finds a secluded corridor and leads you into an empty room, shutting the door behind him.

The moment the door closes, the illusion of control shatters. The tension that have been building up between you two throughout the night reach their peak, and he takes a step forward but you are the first to close the distance and kiss him. Your body wants nothing more than him, the effect of the drug is getting worse and although you haven't said anything, your body language is more than eloquent.

The sight and feel of you, craving for him so openly, is intoxicating.

"God, you're too damn beautiful, Ophera. I've never saw you so messy and needy... only for me.''

''Oh, just for one time, could you just shut up and use your hands for something useful?''

"Eager, aren't we? Don't worry, I'll gladly indulge you.''

He wastes no time in doing as you demand. Your sparkling red dress falls to the floor, but the heat you feel continues to increase, you feel his hands descend on you, and his fierce kisses forbid you to breathe.

He pushes your legs apart with one hand, then he starts caressing you, making you release a sudden moaned whimper. The feel of his leather clad fingers moving so slowly it immediately brings you closer to the edge.

Ridiculous, how is this possible? You think. Ah, yes, that's right, the aphrodisiac, this sensation is like nothing you've ever felt. But it feels so freaking good.

His two fingers slides inside of you, he's enjoying the idea of torturing you. He can feel himself hardening more with every wet sound and moan from you, but driving you insane is going to be way more fun for him than sharing a temporary pleasure.

''...look at you, so needy just for my fucking fingers. You are truly shameless.''

Back against a cold wall, hands on his shoulders, balancing precariously on your heels while your legs tremble and your mind doesn't think clearly, this time he's in control. He's the one in charge.

Time begins to pass. Half an hour, an hour, two, three.

You're whining, you're moaning, and it sounds gorgeous.

What you don't know, is that from the exact moment he saw tears appear in your eyes, he wants to see you cry in his arms. He want to see you desperate for pleasure. You're nearly scream his name.

''You're making such a good show for me, keep going. Keep going...''

He’s enjoying how you’re desperately thrusting against him. Begging him do not stop. Ah yes, sxx between superheroes, durability is the key word to having an extreme fun. Or extreme pleasure. Y'know.

At a certain point you feel his hand move away a little, perhaps his intention was to move on to something more substantial, more thicker. But you immediately block him by grabbing his wrist. Your eyes meet again, and you really are a beautiful mess.

''Don't you dare...to stop...''

''You’ve had thirty orgasms. I'm at zero. How greedy you are.''

Bastard. He’s been keeping count.

''I don't care...touch me again, only one more time. Please...''

Your mind, now overwhelmed by ecstasy, having now the most intense moment of your life. It seems like you can't get enough, and here's his chance to get what he wants. He wants to see you cry.

''Then beg for it.''

His hand that he had leaning against the wall now comes violently wrapped around your neck. Since he can't satisfy himself, he decides that he will have fun in another way. Can't have the pleasure? Then he will have violence. Both are perfect.

Your legs are shaking again and your breath becoming more shallow. You murmur his name in short moans, begging him as he ordered, eyes closed as your makeup slowly begins to run on your cheeks, accompanied by a few small tears.

He is extremely fascinated by you in that moment, you're so lost in pleasure, so desperate for his touch to the point of crying.

''Homelander...''

You cried out as your body finally release, another orgasm coming down hard from your desperate wait. Your body shudders as your walls squeeze tighter around his fingers.

Then he pause, fingers slip out, he stopped for a second looking at you, still lost in the pleasure aftershocks.

Your body is drained of energy, your breathing ragged. You are too tired to speak, the intense moments you’ve experienced leaving you breathless. Your body feels weary and heavy, the afterglow of your passionate encounter still lingering in your core. And then your legs give out, and you stumble, risking falling, but the fact that he is in front of you, saves you.

''Hey-- you feel good? It was too much?''

He asked a bit worried, his arm wrapped securely around you.

A small, weary smile curves your lips, acknowledging his unexpected concern.

''Are you serious? It was...incredible. I assure you I'm fine, more than fine. Just a bit tired.''

He holds you firmly against him, his strong arms encircling your trembling body. He notices your exhaustion and the way your legs give out, nearly toppling over.

''Don't lie to me, tell me If there's something wrong.''

''Dear, I'm being more than sincere right now, do I seem regretful or unsatisfied? I don't think so.''

You laughed, taking him off guards with your spontaneity.

''Well--uhm, yeah okay, good. Now, let's get back to my apartment. The effect of the aphrodisiac has worn off, and soon you will feel cold with only this fancy dress on.''

''Sure...let's get back to the 99 floor.''

You try to move away from him a little, just a little to walk to the door, but you feel the balance missing and you fall back with your hands resting on his shoulders. Your expression is tired but amused, you find funny even a moment like this.

''Where do you think you're going? Come here, you tired diva. You don't have to walk, I'll carry you.''

He lifts you in his arms carrying you as you weigh nothing, and then he let out a short phrase whispered with kindness.

''I'll take care of you.''

He pauses for a moment, realizing the unfamiliar words that just slipped out of his lips. He clears his throat, trying to cover up the unexpected softness in his voice.

Your reaction is one of mild surprise mixed with a hint of amusement. You look at him with a sly smile, raising an eyebrow. Knowing damn well that he's not used to doing such things.

''Oh, what happened to the tough, domineering Homelander? Suddenly, you're acting all caring and loving.''

"Listen, why do you have to be so annoying?"

Homelander rolls his eyes in response to your playful remark. He knows you caught him in a moment of unexpected tenderness.

''Don't get used to it, doll. This is a one-time exception.''

You let out a small, satisfied laugh at his response, knowing you got under his skin again, like usual.

''Oh come on, lighten up. It's quite charming, you know. You playing the concerned and gentle lover.''

''Concerned and gentle lover, that's not really my thing, if you didn't notice.''

He watches you with a hint of skepticism, waiting for your next smart answer.

''So why did you put your cloak around my shoulders when you lifted me up? It was a spontaneous gesture and you didn't even notice it.''

Homelander froze for a moment, caught off guard by your observation. It was true, he had subconsciously done that without even thinking. He lets out a defeated sigh, realizing that you know that he cares, no matter how much he tries to deny it.

''Fine, you win. I didn't like seeing you shivering. And maybe because I…care.''

"Aww, who would have thought? The great Homelander, soft? For me? How unexpected. Maybe I should thank the one who put the drugs in my drink, without his intervention I would never have discovered this side of you.''

You smile warmly, teasingly caressing his hair with your hand while he's walking outside the room, It's now late at night and there's no one one around. Only the silence and the neon lights of the big Vought tower.

You hug him, staying close to him, safe in his arms, enjoying that moment of kindness that you don't know if it will ever return. But for tonight that's fine. You give him a gentle kiss on the cheek and let him carry you to his room.

''Damn you for making me say things like that.''

He whispered, after after gently placing you on the bed, where you will sleep together that night. You sink into the soft bed, a soft smile on your lips. You look up at him in the dim light, waiting for him. That smile will be his downfall, or yours, who knows.

He's secretly pleased by all of your lovely reaction, and he adores you so damn much, but he will never admit it.

-------

Thanks again for the request, it was really entertaining to write, hope you like it! Kisses <3

765 notes · View notes

realityescapedd · 11 months ago

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𖥨᩠ׄ݁ holy terrain!!!!!!, [ homelander x supe!reader ]

SUMMARY— based on a request aka when you arrive to vought’s tower covered in blood, you certainly don't expect to enjoy John’s comfort after feeling so numb.

WARNINGS — +18 minors dni, implied fem! reader, homelander is a warning himself, usual the boys content, mentions of murder, violence, reader matches homelander’s freak ngl, always wash your hands before fingering #PLEASE, blood kink at it's best, degradation (blink and you’ll miss it), dirty talk, porn without plot sort of?? lmao blame it on my hormones.

SIDE NOTES — hi there, this is a result of me going feral in this new season. English's not my first language, so please be kind, any mistake it's my own fault sorry in advance. Hate this mf but wont deny I wouldn't fuck him to calm him down. Please interact if you like this, reblogs, comments, likes, all means a lot to me!

The smell is under your nose.

At first it didn’t bother you to feel the warmth of it, you’re not disgusted by blood. But it’s everywhere. Fucking everywhere. Sticking in your face, staining your damn suit, pooling beneath your feet.

You can feel your own breathing, yet, you're numb to everything else. The screams of terror and the sudden silence of the killing are now something similar as a long-time-ago memory, a distant thought you cannot bring yourself to care about.

And when you came out of the elevator, you don't care about the other people looking at you either. The Vought personal that were always running in the floor, Ashley, or fucking Noir at the matter thinking you're Carrie or something, no one dares to talk to you even when you’re a mere sidekick, too afraid of your explosive personality to even demand to know what happened.

It's almost like you asked for it, to be left alone, to not deal with anyone but your own judgment.

So when you cross the hallway to your dormitory dreaming about a warm shower, you don't expect to see him inside, your relationship with Homelander being too sporadic to even catalog it as one. Yet he's there like it's his house, and you're too tired to even ask why he's there in the first place.

"There you are," he says, but you hear his voice like he's talking miles away from you instead of the couch where he really is. "Something was telling me you were having a rough day."

"Don't remember anything about inviting you to my room" he doesn't care about your tone as he walks closer to you, usually, when he speaks, he only seem to listen to himself. "Didn’t give you a key."

He's oblivious at your words, instead, he seems to be too lost in his own way of seeing things, just waiting for you to say something similar to what you’ve already said in his mind. To admit something like you missed him all day long, that you've been thinking about him as much as he's thinking about you, to fed his ego like only you can do after only a few times of sharing intimacy.

The air is thick, making it harder to breathe as he plants himself in front of you, blue eyes scanning your face as his fingers touched your hair, toying with the strands glued together with blood — Even if it’s gross, he don’t seemed moved by it, mainly, you think, because he’s been through the same too.

"Don't need a key to show up," he laughs like it's obvious, and you look at him like he's having a rougher time than you. "This is my building."

It's almost a reminder for you, that you're living under his roof and have a place on his team because he just wants to. Even when you always do the dirty job no one dares to do, if you save his ass more times you can count, he still remarks you’re living in his world.

“I know,” you fight the need to roll your eyes to the back of your head while responding. It’s something you remind yourself sometimes, how most of them are just plain stupid, always treating you like you were no better than fucking Deep.

The stink under your nose is annoying and your skin feels sticky at the touch so you’re almost begging for just ten minutes of privacy.

“I just missed you” he says in a low voice, almost ashamed of admitting something he would never even dare to say out loud, a sudden verge of vulnerability, strange raw honesty as he looks at you. “Didn’t you miss me too?”

You know the only way of really control him, how to make him do exactly what you want to do, so you let him. Let him act all needy and weird cause you want John wrapped around your finger, unable to think on his own. You want him to believe, whole-heartedly, that in the end he’s the one coming up with the great ideas when it's you every single time.

You don’t find it cruel, he’s the same with you and he deserves it, so when Homelander bites his middle finger to grab the fabric of his gloves and pull it off, you let him touch you, treat you like this lost-dove-in-trouble he loves to see — “Had an awful day. Just wanted to see you,” like that. The correct combination of words and he looks like he got fucking shot by a celestial force, mesmerized. “Always missing you, babe.”

He’s sold by the moment, that tone you use, that little nickname that gets him, the sound of your heartbeat slightly faster than before, not enough to catch you lying, but enough to show you’re indeed, happy to see him as well.

He's pleased, so the next is unexpected to say the least, and you hate every second of it when he carries you like you two are married or something similar, sitting in the sofa with you on his lap.

“What are you-”

He shushes you, and you cannot finish what you’re saying when he pulls you to his chest, the fabric of his suit against your cheek as he, weirdly enough, hugged you close, the sound of his heartbeat instead, loud against your ear as you can feel him breathing beneath you, an steady rhythm as the silence filled the room. It's weird sometimes, to think he's human as well before the compound V.

“Comforting you,” he says in a low voice. His bare hand now grabbing your tight enough to bury his fingers in the covered skin, squeezing it lightly as first, nothing you cannot control. And it's beyond doubt what he truly wants, the way his nose inhales the scent of your body like it's fuel, the blood mixing with your fragrance — "M' here now."

He likes it almost more than his own smell. Almost is the key, cause he cannot help but wish you'd stink like him after waking up next to him that very same day. The thought wakes something new in the alleged superhero, something that stings in his stomach, plaguing his mind with the thought of getting all that he wants, to mark you as his property as he has done before.

He cannot get enough. Of course he can't, he's used to have it all now, to never ask but take. That's why he bites your shoulder, why he didn't mind getting his hands dirty with you and your sticky suit, why he's not grossed out by anything, but instead, turned on by how much you needed him.

But in reality it's the other way around, cause Homelander's the one that pulls you closer, that kisses you like you're something heavenly, just like he is. He's not gentle, yet he knows you like it that way, that you're into that rough force he's used to and would kill any normal person in result.

"Who let you go on that mission on your own, huh?" He asks, concentrated in your suit, pulling it down slightly just to reveal the naked skin under the fabric, clean skin in contrast of all the red. "Seems like they all forgot we're supposed to work together."

You don't get why it feels so nice at first, why the hand on your hip moves through your body like you need some kind of reassurance after all you went through the day.

"I'm okay" you manage to say, the pure need to remind him you're good enough to make things on your own, some kind of memo that explains clearly that you want the same benefits he has. It's useless however, when he has you like that, making you tilt your head to the side, placing random bites in any sight of exposed flesh.

"You're hurt" he says, making you aware of your own body as he presses one hand against the injury on the side of your ribs. He's fucking sick for it, and it doesn't give you any time to react when his fingertips are pushing against the cut, your suit staining with your own blood as you mewl on top of him. "Clearly hurt."

He's drunk on depravity, lost on the face you make when the pain hits you all sudden, stealing the air from your lungs. He's suddenly hard beneath you and his hand's now rest on your hip making you move on top of him, hungry for anything he can get out of you, any little sound you make so focused on keeping quiet, trying so hard to not to fed on his bullshit.

The friction is unbearable, the fresh blood coming out of your now-opened wound, the slight force he uses to tear your suit apart like its nothing, giving him more space to work with as he seemed desperate to have you close. It takes you far from where you were first, the numb feeling that grew like a parasite your stomach swallowing it all, now instead, too sensitive to his touch.

Yes. You hate him for it, hate that it's too easy for him, the traumatized hero with too many issues, the world's strongest man that somehow manages to make a mess out of you just with something so simple as sitting on his lap.

He's so pleased when you moan, when you say his name and you forgot about mannerisms, he needs to pull out his other glove in response as his blonde hair falls over his face, throwing it to the floor as his bare hand is now able to rip apart your suit effortless. The warmth of his palm cups your now bare breast for him, and he leans into your chest, tongue flickering in circles over your nipple as you let out a strangled moan.

"Common, need you to use your words here," he demands for a moment, almost annoyed as you can see the traces of saliva that connected you to his mouth: Why does he look so good? Fucker. "Cause if you don’t stop me now I’ll reduce your suit to ashes.”

“Don’t care,” you know Ashley’s going to be pissed, yet it's not enough to say anything about it. "Fucking hate the suit anyway."

"Such a dirty mouth" you're tugging his hair, hand on your kneecap pulling it slightly to the side as he forces you to open your legs for him. "What can I do with you?"

There it is, the ripped sound of his hands tearing the rest of the fabric apart, the pliable desperation in his touch, grabbing, kissing, and palming the curves of your body as it's holy terrain, unstudied land. He's caught in the smell of your skin finally mixing with his, the way your hips grinded in need for a deeper contact.

He laughs at you, laughs at that sight of defeat when he finally slides the hand that was on your knee under the ripped leavings of your now-destroyed suit. Of course he fucking loves the way you're speechless all thanks to his efforts, that you're unable to keep still as you straddle him now confident he's not repulsed by your dirty nature.

"Did you get turned on by killing?" He asks, and you try to respond something like he's clearly dumb. "Been smelling you since you've got here. All wet, covered in blood."

He's far from lazering you, but you can feel the weight of his gaze almost trespassing you when his hand finally reaches that nice spot between your legs and feels your drenched underwear beneath his fingertips. He can feel it all, and you are aware of it.

He's driven by the sounds of your heartbeat, the way your skin glimmers with sweat, he knows you're enjoying every second of it, his fingertips fondling on top of the cloth moments before pulling it to side. The warm contact with your cunt is enough to make him lose it, enough to make him succumb beneath you as he explores the folds of your aching core, his other hand holding your hip just to keep you in place.

John seems to forget, always does. Cause his grip turns beyond bruising and you can hear the crack when he moves you against his hand, a new broken bone to added to the list as he's unaware to the sound it produces, the pain that makes you shake violently blending immediately with pleasure.

You can take it. You're tough and a big girl who's taken worse, so you don't whine about it knowing you must be healing already, instead, you let yourself be trapped in that haze he created, the sounds of your sex when he hits that very spot you overly-enjoy, digits slightly curving inside as he’s experiencing the velvety feeling of your walls colliding against his hand.

"That's it, keep the show for me.” He loves praising so much since you told him he’s doing good one time, he needs to do the same for you at the first chance he got while you offered yourself to him, riding his fingers. “Such a good slut.”

He’s concentrated in the way his fingers disappear inside of you, the intense smell of blood and sex that now fills the air as you moan out his name, the red droplets in your face much like freckles, far more wicked than pure marks on your skin.

“So nice, so warm,” he says to himself, the slick sound of your arousal filling the room, his teeth scraping the sensitive skin of your chest as he marks your skin like you’re all his.

He’s sure he’s alleviating your problems, sure he’s making you feel so much better, thumb tracing circles in your swollen bud as he stole cries of pleasure from your parted lips.

You don’t let him know you’re close but he can sense it, the slight change in your breathing each time more erratic, your heartbeats quickening their pace as you got closer to the edge.

And when you really finish, when you’re done riding your high, you grab the remains of your teared suit and look at him with that damn smile he loves. You know he’s expecting to receive anything back, any favor you’re willing to give in return.

But instead, when you got off his lap, you just caress his cheek gently before saying — “See you later, John? Kind of busy now.”

my masterlist

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realityescapedd · 11 months ago

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hii i love ur writing and the k you for the noir fic!! there’s not enough content for the boys and i appreciate it so much!! can i request jealous homelander x reader? tyia!

♱ — rapacious — ♱

A/N: I was itching, with no craving to make a homelander fic, and ideas just ran through me, but thank you anon for requesting this, and letting my devious idea run free. P.S. Im not sure bout that black noir fic, this was asked in July, but yk thank you for still requesting <3. Btw H/N is hero name.

WARNING: oral sex, p in the v, no condom we fuck raw, creampies, non-con, tw: homelander, gagging, cursing, non-con, threats, forced breeding and nudity.

PAIRING: jealous! homelander x reader

WORD COUNTER: 2.1k

Life with Homelander was great, something so great that it makes you go insane, crazy...good crazy may be bad for some, but you could take it, right?

Vought, was another thing, watching over your shoulder and making sure everything went well, I mean with you there were a lot fewer casualties than usual. Soon things got less complicated with Edgar and Madelyn being gone from Vought, basically Homelander leading the company with Ashley as a puppet.

It was chaotic per se, where Homelander's watching eye was everywhere in the building. His leadership didn't make anything better but worse. With the seven keeping on being replaced and disappearing mysteriously, surprisingly you were still there with the same everything, no new rebrand, no nothing just staying in place.

You didn't mind it at all, I mean you still had a job and were still getting paid. Even with the weird shift of Black noir, instead of his quiet demeanor, he was talkative which was a change. It was evident it wasn't noir and everyone in the seven knew it, but nobody questioned it. You didn't mind but preferred the change, and even started talking to him.

He was a little better than old noir, not in combat but in being amusing, even spending time with outside meetings and regular superhero activities.

"So how the fuck did you manage to even fly like that?" You asked while you walked with him down the hallway,

"I have no idea, it just happened?" Black Noir II shrugged, you nodded at his words as you took a sip of the peanut butter frappuccino from Vought's cafe, it was a plus that he wasn't allergic to peanuts like the old noir. It wasn't a glow-up from the old noir but a plus. You two chatted as you got into the elevator, it was abruptly stopped by a red, white, and blue cape fluttering into wedging between you both, making you step back, it was Homelander.

The atmosphere immediately got tense than it was once a carefree mood, it was quiet.

"Good morning Homelander," you said, it was met with a nod from him, "Morning Sir," Black Noir said to him, only for him to glare at him, "Don't fucking talk" Homelander ordered, clearly annoyed that he was talking.

It was suffocating being in the elevator, you just took a sip of your frappuccino, praying for the elevator to open up quickly.

Guess your answers were answered rather quickly, as the doors of the huge elevator opened to the meeting room, the giant seven table in front of you.

The Deep, Sage, Firecracker, and A-train were already in their seats. "Good morning sir" The deep stood up, saluting him which made you laugh a little. You immediately took your seat next to Firecracker, and the meeting started. It was a blur to you, something like finding the leak in Vought, which you had many questions about.

The whole meeting was led by a different Sage, your eyes flicked towards Homelander, he was staring at Black Noir. You averted your eyes away,

God, you have to pay attention more often.

You couldn't help but take a sip of peanut butter frappuccino, "Would you fucking stop" Homelander's voice interrupted Sage's presentation, all attention was at him and he was staring directly at you.

"Um...Sorry" You hesitating looked back at him, and you felt eyes on you. You couldn't help but your heart to beat faster,

You watched Homelander rubbed his head in annoyance, closing his eyes before staring to you, "Could you slurp any louder?" He said, his voice dripping with annoyance and sarcasm.

"Sorry" You muttered, putting it back where it was,

"No..nope" Homelander repeated, he pointed at you again, "Be a good girl and put it in the garbage" He snapped. You looked around, with everyone staring at you, "Okay" you responded, slowly getting up from your chair, taking the cup in your hand, and throwing it in the garbage before sitting down.

"Good"

With that statement, the meeting continued on, with your face heating up in embarrassment, as you sank further into the chair.

Sage's voice engulfing your thoughts,

You got interrupted by a note being thrown at you, it was obvious it was from Noir that somehow got to you without Homelander looking, you grinned a little bit, secretly opening up the crumbled piece of paper.

[I'll buy you a new drink after the meeting] - Noir

You read the note, before turning your attention to him and smiling, quickly putting the note in the pocket of your suit before Homelander can see it. Combing your hair back and leaning back into your chair.

Soon the meeting ended, getting up from your seat, and everyone else was doing the same, yours scanned and the room soon landing on Firecracker still in her seat. But you didn't care much to ask why, but more excited to hang out with Noir after this awkward meeting.

"Everyone can go expect H/N" You heard Homelander's voice mentioning your name made you freeze. You stopped where you were, "You can go Firecracker" Homelander turned to her,

"But..um Homelander sir—"

"You can go," Homelander said again but in a more threatening tone, "Now" After he said she scrambled out of the meeting room.

Soon it was only you two left in the room, you watched hesitantly as Homelander turned to you. "Y/N, we need to talk," Homelander states, you could hear his voice straining, with concealed anger.

You looked up at him confused, "About..what?" You asked.

You watched as he walked around you, his pace was slow, you listened to his footsteps echoing around the empty meeting room, before he stopped suddenly, " Do you think I'm just stupid?" Homelander said, his tone catching you off guard.

It wasn't confusing that Homelander was speaking to you in anger, you rarely got him angry knowing you both were together and your relationship wasn't publicized due to his status.

"No, definitely not John," You replied, using his name instead of his hero alias, made him freeze before he stared at you.

Jealously was gnawing inside of him when he looked at you, "Tell me...are you fucking him" Homelander snapped at you, your brows knitted together in confusion at his words. "No, we're just hanging out—why would you ever think that?" You stuttered over your words, as Homelander walked closer to you.

He reached out for your face, harshly grabbing your chin with his hand, tilting your face to meet his eyes. You felt his glove hand digging into your face, his eyes closely turning red, you just felt fear, you were terrified. You knew he could smell your fear, and hear your rising heartbeat. "John...I would never cheat on you, I'm yours" You entreated, trembling under his grip.

Finally, his grip got looser and then he dropped your face, making you stumble a bit.

"Then show me," Homelander said,

You were confused about his words, "What?"

"If you love me..show me" Homelander sat down in the seat in front of you. It took you some time to process his words, confused at what he was saying, "Come on, strip for me" signaling towards your chest.

Your brows furrowing, "Come on, if you don't do it" Homelander leaned in his seat, "You won't like it if I do it" He finished,

"Now strip" He repeated, his tone more irritated.

You took a breath in and started undressing. Unzipping your suit, feeling the cool air on your bare skin. Your suit falling on the marble floor echoed through the room, leaving you in your bra and panties.

"Bra and panties too" Homelander eyed your chest.

You comply, putting your hand behind you and clipping your bra off, discarding it on the floor, and stepping out of your panties, leaving you fully naked in front of him.

"Come here" He patted his lap, "Crawl" he pointed at you. You sank down to your knees and crawled towards him and stopped in front of him. "Come on, you know what to do" You felt his hand on your cheek, stroking it.

You looked down at his growing member in his pants. Hesitatingly looking up at him through your lashes, as you started to undo the bottom of his suit revealing his cock, you looked up at him, "Use your mouth" You leaned in and inched his cock into your mouth, before taking him whole. Homelander moans out feeling your warm mouth enveloping his cock, feeling his hand gripping your hair making you wince.

You slowly bob your head down on his length, his grip on you getting tighter. Your ears perched up at his straining voice barely containing his whimpers as he watched you intently, taking him whole. "Fuck, your good at this" Homelander groaned, jerking you away, taking his cock out from your mouth. Staring at your disheveling appearance, spit dribbling on your chin.

His hand still fisting your hair, "Your pretty when your like this" Homelander chuckled, before forcing you down his cock, making you gagged. Tears prick on your waterline, saliva staining your chin, his grip never loosening as he abused your throat, thrusting into your mouth, the sound of slick, the sounds of wet suction filling up the room.

His pace turning frantic, fucking your mouth.

Homelander threw his head back as waves of ecstasy washed over him. His hips buckled uncontrollably as he lets out a guttural groan, filling your mouth with his cum. "Fuck, ..." He pants, chest heaving, before he gripped your face, "Be a good girl and swallow it" He threatens, feeling the hot liquid going down your throat, swallowing it.

His grip loosening and releasing you. You panted for air, feeling his gloved-hand stroking your cheek. "Now, stand and lean over at table" Homelander ordered, as you got up from the floor and obeyed his order, propping yourself on the table, and bending yourself over the glass. You couldn't help but to feel excited for the pain, the slick dripping down your legs. You waited in anticipation,

Before feeling his cock stretching you out, biting down at your lip at the simmering pain, arching your back. His hands on back of your waist, "Fuck" you mumbled, gripping the end of the glass. Before he thrusting into you, "You think Noir would please you like I do" Homelander growled into your ear, his breath warm on your skin "N...no" you mumbled, feeling his cock tearing you open, feeling himself stretching your cervix.

His ministration was more painful next than the next, feeling his cock stabbing you over and over again. The sounds of flesh slapping filled the room, letting out a gasp, your voice wavering in pain. His thrust driving deeper into you, clenching down on his cock, feeling his grip digging into your skin.

You hated how you were slowly enjoying this, feeling yourself coming close to your climax. Your body tensing up as you feel your skin warming up,

His hips stuttering against yours, "Fuck, I'm close" You felt his hands stroking your hips, "What if I just cummed inside you, breed you myself, have my kids, and have a family...then ill have you to myself" He whispered,

You felt your heart in your throat, "Pull out" You tried to get away from stone grip, "Homelander, please" You begged, only for your face to be shove down on the glass table. Scrambling underneath his grip, just to get him off you. "please" you cried.

His pace getting frantic until he thrust into you for the last time, feeling on cue your body shuddering as he came into you. Feeling himself spilling inside you, making you freeze on the spot.

Feeling him finally pulling out of you, leaving you there stunned. He kissed your shoulder, the kiss feeling lingering on you.

You heard the sound of him putting his pants back on. He stared at you before walking towards you, before sighing, you turned your head to him, "I forgive you, you know" He said, his hand behind his back watching your pitiful form,

"Just don't do it again" he pats your head,

"Now get dressed, we have a date" He smiles, listening to his footsteps descending from you.

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realityescapedd · 11 months ago

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speak your TRUTH 🔥🗣

hes literally my craziest 'hear me out' fr-

holy shit...

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realityescapedd · 11 months ago

Text

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Seven x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader is insensitive and an asshole since they're also a supe working at vought, your powers are the exact same as Deadpool (even the skin condition), mention about killing, death, gore, r-pe, n@zis?!?!, alcohol, some intimacy (?). Also reader is gn!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the boys <3

HOMELANDER

This man hates you so fking much

Has tried to kill you multiple times, he tried lasering you, tearing you in half and even throwing you into the sky but you just always manage to come back like the damn plague

Eventually he gives up trying to kill you and just had to deal with the fact you'll be kept alive... just temporarily though... he's still looking for ways to kill you

However, your powers gave you dozens of advantages when around Homelander.

He can be having a meeting about something serious and everyone would be listening to him due to their fear towards him, then there's you who'd be doing your own thing and just shout out unrelated things like "Donald Trump just blocked me on Twitter!! HAH!! SUCK IT CORNFLACKS!!"

Everyone turning to you with startled expressions while Homelander simply rolls his eyes before continuing his presentation.

You are a complete nightmare to the PR team, that's why for interviews or any events, you'll always be paired up with Homelander so he can keep you under control and stop you from saying weird shit that could ruin the company's image.

"So Deadpool, how does it feel being in the Seven working alongside Homelander? You've been working together for almost 3 years now" A reporter would ask as you two are surrounded by screaming fans.

"Like I'm in the twilight series, not because of the fantasy but because I'm still waiting for the part where he impregnates me—"

"O-kay! That's enough, just silly ol' Deadpool with those inside jokes"

"You can tell in this eyes that he wants to fuck me right now. HE'S GONNA FUCK ME!!" You shouted as you're being dragged away by him.

Obviously when you had found out about his relationship with Stormfront, especially her background, you had to say some shit about it. Not giving the slightest care about the fact he could be grieving over her death.

He'll be in his room standing in front of the window and you'd just storm in, being as loud as possible.

"I can't believe you dated a N@zi!! Is it because I'm Jewish?!" Which may or may not be true, nobody knows your origin.

He may hate your guts but if he ever needs someone to help him do some dirty work, you're the person for the job, you never ask why or how, which could be the only thing he likes about you.

"Y'know, maybe if you didn't have such a big mouth, you'd be tolerable"

"All the people I've slept with have said otherwise"

Compatibility? 50%

STARLIGHT

Before she joined the Seven, she had an image of what kind of person you were, she just didn't know it was this worse.

When you found out she used to work at this Sunday School Church, you just haaaaad to say something about it.

"So like, you say that prayer always works, but every night I pray for my hair to grow and it never does. Do you think God has me blocked? How do I get unblock?"

"Uh..."

You two surprisingly get along without one wanting to slice the other's throat, except sometimes the things you say can really piss her off. Which is why when the company assigned her a new costume, she was trying her hardest to avoid you, but you found out anyways.

"Holy shit Starlight! Nice costume, is this your Miley Cyrus breakthrough? Girl power!"

Insert her groaning out of annoyance.

Again, the second you discovered she was dating a guy behind the death of Translucent, you were heartbroken :(

"Of course this happens right when my therapist gives up on me!"

Despite your behaviour, you pitied her when it was revealed that she was taken advantage of by The Deep, so like any good friend, you took revenge by cooking his friend octopus and eating it happily in front of him.

"Revenge does taste sweet" You'd say happily while Starlight just watches by the side, both grateful and horrified at your actions.

In my opinion, you would definitely be the person she goes to once she starts working with the boys, you'll always be providing whatever information that happens in the company for her to use.

It helps her worry less about getting anyone killed 'cause you literally can't die.

Compatibility? 60%

QUEEN MAEVE

You're half the reason why she rethinks about her life choices when she wakes up in the morning

Not because you're a handful (which you are) but because you're always paired together on missions

"Deadpool! The hostages!"

"OKAY! God... you act just like my drunk uncle"

Which is a joke/nickname you like to address her by because of her alcoholism (yikes)

Whenever the company needs you for something, half of the time she's the one assigned to search for you.

There was this one time she caught you trying to have Anika track down Kanye West's location, nobody knows what shenanigans you were up to.

Another thing to mention was that you two were chosen by the company to sing a Christmas song for the year's Christmas ceremony.

Just imagine during the bridge of the song, she's singing normally while you're completely going off, your high note so high you were sure you had Mariah Carey a run for her money.

Even though she finds you a lot to deal with, you're actually her buddy to train with.

Since you're very skilled with Katanas, she likes to practice her swordsmanship with you.

You like to tease or make fun of her everytime she fails to strike you which is good motivation for her to get better. Maybe you guys bring out the best of each other?

Last thing I'd like to add is when she was found out by the public that she was a lesbian (She's bi but you get the running joke), you had gifted her a t-shirt that says, 'Biggest Dick in Town'

Compatibility? 80%

THE DEEP

Your human punching bag

If Vought was a high school instead of a company, you'd be the bully and he'd be the nerd getting stuffed inside the locker room.

For example, Homelander could be confronting Starlight about her relationship with Hughie and everyone would just start raising their voices til you come in yelling "SHUT UP!" to the Deep who had not said a single thing during the entire time.

Just imagine him staring at you like 😐

To be honest you also ate his friend octopus so you guys are actually never getting the chance to make up.

"Look dude, I don't appreciate your tone"

"I don't appreciate your haircut either but we can't all get what we want"

You may be a crazy person but you weren't going to be okay with the fact he violates every woman he sees, so not only did you cook the octopus but you also called in a male stripper disguised as a woman just for him to celebrate on his birthday.

Just imagine him all happy when you tell him the news and later that night he'll run inside your room, completely pissed off at your act after finding out but you just laughed and said.

"Happy April Fools 😚!"

"That's next month dipshit!"

Also, you never understood his weird fantasies. He has a thing for sea animals??You've caught him multiple times either flirting or getting off to one. It was concerning even for you.

"From how many animals you've fucked, you might just turn from the ocean's 'Seaman' to 'Semen'." You joked which he did not find funny.

Maybe you messing with him could just be your way of getting along with him since you're the same with everybody else, it's just he has more flaws to poke fun of and he's sensitive about them.

Compatibility? 5%

A-Train

He thinks you're fucked up in the head.

Half of the shit that comes out of your mouth just has him reacting like in the GIF

Buuuuuut you're the one he always brings to the club because you always know ways to give the party life.

You've somehow even got on the wall of fame, a lovely portrait of you with your hands making out a heart.

Also, you know about his business with Compound V waaaaay before anyone else did. He's still grateful you didn't tell anyone.

Just like everyone else, you also enjoy messing with him except he's fast and constantly avoiding you.

"Hey A-Train, how much do you wanna bet that I can die faster than you?"

"Dude... seriously?"

You guys rarely get sent on missions together because you're always slowing him down, not basing off the fact he's fast but because you get easily sidetracked with other things.

"Alright, we're here now, how much C4 do we use?"

"Fuck math! Let's use all of 'em!"

You ended up detonating all of the C4 on you before he could object the idea, he was able to run out in time, your action nearly getting him killed while you ended up dead.

But it's fine you'll just grow back.

You know that race he has against Shockwave? You'd be at the VIP section standing near where Homelander and Queen Maeve is, waving your huge banner that has a picture of A-Train's face and yours pasted over a figure carrying the other in bridal style.

Compatibility? 55%

TRANSLUCENT

He makes people paranoid but you make him disgusted.

There was this one time he was bored so he snuck in your room to see what you were doing.

At first he was confused why you had so many cute plushies but then the more he explored your room, he realised your room is basically every collector's dream.

You even had a huge teddy bear in the corner of your dressing room.

The reason why he doesn't like to spy on you is because the last time he did, he saw you putting your hand in the blender, then proceeding to put your private part into it.

Never again, he thought, never again.

He doesn't need to witness you carry out your intrusive thoughts.

Surprising enough, you're close with his son, I'd like to think that after his death, you practically became the kid's godparent. Though you can be sort of a bad influence, leading up to how he is in Gen V.

You always tell him you hate kids but he thinks otherwise.

After all, he can read people well.

You guys like to pull pranks on each other since you guys like competing on who's more sneaky

There was this one time, you woke up to find your suit gone so you ended up walking around the building, completely naked and unfazed by people's stares.

It was when you walked around the corner that you found your suit worn by someone else, turns out it was Translucent under it.

"Why is it so fucking tight dude? How do you stay in this shit all day?"

"You get used to it"

Compatibility? 85%

BLACK NOIR

Lovers.

He doesn't mind your attitude because he actually can't say anything about it.

No seriously... he can't talk.

But hey he's got a good shoulder to cry on.

"I just... hffgh... I can't believe my album didn't surpass lady gaga's... She doesn't even know how to use Katanas like I do!" You'd let out a loud sob while he just stares at you for a while before placing a hand on your shoulder, patting you gently.

You know the scene where he's playing the piano for one of the company's party? You'll be laying down on top of it and singing in your usual overdramatic high pitched voice.

He finds your humour amusing so he always does this little head tilt like in the GIF when you say some weird shit while waiting for his response.

Since both of you are the only members of the Seven that wears a full body suit, obviously you had to try on his but since it was impossible to achieve that, you just had the company make a copy for you.

He'll be walking down the hallway doing his normal routine until he notises another person in his suit, the moment you speak and he realises its just you is when he let's his guard down.

"I just got some transplants done to my ass, that's why I look different"

You both are never sent on missions together 'cause you guys don't work well, pretty much nobody works well with him since he's the silent type.

Example, you two were hiding behind some crates ready to jump on the bad guys who were snucking in illegal drugs. He gestured for you to wait as he went to check again, only to turn back to see you gone.

"Marry Christmas motherfuckers!"

He heard your voice shout and he found you standing on top of the stacked crates, machine gun in hand and began shooting aimlessly.

He didn't even do anything but just watch until you ran out of bullets. However, multiple survived and began shooting at you so you ended running towards where he's hiding at.

"Yankee yankee!" You yelped.

You know the video of the two girls taking off their wigs to reveal that they're bald and they start bonding over it? I'd like to imagine that's you and Black Noir with the skin condition under the suits.

One more scenario I wanna add, you guys could be having a meeting but since you were bored and you always hated meetings, you'd draw a big heart on a piece of paper and show it to Black Noir from across the table. Surprisingly he'd draw a heart back to you.

You were overjoyed so you began to draw you and him doing it, doggy style. He stares at your doodle for a while before choosing to just focus on the meeting instead.

Compatibility? 90%

(This took a while cause I was on vacation)

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realityescapedd · 1 year ago

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ranking jake’s hair eras

- dead last simply because hair doesn’t sit and fall like that

- like why is it defying gravity??

- it’s okay he’s a dad now he’s stressed

- points for existing during his dilf era

- 5/10

- same as before

- this time in ✨ponytail✨ font

- points cuz the hair sits a bit more naturally imo

- battle ready (more practical)

- 6/10

- default look

- back when he was young and cute and stupid

- himbo era 🥰

- nostalgia points

- simple, elegant

- there’s not a thought behind those eyes

- looses points for being plain design wise (basically all avatars have this same hairstyle)

- 7.5/10

- warrior era

- halfway between dilf and himbo, slay

- it looks amazing when he’s flying

- cooler looking than the default look

- still not super original character design wise cuz many na’vi have the same hairstyle

- 8/10

- disclaimer i am not even sure if this is canon or official concept art or even real at all so grain of salt and all that

- istg i need this in avatar 3 and if i don’t get it i will actively grieve

- luscious💞

- ✨majestic✨

- would look amazing blowing in the wind

- i know neytiri got sick of them dreads she don’t want him resembling spider at all

- i may openly weep if we get this look

- need to see it in an actual movie to judge it justly tho

- 9/10

- his best era don’t @ me

- his waist was the sluttiest it’s ever been (how this relates to his hair i could not tell you)

- still a himbo but now smart enough he won’t trip over his own feet

- the light hasn’t gone out of his eyes yet

- he looked so fine in every single scene with this hairstyle

- the flyaways are everything

- the little braids and details 💕

- 10/10 no complaints

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realityescapedd · 1 year ago

Text

Avatar 3 script leaks

Potential spoilers ahead! If you don't want to know anything about Avatar 3, this is not the post for you. And for those of you who have seen the leaks, this is not new info, I'm like super late with this, I'm just trying to compile all the script pages into one post. Plus there is one page that I feel like has not been discussed enough, hence this post.

Spoilers under the read more, you have been warned!

Okay, first of all, yes, I'm well aware the script leaks might be fake to throw us off, or at the very least no longer true because some rewrites have happened. I get it. But, in this post, I will treat them as an accidental leak, so bear with me.

I think most of you are now aware of the first two pages, I have seen a lot of posts with them, so I'm not gonna dwell too much on those. Here are the transcripts, by reddit user hdk759:

Another reddit user, Ereska, was able to transcribe a little bit more from the second page, so combined, these two pretty much give us the whole page:

Right, so Jake and Quaritch have a little talk about Spider, who can now breathe Pandoran air, and for once these two are not actively trying to kill each other, so that's pretty interesting. What is also interesting is that all the kids are also supposedly there, when they rush to a wounded Neytiri (and on that note, where has she been? Who was she fighting?). Neytiri hugs her kids (excluding Spider, might I point out), then we cut to them all returning to High Camp where Tuk and Mo'at hug. And we have seen that scene in the behind the scenes footage, which is another reason why I really don't think the script is fake.

Note: Avatar Theory also did a video on these script leaks and in the comment section someone mentioned Va'ru is an old name for Tarsem, the new chief of the Omatikaya. So it's not a new character, just good old Tarsem, very wise for his young age :)

Onto pages 3 and 4!

These are sadly harder to read, since a lot of the text is covered, but a twitter user AkumuHoshi did their best to transcribe them too:

There's a lot of stuff missing, but I found this screenshot from reddit user BentusFr which is in pretty high definition and you can read more of the text there:

So we start off with Jake and Neytiri in a Biolab in High camp, looking at Spider, who's probably being looked at by the scientists. Jake talks about how Spider is now in danger and can't stay there, because he will become RDA's target if they find out he can breathe the air, and then Neytiri suggests: "If he is so dangerous [text hidden], you should just kill him." Cool cool cool. Guess she ain't warming up to Spider anytime soon. Jake, understandably, does not like that idea, to which Neytiri replies: "Toruk Makto knows [blurred text, but to me it seems like duty? I dunno, it's one short word, that one made the most sense to me.]"

The rest of the text is too hidden to make much sense of, but we do cut to a different scene - the Tree of Souls. Kiri is trying to connect to Eywa, but gets another seizure and Mo'at has to disconnect her from the tree. And then we have a scene with Mo'at and Kiri, where we find out it was Kiri who made it possible for Spider to breathe the air, and she did so without any sacred trees nearby, she just made the roots to obey her and performed the miracle. She doesn't remember actually doing it, but Mo'at tells her she knows in her heart, and Kiri admits she did it herself. Mo'at then warns her to tell no one about it.

So here's what I want to know, were Kiri and Spider the only ones included in that miracle, or was Jake and the kids, possibly even Quaritch, there to see it? Remember, on the first script page, Jake tells Quaritch "You witnessed it tonight." and then a "long night of horrors and miracles" is mentioned on the second page. So who all knows what Kiri did? Who is Mo'at trying to protect her from?

And finally, we get to the last somewhat readable page, there is still one more that is unfortunately too blurry to be readable, at least I never saw any mention of anything else happening. So, page 5 it is!

I have no idea when the scene on that page happens, could be before the events on the first four script pages we have seen here, could be after. Personally, I think it's before. But it's just a guess. Here's the previous screenshot by BentusFr cropped and rotated to get a better look at it:

As far as I know, nobody has transcribed the text, and it does get more blurry as it goes, but the beginning is somewhat readable, so here's my best attempt at transcribing it:

VARANG WILLS Quaritch's arm to [text hidden] bulging, as his HAND OPENS and he [text hidden]

WAINFLEET takes a [text too blurry for me to read] untangling his head and arms, [can't read this one] He drops two WILD [blurry and hidden text] slams into the first na'vi to him [hidden text]

Another BOLO entangles his legs and [hidden text]

Honestly, from this point the text becoms too blurry for me to read, I do recognise a word here or there, but can't really make out a sentence from that. However, JAKE is mentioned in the next paragraph, so he's probably also there. Varang also goes on to have a bunch of lines that I sadly can't read. But if any of you can make sense of this text, by all means, feel free to let me know!

So it appears Quaritch and Wainfleet (and possibly Jake) get captured by the Ash Na'vi led by Varang. And somehow, Varang is able to control Quaritch's hand. Tsaheylu, anyone? Though probably not very consensual. But the idea of Ash people being willing to use their kuru for taking control of their enemies is quite interesting, and also really disturbing. And barely anyone talks about this! (And yes, I did make this whole post because of this one snippet of script, sue me.)

So why do I think this scene happens before the whole Spider can breathe Pandoran air miracle? The leaked image from Jon Landau's video. You know, this one:

Here's Quaritch talking to Varang, still in his RDA military gear, with Spider, Lo'ak and either Kiri or Tsireya (probably Kiri) being held by the Ash na'vi in the background.

What if this is what leads to Wainfleet showing up to help Quaritch, and Jake and probably Neytiri (and other Omatikaya) coming in to save their kids, they fight with Ash na'vi, Neytiri stays behind which might be when she gets injured, while Jake and Quaritch get the kids out of there. And maybe, somewhere along the line, Spider's mask gets broken, they don't have a spare, he starts suffocating and Kiri saves him.

So yeah. That's my take on it. Thoughts?

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