#but i imagine if you're trying to get into competitive play and you're looking for guidance

[baby-tini]

How would all mikey timeline would react to a reader with cuteness aggression. I mean like when mikey walks in reader would have a cuteness aggression.

Toman!Mikey- He finds you too be just the cutest little thing imaginable. The way your cheeks puff up as you pounce on him with a little feral expression. He doesn't really mind when you get a little rough with him, you're adorable if you think you could ever do any serious damage to him. He doesn't mind you tugging and pulling at him because you're just oh so happy too see him, he thinks it's sweet, just don't do it infront of his subordinates.

Manila!Mikey- He's a little thrown off when he comes home and you're jumping all over him, grabbing at him and stating that you just missed him, but what he's really thrown off by is when you call him cute as grab at his sweater, twisting in his arms as you giggle at him, even going as far as too get a little bitey with him, leaving too have too pull you off, albeit with a struggle, your teeth were in his arm pretty deep, and while he would usually punish you for that behavior, he'll let it slide because you're being cute with him right now/

Kanto!Mikey- Really doesn't like it, simply because he takes it as literal aggression, even if you come off as playful, he's not a fan of being grabbed at and he will end up lashing out; whether that be physically or verbally, it'll depend on how he's feeling that day and just exactly what you're doing to him. While he is more docile on some days rather then others and rarely he'll let you play with him and do as you please, that's quite rare.

Bonten!Mikey- Looks like he hates it but he adores it, like, completely adores it, and while he won't verbally encourage this strange little quirk of yours; he won't do anything too stop you from doing it either. You can kiss and grab at him as much as you please, he doesn't care who's around too witness the somewhat aggressive PDA, it's no ones business but your own and whatever he decides too let you do, whether that be to him doesn't matter, if anyone's thrown off or uncomfortable by it, then they can leave, or he'll just simply have them killed.

Racer!Mikey- He's like a parrot, anything you do, he's doing it back to you, just in tenfold and way more obnoxiously at that. No one can really best Mikey at anything, including a competition over who can more aggressively love on the other person, he's always been the better one at physical things anyway. So when you squeeze him in a tight airless hug, best believe he's squeezing you back and even harder at that. It's his specialty too be annoying, you can't outplay Mikey in his own game, nice try though.

[trident-dragion]

Every Yugipedia tips page has at least one or two of these: "This card can be searched by {20 different cards, very few of which are actually good}" "I saw an anime character do this once" "This card pairs extremely well with {card nobody in their right mind would use in the same deck as subject}" "If you're playing a modern deck and your opponent is playing a deck from 2005, you can try this" "This card has a weakness that can be addressed with this card that has no use outside of that particular case. You can simply just draw it after you have the subject on your field"

[worstloki]

Thor, rambling while Loki reads: --and yes, we are brothers, but I would kiss you if you asked!

Loki, suddenly much less interested in his book: What?

Thor: What?

Amora: *'sneakily' watching with her head peeking over the librarian's desk* HE SAID HE WOULD KISS YOU IF YOU ASKED.

[corollaservant]

Night in the Net // Shigaraki x f! reader (18+)

Synopsis: You find yourself stranded in one hell of a sexist environment: the small town's internet café. Shigaraki's on the night shift. (3.6k)

Warnings: sex with Shiggy basically, mild degradation and misogyny from our fav incel, dom!Shiggy with a twist (no quirk obviously), use of “dollface” (i like it)

A/N: No dark themes here, peace n luv. Also.. yeah he is always linked to some gaming/electronic business ik!! but I like the trope/hc/almost canon.

You'd never imagine this was how your night would end.

Why are you there again? Right, your friends wanted to go to that after party, as if the club wasn't enough. What was supposed to be a night out ended up with you in the local internet café (the only after hours spot) while your friends decided to go to a house party with loud techno music, which definitely wasn’t your vibe. You and your friends lived close and would often call a taxi on your way home, money wasn’t enough for you to ride solo today though—you prayed in times like these that you at least had a job; you wouldn’t have to rely on anyone then. 

You knew pretty much everyone there, it’s not like the town had more than ten thousand residents and considering the age group and schools you’d all gone to, the internet café only had a few unknown members. On today’s shift was none other than Tomura of course, that guy was taking up as many shifts as his body would allow him to, apparently there was this rumor a family member was in crucial condition and they were in need. Tomura Shigaraki was one of these people you had branded as incel. Though hardworking (he kept a house of his own, cleaning and doing all chores by himself while providing for whomever he had), you still considered the guy as one. Now—you know the term is heavy, matter of fact, quite offending and serious as an allegation but it’s not like there weren’t rumors. Rumors he’d bash women and call them prostitutes, try to sleep with girls and trash them to his friends a day later, hating them for anything they did and claiming true love didn’t exist nowadays because “all women are sluts, who need money and validation.” Plus, he worked at the local internet café (should be enough reason), engaging in heated conversations with his friends and fellow streamers. God, one look in their chats and you'd get as violent as possible— (not much, you'd discovered it the hard way). Thus, it was no surprise that when you enter the place, you hear whispers and scoffs.

‘’The hell are you doing here?’’ A voice was heard from within, the café had the computer screens up front, a bar and a couch with TV in the back. Tomura was occupied in the designated bar the place had (you often wondered what kind of needs these people had—all they ever consumed was energy drinks and pre-packaged meals, takeouts were for reasons of competitive market prohibited).

‘’Just dropping by for a couple of hours, will leave soon.’’ You sigh as you take a seat on the couch, not bothering to talk to anyone, it wasn’t like they cared anyway. Loud noise and laughter can be heard all around, a couple of guys swearing and some younger boys excitedly standing above their screens. The store had a 16+ policy, but of course, no one ever checked so kids could practically stare unattended. Tomura also encouraged younger boys to play, such a piece of shit, you think, getting them to learn young. 

‘’Oh my fucking God, a slut just joined!’’ You hear some guy swear, presumably because a girl joined their online server. These guys were so disgusting, you cringe, it was no wonder they were celibate without wanting it. You stand up, you need to kill some time and you're feeling bored, you think about starting a fight with Tomura, how else could you have a little bit of fun?

You weren’t ever necessarily afraid of the guy, even though you had to admit, he looked intimidating. Quite tall with a pale complexion, ashy, dull hair and scars across his face; no one actually knew much about him and whether he was troubled, it’s not like he ever showed to work beaten up or high and usually kept a low profile. The only frightening thing this man had was his smile, it terrified you sometimes as it looked downright evil. 

‘’Getting them to learn young, huh?’’ You ask him, he’s washing up some cups from the previous round of gross gaming guys, who have now left.

‘’What?’’ He responds, not bothering to look up. 

‘’How to not get women, I mean.’’ You sigh as he huffs in annoyance.

‘’You should be grateful I let a female in my store in the first place.’’ He retorts, but doesn’t seem very angry, just ironic. Usual.

My store (you decide to skip over 'female') sounds funny but you choose not to comment on it. 

‘’So how long until you guys close?’’ You don't bother with the vocabulary—it’s routine at this point. It also never ends well and you had a great night so far, why ruin it now?

‘’Two hours.’’ 

‘’Mind if I sit on the couch? I’ll be quiet I promise’’ You ask—technically beg, as you see no other options.

‘’Ugh.. yeah I mind. There’s some guys wanting to use it, I have a group for GTA on the PS5.’’

‘’Seriously? People still play that?’’ You whine but force yourself to continue.

 ‘’Can I sit with you then?’’ It takes strength—but you say it regardless. You came to terms with the fact he was your last resort minutes ago.

‘’Sure. But you need to make yourself useful. Here, take this.’’ He hands you a wet sponge, ‘’Wash these up... carefully, while I go clean the floors.’’ He orders, as if you’re part of the staff (and new on the job apparently.)

‘’Do you actually want me to wash freaking dishes? I just came here to chill, I don’t even bother anyone!’’ You start feeling annoyed with the chores, you aren’t 16 and he isn’t your mom.

‘’You can always leave.’’ The running tap stops and he turns to you, practically shoving the wet gloves on your chest. 

‘’Or...you can stop being a brat and be of use during your stay, I have two hours left.’’ He smiles, that same smile that makes your skin crawl and blood boil as he moves away.

‘’Fuck! My dress, you asshole!’’ A wet patch now covers the too short dress as you glance at the time on your phone. 

Two hours. Two hours until your friends leave and he closes up anyway.

-

Tomura was at least true to his words. Within two insufferable hours of having to listen to appalling conversations between men (hardly to be considered as such), plate washing and the toilet being constantly occupied, the last customers get up to leave. 

You dry your hands and plop down the couch exhausted.

‘’Finally.’’ You exhale checking your phone, your friends hadn’t given you any life signs in the meantime, so you decide to patiently wait, they’d message eventually. Tomura is done sweeping the nasty floors from crumbs and dried Monster remnants, which he still has to mop (for the fourth time, you note and you've only been there some hours). You notice how restless he seems—the guy has been running the whole night after ignorant customers, who had not once shown basic respect for the order of the place yet never complained. Truly a shame he has such a misogynistic mindset, you think. He could get women, if he wanted to. 

It’s around 6:30 AM, when he presses a button to close the store's roll-up shutters halfway. Small light outside makes its way in but the place is still relatively dark, as he places the mop near the wall and takes a seat next to you.

‘’Fuuck, I’m so tired.’’ He sighs, making sure to spread his legs on the couch as much as he can, not caring (of course) about you also sitting on it. 

You always branded Tomura as an incel, that you knew about. But despite that, you now can’t help but feel for him, not knowing much about him at the same time. Sure, he technically isn’t the nicest guy but a look around would show you that he tries enough for a job kicking his ass. You find yourself sympathizing with a man, whose ideals you hate and try to brush these thoughts off.

‘’And why the fuck am I an incel anyway?’’ He asks, his head rests on the couch and his eyes are closed, he is scrunching severely—almost threatening to fall down. And he manspreads. A lot.

‘’W-well– I..’’ You never thought he’d caught on to that, stammering to stand your ground as you continue. ‘’Well, there have been rumors about you.’’ You say, but it doesn’t come off as confident as you’d hoped for. You also realize, it sounds kind of stupid.

‘’Reaaally? And you made sure to believe them, right?’’ His tone’s laced with irony but the way he talks like he whispers in a raspy voice doesn't annoy you anymore. It makes you more... uncomfortable? On the edge? Excited?...what?

‘’It’s not like you don’t claim it yourself.’’ You retort, finally finding some courage. You notice him looking at you as you awkwardly shuffle in your seat.

‘’All I’ve ever said was that I think women are good for nothing. And I still believe that, but I wouldn’t waste more of my time on that.’’ The statement makes you roll your eyes.

‘’How can you generalize a whole group of people, who are literally in no way inferior to you, you can’t tell me you’ve tried—’’ 

‘’Listen dollface, unless you want to change my mind there’s no reason to fuss that much, my opinion won’t change.’’

Unless you want to change my mind?

‘’I-I don’t.’’ You stammer, because the answer and pet name (dollface??) takes you by surprise and he laughs.

‘’Relax, you branded me an incel.’’ He jokes, ‘’don’t want the rape allegations on me too.’’ 

The more he talks, the more your mind races and you curse yourself. He seems..funny? He has a mole under his lips—fuck, it looks cute...He also looks good so (stupid as it is, yes!) you silently want his attention. Why can’t he just look you in the eyes more?

This is so wrong. He must've noticed your lost gaze as he speaks up.

‘’Wanna watch a movie?’’ He proposes and you nod, anything is better than the silence hanging in the air. Silence you caused. For thinking... things about him. 

Of course Tomura ends up choosing the most depressing film anyone can possibly watch in an internet café at 6 AM, Fallen Angels, and the dramatic cuts make it hard for you to concentrate. He at a certain point leans closer to you but you justify it, how else would he be able to see?

During this one scene, the woman pleasured herself with her legs closed, rubbing together and that’s when you feel a soft hand touch on your thigh. The dress you wore rode up, because your legs rested on the table ahead so it gave him the space he needed. The movement made you tingle and your core involuntarily contracted. The smooth fingers teasingly trailed up and down your leg, from your knees to your inner thighs. You didn’t want to look at him—he was too close and the scene seemed endless. But…he went on about it as if nothing was happening. 

Without saying a word, he carried on. A pad of his finger tip dangerously close to your now heated entrance, the images flashing before your eyes lewd, his hand tempting and threatening to reach your already soaked cunt—all this while the two of you hadn’t even shared a kiss. But he doesn't stop, looking ahead and acting like everything’s fine, until he touches your lower lips and you hiss, his finger traces the wet spot over your underwear while you try to move and speak up. 

‘’W–what are y—’’

‘’Shh..’’ is all he says. 

You want to tell him no. But no to what? You like the feeling of his two fingers against your folds. His palm moves your panties to the side and he stuffs them inside—they dampen from the fluids. How is he that quick? You can’t form a response but you’re about to ask him why—

‘’All that and I haven’t even kissed you.’’ He murmurs, gaze still fixated on the television ahead as you moan, when he slowly pumps them within your walls. Fuck, are you turned on by this?

‘’P-please..’’ You whisper, turning to look at him and for the first time, his eyes are removed from the stupid TV, a sly smile on his features as he tears away his hand.

‘’What is it? Want the incel to kiss you? Maybe even fuck you to prove a point?’’ He says and you frown.

‘’I—no, I have to go.’’ You get up, fixing (lowering) your dress—you have nowhere to go but you’ll figure it out eventually. You think staying longer only plays into his cruel intentions and whilst you can’t deny the pleasure he could give you, your pride’s in the way.

‘’You’re not going anywhere.’’ A wet hand clasps around your wrist and brings you on his lap, as he grins; you seem confused at the sensation. You are hiding the TV screen but he couldn't care less, he never paid attention to the movie.

‘’Feel the stain you left, too?’’ He says as he brings your face closer with the sticky palm grabbing you by the hair. You softly moan, noticing the small mole up close and feeling a bulge poke where your bodies meet. You sway your hips in a silent effort to have him initiate a kiss, you feel desperate and curse yourself again internally. He can only smile.

(You were so clueless, walking around in that slutty dress earlier—making him hard like that, did you even know it?)

He’s quick to kiss you, eager for more already, as mouths clash, teeth collide, the need you both have exceeds proper manners. You sloppily grind against him, the friction from a long outline beneath you makes it hard to think.

‘’I’m guessing, you’re really fucking the incel then.’’ He half smirks as he grabs you and repositions you to sit on his now fully hard cock that throbs in his pants; he lifts your dress above your ass and guides your hips sluggishly back and forth—he’s tormenting you and he enjoys it to the fullest.

‘’T-tomura..p-please.’’ You whine, the urge to have him inside you makes you blabber.

‘’Please what?’’ He slides a hand behind your waist, lowering it to find your slit from behind, his fingers pet your cunt and you moan. Loudly. He is tugging at your panties, the fabric annoys him and he wants full access and the words. The words to prove his point.

‘’P–please...fuck me already!’’ You breathe out and he groans to the sound of your voice. 

The ironic remark he prepared evaporates as he quickly pushes you back, just enough to not fall off his lap and quickly unzips his pants, thanking god for not wearing a belt. 

His pants and underwear are sloppily moved down his knees, as his cock jumps with a pop on his lower abdomen, stiff with a weeping tip. Pretty veins throb around it as your eyes widen.

Shit, he’s big, can you take him?

‘’I’d ask for a nice blowjob, dollface, but wouldn’t want the feminists after me.’’ He says as he brings you close, kissing you yet again, a string of spit runs down your jaw, as your hands roam his tangled, uncombed hair. 

He positions you on his cock, one hand snakes around your waist while the other one clings to the back of your scalp and you’re swiftly lifted by the head and pushed down on him, as you let out a scream.

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ He hisses, quickly looking around, the sensation from almost his whole length makes you tremble, he feels too full, too painful...too good.

‘’Shit, c’mon now you got this.’’ He encourages as you hesitantly move up and down his cock, gripping his shoulders and looking at him; he seems more concentrated on the sensation than your body, staring at you while you wrap around his length.

‘’Fuck...dollface, this too much for ya?’’ He tries not to grunt and you give your best not to cry, each moment that goes by turning the initial pain to pleasure—your cunt adjusts slowly and bit by bit to his girth. 

‘’T-tomura... y-yes..it’s too much!’’ You whine, sweat forms in your forehead as his hand finds your swollen clit and circles it while your nails dig deeper in his shirt.

‘’You can take it.’’ He says, he feels you squeezing him in, you bounce with dedication on his legs, making the couch squeak as if on some sex tape—you want to bring yourself even closer. So nasty, aren't you? Acting righteous, only to fuck yourself on his cock like a desperate whore.

‘’I-ugh-p-please..’’ You try to speak but he secures his hand around your torso and sinks (lower than before) down the couch. Two strong hands force you to stay still in the air while he drills himself into you at a steady pace, kind of sloppily too. Both of you moan, the position gives equal pleasure, your clit bumps on his groin and his cock reaches your g-spot with ease.

‘’S–Shit, you’re squeezing way too much, haven’t you been fucked like this before?’’ He sounds annoyed but the stammer in his voice betrays him.

Not like this, you want to say but can’t really speak the words. Your weight falls entirely on him, he doesn’t mind one bit—he loves it actually, this skin on skin contact as he guides you on his cock, it feels surreal. He hits soft and spongy spots inside while you slowly fall apart. 

‘’T-Tomura right there..I ugh—I'm close!’’ The sensation overwhelms you, his eyes are still fixated on your face, yeah I can tell, he thinks. He gets off on your desperation, mouth parted all for him? Your eyes threaten to spill by the way he tears apart your cunt and morals bit by bit.. it’s–

‘’Tomura, aren't you closing yet?’’ Someone asks from outside, interrupting the moment. The shutters only reveal a pair of shoes. 

‘’Yeah, I’m on it.’’ Shigaraki stops composed, cockwarming you in a funny way, while a hand, his hand covers your mouth. Your eyes widen as slick trickles down his thighs in silence.

‘’Alright, see you then.’’ The man leaves and he cusses him out. (''Cunt.'')

‘’We’re not done.’’ He turns his attention back to you and seizes your face, bringing your mouth closer.

‘’Open up.’’ He orders and you do, clenching around him in anticipation.

He spits in it and closes the gap with his index finger. 

‘’Swallow or I won’t continue.’’ You quickly gulp down.

‘’So obedient all of a sudden, aren't you?’’ Sarcasm evident as he gives your ass a solid hit, before starting to get back on his pace, only more rough this time, he longs for your release on him. You’re moving up and down his length, trying to grab anything accessible really, his hair, the back of the couch, under his shirt and you feel your orgasm resurface stronger; the delay highlighted all of your senses.

‘’T-Tomura—’’ You shudder, as his cock hits your g-spot expertly–fuck, this guy wasn't some incel–and your swollen clit has to brush one last time past his groin before you feel an overwhelming orgasm take over. You clamp down his length and moan embarrassingly (Fuck Tomura! I–I'm...too good!) This time he lets you, he needs to hear this.

‘’Fuuck—agh, look at you dollface.’’ He hums, a feminist creaming herself on my cock, he wants to add but it’s too many words and you just came so he wastes no time. He brings your neck close to his mouth and bites on it, teeth sink into your flesh and hands force you all the way down. His cum spills inside and he groans, trying to stifle his moans by biting down the sensitive skin even harder. 

And fuck if that isn’t hot.

He keeps you on him, arms fasten around your waist with cum dripping onto his lowered pants but neither of you bother to care; ragged breaths and the sounds of the film still playing are audible as more light enters through the rolled shutters.

God must’ve been on your side that day because a message appears on your screen moments after you both wordlessly got up and cleaned yourselves in the bathroom. Tomura would have to clean again, you think, as the message on your phone signals your time to leave.

You turn to look at him, he has removed his shirt and small nail scratches decorate his pale back and you..smile. What the hell? Was this..? Oh no—You try to find an appropriate goodbye.

See you soon? Thanks for the mind blowing dick? You aren’t the incel I thought you were? Everything seems embarrassing at present time. 

‘’I-I’ll be seeing you soon.’’ You opt for that, stupid as it is, you still look at him in anticipation. He turns to you, hands on the mop cleaning near the couch and nods. 

Great, you think, that was a disaster. You defeatedly walk (actually stoop to get past the almost closed door) feeling like a hooker after a client, miserable and kind of used. This is always the worst part. 

You feel an arm touch your shoulder, you’ve only taken a few steps in the daylight.

‘’Take this in case you revoke your incel statement.’’

Tomura hands you a piece of paper and quickly disappears behind the store’s shadows.

[anonymousicecream]

Dorm Mate (Karina x M Reader)

College. A living hell. Well, college itself isn't too bad. You're currently a law student at Seoul National University, a 3rd year student. Throughout your life, you have always been the best student in your grade, achieving excellent scores, and you were always set as the benchmark for score to beat by your classmates. So, it isn't a surprise when you felt that the studies in college isn't as bad as you expected. No, the worst thing about college, that made it a living hell, is your dormmate, Yu Jimin, or as her "fans" like to call her, Karina. The two of you didn't hit it off well, but it got worse when you two realized you were in the same grade and same class as each other. It increased the competitiveness, and because no one ever even reach your level previously, you can't help but admit that you're afraid to lose to Jimin, which gave you even more reasons to hate her.

You thought that it'll be another normal night. It's a Sunday night and you just got back from a family outing in Jeju Island. You landed at Seoul and immediately got back to your dorm. As you got into your dorm, you shouted "Bitch, I'm back", notifying Karina of your presence. You didn't heard any response however, so you decided to do your thing. However, you saw the dirty dishes which you assume was from her. Since you want to be a "good roommate", you decided to clean the dishes, washing them delicately.

After you finished cleaning the dishes, you decided to talk to Jimin, making sure if she's alright since she didn't replied. You walked up to her door and didn't bother knocking, and as you opened the door, the sight in front of you, HORRIFIED you.

"OHHHH YEAH Y/N OPPA FUCK ME HARDER!" You heard Jimin moaned, while laying on her bed only wearing her bra, as she fucks herself with a dildo. It didn't take long before you saw her cum, squirting her cum out intensely as she moans your name LOUDLY, which got you hard. After she finished cumming, she pulled her dildo out of her pussy and threw it to the side, opening her eyes before looking towards the door and saw you.

She shrieked in fear immediately, grabbing a pillow near her to cover her body while also trying to cover herself with the blankets, which she did eventually.

"WHAT THE FUCK WERE YOU DOING?" Karina shouted at you. "Well, what the fuck were YOU doing? I mean, I get the masturbating part, but moaning my name? Really? Do I turn you on that much?" You asked her. You then saw her blush, getting a bit uncomfortable under the covers, moving around a bit.

You noticed this and decided to take off your t-shirt, exposing your toned torso to her, which made her blush more. "Stop." She instructed you, which you disobey. You got on the bed, reaching your way towards her as she starts covering her face with the blanket. However, as you got face to face with her covered face, you took the blanket off, exposing her face.

"Shy, aren't we?" You teased her. "Stop, y/n, please." "No. I'll tell you one thing right now. I wanna fuck you hard, hard until you scream my name for our neighbors to hear." You told her, leaning into her ear, biting it, earning a low moan from her. "You like that don't you?" You teased her, continuing your actions. It didn't take long before she submits onto the temptation by saying "Yes". "Good girl, now tell me how you imagined me fucking you." You asked her, kissing her and moving down towards her jaw and neck.

"You started by playing with my tits, licking them before you ate me out until I cum." She started. "Continue." "I then suck your dick off, before you fuck me from behind. I cum before you, and you flipped me onto my back, fucking me as we cum together, without protection, deep inside of me." She finished explaining as you bit her collarbone, making her groan.

You moved your hands onto her tits, unbuttoning her bra before throwing it to the side. You groped her tits, fiddling with her nipples as you suck her neck and collarbone, leaving lots of hickeys along the way. After you finished leaving marks on her, you moved your mouth down to suck on her tits. You also moved your hands down towards her pussy, inserting your fingers into her, making her groan. "AAAARRRRGGGHHH" She groaned, pushing your head into her tits, making you suck her tits more.

It didn't take long before she starts getting wetter, so you felt enough was enough. You pulled out of her pussy and stopped sucking her tits, making her whine. You moved down, leaning onto her wet pussy, before you licked her pussy and thighs, making her squirm. It didn't take long before you decided to lean into her, sucking her pussy. You sucked it slowly, making her wait impatiently for you. You moved your hands upwards and onto her tits, fondling her nipples as you increased your pace.

She got more unsettled, moving aggressively from how stimulated she was. "I'm close." She moaned, definitely out of words. You moved one of your hands downwards onto her pussy, fingering her and rubbing her pussy as you eat her out. It didn't take much longer before she clenched, squirting her cum out. "AHHHHHH." Jimin moaned. You moved your mouth onto her pussy, allowing her cum to enter your mouth. After she came down from her high, you pulled out of her and stared at her face to face, looking at her flushed, and very beautiful face. She then grabbed your pants, unbuttoning it before lowering it to be met with your hard cock, covered by your tight boxers. She then took the boxers off, exposing your hard cock as the two of you are fully naked now.

She grabbed your cock, placing it near her mouth before you held your hand, pulling away from her as she looks confused. "What is it?" She asked. You ignored her and got to your bedside, opening your drawer and grabbing a box of condoms. She then smirk, rushing to grab the condom from your hands and did so. She opened one of the packs, tearing it open and threw it to the side before rolling the condom on your dick.

"You like my warm hand, daddy?" Jimin teased you, and then and there, you almost came from her teasing efforts and her warmth, but you held through. "Be a good girl and turn around baby, bend over." You instructed her, and she obeyed immediately. She immediately turned around and bent over, setting herself in doggy position. You aligned yourself with her pussy, before pushing into her pussy. You groaned from her tightness and warmth. "ARGH Fuck daddy, you're so big, give me a moment." Jimin groaned, and you gave into her request.

Not long after, she gave you signal to start fucking her and you did it slowly and gently, allowing her to enjoy your cock hitting every part of her pussy. She started moving back, meeting your thrusts midway, allowing you to get deeper inside of her. You held her hips, balancing her on her knees before you start thrusting harder and harder, increasing your pace and thrusts after each thrust. It didn't take long before she starts moaning louder, looking back towards you, enjoying your thrusts.

You moved one of your hands to her clit, rubbing it softly, matching them with your thrusts. It didn't take long before she starts getting tighter, clenching her pussy after every thrust, making it harder for you to get deeper into her. She then grabbed your hands onto her pussy, before whimpering "faster". You nodded, rubbing her clit and thrusting into her faster, while she starts playing with her tits.

You leaned in to kiss her neck, adding more stimulation for her before....

"FUCK!!! AAARRRGGHHHH!" Jimin moaned as she came on your dick. You continued thrusting into her, prolonging her orgasm, before she tapped you, begging to stop. You did a few more thrusts before obeying her wishes and stopped thrusting, just staying deep inside her, kissing her neck and ear. After she came down from her high, she dropped onto the bed, feeling exhausted. You leaned down, kissing her on the cheeks, but suddenly, your cock throbbed inside her pussy. Jimin then looked at you while smirking. "Still hard?" She asked. "Yeah, but I can manage." You told her, assuring her to take the rest she needs.

"No need. I'll handle you." She told you, pushing you off her as your cock pulled out of her pussy, making her groan. You then got on the bedside table, getting a pair of handcuffs before getting on Jimin, who's now on her back, face up looking at you. You held her wrists, handcuffing her onto the bed. You did the same for the other hand, before you align yourself as you entered her.

"AHHHHH!!!" She moaned. You wasted no time, thrusting in and out of her, her legs wide open. "Deeper" She moaned into your ears, and you obeyed. You started thrusting harder and deeper into her, reaching her g-spot as she came on your cock again. This time, you stopped thrusting and instead just suck on her tits as she came. "FUCK, I didn't know it'll be this great." Jimin complimented, which made you smile.

After she came down from her high, you continued thrusting into her at a faster speed, making her tits jiggle up and down. You held her hips, balancing her as you thrusted more into her. She wrapped her legs around your hips, allowing you to go deeper. It became apparent that you're close, mainly from how many times she came on your dick.

"I'm close." You told her. "Me too, again. Cum in me." She told you, and you nodded. You continued thrusting into her, leaning into her ears to bite them as you came inside her. This also triggered another orgasm from her as she moaned LOUDLY, making you cum even more. After the two of you finished cumming, you leaned into her, kissing her. You reached for her cheeks, caressing it as you two continued making out. At the same time, you reached over to uncuff her and once you did, she flipped the two of you over by surprise. She's now on top, with your cock still deep inside her. This made the two of you groan, while still kissing each other.

She raised herself, getting your cock out of her pussy. She took the condom off, throwing it to the side before dropping herself on your cock without protection. "NNNNNNGGGGHHH" Jimin groaned, feeling your size hitting every part of her pussy. You also groaned, feeling her warm and tight pussy. "You dominated me earlier. Now it's time for me to return the favor." She whispered into your ears, making you throb, before she starts riding you. She started off at a slow pace, allowing the two of you to fully feel each other.

Not long after, she increases her pace, riding you faster. You moved your hands around her body, starting from her shoulders down to her tits, caressing them before you moved lower and rested on her hips, guiding her as she ride you. It became clear that she got exhausted fast, probably from the orgasms she had. You decided to held her up, before thrusting up towards her. You increased the pace immediately, thrusting at an ultimate speed, before she dropped and leaned over the two, grabbing your face as the two of you made out.

You then raised her up and pulled out of her pussy, setting her onto the bed before fucking her again in a spooning position. You thrusted into her while placing one hand on her tits and one hand on her clit, rubbing it hard to increase stimulation. She then tilted her head backwards, grabbing your head as she leaned in to kiss you, making out as you railed her. She started clenching, before adding "I'm close." "Me too, where should I cum?" You asked her. "Inside, please. I need your cum." She replied, groaning, out of words. You nodded at her words, increasing your pace and actions before you gave one final thrust before thrusting as deep as possible, reaching her womb, as you cum inside her.

"Fuckkkkkk" You groaned. This made her cum at the same time, cumming on your cock as she kissed you, which made the orgasm all the more satisfying. You couldn't stop cumming, and so did she.

After you two finished cumming, you pulled out of her, before pulling the bedcover and covering the two of you under the blanket, naked, as you two cuddled into the night.

(Next Morning)

You woke up and opened your eyes, and THAT was the sight in front of you. "Morning." You said. "Morning. Last night was..... incredible." She told you, and you smiled. "It was. I'm sorry though, I was quite rough." You told her. "No, it's okay. I like that." She said, smirking. "So, about us, what happens from now on?" You asked her. "I uh, have to admit, I enjoy your company. I also think you're very motivated, handsome and buff, which is basically what I like in a man." She told you. "Same here, so uh, can I court you?" You asked her, hoping for a specific answer. "Of course." She said, making you smile. You got up in a sitting position, kissing her as she replied the kiss.

(3 weeks later)

*UEKKKKKKKKKKKKK

You paused your game and rushed to the toilet, where you saw Jimin puking on the toilet. You rushed to her, rubbing and patting her back as she continued puking. "Jimin-ah, are you okay?" You asked her, giving her water as she drank it. "Yeah I'm good. Just...." She said, before giving you a test pack, showing two blue lines.

"You're pregnant?" You asked, confirming to her. "Yeah. The last time I fucked someone was with you, and we didn't wear protection." She told you, before adding, "Y/n, I'm scared." "Hey, it's normal. I'm here for you, I'll protect you and our baby." You told her, kissing her all over the face, assuring her. "It's okay baby, we'll go through this together." You told her, and she cuddled into your arms.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Injured (Alexia's Version): Future III

Alexia Putellas x Daughter!Reader

Summary: You spend time with Mami

"You know," You say, resting against the bench," Just because I'm now free from my job doesn't mean that I enjoy coming to yours. I'm not six."

Alexia laughs at your teasing, lightly slapping your legs to move so she can sit down too.

You sit up, adjusting your sunglasses on your face as you move.

"You love it really."

You roll your eyes, not that Alexia can tell but you're grinning too and she bumps her shoulders against yours.

Mami's been retired from football for a while now, a player turned manager of Barcelona's women's team. She's on a quest to get as many titles as manager as she did as a player.

Which is why you're here now, at a Champion's League semi-final. It's the second leg with Barcelona already up three nil against Chelsea.

You're not too worried but your Mami is. She knows how quickly a match can change.

It just takes one moment for it all to go to shit.

Mami's a bit intense like that.

It's probably one of the reasons you prefer ballet to sports. There's no competition when you're actually performing. There's some competition for parts behind the scenes but once you're on stage, there is no foul play.

Everyone is trying to do their very best for the crowd.

You couldn't even imagine what it would be like to compete against another ballet company at the same time.

Football has always been a bit too intense for you. It was Mami's passion, even now.

"You're too stressed," You say," Take a day off."

Alexia laughs at you, teasingly ruffling your hair. "Funny," She says," I distinctly remember telling you that a few weeks ago. What was it you said to me? No chance!"

You laugh with her. "Hey! I never said I practiced what I preached!"

"Neither did I!"

It's nice being here with Mami.

Olga's in Madrid with a client and Jaume's on a trip with his school so it's just the two of you in the house right now.

"The girls will be fine," You say dismissively," You're ready. It's only Chelsea."

"Only Chelsea," Alexia repeats with an eye roll," You've not been watching any of their games recently."

You blow her a kiss. "You know I only watch football when you're around, Mami. I'm not Jaume."

Jaume watches football as often as he can, glued to the screen. If he's not watching then he's playing. His dirty football boots lay all over the house.

It's a little annoying, especially when he jumps onto your bed still wearing them.

But you do miss him, annoying as your brother is.

The stadium slowly fills up with fans as you and Alexia sit on the bench together.

You think you and Mami are more similar now that you've grown up. You've always been like her subtly. Her drive and her passion and her ambition.

But you look more like her now.

You've grown into her features, your nose, the curve of your lips, your eyes.

You grin as she pulls you up, grasping your hand tightly as she guides you back inside.

You've got a break for a few weeks before you're back with the company. It's a welcome break, one where you can go back to eating normally and feeling like the world is crushing you.

It's a brutal cycle but one every ballerina goes through.

It's hard and it's horrible but it's what you sacrifice on the altar of ballet.

This break is nice though.

You've got a trip to Mallorca coming up during it where you can just soak up the sun and the sand and whatever fruity drinks you can be bothered to buy.

Just you and the crystal waters.

"Hey," You say to Alexia," I'm going to grab something from the vending machine. Do you want something?"

"I shouldn't..."

You see through her excuses though, waiting her out.

"Just a drink. Sugar free, Bambi!"

"I know!"

You know the stadium like the back of your hand, weaving through the halls to the vending machine you know stocks the best chocolate bars you've ever eaten.

Mami used to buy them for you and Jaume when you were little and the match was over. She used to walk all the way to the rival's end of stadium, still in her kit and boots with you and Jaume following after her like little ducklings.

She didn't even care that the opposing players would stare. She would walk straight up to the vending machine in front of their changing room to get you your favourite chocolate and Jaume his favourite drink.

You could do the walk in your sleep.

Someone's already there though, staring through the glass at it.

It's one of the Chelsea girls.

You vaguely recognise her, one of the older players on the team. You're pretty sure she plays for England too but you're not quite sure because you only watch matches when Mami's around.

"Sorry," You say. You're English is rusty from years of not using it apart from in school. "Are you-?"

"Oh! No, sorry."

You nod in thanks, punching in your choices before paying.

You grab your chocolate and Mami's drink.

She's pretty, this older woman. Exactly your type. If you'd met in the club, you'd probably try to entice her closer but you're at Mami's workplace so you don't.

"I'm not sure what to choose," She says," What do you recommend?"

"The chocolate," You say, waving your choice," The crisps are always stale. Don't get them."

She nods. "Noted."

You go to leave but she still calls after you.

"Hey, can I have your number?"

You lay your cards in the table immediately. "I'm not looking for a relationship," You tell her," I...I'm just not..."

She shrugs. "Can I have your number anyway?"

"You don't mind?"

"I just got out of a relationship. I'm not looking for another one. But you're fit and you give good snack recommendations."

You study her. "I'm y/n."

"Aggie. So...is that a yes?"

"Sure."

When you make your way back to Mami, the Barcelona girls are already warming up.

"You took a while," She says, gratefully taking her drink and pressing a soft kiss to your crown.

"I stopped at the toilets," You reply.

She nods. "Are you still okay with staying down here instead of going to the box?"

"As long as you don't yell at me if it goes wrong then yeah."

"I'd never yell at you," Alexia says," I've been told that having you down here actually makes me calmer."

You roll your eyes. "Whatever." You look down at your phone in your hand. "Hey, remember when you worried about me going to Mallorca by myself?"

Alexia frowns at the change of subject but nods. "Yes. I still am worried, if that's what you're checking."

"You don't need to be," You say," I've got someone coming to stay with me now."

Sun, sand, sea and sex.

The best way for you to spend your break from ballet.

[themeraldee]

The Lucky Winner

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 8.5k | Homelander x fem!Reader | Pre-season 1. Voice kink. Oral sex. Unprotected sex.

Summary: You're a huge fan of Homelander but you always feel too awkward to ever meet your hero at a meet & greet or similar events. Your friends enter you into a Vought competition, where you've got a chance to win a phone call from Homelander himself.  

Author’s Note: My first Homelander fic! Also, this is the first time I’m publishing my work. Obligatory English isn’t my first language so apologies if there are any strange turns of phrase but I happily take on criticism so feel free to correct me. I want to get better! I’m also not very good with sticking to the right tense. This is very self-indulgent so read with caution. 

You can’t decide whether to hug or strangle your friends. They’re trying to be nice, you get that. But this goes against everything you’d ever do! Lovely as they are, they’ve entered you into a competition to meet your hero. To meet Homelander. The thought alone makes your head spin, your heart pound and stomach twist on itself.

‘It was just 20 bucks, what’s the worst that can happen? You win?’ Reads your friend’s message. You roll your eyes, hearing the teasing tone in your head. They know about your not-so-hidden obsession and at the end of the day they just wanted to brighten their friends day.

And sure, you are a fan. Okay, fine. You’re a big fan. Obsessed even. Every-wall-of-your-bedroom adorned-with-posters-and-promotional-materials obsessed. But you don’t want to appear like that. Last thing you’d want to come across as to your idol, you hero, is an annoying screeching fan begging for his attention.

You don’t want to be part of the crowds pawing at him, inching as close as they can just to graze his uniform with their fingertips. You don’t want to look like a feral fan. You have manners. You don’t want to be just another face, just another adoring fan begging for him to look your way. It’s hard to admit to yourself that you’ll never be more than a fan. So you don’t go to meet & greets. You don’t go to premieres. You don’t pay exorbitant fees just to meet your hero.

You’re a romantic at heart. You always imagine the first meeting to be one for the books. Maybe he saves you from a burning building flying you down, his stars and stripes billowing in the wind as he looks at you with concern etched into his handsome face, his piercing blue eyes scanning you for injuries as he talks to you with a soothing rumbling tone that sends shivers down your spine. You can clearly imagine him going, Are you okay miss?, as he descends to the ground. Or you just happen to bump into each other but he catches you with his strong arms and fast reflexes and just like that it’s love at first sight. Scenarios after scenarios. All varieties of ‘meet-cute’s play in your head on a daily basis. You spend your time getting lost in your head, dreaming of the day when it will be your turn to be the protagonist of the story. When will you be the damsel in distress? But you sigh and move on with life, because this isn’t a romance novel.

Or at least, that’s what you tell yourself (and others) when people ask you why you haven't tried to meet your hero. 

Oh I just don’t want to be a weird obsessive fan. Plus it’s expensive!

Meeting heroes is technically easy. Vought gives people many opportunities to see their heroes for a pretty penny. They parade their heroes around like exotic animals in a zoo on a daily basis. 

For you the reality is that you simply can’t handle seeing your hero up close and personal, let alone talk to him. How are you not meant to get flustered in front of what you considered to be perfection? How are you meant to find your words or even come up with words worthy of being uttered in his presence? You’re meant to look into his eyes, tell him how much of a fan you are and not fluster and burst into tears from the anxiety coiling in your gut as you wait your turn? 

You don’t want that. You don’t want to be just another babbling fan. You want to stand out. You want him to remember you. You want him to think about you.  But you’re also a realist and you know that at most he’ll think you just another annoying fangirl if he even grants you a passing thought. So you spare yourself those hurt feelings and you avoid meet & greets, you avoid all the fan-targeted conventions, events, promotional campaigns or competitions. 

Or you always have. Until now it seems. You again scroll up in the group chat where your friends surprised you with an entry to the newest competition Vought advertised. It was presented as a fundraiser. All proceeds are planned to be donated to Samaritan’s Embrace. A simple $20 entry that would grant you a chance to be one of five lucky winners to get a personal phone call from Homelander. 

A fat chance of that, you thought when you first saw the competition announced on both Vought’s and Homelander’s twitter accounts. With a competition that invites Homelander's country-wide fanbase, there really is no chance of you winning. You half-comfort yourself with that thought. You don’t know where you’d even start should you win. Part of you thinks that maybe ‘meeting’ him over the phone could be bearable as he wouldn’t be able to witness just how badly you’re holding it together.

But then you think back to all the videos you’ve watched. The reels and the tiktoks you’ve saved. The podcasts and interviews that at this point you play almost religiously. He's perfect in every way but you're particularly fond of his voice just rumbling in your ear when it gets nice and low as he talks in lengths about the upcoming movie or his most recent save. A while back you bought yourself a decent set of noise-cancelling headphones with great audio quality and suddenly it felt like he was right behind you just purring into your ears. Very few interviews record with good enough microphones to capture how mesmerising his voice is but those that do get saved and played on repeat sending shivers down your spine, following you to bed and invading your dreams. So no, maybe a phone call wouldn’t make the experience any easier on your poor heart. 

You calm down after the initial panic reaffirming yourself with the reality where there’s no chance that you’ll get picked anyway. You text your friends again, kindly thanking them for thinking of you as you shook your head with an amused smile. That’s that done and forgotten about.

Or so you think. Few weeks down the line the mental discourse has long left your mind. The conversation moves on and your friends don’t mention anything since. That’s why it’s no surprise when you pick up the unknown call after the third ring with ease, casually answering with, “Hello, Y/N speaking.” 

Homelander looks through the list of winners Ashley brought to his desk with a scowl on his face. He’s grumpy, having to jump through everyone’s hoops is grating on him, slowly chipping away at his showmanship armour. This is just another nail in the coffin. Now he has to make private phone calls?

He wants to be revered, loved. With people bending over backwards just to get his attention. Sure, that’s right up his alley. Get the crowds to scream his name, be grateful for his divine presence. What he isn’t a fan of is making others think they’re special. He’s the special one. Where does Vought get off thinking that he’s got the time to call and visit his fans one-on-one.

He rolls his eyes looking through the unimpressive line-up that Vought carefully curated. One of each demographic, trying to hit all the targets Vought wants him to improve his numbers with.

Each candidate has a sheet of talking points assigned to them, things to highlight, mention or even promote to each one of the fans. Normally Homelander would throw Vought’s carefully crafted response straight back to their faces but right now he’s not in the slightest interested in being clever or the fans' idea of ‘authentic’ so he’d rather rattle off a few lines from a curated list of party lines. At the end of the day he doesn’t care for this. Talking to five individual fans doesn’t help him in the grand scheme of things. This isn’t happening in public, there’s no one here to witness his generosity. Nobody to witness a god, looking down and gracing his followers with his benevolence.

Vought believes the individual approach will be worth it in the long run. That apparently fans will come running to any future events and competitions seeing as real people they might know have won in the past. All Homelander sees is at most five twitter mentions from a few nobodys.

He’s got about an hour in the calendar to get through all of these. Though he's banking on this taking a lot less time. There are many more important things he could be doing instead. 

He flips through the files again, each profile is filled out with a name, number and a photo, deciding on the least painful order. A young boy, an elderly woman, a middle aged comic enthusiast, some punk teenager and you. Homelander looks at your profile with mild interest. You’re the only one who Vought didn’t manage to find a good quality recent photo of. Clearly you don’t do social media. Yet the quality doesn’t take away from the intrigue your profile inspired. You’re easily the most interesting in the list but that’s not that hard to do. Still, Homelander puts yours at the end of the list. Saving the best for last.

“Hellooo and congratulations! This is Homelander and you’re one of the few lucky cookies who get to have a little chit chat with me.” All air gets sucked out of your lungs and the ease with which you picked up the phone is gone. Your eyes widen, breath caught in your throat only coming out in confused little stutters. This isn’t real. It can’t be!

Whether it’s a particularly vivid dream or your world is actually turning upside down you’re glad this happened at home. Your knees buckle, your ass landing straight on your bed, your legs trembling with nervous energy as you sit down.

“W-what?” You manage to blurt out, more breathy than not. Your heart is pounding like never before. You wouldn’t be surprised if he can hear it over the phone, it feels loud to your ears.

“The competition? You entered, right?” His voice. His fucking voice was right in your ear and you felt like melting into a puddle of goo. Anything to spare you the embarrassing words that are surely about to come out of your mouth one way or another.

“Oh… um…” You are blowing it. There’s no other word for it. Totally embarrassing yourself. Not able to say a word, still trying to calm your heart down.

“Are you not a fan? Have I got the wrong number–?”

“N-no no! No…I mean yes. I mean sorry…fuck.” You are totally losing it. The hand holding your phone is shaking with nervous energy. 

“Hey hey hey…. Come on now. Take it easy. Now take a deep breath aaand relax.” His voice is rich and sweet like honey, just like you’ve heard on TV but here it feels intimate. Just for you. He’s not talking to anybody else. As he hears your stuttered intake of breath and a mildly calmed exhale he coos again. “That’s it. Breathe with me. Now in.” If only he knew that this is making things so much worse for you. “And out.” 

“I’m so sorry. I meant to say, I am a fan but I don’t do this.” Your voice still trembles with each word but you’re a little more composed. 

“What? Call people?” You can hear the smirk in his voice, he's clearly pleased with his little joke. 

“No.” You can’t help yourself but chuckle, your lips spreading in a wide grin. Your heart is still pounding but it’s more excitement than embarrassment. You’re actually talking to Homelander. And you have already embarrassed yourself beyond belief but he’s still here! He’s still talking to you. He doesn’t even sound upset. “I mean I don’t meet you guys. Heroes. I don’t really know how to do this. I mean I pretty much live on your doorstep and I’ve never met either one of you.” Now that he calmed you down, getting you talking, you can’t stop talking. 

“Really? Some fan you are.” Were you of a sound mind you’d hear the joke but now all you could think is that you’ve upset him. And you can’t have him think that. Sure you’ve always wanted to stand out but not in a negative way! You take it to heart and you apologize.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t mean to offend. At all! Really! It’s just, you don’t need another person begging for an autograph that they can brag with to their friends or sell online for a quick buck.” 

He exhales a little breathy laugh that has your whole body flush hot. “Oh, aren’t you adorable.” The panic that was inflating in you like a hot air balloon finally fizzled out. Instead it’s replaced by a throbbing heat in between your legs and you place your free hand over your heart, almost trying to will your body into behaving normally. “You know if you want I can send you some, would be a shame for such a sweet fan to not have anything personalised. I’ll sign it with your name.” He offers, a nice gesture, really, but you are currently having a whole body meltdown to even appreciate it for what it was.

“O-oh,that isn’t—You don’t have to—” 

He continues nonetheless. 

“Y/N, is it? Beautiful name.” Your name rolls off his tongue perfectly, all soothing and sweet. And there you go, melting into a puddle just for him. 

“You don’t have to be nervous. I don’t bite. At least, not over the phone.” You let your hand trail down your body. He’s just talking. He’s just making jokes. He’s just trying to strike up a conversation to make such a freaked out fan of his a little calmer and there you are getting your rocks off on this. 

“Sorry. It’s hard not to be. I’ve been a fan of yours for a long while. I didn’t expect I’d ever get to talk to you. It’s kind of you to do things like this for us fans. I’m sure you’re busy. Thank you for taking the time.” You distract yourself from the throbbing that’s just calling for your hand to settle heavily in between your shaking thighs. 

“Oh no problem. Wouldn’t be where I am if it wasn’t for all my loyal fans, right?” You should really stop moving your hand down your body. But you can’t help the effect he has on you, you’re not acting normal! 

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s the fame that makes you special. It’s you.” You breathe you all dreamy before realising this isn’t just one of your fantasies. No. You really are talking to Homelander. You cough a little, pretending like you had something stuck in your throat. 

“It is?”

“I think so. Change into civilian clothing and I’m sure you’ll still be turning heads.” You speak normally now but you bite your lip at the end, your hand now just above your pubic bone. 

“Sounds like you’ve thought about this plenty.” Oh, of course you have. Your body is screaming at you to take the plunge, to slip your hand down your panties, and make yourself feel like this is more than just a friendly fan call. But your mind is, correctly, telling you that this is beyond inappropriate. 

“Ah no! I just mean that you’re perfect at what you do. There’s nobody like you. Noone could take your spot. So it’s more than just fans.” You’re surprised you’re still carrying on. You feel like your brain is turning into mush with each word he’s saying. 

“What can I say? I take my job very seriously.” He goes on to talk about being a leader of the Seven, you guess he’s just trying to fill space seeing as you’re such a blubbering mess. Even with all his efforts at making this normal, your brain turns all the innocent words into the filthiest dirty talk.

“Look, I’d love to talk to you some more but I’m afraid I’ll have to end it there. I’m late for a talk show interview.” You retract your hand as if it got burnt and instead you grab onto the comforter you’re sitting on, stopping yourself from doing anything impulsive. 

“O-of course.” Your heart rate is elevated again, something about the thought of him leaving and you never getting the chance to speak to him again makes you want to scream. 

“Tell you what, I don’t want to be unfair to you. You hardly got your prize. I’ll call you later. You free in the evening?” 

“Y-yes.”

“Perfect.” 

Perfect. You’re fucking perfect. Homelander can’t stop the way his lips stretch into a predatory grin. You are exactly what a fan should be like. Swooning over him. Grateful that he’s even bothering to grace you with his presence. You were practically kneeling, bent over before him on the floor, kissing his feet as he gave you a taste of his divine presence. He has half a mind to take care of the uncomfortable hard-on pressing into his rigid suit. He couldn’t help himself when you were being such a sweet little thing. He feels no remorse at having rubbed himself through his suit as you were there on the other side of the phone, undeniably shaking in excitement, all flustered and tense and most certainly aroused. But no, he wants to wait his turn. He needs the real thing. He’s not planning on letting you go that easy.

Originally he was pissed that most of his time on the phone was taken up by the elderly woman who was talking his ear off. Now he’s thinking about sending her a gift basket. He has a real excuse to see you. 

When Homelander wants something he’s like a hunter, doing everything he can to lure his prey into his trap. In this case he abuses his powers to get the Crime Analytics team to dig up your address and in the meanwhile he sits through a mind-numbingly boring interview at a low-tier talk show he really shouldn’t need to waste his time on. 

The only thing that keeps him going is the thought that you might be watching. You seem like a big fan. You surely wouldn’t dare miss out on his live appearances. The thought alone gives him enough drive to not laser through the talk show host everytime she asks a stupid question and instead he imagines he’s speaking straight to you.

When the show is over he takes off before his team can steer him towards another boring chore. No, he has more pressing matters to attend to. Like any good predator he observes. He waits until it’s the right time to strike. That’s why he’s perched at the top of the building that’s opposite yours. He’s got a clear line of sight to your apartment but he’s careful in making sure you can’t see him. 

He watches, his grin reappearing every damn time he sees you reach your phone, checking if your ringer is on for the tenth time. You are an easy target, he can swoop in anytime and sweep you off your feet but he wants it to be perfect. With sick fascination he keeps watching you, your behaviours and patterns as you pace around your room trying to preoccupy your mind with mindless thoughts. He knows that nothing you do can now fill the void that he left behind. What else can replace the purr of his voice in your ear, soothing and exciting you at the same time. Nothing. There’s nobody like him. You said it yourself.

An hour of self-indulgent watching later he decides to end your misery. You just look so upset and disappointed and he knows you’ll just melt in his presence. He needs to be close to you. He got a little sprinkle of what you're like over the phone and now he’s got a craving for the real thing. He needs to feel you, smell you, hear your poor heart trying to keep up with the excitement right in his ear.

So with a quick drop he descends.

The day has gone by torturously slow for you. You spend every minute checking your phone in case your ringer randomly fails you and you won’t catch the second call from Homelander. Just thinking that makes your thighs quiver. The thought of having him purr into your ear any longer wets your panties all over again. But over the coming hours your enthusiasm deflates. It’s getting late and your chances of ever getting a call back are low. 

You emerge from the bathroom, fresh and clean, in your pyjamas ready to sleep today’s rollercoaster of emotions away. Or you would be if it wasn’t for a knock at your balcony door interrupting your thoughts and making you flinch in surprise. The flash of red and blue still so vibrant and colourful against the midnight sky has your breath catching in your throat. What the fuck?!

You open the balcony door in shock, and if you had the strength to do so you would have ripped it off its hinges with pure eagerness. There he is in all his patriotic glory. Homelander. A wide grin on his face, posture ramrod straight as he clasps his gloved hands behind his back, puffing his chest out.

“H-Homelander?!” Your voice quivers at the proximity, your heart picks up speed again and you feel your entire body flush both in embarrassment and excitement. Your first thought goes to how you currently look rather than questioning his motives or how he even found where you live in the first place. 

Trying to regain your composure you shake your head, blinking as if he was just a figment of your imagination. Maybe your devout obsession with him is finally damaging your mental state, making you hallucinate.

“Good evening, Y/N.” God, how does he do that! The way your name slips off his tongue so easily, with such familiarity makes you clench and part your lips with a gasp. Any sort of composure you’ve regained crumbling to dust. Now you are just awkwardly gawking, in awe at the unreal figure in front of you, in the flesh. Homelander doesn’t wait to be invited in, strutting into your modest apartment like it belongs to him, the confident strides of his red boots loud and heavy against the creaky floor of your apartment. He takes up the living space confidently, somehow making you feel like you don't belong in your own space. His presence took priority, anything else secondary—you included. 

“How did you—” Your question of how he found where you live doesn’t even get fully asked, let alone answered. He cuts in, not actually caring about your justified worry over having your address handed out willy-nilly. 

“Our call was a bit too short to my liking. You don’t mind a little late-night visit, do you?” You feel disarmed. His voice turns gravelly, lowering with each word. His tone teasing as if he was telling you a secret, so unlike his television persona where he’s all American apple pie values and open arms with clear intentions. Here, he grinned widely—all teeth with his sharp canines bared to you like the predator he is. Like you’re his next meal. “Ohohoo, would you look at this. Maybe you are my biggest fan, huh?” 

You are distracted by his voice, his presence, just him that you fail to notice his eyes wandering around your apartment. Your face flushes red in embarrassment as you see him assessing your safe space, or what felt like your safe space before this ambush, all with an amused grin on his face. 

“These are all limited edition. Must have cost you a small fortune.” Holding a breath you watch him take his gloves off one by one, placing the leather on your table with a soft thwack. It feels forbidden, not meant for your eyes. The public doesn’t get to see Homelander as anything other than perfect. His image manicured, perfected to the tiniest details. Seeing his surprisingly elegant bare hands, this up close feels intimate yet threatening like he’s unsheathed his sword, revealing one of the many hidden weapons he can use against you. 

You watch as he brushes his fingers against limited edition action figurines, box sets, posters and trinkets featuring his likeness or the logo emblem Vought associates with him. If it was anyone else you’d tell them to keep their paws away from your most prized possessions but it's Homelander. Who else gets the right to touch special limited edition merchandise of his own likeness? 

You watch as he paces the room with an unreadable expression. The embarrassment you feel transforms into an apology, heavy on your tongue as you force your mouth open, letting your shame out into the world. It’s hard not to feel overwhelmed in his presence.

“I-I’m sorry.” 

“You’re sorry?” He turns his head over his shoulder with a curious expression. A swoop of his blonde hair handsomely falling into his face. He puts down one of the figurines he picked up earlier as he scouted the area. 

“All this stuff.” You wave your hand around, the grand display of what can only be described as the Church of Homelander, a shrine dedicated to his divine existence. You see how it looks, how it makes you look like a rabid fan. Though you’re anything but. “I know it’s a little strange. I don’t want to make you feel like a museum piece. Or-or-or a circus animal! I just admire you. A lot.”

“You do?” 

“I do.” Your breath catches in your throat as he turns around fully, facing you head on, one slow step inching towards you at a time. You gulp, feeling like you’re left in the dark regarding his intentions as you hopelessly struggle to read him. On the opposite spectrum you’re there, an open book, your heart on your sleeve, your every thought written so clearly on your face you may as well give him your diary to flip through. “More than anything.” Breathlessly you add, meeting his eyes as a challenge. You’re devout, as loyal as it gets. You’d do anything for him if he asked.

Homelander rises to your mental challenge with a grin so sharp you feel the metaphorical bite coming before he even opens his mouth as he steps closer. He’s so close now. Any ordinary man could feel the thud of your heartbeat, but to his keen senses it’s a war drum and he’s marching to a battle he’s already won. His bare, elegant hands make their way to your jaw caressing it with a surprising gentleness. You flinch. Even though you watched it happen with wide eyes, you didn’t expect his hands to leave you unmarred. You almost expect your skin to sizzle, unworthy of his divine touch.  

Homelander’s grin disappears, his tongue gliding along his teeth as if he’s cleaning them before he devours his next meal. All that leaves you is a little whimper before he pulls you in, his hands thrumming with incomprehensible strength as he kisses you. He kisses the air out of your lungs as if you could survive without it like he can. As if you could meet him in the middle. But dammit you do your best to. He’s a passionate kisser, incapable of sticking to soft kisses. No, he devours. He licks your lips open, his tongue gliding along yours. You brace your hands against his chest, already feeling weak in the knees. The heat of his breath and the wetness of his tongue in your mouth is nothing compared to how hot and wet you feel in your panties.

It doesn’t help that he’s vocal. You kiss him harder anytime he growls or moans into your lips, his voice vibrating against your lips just possessing you more. And soon it turns into a game of who can dish it out harder. Each devoted kiss makes him hum and purr which in turn melts you into a pile of goo, making you kiss him harder. Your lips feel hot, swollen from the ferocious kissing. You’re nearing the limit of what your lungs can manage without resurfacing for air.

Homelander pulls away but he doesn’t give you any time to recover. As if you could. How do you recover from that? Instead he’s adamant about making your heartbeat hit record heights. His hands glide down your body, featherlight touches that make your skin break out into goosebumps as he settles on your hips, trailing the waistband of your pants. His pink wet lips spread into another predatory smile and before you know it he leans closer to your ear, practically purring, “Tell me, if I take these off will I find you wearing Homelander panties too?” 

Flustered squeak escapes you as he laughs wholeheartedly at your embarrassment. You know he knows. He’s teasing you for a reason. “They’re comfortable.” You eventually grumble, pouting like a child getting caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

“I bet they are.” He sinks down to one knee, his hands taking the waistband of your pants with him as he pulls them down over your thighs, letting the fabric pool by your ankles. He pats your ankle, prompting you to step out of them. You comply, kicking the fabric away earning a little word of praise from him. “Attagirl.” You’re visibly trembling as he kneels in front of you, his eyes locked on the sight of your blue panties with his emblem and name right across the middle in gold, all accentuated by a red trim. It would be far from sexy in any other circumstance but he purrs at the sight. All pleased like the cat that got the cream. “Got my name across your pussy all day long?” 

Before you could react like any other person would, he hooked one of your legs over his shoulder. You yelp, losing your balance trying to grab onto his head or shoulders for support but he puts his arm on your back, sliding it right under your top keeping you straight and secure whether you want it or not. You’re not leaving until he says so. “Might as well fucking taste it seeing as it’s already mine, don’t you think?” He gives you a hungry look licking his lips before hoisting your other leg over his shoulder, standing up with ease. He walks you back against a wall as he eagerly inhales the scent of you, his head perfectly in between your warm thighs. 

“Woah!” You stabilise yourself, finally having more surface to lean against. The fabric of your top glides along the surface of the glossy posters he has you pressed against. Making you the centerpiece, surrounding you with his likeness. You finally process what the fuck is happening as you feel his nose pressing into the soaked fabric of your panties. “Homelander! Y-you….ohh…” You whimper, your hands automatically finding comfort and safety in between his golden locks. 

“Fuck you smell good.” Homelander growls, his hands now on your ass, holding you in place as he sticks his tongue out, pressing it wetly over your soaked panties. The taste of you already coating all his taste buds.

“O-oh fffuuck. OH god…yes…yes please.” You don’t stop yourself from moaning freely, the time for embarrassment long gone as Homelander lifts one hand from your ass, impatiently pulling the fabric of your Homelander panties to the side, his tongue already slipping in for a taste before his hand even makes it back to squeeze your ass. “Taste just as fucking good.” His voice strained, uttering filth in between your thighs.

His thick tongue pushes through the slit of your weeping pussy, lapping up what you’ve so graciously prepared just for him. And as you watch a mop of blonde hair greedily slurp at your wetness like he’s parched, you think back to the fantasies that drove you to orgasm after orgasm as the imaginary Homelander ate your pussy. 

Well, for one the real thing is a lot more enthusiastic than you ever imagined him to be. He is sucking on your clit in rhythm that has you throb harder, making your toes curl. “Ohhh, Homelander!” You reward him with a loud moan of his name, like a prayer on your lips. And you repeat it with each masterful lick around your clit that has you squirming in his hold, legs quivering around his head, fingers tugging at his hair.

The second thing you never considered was how much his powers would come into play. Here he is with a deathly strong iron grip around your ass, easily holding you up on his shoulders against the wall while pushing you as close into his face as he can. The thought of not being able to escape his grip exhilarates you as much as it terrifies you. His lack of need for air makes him a perfect devout lover. Because this is pure devotion except it seems he forgot who was meant to worship who.

You’d be embarrassed by the obscene sounds you two are making if it didn’t feel so good. You moan for him prettily as he licks up all the wetness he’s coaxing out of you. You breath hitches as you feel your orgasm building. He's consistent, giving you just the right pressure. Homelander looks up at you, eyes glassy and blown back with lust before he swiftly repositions you, needing just one arm to make you feel weightless yet secure in his hold as he takes his free hand plunging two fingers into you revelling in the feeling of your cunt clenching around him.

“Oh there there there! Ahhh!” You guide him, his fingers pumping into you and with his tongue still working magic on your clit you whimper out, “oh fuck, I’m gonna, I’m gonna–.” You fall apart in his arms, cumming on Homelander’s tongue like you’ve imagined many times over. With you thrashing around you rip the poster right behind you unaware of the mess you’re leaving behind. He licks you through the waves crashing through you. He’s smug, you can feel the smirk against your pussy as he gives it one more kiss before easily slipping you off his shoulders, preening with satisfaction. “Mhmm you did so good.” His voice purred and even in your post-orgasm haze you flush with fresh heat at the praise.

He gives you time to compose yourself but you don’t want it. You want him. You need him. Your legs feel like jelly so you immediately sink to your knees, nuzzling your face into his crotch. Too eager to wait. Homelander cooed at your enthusiasm, “Look at that. Didn’t even have to tell you.” He chuckles, voice thick with lust, his lips and chin still glistening from the way he feasted on you.

Wobbly and out of your mind, you reach for his belt, unable to figure out how to unclasp it, your dexterity not quite there either to be able to wiggle the hem of his pants underneath it and pull them down.

You look up at him with the face of a kitten that’s not getting what it wants. Pouting and pleading for help. 

“Christ, let me help you with that.” Homelander unclasps his belt, letting it hit the floor with a loud and heavy clang and the thought of it denting the cheap flooring doesn’t even graze your mind. He unzips his pants and the hiss alone makes your mouth water. He pushes his pants a little lower and you stare wide eyed at where his thematically red briefs are tented, his cock throbbing and leaking pre-cum into the thin fabric.

Okay, this you can do. Your hands slide up his thighs, getting a little feel of the bare skin of his thighs. Unmarred, smooth and hot. Your hand briefly squeezes around his cock through his briefs, forcing Homelander to hiss through his teeth. You pull down his briefs, bunching them down with the thick fabric of his suit. 

You try not to stare and drool but you’ve imagined his cock in your dreams and fantasies so many times that seeing it in real life just kind of blows your fucking mind. It’s perfect. A bit longer than average but especially nice and thick. You lick your lips in anticipation. His hand rests on the back of your head, giving your hair a tug.

“You gonna keep staring or will you put those pretty lips to work?” His gruff tone tears you from the haze. 

You blush, being caught staring. Wanting to please your hero you apologize, “sorry, it’s just so perfect. You’re perfect.” You breathe out in pure adoration. 

“Come on then, be a good girl and open up for your hero. I want my cock wet before I slide it into that needy pussy.” He looks down at you with a sharp smile, his other hand rests on your jaw before moving up squeezing the hollow of your cheeks, forcing your mouth open. Not that he has to, you’re more than willing to deliver. You open wider, making his hand withdraw as you take matter into your own hands. Literally. You grip the base of his cock, feeling how hefty and hot it feels. It hits you in that moment that you’re holding Homelander’s cock. Fuck. You’re gonna be dreaming of this moment for years to come.

You look up, giving him one more doe-eyed look before you stick your tongue out easing the swollen red head in between your lips. The salty, musky taste of his pre-cum on your tongue makes you whimper, your eyebrows furrow with concentration as you focus on banking the memory of his taste in your head. Eagerly you get right into it. Down and dirty. You focus on him, coating him with an ungodly amount of saliva until anytime you pop off him you’re followed by strings of it connecting you two. His grunts and heavy breaths just urge you to do better. So you take him deeper, slurping around the saliva you've made for him, bobbing your head up and down.

You nearly lose your rhythm when he lets out such a needy wanton moan, making your pussy throb.

“Thaaat’s it, come on—fuck!—deeper, yeah yeaahh you got it sweetheart. God fuck that’s fucking it.” He’s nearly whimpering, so lost in the sensation. And you're eating it up. Each whimper and word goes straight to your pussy and at this point you wouldn't be surprised if you were making a puddle on the floor.

His hand forces your head down deeper and you gag, choking around him as for a second your nose bumps the neat thatch of hair above his cock. He's not easily dissuaded and he pushes again, a little softer this time. You almost feel the tremble of his hands, he's so close to unravelling. Just for you. The swell of pride pushes you forward and you take him deeper. He takes the chance to push both hands into your hair as he starts fucking your face.

“Take it. Take it.” He grunts, his voice more and more broken with every thrust. You're just about to push his thighs back, attempting to fight against his unyielding force but his hips stutter and he groans, letting out broken moans as he spills on your tongue.

As if on command you swallow and he pulls out, wiping the residual dribbles of cum on your lips. Now that he’s done you realise just how fucking badly your jaw aches. You whimper at the ache of your jaw and the ache between your legs. 

You’re still kneeling on the floor, a picture of pure devotion, with your mouth messy and lips swollen. He grumbles at the picture in front of him. He pulls you up by your hair, kissing the taste of himself out of your lips. You can still taste your pussy on his lips and tongue as he shoves it into your mouth. “Bed?” He's somehow more than ready to continue and mentally you add his extraordinary refractory period to the list of his many talents. 

You nod a broken, “y-yeah, this way,” the taste of him still heavy on your tongue as you lead him to your bedroom.

He lets out a little chuckle at the state of your bedroom, just as decorated with his brand as was the rest of your apartment. “Fuck me, you really are my biggest fan.” 

You’re about to apologize, again, and he can read you like an open book already shushing you. “Shh, don’t say it. C’mere, take this off instead. Want to see you.” He tugs at your top, wanting you to take it off. Like unwrapping a present. You let out a few breathless ‘okay’s and pull the top over your head baring your entire body to him, save for the panties that were still uncomfortably pushed to the side. He clearly wants you to keep them on and you’re not sure whether that’s his narcissism or possessiveness talking. You don’t dare comment on the fact that he’s still fully dressed. You’re not gonna start demanding things from the Homelander now are you? 

With a step closer he purrs, pushing you to the bed intensely watching as your tits bounce when your back hits the comforter. He follows as he lays over the top of you but he doesn't look at you. He picks up the grimacing Homelander plushie he sees on your pillow— the one that's predominantly advertised to kids. He holds it up for you to see with a raised eyebrow, the look almost condescending. “What? They make no other official plushies!” You defend yourself. 

“Is there anything you don't have?” 

You don't know what possessed you to answer, “yeah, you,” but Homelander eats it right up as he grins at you.

“Cheeky slut. Well you're about to. On your side.” He says sliding off you to rest on his side looking you up and down hungrily. You’re clearly surprised at his choice of position and he grumbles with annoyance as you take forever to move the way he wants you to. His impatience gets the best of him and he effortlessly manipulates you to your side, slotting right behind you. Homelander grips your inner thigh lifting your leg a little higher, as he nestles his cock right against your wet cunt.

You sigh with partial relief, feeling him solid against you feels good. Feeling him inside you would feel even better. “Jesus, you're still so fucking wet.” 

“It's all your fault.” You whimper trying to wiggle in his unyielding hold. He just tuts at you gripping you tighter, cusping on pain.

He pulls you close, his cock sliding in between your slit, immediately getting the top of his cock wet. His lips trail up your jaw until he reaches your ear. He growls, low and sexy, nipping at the sensitive skin of your ear. Your heart skips a beat, your pussy throbs as the sound of him just ripples through you. 

“Maybe it is. You know, I've been thinking. You're such a nervous little thing.” He grinds his hips into you, dragging his cock back and forth, teasing you. His voice got quiet, dropping a register lower. All slow and drawled out he continues rumbling in your ear clearly aware of what it's doing to you. “You were beside yourself when I called you. So there I am thinking nobody gets that nervous, not unless they’re trying to hide how fucking turned on they are.” He keeps fucking talking and talking, making you shiver to the point where you feel goosebumps rise all over you. Your breath ragged, your eyes fluttering shut.

You're starting to understand why he was particular about this position. After all, he could read you like a book from the get go.

“At first I thought it was just me because you're such a big fan.” He coos in a condescending tone. He licks the outer edge of your ear and you shriek, thrashing in his uncompromising hold. “But no no nooo. It's not that. Because everytime I spoke, your heartbeat sped up. You know, I was worried about you there for a minute. Then there was your pussy. You get so wet the air is thick with it. I can't even fucking breathe without tasting your sweet cunt.” You let out a broken sound, close to a sob, you pussy throbbing so hard he must feel it even without being inside you. You didn't even consider that his senses can easily sniff your secret out.

He’s still rubbing his cock in between your folds, sliding the whole length of it up and down. It’s slick and loud and so good and holy shit your clit is burning from the way his head catches on it with every thrust. You're so close and your body is on fire. You so desperately want to cum with something inside you but he’s cruel. He's not gonna give it to you just yet. “And look at that, you're still getting wetter. They do say it's always the unassuming ones.” He chuckles into your ear, low and vibrating against you.

“Is that it? Do you get off to the sound of my voice? Do you watch videos of me, listening to interviews while you finger your little pussy?” He's going harder, the wet sound of your pussy slicking his way in between your slit is deafening, embarrassingly loud. “Tell me.” The little command growls in your ear and you force your lips open.

“Y-yes! Yes….I-I find your voice sexy.” You admit to your little shameful secret. You admit that one of the reasons you never met him was because you didn't want to get sopping wet in a crowd full of screaming fans. “Don't stop, please.” You moan out, quiet and broken, your embarrassment making way to pure pleasure. Now that it's out in the open, what is there to hide?

“Do you even care what I say? Huh? I could be reading out the fucking phone book and your pussy would still get wet. Greedy little thing. What’s it gonna be? You gonna cum to my voice or are you gonna be difficult?” You're burning hot, your body so so tense, the leg he's hitched up a little trembling against his strong grip. His cock is still hitting your clit in the perfect fucking way and you're so so so close. 

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop! Oh fuck, Homelander—don’t—ahhh!” The dam bursts, a wave of pleasure sweeping over you as you scream. Homelander pulls back and with one deft stroke he slides his cock inside you. He doesn't move. He growls at the feeling of your cunt just pulsing against him. He's so thick inside you, stretching you wide, filling every crevice. 

He whimpers and you feel how tense he is holding off the orgasm threatening to burst inside him.

Just as you think this must be the end of it, your mind just a buzzing noise, he pulls out moving back and he pushes you on your back. 

You never expected him to be so active in bed but he's already in between your legs, his hands clamping down on the clammy flesh of the back of your thighs and he spreads you open. He's on his knees, his hands slide and curl from the back of your thighs to the top as he pulls you in, slowly sliding his cock into you in one push. 

He doesn't wait for anything. He just fucks you. Hard and fast, really getting himself off more than you. Surrounded by posters and merch all carrying his likeness while he plunges into you again and again. Your hair is plastered to your forehead as you watch your hero utterly ruin you. You're sweaty, absolutely spent and tired while he's pushing into you without breaking a sweat. 

This round isn't for you yet it's gonna be a memory you'll frequent the most. The look on his face, pure lust and torture as he's fucking you with as much strength as he allows himself. 

With how he's got your hips propped up he's managing to hit all your best spots as your overstimulated nerves light up, giving him one last finish, your pussy’s quivers pushing him over the edge as well. 

Then there's a little hot spurt of him inside you but you're surprised when he pulls out shooting most of his load with a few strokes of his fist all over your panties and stomach. 

“Ahh fuck. Look at that, finally got your first autograph.” He snorts, amused, admiring the sight in front of him. His cum has already soaked into your panties, the ‘Homelander’ text changing into a darker colour as both his cum and your slick from the previous round drench the fabric. 

You flush hot red and you shake your head, amused by his antics. “That's disgusting.” But strangely, you're charmed. 

“I should take a picture. You look great like this.” 

He notes as he slides off your bed pulling his briefs over his finally softening cock, tucking himself back into his suit.

“Stay?” You say softly, offering him the space for his benefit more than yours. Even though you'd like him to stay for a cuddle you know you'll be out of it in a minute.

“Can't do I'm afraid, duty calls.” 

You nod, understanding. “Thank you, I really feel like a winner.” You snorted, thinking back to how the day even started.

He looks at you almost fondly, but your orgasm-hazy brain might just not be working anymore. 

“Until next time.” He says as a goodbye and you end up tucking yourself into bed. The last thing you hear is the click of his belt he picked up from the living room, the creak of the leather gloves he slides back on and the sonic boom of him flying away.

And you know that when you wake up if it wasn't for your ruined panties, your throbbing cunt or even the ripped poster in the living room you wouldn't believe any of it was real.

You sure hope there will be a next time.

[Part 2]

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

[twisted-king]

Salve!:D. I'm curious on how the vice-dormleaders would react(hc) if their S/O being like Silver. Not in a literal sense but in a "Always sleepy/sleeps in random places" sense. It would also be pretty funny if their S/O still aces their academics HAHA(￣▽￣)~*

omg!! YES!!!

Vice Dormleaders x Silver-like!Reader

Trey Clover

He's a little worried... Like do you get enough sleep?

Are classes too stressful?

Trey finds it cute if you fall asleep on his shoulder while studying or having afternoon tea. He'd chuckle and give a "Is my shoulder that comfortable?" line as soon as you wake up.

Yes, you've heard it hundreds of times.

Trey kind of insists on studying with you, he (wrongly) thinks you might fall behind due to all the napping you do.

of course these study sessions are comfortable for you so you're usually lulled asleep by his voice

So imagine his suprise when he asks you about your text scores.

He's here, all ready to console you with your favorite tart, arms open to prepare to be a good boyfriend and hug you when youre sad

Only to be met with "Oh the midterm..? I aced it, why?"

HUH???

WHAT???

You share the tart, he laments...

He likes to suprise you with little treats every now and again, he buys special little boxes to put them in all the time too.

one day, he happened upon you sleeping underneath the table in your dorm (he knows where to look at this point).

You woke up with a light weight on your chest, It was a small green box with a letter attached to it:

"A sweet treat after your sweet dreams,

XOXO

- Trey Clover

Jade Leech

"Oh? How interesting..."

Jade is a little weirdo, so I think this unique trait of yours REALLY facinates him!

He kind of develops a sixth sense for your eepiness. Like he'll be in a middle of a shift and just randomly take a break, just to be there for you when you wake up.

Jade BEGS you to try a bunch of (non poisonous) mushrooms to see if they make your drowsiness worse or better

"Would you not consider it at leas.." "No." "please.." "Just once.."

He's really convincing (6'5 and in a suit).

If you fall asleep in the monstro lounge he is NOT stopping Floyd from doodling on your face

He isnt too suprised by your competency with grades, but then again he lives with Floyd, its kind of hard to suprise him.

He still rewards you with a lil kiss on the forehead

Jade LOVES when you fall asleep on him, it lets him know you feel safe around him!! He keeps a pleased smile on his face when youre near him and sleepy in any capacity.

He wants to go on hikes with you SO BADLY.

You agree one day, it kind of ends with you being carried when you eventually fall asleep on a particularly warm rock.

"Whatever will I do with you, Angelfish..."

-Said while lovingly scooping you up

Jamil Viper

Sigh...

How you two got together is a mystery

But he feels a bit calmer with you around.

He's pretty busy with Kalim, so a lot of time spent together is during school, school activities, and while he's cooking.

Jamil gets a little anxious when youre out of sights. like... what if you're sleeping somewhere dangerous, or you suddently decided to persue mountain climbing?

You go to a lot of his basketball practices, he claims he plays a little better when youre around anyway, even if you fall asleep in the middle fo the game

Stops both Ace AND Floyd from doodling on your face during practices.

Now, as for grades. He isnt too worried about you, he's got kalim to deal with an an exam to underperform on.

After midterms, he does ask about how you did (as seems to be customary)

"I did pretty well... got a 98" "You what"-

He's...pleaseantly suprised! one less thing to worry about (despite that not being his responsibility)

Jamil likes cooking spicier and spicier food for you, both to see if you can handle it (he's a little competitive), and to wake ypu up a lil <3

He presses a kiss to your cheek for every "level" you complete

"What do you think, Flower?... ah, you fell asleep"

Rook Hunt

I'm sorry.... he's a little weird about it.

He has a LOT of pictures of you sleeping in odd places

Rook's favorite is his homescreen on his phone, it's you sleeping in an impossibly high tree kind of just.. hanging there. Its in super high quality though.

He likes leaving little notes about how cute you look while sleeping around

its like a little gift for when you wake up!!!

When he isnt watch you sleep he keeps a bottle of water and some fruit snacks to munch on. Sleeping this often must be tiring after all, you need your energy!

You know you can call for him just as easily as Vil can (if not easier... you bagged a SIMP)

So, sometimes you jokingly put a hand to your forehead and Rook comes SPRINTING.

His arms are outstretched ready to catch you into a fall and dip you into a kiss

Sometimes though, it is not a joke, and Rook dutifully scoops you up before you make eye contact with him.

It's Rook, so he kind of knew about your good grades already, but every time you tell him he gives you a little "Magnifique~" and kisses your knuckles.

Your dates are very odd. one week it'll be a romantic picnic he preapred for you, the next you're hunting for Leonas together, and after that? movie night!

"Ah~ how delightful it must be to be graced with your beautiful viasge. How I long to be the lone tree stump that captured your affections so.

<3

-Rook Hunt"

Lilia Vanrouge

Another one of them "ara ara?? how interesting" types

He's a father, whose had practice with Silver

Lilia always encourages you to do your best, he usually knows when to stop pushing you to study or focus by looking into your eyes.

He's huge on affections (touch starved Lilia HC my beloved), so Lilia sometimes conveniently floats on by if you start to get drowsy.

He would rather stroke your hair to sleep over you resting on the uncomfortable wooden desks

Also kind of a weirdo who isnt tooo suprised about your high grades. He kind of assumed you were studying in your free time without him.

However, that does not mean he doesnt want to reward your great scores!! He'll cook for you :)

"I was thinking of making a lovely lasagna, with some cinnamon and jalapeño for color.... oh dear, you seem to have fallen asleep."

"honk shmimimimimim" -you, clearly faking it

He always feigns hurt when you reject his cooking, but he knows of his reputation in the kitchen.

Lilia often takes you to new places, usually museums, but sometimes your dates are in a forest he recently discovered within Diasomnia's grounds. like a goth picnic

He has a photo album of your dates together, although he has a page or two dedicated to his favorite spots you've napped on.

Lils is super accomodating, as long as you dont mind his suprise hugs and some light jumpscaring

"Haha got you, little bat!"

-Lilia, after successfully scaring the HELL out of you

[heartfullofleeches]

Miller [Streamer Yan] and Vtuber Darling that's a regular 110% human being just like them :). Darling's model is pretty average, yet cute looking, but it's their gimmick that really pulls people in.

"Ah, I'm a little thirsty. Excuse me while I drink water with my human mouth... which I have only one of."

"Do you like when I play horror games? I. Like. Them. Too. But I prefer the ones where the main character befriends the monsters at the end :)"

"Oh... Is that really what people look like instead?... I. Am full of meat too. We have so much more in common than I thought."

Quite the oddball, but their chat finds their behaviors adorable. Miller does too. They're over the moon when Darling accepts their friend requests and even more thrilled when darling mentions Miller is their first companion and streaming buddy. They've never been able to make friends before and was lonely because of it, but since they've gained a following it feels like they're never alone.

There are a few hiccups on the day Miller and Darling first stream together. Static drowns out darling's voice when they call and Miller can faintly hear what sounds like...purring? in the background. Darling apologies for the strange sounds once they're finally able to get through to Miller - their pet cat was happy they finally made a friend.

Miller is crushing hard from day one. They've never seen darling's face, but if they're half as cute as their voice they might be too far out of Miller's league. They've tried scrolling through darling's social media pages for photos of them, but all they were able to find was old selfies taken in the worst lighting imaginable... Pretty blurry too.

Darling likes Miller too. They feel as though they can trust the streamer. Trust them with anything.

"Mill...er? I. Have a confession."

"I'm all ears- Lay it on me, baby."

"Can you promise? Promise. Not to be.. Afraid?"

"Afraid? Who'd ever be scared of someone like you? You don't really scream serial killer from the conversations we've had so far."

"If that's is the case... Join the call. See. Me. I. Trust you, Miller."

Call? Oh, darling invited them to a video call. It's crazy that it's the first one after all the time, but Miller respects their privacy....a little. Miller can't see much of anything when they join in. Small, white lights greet them shrouded by the darkness of darling's room as their end connects. Looking closer, Miller realizes....

Those are eyes.

"I'm. So sorry for deceiving you.... and everyone else. Miller.... Thank you for being so kind to me. I couldn't lie to you anymore. I'm sorry. I understand. If you hate me now ...."

"Hate you?.... I'm trying to figure out when our first date is-"

"Ah?"

"You like pork chops? Steak? I remember you talking a lot about meat in earlier streams. I like a person who can really eat, y'know?"

Are they.... flirting? Darling is vaguely aware of the practice. Miller can see them right? Why are they acting so nonchalant about their appearance?

"Hm? It's still you, isn't it? A few more eyes or rows of teeth don't change the fact you're one of the chillest people I've met online. Cutest too. Even now.... So, when can we meet up?"

Miller is strange.... but Darling is strange too. They're happy they met them.

-

Miller: So you're telling me you've been this sexy monster person this entire time?

Vtuber Darling: i... suppose?

Miller: And you choose that boring ass design as your avatar?! Actually that was probably better for me personally - weeds out some of the competition.

[seuonji]

彡on a variety show w your svt bf!

๑ idol!svt x idol!yn secret relationship series! no storyline, just fun.

one ๑ two ๑ three ๑ four ๑ five ๑ six ๑ seven #mlist

notes ๑ variety show 'my alcohol diary' has mentions of drinking & getting drunk.

your group plays esports (valorant, leave of legends, apex, etc) against svt as a hybe special!

wonwoo gives you a look when you both sit at the end of your respective tables, you on the right, him on the left making you two sort of beside each other.

as you both play, the host points out that your skills are extremely good. your group member brings up the fact that recently you’ve been spending a lot more time gaming in your free time to which wonwoo rests his head on his hand to cover his smile knowing that he’s the reason you’ve been gaming more. the host adds on that your play style is a bit similar to wonwoo giving both groups chills. “perhaps it’s what’s adapted after a long time of playing,” you calmly respond.

on the other hand with soonyoung— he keeps messing up, at one point he shot one of his members, “the keyboard isn’t following what i want to do.” and you’d fr just face palm yourself. the host mentions, “even yn is getting tired of your antics.” “what antics!? im really trying.” you hope he can make it when technology evolves further. after filming you meet up with him. “wasn’t i cool earlier?” he asks. “i think my baby cousin can beat you.”

jeonghan would be such a menace in this scenario cause omg he would target you. like if he spots you he will not stop shooting and chasing until he gets you— your group member watching all of this go down would try to shoot jeonghan yet somehow he’s dodging and still hunting you down— “let me breathe!?” jeonghan shouts at your member. “you’re not letting ME breathe?” you shout back.

๑

random play dance! (random song is played and you have to dance the correct choreography)

beforehand you'd ask seungkwan to help you with the dances but he was not about to help you out while you were in a different group! until in one of the rounds where you looked lost, seungkwan comes to the front and dances clearly as a way to help you. "you're helping the other groups! get to the back," competitive seungcheol would shout. "sorry i got excited," seungkwan laughs it off. being fr tho how does that man know that many choreographies.

i imagine seokmin/mingyu would whisper to you, "i got you, just follow me," and then he would be one of the first to be eliminated.

vernon keeps on looking at you and copying your dance— you can’t help but laugh at his facial expressions when he doesn’t know the dance but also somehow he’s surviving.

wherever you are in the arena, chan always ends up beside you.

๑

youngji's program 'my alcohol diary'

you’d go alone to promote your groups album. your episode was relatively short— they covered it up with 'yn got drunk super fast' but actually, whether you have a high tolerance or not, in the end when you got drunk, you just kept on gushing about your boyfriend. (bf can be any member)

when youngji asked you to teach her the dance of your song you went through it step by step until a certain part, “oh soonyoung choreographed this part and i gave it as a suggestion and it made the cut to the official choreo,” you said with a big smile. // “my boyfriend likes this part,” you danced the bit then nonchalantly continued to teach youngji but she’s standing, there still in shock of everything she’s heard.

after filming, your boyfriend would pick you up and take care of you till you sober up.

the next day youngji would message and reveal something to you.

yn: im so sorry for the short episode run-

youngji: if it makes you feel better, seungcheol/soonyoung/mingyu/minghao talked about you way more than you did about them.

๑

chinese whisper game as a mini game (there’s a given word/phrase and the word is passed on through all players, last players needs to shout it out word for word)

you’re standing in front of jeonghan/minghao and he keeps on blowing into your ear before he starts actually saying the given phrase—

but if it was the noise cancellation version (have to read lips or body actions to get the word/phrase)

seungcheol pouted at you when you couldn’t understand what he was saying which a lot of viewers found weird since he would usually only do that with his members.

you almost hug jeonghan/joshua/wonwoo when he got the word correct—

jun/wonwoo/jihoon keeps on giving you high-fives every round.

you consider choking soonyoung when he can’t get the word correct for shit.

you and minghao/chan kept on bickering over the way he would execute the word. the staff and your members would be more interested on how you guys fight rather than the word being finally passed over to the last person.

[etherealyoungk]

soft thoughts about Seungkwan would be like you both going to nearby court to play basketball and him scoring the first 2 points but letting you off easy for the rest of the game. Because he loves it when you 'boo' at him, doing tiny victory dances and while you're busy celebrating you miss the lovesick gaze he directs at you throughout.

Bonus : he suddenly pulls you interrupting your dance just to kiss you softly murmuring a 'you win the game, I won in life.'

Sorry if it's too long!

hii! this is so adorable omg

just imagine going to the basketball court nearby when it's late into the night because you were bored and wanted some fresh air. the game starts off as something silly, just a light hearted game, with neither of you taking it too seriously. but as seungkwan keeps scoring you keep missing, you start to get competitive.

seungkwan decides to give you a break, letting you off easy for the rest of the game when he sees you start to get competitive. with a teasing smile, he makes sure you have a chance to catch up. after a series of determined shots, you finally scored two points, taking the lead. you couldn't contain your excitement. “yes!” you shout, jumping up and down in victory. “i’m winning!” you say with a smile.

with a mischievous grin, you playfully booed seungkwan, your laughter filling the night air. meanwhile, seungkwan is just looking at you with the fondest, lovesick gaze as he smiles, his eyes shining with affection as he looks at you. for the rest of the game he doesn't even bother to score, settling to see you smile and be happy that you're winning and he's losing. the sight of your beaming face and the sound of your sweet laughter made him feel like he had already won in his own special way.

when you finally score the last winning point, you're running around seungkwan like you were taking a victory lap. suddenly, seungkwan reaches out, catching you in a gentle embrace. his hands rest on your waist, pulling you close and halting your celebration mid-run. you were caught off guard, but the closeness felt comforting. your arms naturally drape over his shoulders as you try to catch your breath.

“you might have won the game,” seungkwan murmurs softly, “but i won at life.”

before you can fully process his words, he leans in and presss his lips to yours in a sweet, lingering kiss. the world seemed to pause for a moment, and all that existed was the warmth of his lips and the gentle thud of your heart. when he pulls away, you rest your forehead against his, both of you smiling.

[cuubism]

a lovely person on ao3 expressed interest in more of this retired Dream chronic pain fic and I said well who knows maybe one day and then proved myself a liar by doing it Now. when it gets in your head it stays there until it's out

--

One of Hob's greatest joys, as boyfriend and caretaker to one retired King of Dreams, is finding new things for Dream to enjoy. Things that Dream didn't have time for, or never got the chance to try, when he was fully occupied by his function. It's so fun seeing Dream's joy. Dream has never allowed himself very much of it.

Of all the things Hob's introduced him to, he hadn't figured Dream would be a video game fan. Always thought he was more one for slower media like books, or maybe he just hadn't been able to imagine his ancient, ponderous stranger gaming.

Hob was wrong. So very wrong that ever since he made the dubious decision to buy Dream an iPad he's been stuck in a perennial competition with Minecraft for Dream's attention, and Minecraft might be winning.

He really should have known better, should have guessed that the once-king of the Dreaming would love the immersive dreamscapes of video games, not to mention that he can create things again in a way that doesn't have the world-shaking consequences of his former role.

When Hob gets home from work, he's unsurprised to once again find Dream twisted up in a complicated pretzel shape in his favorite armchair, headphones on, nose buried in the iPad. Sitting that way isn't going to help his joints much in the long run, but nowadays Dream only ever seems to either sprawl or to crunch up in a tiny ball when he's sitting anywhere--sometimes Hob wonders if, after so many years of carrying every aspect of his life so primly and correctly, Dream simply can't bear to do it ever again.

He's also said that that twisted way of sitting is the only position that helps his hip ache less, so Hob doesn't complain about it too much.

"Hey, love," he calls as he sets his bag down, sitting on the couch beside Dream's armchair. Dream looks up at him, pulling his headphones off so they sit around his neck. Hob can vaguely hear the audio--Christ, on top of working on his crazily elaborate Minecraft world--Hob's seen it, the thing's insane--he's also listening to an audiobook. Yeah, Hob was so wrong about expecting Dream's way of trying to relax to be slow or measured.

Dream looks tired now, though, not relaxed, dark circles along his cheeks and a pinch of weariness at the corners of his eyes. Ah. Tough day, then.

"How's the Minecrafting going?" he asks instead of remarking on it. He probably sounds like an old person when he talks to Dream about it--well, he is an old person--but Hob's never been able to stick to any one thing for too long, and he hasn't actually picked up this game since the first time it came out. Who knows how it works nowadays.

Dream shows him the screen. Predictably, he tends to just play in his own little world instead of interacting with anyone else, and said world has become an elaborate landscape of infinite cityscapes, art pieces, and complex structures Hob can't determine the purpose or design of. If Hob's not wrong, it's significantly more complicated than it was just yesterday. Dream has picked this all up with disturbing ease and gotten very fast at it besides. You can take the dream lord out of the craft but not the craft out of the dream lord, apparently.

"You're getting quick at that," he says. "Pretty soon it will be bigger than London."

"Were it to be made physical in equal dimensions, it would be," Dream says. Maybe Hob should get him involved in city planning, might be entertaining for him.

He tries to imagine Dream at a council meeting and nearly perishes at the thought.

While Dream is still looking at him, Hob cups his jaw in one hand, runs his thumb over the dark circle under his eye. "Not feeling so well today?"

Dream sighs. "No. I did not sleep well."

Hob had noticed that, but he'd hoped the fact that Dream was still in bed when he'd left for work meant he might get some sleep later on. Apparently not.

"I am..." his lips twist. "My joints. Hurt."

"I'm sorry, love." Hob would fix it if he could. God he wishes he could. "Where?"

"Back. Primarily."

Really, Hob should be grateful for Minecraft, no matter that he's been in a pitched battle against it. It's one of the only things that can properly hold Dream's attention and distract him when he's not feeling well. Without his game to occupy him Dream just starts getting sad in addition to being in pain and Hob can hardly stand it.

"I love you, you know?" he says, and the corners of Dream's lips tip up.

"I know."

"You want to do some stretches with me?" Hob offers. "You can laugh at my lack of flexibility as much as you want."

He has, in fact, gotten Dream into some yoga and light strength training. It seems to help, at least a little. Dream's new human body is already very flexible, though. It's actually part of the problem. Maybe that's what happens when you try to put an amorphous conceptual being into a fixed body. Maybe it's just the roll of the dice.

"I would not laugh," Dream says, but sets the iPad aside and starts disentangling the knot of his limbs to climb out of the chair.

"No, but I can always see you thinking about it."

"I would not exchange flexibility for you being strong enough to pick me up," Dream declares.

"It's not a one-off trade," Hob says, laughing. Then, perhaps to prove a point, he scoops Dream up from the chair and into his arms.

Dream shrieks and clutches at him with all of his limbs. He's so good at tangling himself up like that that sometimes it still feels like he's able to manifest twice as many of them.

"Could try something else to flex those muscles too," he teases, and Dream gives him a judgmental look, but Hob can see the smile secretly tugging at his lips.

"Taking perverse advantage of my ailments?" he says.

Hob feigns offense. "I was just going to give you a back rub! Totally innocent."

"Mmmm." Dream tilts his head, studying him. "Perhaps if you are truly committed to doing all of the work. I'm not finding myself inclined towards effort this evening.”

"Taking perverse advantage of my generosity?" Hob echoes.

Dream smirks down at him from his perch in Hob’s arms. “Always.”

It’s fine by Hob. Dream deserves a bit of generosity, in his opinion. And a lot more than that, too.

“You’ve indeed been most generous with me in my indolence,” Dream purrs. “Cared for me in my infirmity. How ought a man repay such a magnanimous patron?”

“Could think of a few things,” Hob says, letting his gaze deliberately track down to Dream’s lips. “I’m more inclined to spoil you, though.”

“I am amenable to that,” Dream says. Haughty little thing. Even dying couldn’t take the king out of him.

Hob doesn’t mind, though. He’s always had a bit of a thing for it. So he obligingly carries his still-smirking lover off to their bedroom to spoil him just as he’s promised.

--

Afterwards, when Dream’s sprawled across him, one leg tossed over Hob’s hips in a way that apparently relieves the strain in his lower back, though Hob can’t imagine how, he says, “Does it bother you that I have become utterly idle?”

“You’re not idle,” Hob says. “You do plenty of stuff. I see you do it.”

“Not with true purpose, though,” Dream says.

“If you mean do I think you should get some sort of career, then no, I don’t.” Hob kind of shudders at the thought. “As far as I’m concerned, you never have to work again if you don't want to. Do what you want. Work on your Minecraft cities. I’m just happy that you’re here.”

“You work,” Dream points out.

“I get bored,” Hob says. “Besides, my job doesn’t involve literally being the job, you know. You have to make up for about a trillion years of no work-life balance.”

Dream just humphs, but settles closer against him.

“Does it make you uncomfortable that I pay for everything, is that it?” Hob asks. Dream has always been so fiercely independent.

“Uncomfortable, not exactly,” Dream says. “I find I still fail to grasp the importance of money.”

Hob chuckles. “Yeah, you would.”

“Rather,” Dream continues, “the issue is equity. Something I am contemplating more as part of human society.”

“Okay, I understand what you’re getting at.” Hob wouldn’t want their relationship to feel inequitable either, but it’s not so much about paying for things, but about Dream not feeling trapped. As much as part of Hob wants to bundle Dream up and never let him leave the flat again after he literally died once already, he doesn’t want Dream to stay because he has to. He wants him to stay because he chooses to. At the same time— “But, Dream, it’s been only six months.”

“And?”

“For your lifetime— hell, even for mine, it’s a vanishingly small amount of time. And you were so tired.” It still hurts, still feels almost panic-inducing to think about, how Dream had been the last time they’d spoken before he… died. Hob’s never seen such weariness on a person, and he’s seen a lot. It would take a long time for that to lift from a human, and Dream is operating on a much vaster scale. “If I can give you time to rest, then that’s what I want to do.”

Hob could never figure out how to help Dream when he was Endless. At least there’s something he can do to help Dream now.

“Rest,” Dream echoes. “You are insistent upon it.”

Hob buries his hand in his hair, scratches at his scalp. “It feels better, though, doesn’t it?”

It takes a long moment for Dream to concede his answer, but finally he says, quietly, “Yes.”

“I love you beyond measure,” Hob says, aching with the words. “I want you to be well. It’s no more complicated than that.”

“I think I am,” Dream says slowly. “Well.”

Hob thinks so, too—at least, more so than he once was. He has his issues with his body. But some of the heaviness on him has eased. And that’s a step.

“I do not think I have been well before,” Dream continues. “At least, not in quite some time.”

This, Hob knows, too.

“Then we’ll have to keep working at it until you’re used to it,” Hob says. “And I’ll spoil you until then. Well, after, too.”

“You seem to take pleasure in it,” Dream agrees.

Hob kisses the top of his head, rubs his hand up and down his back until Dream sinks into him further, boneless and lax. Maybe later he will give Dream an actually innocent back rub, it seems to help with the pain a bit. For now he just lets Dream fall asleep on top of him.

He needs the rest, anyway.

[rztaros]

: sunny days

synopsis. maybe banter was what fueled your love for each other. pairing. clarisse la rue x fem!r genre. fluff wc. 400+ now playing. sunny days by wave to earth . . . 💿 notes. 💬 lowercase intended + maybeee ooc clarisse idk

lying on a blanket in the forest, a spot clarisse picked out just for the two of you, clarisse was by your side, her arm tucked behind your neck. these moments with clarisse were what you yearned for most.

the sun hung in the sky, casting its warm, gentle rays. above were a canvas of clouds scattered in the sky, a few gathered in clusters.

at first, there was a comfortable silence between you two, though it wasn't like you minded it. clarisse, who usually carried a stoic, tense demeanor, seemed peaceful at the moment.

clarisse would suddenly speak up, her tone playful, as if trying to challenge you, "look, that cloud is clearly a dragon." pointing upwards, you'd raise an eyebrow.

you'd chuckle, "a dragon? it looks more like a bunny, clar."

clarisse scoffed in response, rolling her eyes, "no way! it's a dragon, no doubt. you just need to get your eyes checked."

nudging clarisse playfully, she'd dramatically gasp as if hurt by the gentle nudge.

as you two bantered about the shape of the cloud, the both of you would point out specific features of the cloud that resembled the animals you both chose.

clarisse's competitive spirit emerged, determined to prove you wrong, and similar to clarisse, you'd defend your imaginative vision with a fierce, ambitious glint in your eyes.

"i mean—look at the cloud! it's certainly not a dragon," you'd argue, shaking your head, adamant about the cloud being a bunny.

grinning ever-so-widely, clarisse would ruffle your hair teasingly, earning a muffled curse from you.

you'd huff with your arms crossed, soon realizing the childishness that lied between the banter.

as you laughed, so did clarisse, her laughter infectious as she'd cover her face, trying to stifle her laughter.

you two would soon find yourselves entangled in each other's bodies, the warmth comforting. with your heart heavy, you'd lean into clarisse's embrace as she'd wrap her arms around you, her touch providing a comforting refuge.

her fingers tracing your back gently, a gesture that spoke volumes, even without uttering a single word. with your head buried against clarisse's chest, the world seemed as if it was fading away.

glancing at you, clarisse would break the silence, muttering "y'know, maybe it's a dragon-bunny."

in response, you'd giggle, your eyes lighting up, "maybe you're right, it may be a dragon-bunny."

the atmosphere, along with the gentle breezing caressing your skin, was one of your favorite moments, especially when you felt clarisse's hand lightly caress your hair.

we melt this love and recreate it

as we imagine it

[dreamauri]

Hey girl, if you have the time please could I get charles x fem. Maybe she’s going through a phase where she’s not sleeping very well and exhausted and the Ferrari boys literally find her passed out in the weirdest places 🏎️ thank you x

♪ — 𝗦𝗡𝗢𝗢𝗭 charles leclerc x fem! reader (fluff) “. . . You gain a reputation for your unusual sleeping habits as you travel.”

( general master list | more of charles leclerc ) ( requests | taglist )

Imagine the excitement of Formula 1 world, a chapter filled with adrenaline-fueled action and constant competition on the track. On the other hand. You, amidst the fast paced weekends, are snoozing around the track, catching Zzz.

Your playground is the Formula 1 paddock, and while others are engrossed in the chaos, you find comfort in the most unlikely of locations.

Being the cheeky pair that they are, Carlos and Charles decide to keep track of your peculiar sleeping locations and turn it into a game of "Where will we find you next?"

And taking it to the extent as your self proclaimed "best friend" ( he's crushing on you hard please take the hint ), Charles Leclerc has a designated Instagram highlight, just for you sleeping around in the weirdest places possible.

"Mate!" Carlos called, trying to hold in his laugh. Charles, who has been avidly searching for you for the past thirty minutes, is at loss for words when he sees you sleeping on a random table face down, top half hanging off.Charles looks away trying to hide his smile. "Oh, Mon Dieu." [my god]. "I have to take a picture." Carlos laughed, taking his phone out. In attempt to save you from any further embarrassment, Charles walked towards you, trying to nudge you awake. but to not avail. "I got this, I got this." Carlos ran up to them with an air horn. "Mate dont-" it was too late. Charles was not quick enough o stop Chili. They both watched you stumble and fall forward off the table in shock. "Whered you even get that." Charles looked up at Carlos sighing. You looked up at the two boys, with tired angry eyes. "Run." You said simply making the two Ferrari boys run away immediately, fear stricken in their eyes.

@charles_leclerc posted on his story

seen by landonorris carlossainz55 and 52M others

But it doesn't stop there. Throughout the season, your knack for finding peace in the most unconventional places becomes legendary. You're discovered snoozing in the engineering office, leaning against the SF23, or even draped over a folding chair in the media centre.

Each time, Charles manages to capture the moment, sharing it with his fans on social media, much to everyone's amusement.

As the paddock becomes your bedroom, Charles becomes your self-appointed sleep guardian. He's always on the lookout, ensuring you have a comfy blanket to enhance your slumber. It became his mission to create a haven for you amidst the chaotic world of racing, a place where you can find serenity.

"There you are." Charles mumbles as he finally found you, sleeping on piles and stacks of tires, like it was the most comfortable thing in the world. He disappeared for a second before coming back with a pillow from his drivers room.He crouched down beside you, gently cupping the back of your head and lifting you up to place the plush material under your head. A groan emitted from your mouth, making Charles freeze in panic. Last time he woke you up, it did not end well for him.Once he was sure you were back to sleep, he gently lowered your head onto the pillow, taking his rain jacket off and draping it over your body. "Rest well, Mon amour." He mumbled, wiping a few droplets of rain of your cheek.He was sitting beside you on the floor when you woke up, going through his phone. "Bonjour." [good morning] He hummed, his green coloured eyes crinkling with a smile when he looked at you. You let out a tired hum in acknowledgment, playing with a random string from the jacket. Charles held up a cup of your favourite drink, which he was waiting to give you since he found it. You looked up at him, only meeting eyes with his loving gaze.

-

"I found Miss Snooze!" Charles shouted over the radio, it was FP2 and you were passed out on a random chair beside a camera man. Like the gentle man he is, Charles went back to the garage, got you your favourite pillow and one of his Ferrari jackets ( he could've gotten you a blanket but he wanted you to have something from his, it made his heart flutter when you wore it ). Once he reached you, he parked his car and jumped out, jogging to your side and giving you the premium comfort you deserved. Giving the camera a thumbs up before jumping back in the car.Although he didn't have his phone to take a photo this time, the camera man made sure to capture the whole thing for him.

Charles' dream finally came true when he found himself taking a nap beside you on a pile of race suits. Carlos was the one to snap the photo, a picture to keep for the blooming relationship.

[allaboutnayeli]

STAR GIRL | s.paralluelo x reader

summary: fans go crazy online after you make your first appearance at a barcelona game as salma's wag.

author notes: this is a fic for my bestie @pinkyqil expect i changed the entire plot and took a thousand years to post this. regardless, enjoy it 💓

contains: salma paralluelo x model!reader, implied black!fem!reader but yk if the shoe doesn't fit just use your imagination babes, salma being downbad, reader is not spanish but their entire career is mostly in spain, lesbians being lesbians, smau? nah social media just mentioned 🙏🏾, badly translated spanish don't mind it please, TW!! probably my worst piece of work

playing fashion killa by a$ap rocky 🎵

the sound of the chants from the fans in the stadium pound in your ears as you sit down. you smile at olga when she turns to talk to you, "el estadio está animado hoy, ¿no?"

you nod in agreement, "reminds me of male football games. i love how the women's game is growing."

the stadium is absolutely packed with fans with this being an el clásico match. you're so happy that this is your first experience of a women's match. you grew up with a family obsessed with football, but only on the male side. it isn't until you met salma that you got interested in this side of the sport.

olga lets out a hum of agreement, her eyes now focused on the pitch. your eyes focus there too. the players are out on the pitch now, you should have known with how much the cheers increased. immediately you spot salma walking out behind ona. a smile breaks out on your face; the main reason you were here was salma.

you and salma met through a mutual friend. both of you went to that friend's birthday dinner and hit it off right away. salma was a little starstruck since she has seen photos of you around barcelona for a while now while you didn't know about women's soccer or women's sports in general, but knew about salma's existence. all you knew about her was that she's good and a rising star, just like how you are in modeling.

the more you got to know her, the more you fell in love until eventually you confessed your feelings and thankfully she liked you back. you both decided to keep the relationship low-key for a while, just to let you two get comfortable and secure. that doesn't mean she hasn't been to some of your shows, bringing along vicky since you said she could bring a plus one. it's easy to act like the tall girl was just at the shows because she enjoyed the fashion or was invited by someone other than you. however, this el clásico match was the first time you have ever step foot in a soccer stadium for salma in particular. your schedule wasn't the most forgiving and somehow during the season, you were always swamped with shows and photoshoots.

now you made time to come to a game and you don't regret it.

the match flows well, but still the competition between the opposing teams is intense. you try to look at everyone on the pitch, but your eyes naturally focus on salma only. she looks gorgeous, all focused and in the zone. you feel starstruck seeing her in an environment that she absolutely thrives in.

half-time comes quickly and barcelona is up by four while real madrid only has scored two so far. you're proud to say two of those four goals were scored by your beautiful girlfriend. the same girlfriend who somehow is able to spot you before entering the tunnel. salma waves, a bright smile on her lips. she isn't able to come over to you as jana pulls her into the tunnel.

olga immediately turns to you, starting to talk about the match so far. you try to keep up the conversation as long as possible, but all your mind is on is your girlfriend and how good she looked on the pitch. also that adorable smile she sent your way. eventually the spainish woman turns to alba who's on the left side of her, leaving you to your own thoughts. not for long as someone moves to sit next to you.

a blonde girl with a barcelona jersey and some denim shorts smiles when your eyes land on her.

"i love your modeling, can i get a picture?" she asks, a nervous tone in her voice. you agree right away, "of course."

you lean into the girl as she takes a few selfies. then she moves back to her original seat next to her friends, a bright smile on her lips and giggling about how she met one of the best models in spain.

it's a surprise that more people haven't tried to approach you for a photo since it has been a good hour of you being in the stadium at this point and whether it is really you is not a question anymore. your popularity in spain and europe in general has been growing especially after your campaign with chanel. walking around barcelona and seeing your face in stores was crazy, but you just have to get use to it now.

you are a star.

and so is salma. you see star power written all over her as the players come back out for the second half. the tall girl smiles and waves at you just like she did earlier. ingrid pats her back, making her focus. you can tell she will definitely be teased about this later on and come complaining to you about it.

the match continues on with barcelona coming out strong with a fiery passion you can't help but to admire. when salma scores her third goal of the day, you swear you screamed the loudest.

right when the match is finished, with a barcelona win six to two against real madrid, you make your way down to the pitch alongside olga and alba. you get stopped twice by some fans, but eventually you make it down there.

"hi baby!" you smile as salma pulls you into her arms. the hug lasts for a few moments before the tall girl pulls away to look at you, "you look so pretty in my jersey."

"not as pretty as you looked playing," you say back to her, admiring how well she looks after playing a full 90 minutes. you two's eyes meet, making you both giggle.

before y'all can continue the conversation, vicky interrupts, walking right up next to salma.

"you didn't tell me your girlfriend was that pretty model we see in the beauty store all the time," vicky playfully glares at salma before smiling at you, "hi, i'm vicky, the better player between the two of us."

you laugh softly at how quickly salma's smile drops. she tries to push vicky away from the two of you, but fails because vicky grabs her arm, making them both almost fall.

"¿puedes dejar de intentar avergonzarme?" salma says, making away from vicky so she can pull you close.

"entonces deja de ser vergonzoso y no lo haré," vicky says back. she gives you another smile before moving away.

"she's so sweet," you say once the younger player is out of earshot. salma immediately gives you a playful glare that doesn't hold when you laugh at her expression. she kisses the laughter off of your lips, smiling when she pulls away, "she's a pain in my ass."

salma got pulled away for a post-match interview, so you ended up going with vicky into the locker room. sitting down in salma's cubby while talking to vicky about the most random of topics. at first you were a little hesitant about coming into the locker room when none of the players knew you personally, just yet, but vicky reassured you that it's fine and in the end it was as the other barcelona players didn't really care. too high off the win.

when salma comes into the locker room, she rolls her eyes when she spots vicky near you.

"is she bothering you, bonita?" salma comes to her cubby, pecking your forehead before looking at vicky. the younger girl rolls her eyes then shrugs, "i wouldn't call it bothering.. more like entertainment."

"well she doesn't need anymore entertainment from you so shoo."

vicky doesn't get a chance to make a cheeky reply back because alexia walks past, saying, "leave her alone, salma."

"what? i didn't do anything!" salma frowns but alexia is already over at mapi's cubby, obviously ignoring her words. vicky sticks out her tongue at salma before going to bother jana.

you giggle as salma frown intensifies, "it's okay, baby."

you go out with salma and the team later at night, happily celebrating the win. of course you tried to keep a low profile, but that failed when salma got some alcohol in her and decided to start going around talking about how she has the best girlfriend ever to random strangers. you stayed sober enough to get both salma and you to her apartment.

trying to get salma off of you, so you could do your skincare routine and brush your teeth was a struggle but she tired herself out, so she ended up falling asleep on the floor beside you in the bathroom. the tall girl resting her head against your leg, having just enough energy to wrap her arms around your leg.

"c'mon baby.." you move slightly so she wakes up. salma is not typically a pouter, but she pouts when she looks up at you.

you laugh softly but continue encouraging her to get up. "baby seriously. stand up so we can go to bed and cuddle all you want." salma perks up at the mention of cuddling. she stands, immediately hugging you and essentially putting all her weight on you. of course you stumble a bit because having all that muscle suddenly on you is not easy, but you don't fall over. slowly but surely you get salma and you to bed.

"hm.. goodnight," the spanish player says, snuggling up to your body. she is fast asleep when you say it back even though it only took you a minute or two.

"goodnight baby," you murmur against the top of her head.

in the morning, you wake up earlier than salma due to needing to get ready for a few shoots you have today. the extra time in the morning gives you some time to cook breakfast since you knew your girlfriend's hangover would be pretty bad. the woman in question stumbles into the kitchen right when the cooking is finished.

"buenos días hermosa," she says softly, coming up next to you to get a hug. she pecks your cheek before pulling away to go sit down at the counter.

"good morning, did you sleep well?" you plate the food, sliding one in front of salma before sitting next to her.

"yeah.. but my head is killing me," there goes another pout on salma's lips. you giggle, just gesturing the water bottle on the counter. she grabs it, chucking half of it before setting it down.

"better?"

"slightly," salma shrugs. then she starts to eat and you do too. a comfortable silence falls between you two, just the sound of forks scraping glass plates and the soft hums of satisfaction.

you get up first, moving to wash your plate. salma gets up not that long after you.

you slide over slightly so you both can stand at the sink. "what time are you leaving again?" salma asks.

"around ten, why?" you finish washing your plate, setting it aside to dry before looking at her.

"because i want more cuddles with my girlfriend and your job is intervening with that." with a flair of childishness salma looks away from you to look at her plate like it's entirely your fault you need to leave soon. you laugh at her little attitude, pecking her cheek before moving away from the sink. the clock was ticking and you really had to get ready soon if you were going to be on time to your first shoot of the day.

you slip away into salma's bedroom, having left enough clothes over her place to change into. you end up wearing some of hers anyways, but no body has to know about that part. it's when you're trying to decide how to do your makeup for today that your agent texts you. the specific ringtone you set for the woman rings out into salma's bathroom.

a sigh leaves your lips as you pick up the device, clicking on the message,

cynthia with the blonde bob

you're going absolutely viral on social media right now

the message makes you furrow your brows in confusion. you go viral quite often, but your mind doesn't immediately catch onto why you're going viral right now in particular. until you look in the mirror and see that you're wearing salma's t-shirt with her sweatpants. then you remember how you took a few photos with fans at the el clásico game; you're going viral because of your relationship. it's endearing, but a little frightening because your sexuality has never been discussed at the court that is social media, but you calm yourself.

your agent wouldn't be having such an enthusiastic tone if it was anything bad.

the first app you go on is twitter and your name is trending alongside fc barcelona,

alexiacouldsteponme

salma having a model gf was not on my bingo card for this year

lucysfavefangirl

wow salma congrats... 😭😭😭😭😭💔💔💔💔

inlovewithmapileon

y/n is one of the best models in the new generation and salma is one of the best players in the new soccer generation. power couple anyone?

and more tweets with a similar tone. most are about how they didn't expect you to be gay or how salma and you have matching braids or how good you looked in the stands.

"at least they're all positive," you say as you set your phone down.

"at least what is all positive?" salma walks up behind you, wrapping her arms around your waist.

"all your fans reactions to us," you say softly.

salma smiles, "they love you nearly as much as i do."

you laugh at her words then continue finishing up your makeup with a clingy salma attached to your back. she frowns when you actually have to leave, pulling you in for a good-bye kiss.

"love you," she smiles

"love you more, my superstar."

author notes: i love how it takes me ten business days to upload a fic after posting one, love it so much. anyways hope y'all liked it! it doesn't really go anywhere and is sorta boring but yk we ball 🔥🔥🔥

© THINKINGABOUTJAEDYN

[popironrye]

The Lost Boys

Leisure Headcanons

💋 David 💋

Is a skilled fire arm shooter. (Loves the cowboy aesthetic)

Has his own gun hidden in the cave.

Doesn't get the chance too often, but will ride a horse when the chance arises.

Likes wood carving. Mostly non specific whittling into basic shapes or animals. It helps him relax.

Movie nut! When the boys go the Max's store to fool around, David makes sure to tuck a movie or two that catches his eye in his coat. Tends to watch them alone, all the questions from Paul would just grate on his nerves too much.

I imagine David would be like REALLY good at origami for no particular reason. He doesn't even try, just once the boys do it just because and he's just the best at it.

I don't know if vampires can emerge in water in the lost boys lore, but if they can David loves to swim. Chilling in water clears his mind.

💀 Dwayne 💀

Skater boi! Does a lot of sick tricks, but when you can levitate it's less impressive. XD

Doesn't care for guns, but likes archery. Hammers his own arrow heads. Dwayne and David like to pick a spot in the woods to shoot make shift targets.

A real book worm. Will spend a lot of time just silently reading for hours.

Takes up knitting from time to time. He prefers hand knitted blankets and throws rather then the store ones.

Likes to make jewelry. Made his own necklace.

Enjoys all types of puzzles. Cross word, jigsaw, and brain teasers.

Can sew and offers to sew up holes made in all the clothes the boys decide not to get new ones.

🌿 Paul 🌿

Can play the guitar.

Also likes to sing, and is pretty good at it. Wanted to start a band, but the other boys weren't up for it.

Has the biggest music collection and is always hogging the tabletop/cassette/cd player.

Amateur photography. Just likes to take photos randomly. Some are really artsy.

Got really into tie dye for a while. Although he might have just been high.

When he wants to relax, Paul really likes to stargaze. Laying outside the cave looking at the sky and hearing the waves of the ocean just makes him feel at peace.

When David isn't using the tv monitor, Paul enjoys quite a few video games. He also likes to take on the arcade and carnival games at the boardwalk.

🪶 Marko 🪶

Aside from pigeons, Marko will try to domesticate a number of animals to the cave, including stray dogs, cats, deer, badgers, squirrel, foxes, bats, and even a black bear once.

He in fact did NOT domesticate a black bear, but he did wrestle one.

He does his own patchwork on his jacket.

Like David, he likes to sculpt into wood, but he usually carves patterns and landscapes into more grand pieces.

He's also a skilled painter. Mostly he'll paint murals on sections of the cave David says is ok for him to paint on.

He collects sea shells on the beach.

He'll style the others hair. Especially David who he'll cut and dye in the way he likes best.

🔥Pack Activities🔥

Dart throwing. The bigger the target the better. David and Dwyane are very competitive at this one specifically.

Rollerblading. Put wheels on shoes, what more can you want?

Listening to music. The boys have very wide music tastes and sometimes they cross over and they all like the same stuff. They take turns around the player of their choice to just smoke, drink, and listen to the sounds of the music plays.

Card games. Specifically poker when they're all together. They make things more interesting when they make bets.

And of course motocycle cruising and board walk loitering.

Something that always strikes me with vampires in fiction and indeed with any immortal creature with the high and emotional intelligence of humans. IMMORTALITY IS FUCKING BORING!

I mean, think about it. Imagine you're given all the free time in the world with very little responsibility with no fear of getting sick or tired allowed to do pretty much whatever you want. What would you do? Cause I would go stir crazy. So I came up with these dumb little head canons on how I image the boys specifically would pass the time in their little vampire lives that doesn't revolve around murdering and feeding off of people.

Of course cruising on their bikes come to mind. And there's a couple in the movie we get to see like Dwayne's skateboarding and Marko's fondness for pigeons but I wanted to throw more possibilities out there. :3