Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters
Trigger warnings : non consent/dubious consent, power imbalance, adult breastfeeding relationship, lactation kink, graphic depictions of violence, obsessive behavior, stalking, masturbation, sex, mentions of past sexual assault.
Pairings : Homelander x grey!reader
Summary: Vought industries hire you to give special services to thier vip asset and in return they take you out of your terrible living conditions. When you take on the job, you quickly realize, your nightmares have returned, and you are getting more than you agreed to.
Note: Your media consumption is your own responsibility, read the trigger warnings before proceeding. Comments and likes are always appreciated. Apologies for typos or grammar issues as English is not my first language. Enjoy
Your contract says you can't leave for a full year, for any other reason apart from bodily injury or serious illness that can prevent you from working. Ashley tells you all of this nervously, wringing her hands when you try to resign again, so you shut up and accept more sessions when she lays out the schedule in front of you.
You are expected to meet Homelander every week now without any breaks in the foreseeable future. You wonder if it had something to do with your outburst in Vought headquarters about your breasts not being able to handle the withdrawl.
=
He's ravenous today, suckling at your breasts like a man starved and you do nothing to detract or discourage him from the act. It's what you are paid for after all. So you sigh softly trying to sit up just a little bit without disturbing him because he has you streched out on your back, on the couch instead of the usual position with his head on your lap. It was your fault. You stupidly decided to tell him that your back hurts today and asked if you could somehow just recline a little.
'It would really help..sir, Homelander.'
Surprisingly, he agreed to this after first demanding to know why he should bother to accommodate your request at all. You tell him you it's because your monthly cycle is due this week, and everything tended to ache and feel sore around that time.
You thought this information will only serve to annoy him further, but he is oddly intrigued by it, and even notes when you unbutton your blouse to unclasp your bra that your breasts look slightly more swollen then usual. When you hiss at him experimentally squeezing of one of your breasts he doesn't take kindly to it and you're quick to apologise and explain yourself, 'It's just a little tender to touch...it won't happen again, I promise ...or if you want i can reschedule our appointment for tomorrow.' You add as a alternative, hoping he will seriously consider it.
But he's Homelander, you assume he's never liked to be told later, not now.
His face is unreadable as ever but you can guess his answer. He only hums looking you over for a moment and then decides to lifts both your legs up from floor and puts them on the couch, replying curtly, 'I'm the fucking Homelander, I'm not going to reschedule for tomorrow, so let's not waste anymore my time...shall we?'
He squeezes your calves with the barest hint of pressure and you gulp back a reply and lay against some cushions letting him manouvere you until he's satisfied. He hovers over you like a large, imposing cloud. It's more intimate than you would like too because their usual positioning atleast dwarfs him in size somewhat and made him a little less intimidating.
When he nudges a knee between your legs, you part them willing and let one of yous legs fall on the floor to give him more space.
After he's adjusted and bent over you, nuzzling your breasts, you try to relax and think of instrumental music or some book you've read, but it's hard to do that when you're with homelander. He can be extremely intense, and you're constantly hyper aware of where he's touching you, how much pressure he's applying, and whether that pressure could snap you like a twig at any given moment.
And although you feel more exposed and vulnerable overall, you're shocked when you slowly start to feel a familiar twinge between your legs due to the friction of his leg pressing between your thighs, its whenever he inadvertently rocks his hips with his mouth on your nipples you struggle not to whimper.
This was a bad idea. You should have kept your big mouth shut in the first place and should have just plastered a smile on your face instead of saying anything that encourages him to take any kind of liberties with you.
Well shit, too late for that now.
His knee slowly skates further up, almost near your ignited core and you start to squirm involuntarily in his grasp. Even his nuzzling your breasts lazily in between feeding on them is setting off sparks below your belly and you try to clench your inner thighs together, biting your lip, feeling the wetness casually starting to pool in your underwear.
Homelander senses the change in you and ignores your squirming for the time being. One of his hands secure your hip from moving higher and his knee wedged between your legs keeps your thighs frustratingly apart.
Your hands land flat against his shoulders, barely pushing and you grit your teeth trying to shake off your arousal mentally, but It's as if your brain is malfunctioning. Unable to focus on anything other than sensation of his tongue moving in slow circles around your areola. Licking away drops of milk you've leaked. It's making your toes curls with the effort to hold in a moan, and you softly ask to be let up instead.
Nothing happens.
For someone with super hearing Homelander either pretends he didn't hear you, or he's lost in his usual haze of breast milk and really isn't listening. So you start to close your legs and push his shoulders gently to get his attention. 'Wait, can we stop for a minute please? Homelander? I need to sit up.'
He carries on for a few minutes and you breath in and out slowly while your body convulses in unholy heat threatening to get worse. You groan loudly and he finally looks up, petulant and irritable with your rhythmic struggling, his eyes boring into you with searing intensity and you suddenly feel like a deer caught in the headlights, 'What the hell is the matter with you, you're being ridiculously irritating today?' When you don't answer or apologise right away he takes to gripping your thighs harder making you gasp with his bruising strength. You know there will be dark indents of his fingertips there tomorrow.
'Uhh, It's just..it's nothing, I was..I think I can sit up now, if you want...' You're rambling about nothing and you can tell even from here that he's tuned out your guilty mumblings because your heart is racing thunderously, giving something else away. Homelander might not be a good listener, but he's eerily perceptive about human things because his eyes start to slowly flick all over you, landing just below you're covered navel.
You're cringe wanting to sink into the couch and dissapear.
His smile spreads like danger over thin ice. It's sickeningly violent and completely sexy. You're face burns with shame and revulsion, but you're still unable look away from his cold gaze. You hate him, you hate him so much right now and he knows it.
'You're aroused...' He smirks settling back, regarding you with light amusement.
'Nnno..it's not..that...', You try to lie with a small voice and Homelander raises one of his eyebrows , 'No?..' He counters, his tone dangerously low, and you shake your head quickly.
It's a mistake because he pushes up the modest skirt your wearing all the way above your knees lightening quick while you only manage to choke in surprise. Before you can say, 'stop!' , he hooks his fingers into the wasteband of your cotton panties peeling them away, leaving you exposed to him, your lies plain enough for him to see in the well lit hall. He hums in amusement while your mouth opens and shuts uselessly. 'Interesting...you are very wet for someone who says they aren't aroused.'
Tears gather into the corner of your eyes and you bite back a sob, 'I'm sorry.'
He observes your distress clinically for a while and he gently pats your knee, 'That's alright Y/N...I understand..it happens.' His hand stays there unmoving.
You don't want to look at him, but he shifts into your line of sight after giving you all of one minute to compose yourself. 'However, you understand this is cutting into time I pay for.' He finally takes his hand away. 'We need to fix this so, i can carry on with what I need to do, why don't i help you out this one time.'
You watch him in confusion while he expertly tugs off his right glove, stretching his fingers with purpose, its when he wraps his warm hand around your ankle you understand he means to take care of your arousal, and it jump starts you into using all of your strength to struggle out of his grasp.
'No Sir! With all due respect, you will not do that!!. This is not what I agreed to when I signed the contract!' Your voice is a bit too loud right now and you know you could end up endangering your life more, but the idea of homelander fingering you and you enjoying it fills you with a different kind of terror you refuse to think about.
Before he can respond though, you quickly arrange your limbs into a sitting position and pull your skirt down firmly, pushing your hair back, 'I'm sorry that my 'distraction' ruined the time you very generously pay for, and i promise it won't happen again. Now, if you're okay with that and want to continue our session I'm happy to extend our time, but there will be no 'having' with me of any other kind whatsoever.' You finish resolutely, slightly out breath, trembling with anger and a fat chunk of fear which hopefully he can't tell because the way your heart thuds in your chest makes it difficult to differentiate between the two.
Homelander chuckles darkly at your outburst, retracting his hand. You almost faint in relief. 'You're right.' He admits still smiling thinly, 'A little disrespectful, but right nevertheless. Thankyou for your honesty. Let's carry on. I think i deserve to extend our time this session. You owe me that.'
You nod your consent, agreeing and he resides his head in your lap, settling into his regular position. He looks right into your eyes studying your plastered smile, eyeing your leaking nipples hungrily, not reaching for them immediately, 'And y/n, just for future reference, if you raise your voice like that with me again ..' He pauses, barely caressing your back with his ungloved fingers ' if you do that again, contract or no contract, there will be consequences. I hope you understand that.'
You say nothing, feeling too stunned to breath when you feel him patting you gently again, 'I will need you to tell me you understand.'
You shudder in his strong grasp, reply immediately, 'I understand Homelander.'
Your answer satisfies him and he carries on suckling from you like nothing ever happened while you sit numb and cold, with your hand stuck in his rich golden hair, counting the extra minutes until you can leave.
Later, when you're safe in the warmth of your bed at night, you decide to completely give into the vile urge of giving into your multiple desires by fingering yourself deep and hard, imagining the blue eyed monster watching you.
You come harder than you've ever come before in your life, saying his name in the dark. The high subsides and the lamps flicker in your apartment ominously before your eyes close, welcoming a warm sleep.
The weight if his gaze permeates through the thick walls of your apartment. He's so casual about stalking you that you worry it will burn a hole in your stomach. It's as though you can feel him some nights, live and pulsing, on the other side, while you are lying in bed quietly, even if you don't see or hear him.
You know he's out there.
One afternoon you're about to leave after your session with him when he calmly asks you what see in your nightmares when you sleep.
You stop the tedious buttoning up process and look up, carefully keeping your face neutral because if there's one thing you've learnt about Homelander in all these months is that he enjoys your fear. However hidden and fleeting it might be.
He enjoys in particular seeing what you'll do next after he's lit the match of anxiety in you, observing with the keen interest of a mad scientist. His little human experiment ready to blow up and entertain him.
You dont blow up, but you do answer with some semblance of fiegned sincerity, 'I'm sorry I don't know what you mean.' As if on cue, your fingers start to fumble when you go back to the buttons and you have redo some of them.
Homelander walks around you in slow contemplative circles, with his hands clasped behind him, cape swishing behind him submissively, waiting for you to be done. It's not in the least threatening, but your palms are already sweating and you're sure despite your efforts to keep a straight face he can read your pensive expression.
'Oh don't get upset...your privacy is yours.' He tells you mildly, 'I just want to know what goes on in that little world of yours, that's all.'
He stills behind you while you remain rooted to the spot, taut like a bow string. There are several things you want to say to him, but wisely keep them to yourself, forcing yourself to be polite instead. 'I..My world is pretty quiet Sir. Nothing special happening there. Nothing at all.'
Well, it was true mostly. You were boring, keeping to yourself most of the week. Only leaving the apartment if you have to see Homelander for your sessions, or if you absolutely have to for any day to day needs.
He hums with disappointment, making your entire body vibrate, and there's a slight sensation of an electric current that passes through your scalp when you feel his nose barely brush against your hair.
'That's unfortunate..'
You bite your lip wondering if he thinks your nightmares are about him. It would make more sense if they were really, but they were mostly a bizarre mixture of events which involved someone's death or you searching for a way home and never quite making it.
When he whispers in your ear conspiratorially, you almost lean into him involuntarily to give him better access, 'I like you Y/N...you don't just tell me what I want to hear unlike the others.'
His breath is hot in your ear when he continues, 'It makes me hard.'
Somewhere, in the recesses of your mind, you're sure he's heard you call out to him in the throes of indecent pleasure because when you turn your head to look back at him, his pupils look completely blown with lust.
You say nothing, it seems like the most appropriate response right now. He doesn't seem to want a vocal one from you, just a visceral reaction to his obscene statements, anything to psychologically pin you against the wall like a butterfly.
The spell breaks abruptly then. 'I'll see you soon.' He promises, walking away, while you mutter something agreeable under your breath watching him leave.The sky grumbles outside, mimicking your mood, and you realise you've neglected to bring an umbrella when thick rivulets of rain start to pour down the wall to wall windows.
The nurse keeps giving you dirty looks, making you feel even more whorish than your last visit. It's like she's trying to figure out whether you're going to be a problem for her. Every few weeks Vought's medical team sees you to make sure you're doing well, and have no glaring health issues.
They keep a track of your menstrual cycle, what you eat, how much you sleep, whether you exercise, and if you have any friends, your anxiety levels. You suspect they want to make sure you're mentally and physically stable enough to do your job for as long as the contract lasts.
After you complained to them about your body and hormones having a hard time coping with Homelanders demands, they immediately flew into action and started to run several diagnostic tests on you, some of which you don't quite understand, and they don't bother explaining to you.
The culmination of all these events was exactly what the nurse turned up with today. After your regular check up, you were handed a small vial which you're expected to knock back like a shot. It was filled with something thick, translucent green and it tasted awful.
At first, you refused to drink it because she wouldn't tell you what it's for. If something doesn't have label on it with ingredients or instructions you aren't going to take a chance with it.
Eventually, a tall, wiry man in glasses, and a doctor's lab coat sits with you, assuring you the green goop was specially formulated for your weekly needs. The properties of the liquid were meant to soothe you and improve your durability over the course of your job.
Improve durability.
You glare at him sullenly, feeling like a fucking mattress or a swing after that explanation. Rememnants of the alien vitamins slither down your throat leaving a bitter, uncertain taste in your mouth. Ugh. Once you've handed back the empty vial, he signs something on his clipboard.
'Let us know if you feel any abdominal discomfort or any other symptoms that concern you while you adjust to the vitamins.' Great, you think stomach lurching. This isn't even properly tested, you're meant to be the guinea pig here.
'We would also like for you to try and get some exercise a few days a week and encourage some social interaction ad your chart shows you never leave the apartment or have any sort of company.'
You mutter something barely discernable and the wiry lab coat guy leaves you to change back into your clothes.
There's a large TV on in the visitors lounge, and it blaring the news while you wait for a box of your special vitamins to be deposited in your arms to take back home with you for daily use.
You avoid the news most of the time because its either full of love or hate for the supes depending on the day of the week and the severity of the casualties listed. But Homelander's face is on the TV now and you can't seem to look away. He's there in his entire glory with the star spangled cape rippling heroically behind him, wearing his plastic theatrical smile, waving near the site of some overturned trucks while talking to star struck news reporter.
'It's going to be alright because you guys, YOU are the real heroes.'
The sight of his mouth moving energetically reminds you of his obscene admission to you a few days ago. You make me hard. And you start to feel faint thinking maybe that's the reason Vought medical needs you to become calmer and more durable.
Like a fucking mattress for their golden boy.
Oh fuck.
You leave the building without your special vitamins, rushing home in a blur, sliding down your locked door for faux comfort.
Vought medical delivers the vitamins to your doorstep that evening with a thinly concealed threat about future unauthorised sign outs.