# probably cerena

jealous!lester drops you off at work for the first time in a while and sees you have a new coworker.. he didn’t know their name, which was an issue.

jealous!lester lingers outside your workplace. he doesn’t want you making any stops on the way home. he just misses you so much <3

jealous!lester doesn’t like when that coworker makes you laugh. you always loved how funny your boyfriend was. nobody else was as witty, right?

jealous!lester keeps his small trinkets from times with you in perfect condition as his personal proof that you chose him. movie tickets, grocery lists, receipts.. his personal notes to you.

jealous!lester can’t ever hide his bitchy face when around your flirty friends or coworkers. he’s too obvious..

jealous!lester looks at a picture of you anytime his urges make him put his suit on. the first photo he took of you, alone from the back of your coffee study session. he feels the need to hold back for you.

jealous!lester uses his physical closeness to you to his advantage. he gets touchy the second he’s jealous, reminding you (and himself) that he can do it. nobody else.

jealous!lester subconsciously mirrors whoever makes him jealous. he’ll always end up breaking and asks you many times if he’s your sweet man.

jealous!lester kisses you extra anytime he notices someone new around. they got the message, but his lips flush hot when people watch.

jealous!lester kisses your cheek and holds your hand when your coworker ends up blocking you and quitting their job. he reassures you that some people aren’t meant to be close friends (we all know what happened).

jealous!lester takes his envy out on you in a way that pleasures you. he’s eventually on his knees and nudging his nose against your clit begging for you to tell him he’s the one and only. that he’s completely irreplaceable.

find my masterlist here

firstdate!john stammered cutely when introducing himself as john.. he hated it, but attempted to be normal. he questioned if you were a supe immediately and of course it came across as rude.

boyfriend!homelander loves being adored by you. he would do almost anything to catch your eye. he becomes entitled by your compliments and completely airheaded.

boyfriend!homelander asks questions that are really tests. “you would never leave me, right?” but your answer is never valid to him. “am i still your favorite person?” but he brings up a coworker he saw you talk to for too long.

boyfriend!homelander has used every power in his disposal to keep watch over you. stalking you at work, intimidating crime analytics to keep your location, or paying a supe patsy to cause trouble around you, but never directly attacking you.

boyfriend!homelander would kill for you and has before. he gets mad and hot about any disrespect towards you or the smallest threat. rude boss? friend that disapproves of him? they’re gone.

boyfriend!homelander expects complete loyalty. no talking about your exes, no talking about anything outside of you two in any relationship context. strict program with him.

boyfriend!homelander doesn’t ask when you’re free for dates or time together. he’s used to people moving their schedules around for him. he doesn’t let go of superiority habits quickly.

boyfriend!homelander doesn’t understand boundaries. he’s clingy all next to you, gets offended when you lock doors, shakes you rudely to get your attention. very touchy in public for his own greed and the cameras. to him, two birds with one stone is copping a feel and getting headlines.

boyfriend!homelander gets so frustrated, he genuinely thinks about taking it out on you. he creates all of his own stress, but will find some way to snake you into it. you’re one of the very few in his (minimal) personal life, it only makes sense!

boyfriend!homelander feels intimate about almost anything. hearing your heartbeat, touching his face sweetly, or you picking up on the first ring. he’s spent a long time without proper examples of what love is, so he takes just about anything.

boyfriend!homelander isn’t pleased when his knees aren’t bruised enough from kneeling for you. he’d spend hours underneath you.

find my masterlist here

from the couch came the sound of your boyfriend’s boots to your bedroom where he leered at your sprawled legs struggling to stay open. you thumbed at your clit needily and stretched yourself with two fingers, babbling pope’s name pathetically.

you didn’t know when he’d be home, but the fix to the wet mess between your thighs couldn’t wait. you started before he entered and when he caught you, pope had more than enough to say about it.

he held your neck from the back tightly and forced you eyes straight forward, “you could’ve texted me, pretty girl, and asked for my permission. stop acting like you didn’t ask for this.”

the small smile on your lips grew as pope unzipped his jeans and nudged his bulge against your bare ass. he sprung his cock free with no hint of amusement and huffed as he loosened his grip on your airway. pope spit in his hand and ran his touch along your slit, murmuring like he was pissed off and you were his only option of release.

he swirled his tip up and down your pussy, “you wanna feel me in there, hm?”

you nodded with a weak ‘yes’ and pressed your ass back onto him. he pulled back and moved both of his hands low and on your hips, holding them steady as a glob of spit left his pursed lips. pope eased his tip against your ass, slipping into your tight hole with resistance.

“how about there? don’t like that, do you?”

a sharp whine came from you, making it clear that this was an effective punishment of his. pope spit again, landing on his tip as he guided his cock in and out of you. he was always careful and gentle, but the sight of you pleasuring yourself riled him up.

“please, pope, you don’t have to—” you cried and reached back for his thigh.

he smacked your hand away and forcefully tucked them closer to your chest. you whimpered as he sped up; his cock grew wet, harder, and easier to take.

pope pulled out to see the damage, pleased with the sight of you instinctively reaching to rub and soothe your asshole. he grabbed your hand and hummed, kissing your fingertips. “i shouldn’t need to tape you closed to keep you from touching yourself without me in the room, sweetheart, okay?”

he leaned forward, cock stretching you again, and held himself there as he kissed your cheek and the outside of your ear. his hips rocked back and forth into you, hitting deeper and making your thighs clench uncomfortably.

“i won’t do it again, andy, i love you.. please.”

your boyfriend huffed. his big thighs smacked your ass and he felt your hole tense when he mocked you. “you love me? yeah?”

you nodded and teared up, “yes, baby.”

he whispered in your ear and held your body close to tell you he loved you just as much and more, “that’s why i need to teach you the hard way, bunny, cause i care.”

slowly typing in his username and password, which he didn’t know how to nor did he want to save automatically, pope adjusted himself in his seat awkwardly, touching his hair and mumbling greetings he likely wouldn’t use.

it started a little before he got out of prison; he wanted connection and from good behavior, he got limited access to computers. the guards couldn’t blame him, you were a sight to look at. always in a mini skirt and cleavage showing, moving around like nobody’s business. when you started allowing private video chats, pope was the first to sign up.

you accepted the call and watched at his face lit up nervously, a flow of blood rushing to his cheeks. “hi, pope,” you smiled sweetly as usual and giggled.

he shook his head, “i said last time you can call me andrew. you can call me whatever you’d like.”

noted.

“okay, andrew. i like how eager you are to see me. have you been busy?” you asked.

he tilted his head from side to side, reluctant to answer, but being sucked in by your pretty lips and even prettier eyes. he felt shame for reaching for his zipper so early. the one time he was home alone and he knew he needed to use it wisely.

pope spoke up, a hint of sarcasm in his words, “it’s hard to be busy when you’re.. getting back to people. ever since i was released, i mean.. yeah.”

he cut himself off in fear of sounding pitiful, which was the last thing he needed you to see. he massaged his thumb against his clothed tip, feeling the denim tent under his touch.

“you’re so needy, we just started, sweetheart,” you smiled.

pope’s eyes flickered down to his leaking precum and shifted his jeans to his knees, “sorry, i just really, really missed you.”

tension in his chest rose as he caught himself holding his breath. the poor man sighed and shivered from the breeze that touched his bare stomach as he slowly lifted off his shirt and set it away. pope grabbed his laptop screen and tilted it down to show you how hard he was.

“take your pants off for me, andrew.”

he did as you said, every word, until he was stripped in his boxers with his cock exposed and hot from his touch. pope’s breath hitched as he looked at his screen every few seconds, watching you as you fingered yourself. on the edge of your bed was a toy he requested beforehand, a small black bullet vibrator he begged for you to bully your clit with.

pope whined, “wanna see you so bad. i wanna feel you,” he hissed as he spurted cum faster than he thought he would, not stopping his jerking movements. “let me buy you more toys.. only for me to see.”

just on the edge of release, you struggled to reply if he even wanted one; his tone was between demanding and desperate.

“as long as you pay for them, okay?”

he nodded and squeezed his tip with a clenched jaw, eyes bored onto his screen as he reached to split his tabs.

pope’s hand never left his cock as he transferred money over. he felt himself grow harder at the thought of boxes being delivered to you and watching you open them to use your new toys. he wanted the best quality for you; he wanted everything he sent engraved with his initial.

your hips bucked at the vibration and you spread your legs further to show him how wet you were before leaking cum on the sheets with a soft moan.

“i hate that you’re behind a screen,” he breathed out, “please?”

he wanted to touch you, really touch you. and pope would spend the rest of his time planning a date. the thought of spending time with you lessened his worry about his brothers finding out what he used most of his cut from the job for.

the ring was empty, only blood and sweat stains to show proof that pope put up a fight. he sat at your kitchen table with a pouty attitude and stiff muscles.

“rolling with the punches isn’t just a phrase,” you smirked and shifted your position on his lap. your tongue poked from between your lips as you focused hard on the gash in his forehead. pope’s cuts were well accompanied by bruises and swelling.

not so much that it ruined his cute face, he’d say, but noticeable. the red flush to his face grew as your rocked back and forth for a better angle of his injuries.

pope’s large hands made their home on your hips, rocking you into him and rubbing warmth into your skin through your shirt. “i’m not gonna remind you to ice, do you understand?”

he absentmindedly nodded and stared up at you as you dabbed his wound with rubbing alcohol and held it there. seconds after, he hissed and his brows furrowed angrily, but his response was polar opposite to his expression, “yeah.. mhm.”

you held back a small smile and dabbed him again, pressing harder and gently grinding your hips against his boxing shorts. they were a thinner black nike pair that made his cock more than visible, especially as he got harder.

“see what you do to me?” he shut his eyes and laid his head back with a huff.

a small glance down and he lifted your chin right back up. “on me, please,” pope demanded, settling his hand back on your waist. his hips bucked up into yours, pressing his tip against your clit. the growing precum spot on his shorts got harder to ignore once it leaked through against your thigh.

pope took your arm and adjusted it back to work on his beaten face. “don’t stop taking care of me and i won’t stop taking care of you,” he mumbled with a hint of sass.

you switched out the gauze for a clean one with more alcohol and pressed it against his forehead cut, making his wince and twitch in his pants. his cock throbbed and moved, needy to cum inside you. the touch on his head fell to his bare shoulders, gauze still in clutch.

pope’s moans grew even more lewd by the second, urging your shorts to ruffle his aggressively. he held your hips, feeling his tip glide against your slit like you were made for him. he was completely desperate for you, willing and greedy to take pain if it meant he was this close to you.

your thumb pressed into one of his dark bruises, pushing and twisting per his quiet demands. “just right there, harder—” his groans came out long and low, his lips attaching to your neck.

“keep using me, sweetheart, all you want,” he grumbled.

it was less than an hour when he found you. matt was silent his entire way to the rooftop just enough to listen out for your sniffles. your wrists cooled down from the burn of trying to wiggle out; blood rushed to your face and made you grow hot. his boots hit the concrete; you lifted your head.

although he couldn’t see you, matt could no longer hear your skin ruffling against your suit or the sound of your belt holding weapons he passed down to you.

“you’re..” with a deep breath, you choked on your spit and shook your head, embarrassed, “i know. please, help me down, matt.”

he listened closely to your heartbeat, an elevated and rapid thumping that hurt his head if he got too close. as he stepped closer, he was almost upset with you.

matt huffed, “who told you not to come out here alone?” you lowered your head as he stood directly in front of you with a scowl, “who?”

“you.” a weak reply.

his gloved hands reached for your legs first, having to feel around the knot first. they were tight, definitely lester’s work. matt didn’t know where to start with them, they were placed and tied unlike any kind of restraint he’s felt.

without warning, he moved his hands up to your thighs, just as restrained, then your hips. his gloves slicked all the way to your chest, cupping your tits to feel the rope under them. his breath grew hotter as he moved close to feel your shoulders and near your back. his touch reached up to your hands.

unable to move or flinch away, you whispered, “matt.”

matt shut his eyes tiredly, feeling tested and disgusting. his thoughts were so distasteful to him, but he couldn’t help but think about what lester did with you like this.

he neared his lips to your neck, just below your ear, “forgive me.” he placed an open mouthed kiss down on your sweaty skin and bit softly.

“for what?”

“not you.”

matt held your hips close against his, slicking your wetness onto his suit. “tell me you want me,” he pleaded.

your hips bucked involuntarily, “please, matt, anywhere but here.”

“let me hear it.”

you whimpered and clenched your thighs together, hearing your pussy squelch in need. matt kissed down to your tits and sucked hard until marks formed. he pulled away and took a deep breath, sinking to his knees, face level to your pussy.

his gloves only massaged your thighs, squeezing and holding them for himself. he couldn’t bring himself to do it, “hold still.”

only then did he begin to untie your legs. the tips of your boots hit the ground and he worked his way up, grazing your nipples as he tore at the rope as best he could. matt was a man of restraint, but he let it leak tonight.

he held your hands together, not letting them go until you answered him.

“when we’re somewhere else.”

he nodded and turned his head towards the general direction of his apartment. he helped you cover up as much as he could, roaming his hands on you aimlessly. matt cleared his throat and looked down, “i’m glad you’re okay.”