𝜗୧ ⸝⸝ Thinking about sexually repressed 𝓕irecracker who sneaks into your Vought tower suite to find relief from the stress of working under Homelander. ( 18+ )
“He’s so fuckin’ mean. He was such a jerk today,” she mutters into your swollen mouth, riding your thigh with vigour, her own knee pressing up against your pebbled clit.
You lazily nod along to her words, grinding your bare cunt against the soft pale skin of her thigh, searching for the same friction she’s eagerly seeking out against your leg.
A low whine tumbles out of her mouth—her red lipstick messy and smudged down onto her chin—as you rub harder against her, tugging her head back by her hair.
Lowering her face beneath yours, your gaze peruses down over her soured expression. “You’re not much better, y’know? Running around, chasing after that maniac like some sad neglected puppy.”
Firecracker groans, half-heartedly protesting while her face scrunches in pleasure, despite your words. Her teeth nip up at your lower lip, and she whispers, “Don’t call ‘im that. What happens when he blasts through that door and guts you for speakin’ about him that way, hm?”
“Well, I guess you’d lose your little stress toy, wouldn’t you?” you breathe out superciliously, the corners of your mouth curling up into a knowing smirk, watching her face twitch—the same way it always does when you press into that open wound. “It’s too bad… ‘cause you need me. You pretend you hate this, but you need it. I know you do. You always keep coming back to me… to this. For this.”
She tries to scoff, as if your words hold no truth, but the way her body arches into yours says it all. She does need you. You’re the only thing keeping her sane in this artificial hellscape, even if it’s too painful for her to admit.
“Shut up,” she finally murmurs, almost begging as her hips roll against yours again. Her mouth falls into a petulant frown, her cerulean eyes forlorn and rounded in need, searching between yours. “Just fuck me with your fingers already. I’ll be good, I promise. Whatever you want from me. Just need to distress and I’ll be good again, I swear it.”
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summary; in which, you a supe with healing powers happen to make the most religious american hero question her whole indetity after saving her life
tw; internalized homophobia, mentions of death and violence, broken bones, reader gets a backstory and powers, reader is suggested to be bisexual, readers body described as "athletic", body issues, no use of y/n, suggested smut, mutual teasing, cut the tension with a knife, probably a fucked up timeline of season 5
word count; 3k
author's note; english is not my first language (sorry for any grammar mistakes lol) and i have not written anything for good 5 years so bare with me! second part is planned to be posted at some point
part 1 | part 2
"you can say it's just the way you are"
| your family was never religious. that's the first important thing. the second one is that they gave you compound v, cause your father was a crazy superhero fan and your mom wanted you to be safer in this big grown up world. they also had a werid amount of money when they found out they are expecting (which didn't happen when your brother was about to be born). they never told you the whole "you were chosen by god" story, cause they didn't believe in god. in preschool you said that to your also supe best friend that happened to be the daughter of a very religious headmaster of the school and you got kicked out when she told that to her dad. you never attented any human class after that but that was to be expected. what wasn't expected was when your brother was barely four and you two years older got into a big siblings fight and you broke every single bone in his body with one scream. he never walked or spoke to you again. your mom was more forgiving, but also became his full time caretaker so you hadn't really spend a lot of time with her ever again. your father on the other hand thought that breaking (and healing like u later figured out) bones was the coolest power you could've ever gotten and did every thing he could to get you to work in vought.
vought decided that your skill set wasn't appealing enough to become a hero. your eyes didn't glow. you couldn't fly. noone could honestly seriously hurt you so dramatic fights wouldn't sell. yeah, sure you could stand 20 metres away from the president of united states and his spine would break in half with a blink of your eyes but literally nobody would notice that it was even you.
fortunely for you, your powers worked the other way also. you could heal any bones or bone tissues in anybody, children, grown ups, humans, supes, even the ones like homelander or queen meave. so you got your own floor in vought tower, stash of medical books to study and became their private physiotherapist. to say at least you got the most of it. before moving there you haven't even thought if heroes like them get hurt or experience any pain that needs healing and girl you were wrong. the deep was at your floor at least once every day and you were pretty sure he was just trying to get into your pants but you didn't care much. for some reason the medical bed and low lights made every person who came to you weridly open and honest. maybe they just didn't treat you seriously enough to think you would do anything about what they where telling you. hell, most of them had no idea that you knew exactly which bone to break to kill someone in few seconds. they just saw you as a girl that would make their sore muscles hurt less and listen to their problems. at first you would just nod and hum in response focusing on doing the most with the least amount of actual touch but with time you got more and more confident. your comments would get more honest, with more bite in your words and to your pleasent suprise everyone would laugh and smile, say that they like you and talk even more. two years in this job you could ask them straight forward question with small sarcastic remark at the end, so it wouldn't sound too serious and they would say so much that if ashley heard anything of it she would have an actual heart attack.
the first time you froze at one of their confessions was when a-train said that he had to kill his girlfriend, cause she worked with some guy named butcher. you had no idea who butcher was. honestly, you had no idea about anything happening on the other floors than yours. supes shared their personal issues and sex stories not crimes they comitted on daily basis. you didn't live in a fairy tale thinking that they were like "the avengers" your dad loved so much but that made yours hands freeze mid-air anyway. reggie unfortunately was the type of guy who even when running on drugs would notice a lot. for half of a second you imagined him running you into a wall, but then realized that you can break his legs right now before he thinks of that. noone if it happend. he asked you if you thought that it makes him a bad person and you answered that the world is too grey to judge people like that. putting your 4yr old brother in a wheelchair was probably worse than quick death in your opinion anyway.
reggie started coming more often. he also told you about using drugs and how his heart wasn't catching up. you felt actually sad that your powers couldn't help with that. you really didn't mean to start caring about him but he was the first person to ask anything about you too and not just talk about how his milion dollar suit squeeze his balls. the two of you became friends that sometimes would blur the line between friendship any maybe something more than that. everything stayed subtle, because close relationships under homelander's roof where like a death wish but it worked for you anyway. some werid shit was happening outside so nobody payed attention to the two of you spending evenings on the roof. starlight joining the seven was also a great distraction for everybody. she came to you maybe twice and you told reggie right after that you give her two months here before it completely breaks her. to be honest being in the spotlight like that would probably break you too but you never said you are not a hypocrite, right?
you were terribly right. maybe not about the amount of time she survived in vought, but about it breaking her and a lot of thing besides her too. the name "butcher" would be heard way more in the tower and at some point you heard it from reggie too. he was splitting between the seven and the other side of the coin. you didn't comment much, you knew this place is fucked and doesn't do anything they are saying they are doing. you weren't even a couple honestly, few kisses didn't make you someone to question his choices or show that you so obviously care about his safety. he cared about yours too, so somewhere when two new supes joined the pretty empty squad of the seven, he told you about the supe-killing virus. few weeks later he was on the run around the whole world and you where still stuck on your medical floor, carrying knowledge that would get you killed if homelander knew how to read minds and two new supes orbiting you like you would be on fire.
"with her arms out like an angel through the car sunroof"
| sister sage, the smartest person on the planet or something like that (your mom would cry from happines if you would get that type of powers) talked to you once in the elevator. brefily saying that you could do much more than you are already doing and that she won't be needing your medical help. for the next few days you imagined how you tell her that you know and break her neck right there. is she smart enough to fix it herself?
the second supe was firecracker. she stayed away from you doing her dumb, cute propaganda and kissing the ground homelander walks on for a pretty long time. you started to wonder if she even knows you exist there but you weren't exactly sad that she didn't come to see you. come on, you are probably the less religious and the most aware of the whole circus person there so what would the two of you even talk about. she was pretty though. her accent would make you raise your head up at the tv when she talked. yeah, you would roll your eyes at what she was saying but you still listened. your coursity about who she is behind that media mask started to get the best of you and god you hated how often you thought that you actually want her to come to you.
if god actually is there he must be a telepath because your deeply hidden wish had been heard. soldier boy was just about to exit your room (yes, he came to you often, he had a mission to use every free thing vought offered or at least that what it looked like cause you couldn't do much with your powers to a supe with v1 in his blood) when she entered. head up, suit so tight around her chest that you thanked ashley you didn't get you one and that perfect mastered controlled smile. they passed eachother in the doorway and soldierboy looked at her ass so not subtle that you wanted to throw up. women are capable or showing attention so much better than men and you were really glad you usually liked women more. you exchanged few brief medical words before she sat on your bed. something about tightness in her ribcase and neck. you stood before her looking not so subtly from her head to her thighs, up close her makeup looked more smudged and eyes more tired, like she would be holding that smile with pure willpower. her whole body was tense in a way that your powers would catch, she was sucking her stomach and definitely trying to slow down her hammering heartbeat. was she nervous about how close you were standing or was she just on a verge of breaking down like half of the people here? you couldn't care much about that, cause whenever she liked it or not you had to touch her to figure out whats going on. breaking bones didn't need a physical contact, that was purely based on some type of telekinesis, you learned in supe-highschool but everything else you medically knew did. you lifted your hands and placed them on her arms and she took such a sharp breath in that you immediately looked her in the eyes.
- you okay? - the question left your mouth before you could even think, that you usually ignore reactions like that and do your thing till they are not actively telling you to stop. which they are not, cause supes hate being in a vunerable position more than anything else.
- yes - quick, sharp and followed by avoiding any eye contact with you. her chest lifted heavly but slower like she manged to control it finally.
you moved your hands slow and deliberately on her arms towards her neck looking straight in front of you so she wouldn't feel your eyes on her. her media persona so confident and proud of her belives, so sure of what she was saying and so perfect in eyes of many people was basically non-existential here. you couldn't quite figure out if she was seriously just pretending all the time or if someone touching her in a simply professional way was so personal for her to make her so nervous. and here few years ago you thought starlight was in a shithole. your hands finally settled on her neck and you used your powers simply to feel her bones there.
- jesus - you said feeling how every part of her muscles there was so tense, even for a supe it must be painful as fuck to carry it like that - sorry, forgot that it he is your thing
- relax sweetheart, not everything you hear is true - her accent slipped so naturally around the petname that now it was your turn to get tense. yeah, definitely you shouldn't like it this much.
she seemed to gain her personality back after that, even show you a less polished version of a smile when you said it's good to know that. you fixed her neck when the conversation drifted naturally towards some random things. you couldn't really help but tease her about what she is saying but she seemed to enjoy that you were actually a person with a opinion and not just a head-nodder. or maybe she just liked being listened to. you were about to ask her to lay down so you could work on her ribs or whatever was bothering her lower, when she declined saying that she needs to go film something. it was rushed again like in the first minutes of your conversation, like if the realization that you are going to touch her there finally hitted. it's not like you could hold her hostage so you nodded.
- i be back though, doctor - she said walking towards your door with that perfect smile and visibly more movement in her head
- sure firecracker - you smiled at her slightly teasingly, liking the way she called you a "doctor" when few minutes earlier she dead seriously accused you of probably not having any medical degree and you agreed with that.
"shoot another shot, try to stop the feeling (well, i told you so)"
| misty tucker grey was officially fucked. firstly she absolutely hated, when someone would examine her body and that was the main reason she waited so long from going to see you. the other reason she would pray away as a teenger was the way how nervous other girls made her. first was starlight but she found an explanation that she simply was jealous of her, but unfortunately there where many more than starlight later. when she was running her small, poor podcast before homelander recruited her, every time a women would comment that she besides being right is also pretty her stomach would twich. she never did anything about it, it was a sin right? and she enjoyed sex with men of course she did, maybe she hated how mostly it was just a one-night stand, how they would never listen to her talk about anything, how after she joined the seven she would be asked to stay in the suit cause it shaped her body better. but she liked having sex. she would come. mostly.
sleeping with soldier-boy had one downside for her. he was way stronger and way bigger. her heart was already fucked from the medication she took for homelander and her back would be already locked tight from sitting and keeping her posture all the time. after sleeping with him she felt like she had a very intense training session with every bone and muscle in her body and she never had an actual training session in her life. that left her with either going to see the vought physiotherapist so she could stay flexible for him or just pushing through the pain, that would get unbearable sometimes and she knew supes like homelander would sense it or worse point it out. the choice seemed pretty obvious and thats how she ended up passing her latest sleeping partner in your doors. she expected a typical looking female doctor in some white scrubs and hair tight up, maybe glasses. instead here you where with your wavy hair loosely around your shoulders, tight top that made your pretty atheltic body show more and sweatpants. you know that type of sweatpants, that when a men wears you can easily see what you will get in bed? yeah, that type of sweatpants and maybe she couldn't see anything that usually would make her imagination go further but her heart still sped up at the sight of you.
shit, she had no idea what exactly your powers are and if you could sense how nervous she was. you where being so professional for the first few minutes, that she started to see this visit not as her offical end but the second she sat down and you looked at her from head to toes with that focused sight she was fucking gone. she sucked instinctively her stomach, like she was doing since childhood and straightend her head to look as composed as possible, she was failing miserably but that was her last choice. why is being treated by a physical therapist so intimate? it can't be because you are an absolutely stunning women and so close to her, she just fucked soldier boy last night who cares that she couldn't even come this time. you didn't make it easier after touching her even though misty at least didn't jump at that feeling, you where gentle like you actually cared. well of course you care, it's your fucking job. then you made that stupid joke about jesus and she managed to answer back with her voice calm, you answered back and within the next 20 minutes, when she finally could move her head around firecracker found herself with a honest smile and werid want to continue this conversation. you were honest, you didn't sugar coat the fact that you are not a believer but you also didn't make her feel dumb for doing what she was doing, you asked her questions about what she said and throw few remarks that made her automatically tease you back. you looked like you liked it, like you liked her? her genuine enjoyment of the situation was ruined by a realization that you seemed to be done with her neck and she mentioned before that her ribs where also a problem. there was no fucking way she is going to lie down and let you touch her so gently like you did with her neck. at this point it stopped being about her body even though she wouldn't admit out loud. no girl ever in her life touched her there in any way and you weren't any girl - you were smart, kind to her and pretty. not pretty in a way that made misty want to cry, that she doesn't look like you but in a way that she wanted to see you more often and she would definitely not have the courge to do that after she would absolutely loose her shit. so she excused herself, even though it was late after 10pm and there was nothing to film anymore. when u nodded she couldn't help but say that she will comeback.
- sure, firecracker - jesus christ save me, the way you said her alias made her feel like she is going to pass out in a second, and that smile? that smirk you send her? misty was sure that it was stronger than homelander's laser eyes.
so yes, she knew she was fucked after that. she chased male validation her whole life to a point when she breastfeeded a grown ass men that now decided that he is jesus. no, sorry he is god not a son of a god. she is fucking an american icon whenever she generally wants and gets praised by him minewhile. she is also actively ruining her childhood-bully image and half of the country agrees with her. why the fuck the only thing on her mind right now is you? she wanted to be like girls, not with girls, this never fucking worked like that. it shouldn't work like that. it was just a quiet jealousy not an admiration, she was sure of that for such a long time till now.
firecracker left the elevator on her floor, ignoring her hammering hearbeat, she still felt and how painless her neck now was. her head was pointed up again, posture straight making her regret not asking for help with the ribcase, her footsteps echoed through the empty corridor. she coughed in her hand once to regain the mask fully and push any further run of thoughts back. there is just no fucking way. she is not a sinner. she has soldierboy. she has everything she ever wanted. she loves it. she is not running herself into the ground on fear. she did not felt heard and taken care of, first time in ages by you. it's just your job, you probably smirk and smile like that at everyone, that's just your thing. misty made her way to now a very well known room for her and knocked, she needs to get a grip and go enjoy what she always enjoys. the door unlocked slowly and her way smaller posture got quickly shadowed by a bigger shirt-less soldierboy. yes, this definitely will help.
"i just wanna love someone who calls me 'baby'"
a/n; im allowing myself to tag the two persons who commented on my post talking about writing this, sorry if you are not interested! please like, reblog and comment what are your thoughts and if you would like a continuation!
Summary: Set in 4.02. Sometimes the most forbidden pleasures happen in secret, in a convention center bathroom.
Warnings: 18+, dark subject matter. Read at your own risk.
Notes: @revleftshark and @jae-fae were both absolute babes, indulging me and helping with research.
Editor: @midnighthazemeow (best editor ever)
"I'm so fucking close!" you grunted.
It took everything in you to say those words, to spit them out right on the edge of pleasure, so fucking close you could almost taste it.
So close… yet so far away.
At the literal hands of the person, you shouldn't have trusted — not with this, not with yourself — yet, for some unexplained, fucked up reason, she had more — way more — than just your trust.
She had your heart.
You had given it to her.
Stupidly.
Willingly.
A tragedy in the making, you were sure, but it was moments like this that made it worth it. That made her worth it.
Pathetic.
"Don't I know it, babydoll?" Firecracker teased, dragging the pet name out in that drawl of hers, the one she knew you found delectable. A cat with a mouse in its sharp claws, playing with her food for as long as the situation allowed — not nearly as long as you would have preferred (she had a show to host, after all), but enough to get you all hot and bothered, to release some of the tension a day like this always brought you.
Technically, you weren't even supposed to be here. If you were to attend TruthCon — and that was a big if; conspiracies, especially the far-right kind, weren't your thing, but Firecracker always invited you as a courtesy. You were supposed to blend in with the crowd of nutsos she performed for, just another sheep in a herd of suckers that had no idea they were being used. Just another forgettable — or so they were supposed to think — face in the blinding crowd.
But Firecracker knew these escapades always turned you on, so she snuck you in as she had many times in the past. And now, here you were…in her bathroom, pressed against the wall with one of her hands keeping you up on your trembling legs and the other one on your soaking pussy. Her perfectly manicured fingers gliding in and out of your swollen lips in that all too familiar thrust that somehow always felt new and exciting.
"God, you're wet," Firecracker groaned in absolute delight, like she couldn't believe she did that to you. Like she'd never done it to you before. "All that for me?" she whispered in your ear.
Always. You swallowed a gasp. "All for you."
"My honey's so good to me." Her forehead fell against yours, eyes glued to your crotch housing her teasing hand. "So good."
You knew what that meant.
Your pussy pulsed with the same anticipation that made your heart burst.
"Do it," you said meekly, at her full and utter mercy. A lamb for her to slaughter.
Firecracker smirked. "Do what?"
She wanted — needed — you to say it. To ask for it. To beg for it.
But what would be the fun of that?
"Come on. Do it." You whimpered breathlessly.
That elicited a snort that had no right to be that adorable. "I don't know what it is you want from me. You're gonna need to be clearer," she teased. Her lips curved in a menacing smile.
"Do the thing."
"What thing?"
"Come on."
"I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice rose in feigned ignorance.
"Please?"
She nuzzled your nose like the sweet, innocent thing she never was. "Please what?"
"Make me come."
You were so close. So, fucking close. A single spark was all you needed to push you over the edge. A teeny, tiny flash to ignite the fire that was brewing within you, a volcano begging to erupt.
"And how do you suppose I do that, sweet pea?" Firecracker asked in her loveliest tone.
Your hand slid down, fingers slithering over to hers. You looked her in the eyes. A command without a single word. An order she knew she had to obey for it delighted her as much as it did you.
"Please." You whispered desperately, your tongue licked your parched lips.
That one was a gift, a tease of what was to come tonight if she were to do as told.
Firecracker moaned.
Then she clicked her fingers and static exploded on your clit, one titillating shock after another like your own, private fireworks show, one of a kind, made for your pleasure only.
And, just like that, you were undone.
It hit you in an instant, a wave of everything that's been building up, that's been coiling and curling and brewing spilling over and tipping you over the edge. Your already weakened legs buckled; Firecracker, instinctive as she was, tightened her grip to keep you grounded.
A few sparks. That was all it took to render you a sopping, writhing mess in her hold.
The woman had too much power over you.
Yet, as inexplicable as it was, you didn't regret giving it to her.
Not for a single moment.
"There you go," Firecracker whispered directly in your ear, her accent thick and delicious, exactly as you liked it. The same voice that had managed to swindle hundreds, and here it was, helping you come down from your intense high. The dizzying rush that fired from every single synapse that she herself had inflicted on you.
A part of you felt proud. Exhilarated.
What her audience wouldn't give to be in this position.
What her weirdo friend whose gaze always lingered on her a little too long, Splinter, wouldn't give to trade places with you.
What those nutjob alt-right men who clung to her every word as if it were gospel wouldn't give for a sliver of what she was exultating upon you.
That was the difference between you and them.
What she was giving you wasn't some manufactured nonsense.
It was real.
It was true.
Hidden away in a convention center bathroom because she had an image to uphold, after all, but true, nonetheless.
"There's my good girl," she praised in your ear, the vibrations sending another jolt down your spine.
"Oh, fuck, that was…" The rest of your sentence was taken over by a gasp. You moaned long and hard.
You struggled to force your legs to behave, your knees buckled to keep your body upright without her help. Your heart thumped rapidly against your ribs, pounding so forcefully as if trying to escape the cage of your chest. You took slow gulps of air to steady yourself.
How is she capable of leaving you so breathless?
A shit-eating grin spilled over Firecracker's mouth. "There's plenty more where that came from."
After what seemed like forever her hand lifted off your folds. Her fingers, slick and sticky with your release. All that you’d given her, with what she'd taken from you, seamlessly clicked.
A spark ignited.
Crack.
The mere sound was enough for your pussy to clench with want, with need for more, more, more.
She really was a firecracker. In all the best ways.
"You promise?" you said with a smile, which elicited one of her own.
"You know it. But first…" Her eyes trailed your swollen lips before she shoved her drenched fingers in her mouth and licked them clean off, all the evidence of you gone as if you'd never stained her skin.
It stung, not that you would ever admit it. The people out there — her fucked up fans — should know that she was yours. The selfish, possessive part of you wanted all of them to know. They should know that, as much as they fantasized about her, it was you she went to bed with almost every single night. It was you she called the sweetest names and whispered to the loveliest nothings. It was you whose hand she held, and whose tears she wiped when you were at your worst, and whose nightmares she chased away in late hours when you dreamed that she was gone. It was you whom she was fucking right here, right now, instead of preparing for the lies she was to about to feed them.
You wanted them to know it all.
But they couldn't.
No one could ever find out what she was really about.
"You coming later?" you asked, already missing her, and she hadn't even gone anywhere.
"Why, of course I am." Firecracker smirked, looking down at your crotch and then back up at you. "You owe me one." Her brow rose expectantly.
"I can take care of that right now." The words fumbled out too eagerly. Wishful thinking on your part for you knew you couldn't. Your eyes drifted down, a pout forming your lips as the disappointment tightened your chest.
Firecracker placed two fingers under your chin, tilting your head up to look at her, the scent of your arousal on her skin, “We ain't got time, babydoll. I gotta get ready. Can't go out looking like—" she pauses.
"You just fucked my brains out?" It came out a tad more bitter than intended.
Firecracker's smile faltered, but she quickly recovered. Ever the showgirl "You're welcome to watch."
And hang around far-right nutjobs as they screamed at nonsense she fed them, most of which she didn't even understand, let alone believe?
"You know I don't like that shit," you said dismissively.
She always extended the invitation, and you always denied it, the pattern tightening each time into something tense, familiar, and impossible to break.
"That shit pays the bills, hon," Firecracker said matter-of-factly. She didn't even try to defend it.
She turned to the mirror, fixing her smeared lipstick.
There was nothing to defend.
It was simply the reality.
She needed to eat. The far-right crowd was willing to pay for someone to tell them they were special, that they belonged, that they weren't as crazy as the rest of the world considered them to be. It didn't need to be true. They just needed someone charismatic to say it in the right tone of voice, with the right cadence, with just enough conviction that it didn't come across as condescending.
Firecracker was naturally… the perfect person for the job.
So what, if she fingerfucked an inch of your life mere minutes before giving a speech about the sin of homosexuality?
It didn't need to be true.
She didn't need to believe it.
She just needed to sell it.
"Well, you go pay your bills, and I'll wait to pay you back," you said.
"Sounds like a plan."
She snapped her compact shut with total finality, then turned slowly and pressed her mouth to yours, soft and sweet. Slightly sticky with your juices. A farewell gift. A promise that she would be there later, like she always was.
Firecracker was many things, but she never broke a promise.
"I don't suppose you can stay?" you whispered against her mouth, hating that she had to leave. Hating that you were okay with this arrangement, even as fucked up as it was. Loathing yourself for letting her talk you into it.
"You know I can't, sweet pea," Firecracker said gently, her voice breaking longingly.
You reached for her hand and squeezed it. Just a little longer. That was all you needed. For her to stay.
For her to choose you over the grift.
But she never did.
Because, as she'd said so many times, the grift paid the bills. The grift had afforded your dinners and drinks and presents you didn't ask for but had been accepted because they were from her. The desperate part of your clinging to whatever morsel you could have of her. Even as it manifested in material form.
"Misty…”
"No one calls me that anymore," she snapped, her voice sharp with frustration.
You edged closer, your voice quiet as you said, “I do.” You were among the few who knew who she really was, beyond the role she played and the face she offered the world.
Firecracker's expression softened. "I'll be there tonight. I promise. You can leave out the back. I told my people to steer clear," she said with practiced ease, because no one could see her with you.
Because Misty Tucker Gray, a conspiracy theorist, a self-proclaimed two-faced fucking bigot of pretty much any kind, couldn't be caught dead fucking a woman.
You nodded slowly, ever obedient. Always a secret.
Firecracker's hand gave you one final squeeze before it slid out of yours. With a final, lovelorn glance, she stepped through the door and she was gone.
And you were alone in the void she left.
Just as you always were in the end.
You were hers, in heart, body and soul, but always…alone.
A secret abandoned in a cold, blindingly bright bathroom.
Because bills needed to be paid.
The tongue that licked what remained of you from Firecracker's fingers, inside the mouth that still tasted of you, had to condemn that very act.
That beautiful hypocrite.
She knew what she was, but she didn't care, and, to be perfectly honest, you weren't as bothered as you should have been, either.
sage who keeps you under the conference table. after being elevated as CEO, especially by homelander himself, no one questions her. constant, daily interactions with her yes-men irk her infinitely—so she brings something interesting into the meetings. you.
she’d smuggled you in before she was even in the seven, touting you as an assistant to slip you under homelander’s loath gaze. now, you’re established. unquestioned, almost to her degree of superiority. you want the most secret of records, hidden in dusty basements? they’re yours. claim you need a few or many workers, allocating them based on her orders? everyone moves as if puppeteered. stroll into a very important conference meeting and sink, tucking yourself under the wooden table and prying her thighs apart? no one bats a fucking eye.
your tongue is somehow your greatest skill, even compared to the Navy-esque way you run Vought. it curls sweetly up the crease of her thigh, drawing a contented breath from her. it’s not as if she has to listen to their discussions—they’re just running in agreeable circles, knowing her word is law. she’s free to fist her hand in your hair, tug you and tuck your sweet mouth against her.
she’s not the type to be caught off guard. you don’t shock her, per se—not anymore. you just break her mind like a needle to the brain. who needs a lobotomy when she can have your mouth suckling her clit? the feeling always curls pleasantly at the base of her spine, making these meetings a bit more bearable. the executives know exactly what’s expected of them—and who are they to question her?
firecracker keeps you under during her live broadcasts. she just can’t help it. she’s always interrupted by her rigid schedule when all she wants is your mouth. she pouts and begs until you acquiesce, and she preens like a peacock, thinking herself strong.
that is, until your tongue curls up, broadly stroking between pinkened, already-twitching folds.
her hips twitch, her fingers clenching—her smile strains, a gentle noise escaping before she continues. barely noticeable, surely. yet, you’re a little devil, smirking against her, and she knows she’s fucked up this time.
when your teeth nip, she whimpers briefly in the middle of a word—but continues on. another nip comes as the sound echoes.
oh. you’ve done this before. she’s supposed to be quiet, because you know that’s what she’s worst at.
she tries and tries to continue as normal, even as your wily tongue works wonders over her. halfway through her script, only a few little errors having occurs, she actually decides to have hope. bad idea.
the nudge of your fingers—the delve of them, two thick, makes her exhale into her microphone. attempting to continue proves futile as your fingers curl cruelly, and suddenly she’s twitching and shaking on live tv.
very unsure writing smut. very very inexperienced with this but i had to pull through for my gf my wife my fav (sage) and for anon who is surely feeling the effects of the drought as i am
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can you please do more Firecracker nsfw stuff? Like firecracker x female reader where Firecracker is cuddling with reader and then stuff gets heated? Thanks if you do it!
content: fingering, thigh riding, movie night, cuddling, female reader
Saturday nights were always movie nights between you and Firecracker. You needed to unwind from graduate school and she needed to unwind from working as a supe.
Watching a movie together in a dark room, with snacks and wine, no conversation, was the perfect way to relax and start the week off new.
The movie didn't matter; you'd watch any genre. You were more focused on the feeling of Firecracker behind you. She spooned you, one arm laying lazily around your waist, her breasts pushed up into your back.
She was warm and soft, her breath tickling your neck. And she smelled lightly of your body wash. Your legs were tangeled together, bare skin on bare skin, your clothes a bit tight on her curves.
Full on wine and on the feeling of her next to you, you began to doze off on the bed.
A kiss under your jaw woke you up. "Are you awake?" Firecracker asked, her hand on your waist sliding up higher, pulling up your shirt. You looked over your shoulder at her, noticing her pupils were blown wide.
"I'm awake now."
"They started fucking during the movie and now I'm horny," she said. True to her word, you could pick up the background sounds of the main characters having sex in the movie.
You couldn't help but tease her a bit. "You are easily riled up. Like gunpowder."
"Can't help it when you look this hot," she mumbled, pressing another kiss to your neck. Her hand was drawing circles on your stomach now, your muscles jumping at her touch.
You touched the back of it, pushing it down. She got the message and slipped under the band of your underwear. She ran her fingers over your folds, spreading them apart, teasing your clit with your thumb.
You could feel her heart pounding, hear the quiet moans that escaped her lips. You loved hearing how turned on she got simply from touching you.
When you were wet enough, she slipped two fingers in and your back arched into her, a silent moan on your lips. She wasted no time working you up, pressing kisses anywhere she could reach with her lips. Your neck, your head, your shoulder, the side of your face.
She rutted her hips into the back of your thigh, using it to get herself off. Her breathing grew heavier, voice higher pitched. The two of you writhed and thrust into each other, your hips chasing after her fingers.
As you crested you craned your head back and kissed her hard. She moaned into the kiss, drenching the back of your leg as she came.
She withdrew her hand from inside of you, using it to cup the side of your face as she kept kissing you, lips pillowy soft and tongue teasing yours. You had to pull away from her to catch your breath.
"You got my face all messy," you said, wincing at the sticky sensation of your release now coating it.
"I guess you'll have to let me clean it off," she smiled, rolling you to face her. She licked some of it off of your cheek, as her hand dove back in under the band of your underwear.
I saw you were looking for The Boys requests. Please I beg of you ANYTHING between Firecracker and reader. She’s so beautiful and I need to be with her so bad! Literally anything you want to write. It’s just that NO ONE has written for her!!
♱ — country girl — ♱
A/N: Thank you for ur request, I also agree, nobody is writing about Firecracker, our country girl needs some love <3.
WARNING: cursing, tw: abortion, firecracker as a person, tw: tek knight, this might be crackfic sorry.
PAIRING: firecracker x reader
WORD COUNTER: 974
It was so boring at the Tek's Knight party, you were mindlessly taking glasses of alcohol served on a platter to guests that attended, mostly the room filled with important, rich, people of America.
Like you want to be here with these superficial assholes and fucking racists, you had better thing than to be here in this party but you were forced to attend. Most of the members of the seven were here, including you. Here you are, in a party filled with old people who controlled the country, you looked up at the seemingly staring Tek Knight portrait that was on display, "Creepy" You muttered, before you gulped down the content in the glass, swiftly placing it on the waltzing waiter passing by.
It was going to be a while till you were able to leave the party. It was an event where people were the best dressed and for you, the best dress was your costume, shut up and stay still while people talked to you, talking about nonsense and political matters you didn't care about.
You just nodded with a smile.
Tap your fingers on your glasses, looking for anything that can occupy your time. It wasn't the worst, free high-quality alcohol was being served, and interesting-looking food was being served around the party. You looked around the room of guests, and your eyes quickly landed on Homelander, Sage, and Neuman. You quirked your eyebrows at the scene, before taking a sip of the champagne in your glass.
"Hm," You exhaled, swirling the liquid in your glass. The sound of heels clicking on the floor took your attention. You looked up from your cup to see Firecracker walking by you, you didn't get to know a lot about her only to know that she was involved in pageants, hate Starfire maybe a pedophile. You kept your eye on her with amusement as she walked toward the group of supes.
You were way too curious about how the interaction was going to play out, especially with her introduction, it was almost comical.
Everyone in the group just stared at her awkwardly, it was all truly funny and made you laugh a bit. Then Sage dismissed her straight, I guessed it was something snarky towards her. You watched her as walked away quickly, it looked like she was upset about what Sage said. "Trailer trash, huh?" You gulped down your maybe 10th glass of the night and placed it on the walking waiter's tray before you strode to the dessert table.
You recognize the greeting butler of the house taking the cake. “Hey, are you going to take that?" You asked the butler holding the chocolate cake in his hand. "Yes, Miss H/N" He stated, “Would you like a slice?” He questioned, “No, actually I’ll take the whole cake” You shot him a smile, grabbing the cake from him. “Thanks for being such an American patriot” you exclaimed before you walked out to follow Firecracker.
You stepped out of the room where the party guests were. You followed Firecracker, you wanted to keep your steps as silent as possible maybe to surprise her a bit, maybe this was a bit creepy, a little at least. You hid behind one of the white columns, hearing the door behind her close with a 'click' sound.
You stepped out into the hallway, with the cake in hand. You paused for a moment when you reached the door. Before putting your ear near the door to hear sniffing coming from her you backed away. You hesitated to knock, so you just waited on the side of the door until she opened up.
Propping yourself up on the wall, it was a couple of minutes until she opened the door. It was evident she was crying with her tear-stained cheek and the reddening of her irises. Bounced off the wall, "God were you crying, you look like shit" You said bluntly, her brows furrowed when she heard the comment escaping you.
"Shit, my bad, cake?" You prominently offered the cake to her, she looked at it and then at you, "Is this a joke?" She said with her strong accent shining through as she spoke.
Narrowed her eyes at you.
"No, actually this was from the good of my heart, I saw the exchange between you and you know sage?' You said you heard her groan as you talked.
"So, are you going to tell me to drink Everclear or SunnyD" She exclaimed.
"Of course not, I was going to tell you to drink some Dr. Pepper and Jack Daniel" You grin at her smugly,
She furrowed her brows more, you got her pissed, "Jokes" You put up your free hand defensively, "But seriously, I saw you upset and what better way to calm down than with cake, especially chocolate cake" You grinned pointing at the chocolate cake in your hands.
"What in god green earth would make you think I would eat cake with you" She crossed her arms, "Geez if you put it that way...I just wanted to support a friend in need, since you are part of the seven, you know..so cake?" You offered her again before she looked at you and the cake.
"Fine"
..
"You know Sage is like a slithering snake, I just should known" Firecracker grumbled, taking a spoonful of cake and shoving it in her mouth, you hummed in agreement.
"The whole thing with the show and live cast with the starlight bullshit, should of fucking know" Firecracker finished,
"How did you...I mean she even gets information about Starlight abortion?" You asked, stabbing your fork in a piece of cake, Firecracker just shrugged it off, "I mean you took those punches like a champ" You said bluntly, Firecracker glared at you.
