Reader riding Homelander as a punishment until he's sobbing and begging for her to stop, but she'll only stop if he apologises for embarrassing her in front of the other members of the seven
Payback
— masterlist
— pairing: sub!homelander x female dom!reader
— word count: 0.8k
— warnings: p o r n !!! , homelander humiliating reader (not in a sexy way lol), overstimulation, homelander begging you to stop, homelander crying during sex
— author’s note: i’ve never written sub!character x dom!reader!! loooooved writing this!! (sorry i've been so slow recently! sending love xx)
— DIVIDER BY @cafekitsune !!
You clenched your jaw as you stood next to him. He was drunk for the first time ever, so it wasn’t really fair to blame him, but you fucking did.
The pricks in Vought Lab had been working on a liquor strong enough to affect supes (and would probably kill a normal human), and they wanted to test it on Homelander first. They figured if he could feel it, they might need to tweak it a bit and make it less strong so as not to harm the lesser supes.
“She’s wicked in the sack,” Homelander continued his rambling to The Deep, Sage, Firecracker, and Ashley. You were embarrassed, fuming. And these fuckers were gobbling it all up. “I mean that pussy? Shiiit! Fuckin’ tightest I’ve ever had. And she’s a fuckin’ screamer! And a squirter!”
“Alright that’s fuckin’ enough!” you exclaimed. You pulled your boyfriend out of the room.
“Bet she’s gonna get this cock wetttt!” he exclaimed as he left.
“Fuck yeah, bro!” The Deep cheered after him. “Damn. She’s gonna be pissed in the morning. So much for acting all high and mighty,” he laughed to the people around him.
“Please tell me someone got that on tape!” Ashley laughed along with him. “God, no one will ever take her seriously again!”
Meanwhile, you were dragging Homelander to your shared apartment.
“We gonna fuuuuck now?” he slurred.
“You’re drunk as fuck, honey. I’m not gonna fuckin’ take advantage of you the first chance I get?” you scoffed.
He was about to protest, but his mouth filled with bile, and he ran to the bathroom to throw up.
He came back a few minutes later with a horrified look on his face.
“What?” you asked, brows knitted with concern as you walked up to him. You put a hand on his bicep and rubbed it up and down lovingly.
“I-Shit! I’m so, so fucking sorry!” he whispered.
You clenched your jaw, “You sober now?” He nodded.
You pulled him to the bed and pushed him down. You pulled his cock out of his suit and began stroking it roughly.
“Shit! I’m close already!” he moaned, closing his eyes. You took your hand away, and he whined.
You pulled off your suit and got on top of him. You lined him up with your entrance and lowered yourself quickly. He groaned, his face contorted with pleasure.
You began to bounce on his thick cock, your boobs bouncing with you. Homelander groaned at the sight as his hands went to play with them.
He came pretty quickly, and he started playing with your clit til you came, too. He expected you to roll off of him, but you kept going.
He gulped nervously.
“Uh, honey? What’re you doing?” he chuckled humorlessly.
“You think you can embarrass me like that? In front of all those people?” You smirked darkly, riding him harder and faster as the seconds passed. “Don’t forget who fuckin’ owns you in the bedroom, baby boy!”
He winced, “Ah! Fuck! I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
“Who owns you, Homelander?”
“Y-You do!” he gasped. “You own me completely! I-I’m all yours, just a t-toy for you to use. However you fuckin’ like.”
“That’s right.” You slowed your thrusts, grinding down on him slow and hard. You smiled as his face continued to contort with pleasure, pain, and embarrassment.
“P-Please! I-I’m so fuckin’ sensitive!” he begged. “I-It hurts!”
You paused your thrusts completely, and he let out a breath of relief. You leaned down and put your mouth to his ear.
“Good, you fuckin’ brat!” you whispered. You began thrusting again, with the force of a mad woman.
He slapped your thighs, he gripped your hips, he begged, and he pleaded, but you didn’t fucking stop.
His eyes filled with tears; it was too much for him to handle. Supe or not, his dick was weeping as you clenched around it tightly.
“Aw, baby boy gonna cry?” you mocked. He nodded. “Go ahead and cry, let me see how much this is ruining you.”
He began sobbing, “Please, please fuckin’- fuck!”
You slowed your thrusts and pulled off of him. He let out a real breath of relief as you perched yourself on the bed beside him.
You touched his cheek and turned him to face you. There were tears smeared across his face, he was breathing heavily, and you couldn’t help but smile. Here he was, the most powerful mother fucker on the planet, reduced to a whimpering mess under your touch.
“Have you learned your lesson?” you asked. He nodded vigorously.
“Yes, yes!” he exclaimed. “And, I really am sorry I embarrassed you. I didn’t mean what I said.”
“I know,” you said. You rested your head on his bare chest. “It’s okay. If anyone says anything, you can just threaten to laser them in two.” You yawned. “I’m tired as fuck, goodnight, Homelander. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” He kissed the top of your head as you hurried your face into the crook of his neck, leaving a loving, soft kiss on his skin.
Summary: You cuddle and then feed Homelander milk with your fingers after a stressful day and he whimpers all over like a good boy.
Contents: sub!Homelander, established relationship, dom!reader, fluff, tiny angst, hurt/comfort, hand feeding, gender neutral reader, any pronouns, praise kink, big scary man whimpers an unhealthy amount, soft dom, human x supe, suggested nsfw, clingy Homelander, mommy kink, sucking milk off of fingers as a passionate experience 🤨 , not beta read we die like translucent
a/n: english is not my first language
I've been having difficulty with sleeping due to anxiety so here is the annual, lets calm down fic :')
He was marching through the corridors of the Vought tower, leaving a disquiet air behind him among the staff and 7 members. The spiky couple of frustration and anger was merrily pushing their thorns deeper and deeper into his chest, the longer he went on. The only destination he was still able to see through the constant attacks of that annoying couple was his penthouse, several floors above, where you were waiting for him.
You, with your calming presence and trusting eyes. He closed his ocean eyes as the lift started to ascent towards his floor, imagining your smoothing voice in his ears and your warm, loving touches. “Why is that shit so slow?!” – his racing thoughts questioned as he took off his gloves, holding them in one palm while putting his fists behind his broad back. “Do I really have to be the one, who tells Ashely about that fucking lift?? Am I the only one who does anything in this tower?” – the muscles of his picture perfect face started to twitch involuntarily which fueled his anger deeper. “You are pathetic. – sturred a heavy hiss from somewhere inside of his mind – Do you really think you’ll ever be good enough? I’m sure you know deep down what that little human thinks about you when you leave. Hmmm. Yes, after you cried your eyes out like a little bitch!” –The elevator dinged with a sigh of relief, while he stood staring at his reflection, petrified. He looked into his own face, feeling the forming of unwanted tears at the back of his eyes. What if I am right? And you are like the others, lying to him? And… no. He cracked his neck, moving his head around to relieve tension, huffing at his own incompetence, letting the thorns sting him again.
His fists jammed into tighter iron fists as he moved towards the living room, searching for you. The tension of his hands mirrored the tightness he felt in his gut, suffocating him. He felt like he was carrying a weight in his chest, a weight too heavy even for him, pulling him more and more intensely into a bottomless pit. “I’m scared.. please.”
He didn’t know how, but he found himself sitting on the sofa, fiddling with his ungloved hands nervously … and you, looking at him with such concern in your eyes. In his state of despair he didn't notice you in the kitchen, so when he didn’t turn to greet you, you went to investigate.
“Had a stressful day dear?” – he heard your quiet melody as you sat down next to him on the sofa, gently holding out your hand to caress his right cheek. Oh how small he looked with his puffy teary eyes, glaring at you, as if you’ve hung the moon and the stars up the sky, kindling his dark night up with your light. He barely dared to nod, fearing to interrupt your touch on his cheek. You softly whispered “come here”, patting your thighs and pulling him towards you.
He moved with the caucion of a scared little bird in a cage, preparing to flee but fearing to leave. At last his blond locks brushed the fabric of your clothes and his ocean irises searched for yours. He still didn’t speak but looked at you expectedly, pleading silently with his gaze.
The moment you touched his hair, he closed his tired eyes and sighed in relief. You continued to pet him, running your fingers through his curls, carefully scratching his scalp. With every passing second, the thorns of the couple seeped out of his cramped muscles. He looked so serene like this, abandoning all pride and fears, leaving all of himself up to you. You could’ve asked anything of him at times like this and he would have done it without question.
The Sun was slowly diving behind the skyscrapers of the city, puffing the bubbles of his breathy light over every surface. Deep below the busyness of the streets were running on in all sorts of blue and purple hues, setting the temperature lower while red heat remained in hearts. However up there, above everyone else in the sky, the diving of the sun mixed the colours of the air with the most beautiful shades of yellows and pinks, hinting their tints over thousands of windows. One stray line of warm shine found its place into the penthouse of our scene. Homelander was still laying on the sofa, with his head placed on your lap. He turned slightly, burying his face further into your chest, seeking comfort. He was so beautiful like this, his golden eyelashes in the light, leaving their merry shadows on his cheek, and coloring his hair. He was quietly whimpering and moaning, barely audible for now, under your untiring hands.
“That's my brave boy.” – you whispered softly as you leaned down to place a kiss on his smooth forehead. He opened his azure eyes, which were swimming in their own seas and their heightened hue of colours. The blueness blended with the yellows, pinks and purples of the air as well as the mirrored colours of yours, making them shining with life and emotions. “Homelnader, you are so so beautiful and perfect, my love.” – you told him, pulling him even closer. “Good boy.” – You continued to sing praises over him, covering him with your love. More and more tiny voices of his began to escape from his thin lips, grabbing you desperately.
“Hush my love, it's okay. What do you need?”
“I… C-Can I h-have …m-m-milk?” – he looked up at you shyly, his own embarrassment colouring the tip of ears. The redness of his self-consciousness travelled down from there, warming his puffy cheeks.
“Of course you can, dear. Let's get, hm? Why don’t you go to the bedroom while I warm up a little milk for you?”
“B-but I d-don’t want y-you to g-go.”
“Shhh, I’m not going anywhere I promise. I’ll be there with you in a minute.”
“... okay.”
🥛🥛🥛
The now warm glass of milk you placed on the bedside table, and you slipped into bed. You positioned yourself in a half sitting position and gestured to him to lay in between your legs. He carefully placed his blond head onto your chest and waited with barely contained need. You held the glass in one hand and pushed your fore and middle finger of the other into the creamy white liquid. He chased your fingers hungrily with his eyes, not letting them out of his sight. As you moved them closer to him, his lips started to move in anticipation, curling unintendedly, preparing to taste. Oh he couldn't wait, “Please!” – he whined loudly, too occupied in caring to hold it back. “I need it, please mommy.” – he whimpered inward, shimming closer to your breasts. Your fingers were richly covered with this sweet, snowy nectar of his, moderately showering his suit with its tiny snowflakes.
Your slick fingers met his craving lips and he couldn't help but moan and greedily take them into his mouth. Like a thirtsing man in the desert who found an oasis, once your fingers were in his hot mouth he didn’t want to let them go. His eyes were shut, completely lost in this bliss. He sucked, then kissed, then swirled his tongue, repeating these motions until your fingers were completely clean. He was a growling mess, hungrily sucking on.
“That's my good boy, doing so good for me.”
Looking down at him, you felt a certain warmth spreading through your body. During his pleasure, pink and red flowers started to blossom in his cheeks, planting their seeds in his veins, leaving their blooms all over his neck and chest. He breathed heavily with shallow breaths, couldn't get enough of the weight of you in his mouth and the taste of safety on his tongue.
“Ahhh.. ah.” – was the only thing he could manage to blurt out from amongst the many dirty noises of his delight. But he wanted to say so much more, express all the love that dwelled in his chest. He felt your delicate arms around him, shielding him from the outside word, keeping him safe, and stroking his undercut with the utmost gentleness. Your praises didn’t stop either, they continued to float over him with all the rhythmic qualities of your voice. “Good boys” were the most heard, because you knew he needed someone to reassure him that he was doing fine. However even with all the praise, and touch, and care, the biggest impact was your heartbeat. It sang so soothing and steadily into his ears, choosing the melody that it wrote only for him. “I love you. I love you so much!” – he cried in his mind while noisy sobs started to escape from his lungs – “I want you to know!” — His own heart invited yours for a dance and under your sweet harmony, the two of them began to waltz. His slowly picked up the pace, showering you with his own composition, swaying the two of you. “It’s soo good, but so much yet I want more! Ah!”
His breath was becoming rapid and his whimpers deeper, louder, begging for more. His right hand found one of your breasts and started to caress it, imitating the motion as if pushing milk out of it.
“It’s alright dear, mommy knows exactly what her good boy wants.” — his mouth was still full of your fingers so he could only whine more breathy.
You replaced your clean fingers with freshly milked ones and drew them along the curve of his lips, slowly savoring the noises this simple motion elicited from him. It felt intoxicating with every cell of his body buzzing with electric excitement. Whines fell from the curled, parted lips as goosebumps sent shockwaves all along his form, from the tip of his curls to the toes of his feet.
“P-ple-ase.”
“Please what, my love?”
“P-p-plea-e l-let me … t-taste.”
“You did such a good job all day my boy, have a taste.”
This is all he needed, the second you said those words, his mouth was all over your warm fingers. His eyes rolled back under his eyelids as his head started to bob up and down in his own rhythm. His clingy sounds filled up the colourful air around you two as he was getting closer and closer to the goal of his need. Drool began to form around his lips, smearing all over his cheeks and down his Adam’s apple. No other masterpiece of a painting was to match the sight of his right now. He was utterly beautiful in his blissfully dazed state of mind, sucking on your fingers, drinking up all of ‘your’ milk. His saliva gleamed in the darkening room, contouring his face. The red flowers were full blown, offering all their beauty up to you and you only.
“Mhm!”
“I know my love, you can let go.” — you murmured sweetly to him, which pushed him over the edge toward his release. The tightness in his suit left a wetness on the fabric, flowing down his thigh. He appeared at peace, tiredly cuddling his head further into your chest while still holding your fingers with his lips. You gently pulled them out which elicited an adorable whine from him. You continued to pet his blond head, hinting sweet kisses all over his face.
You carried on with caresses in silence while his breath slowed and his heartbeat steaded itself.
“…Thank you.” — you heard his faint voice addressing you. He looked up at you with eyes that possessed so much love, they nearly bursted out. — “I-I love you.”
“I love you too.” — you whispered back and placed a kiss on his nose. He pulled you closer to him, hugging you tightly, but not too tightly so as to not hurt you, and keeping you close. You made him feel so happy and loved, he couldn’t articulate how much, so he resorted to drawing you as close to him as possible.
You two stayed like that for some time, exchanging innocent kisses between each other, when after a while he discovered a mischievous light in your eyes.
“What is it?” — he cocked an eyebrow up.
“Well, since there is still some milk left, it would be a pity to waste it, don’t you think?”
“Yes, absolutely!” — he joined in, firing up his excitement again.
“Not like that you silly!” — you giggled, making your heart jump joyfully. It made his own pump warmness along his whole system. — “Here.” — she placed the glass near his lips and slightly turned it. He slowly drank all it up, gazing up at you sleepily when he was done.
“Thank you.”
“You’ve already said that.”
“I know, … but I haven’t said it enough for you. I love you.” — he murmured as he slowly fell asleep in your arms.
You watched over his dreams until the Moon swam up from the depths of the sky, placing her stars up the darkness to dry.
"Relax." John turns to glare at you, but you hold his head firmly, keeping his gaze at the door; your other hand unbuckles his belt; he grips the armrest, shallow breaths leaving him as he did his best to follow the order. "There we go," your voice close to his ear; he feels the anger almost dissipate.
You take his cock out, and he doesn't buck against your hand as fervently as he'd once done, obediently waiting for you to make the first move. "You're learning quick, aren't you?" You move your hand to his mouth, silencing the pleading whimpers as you jerk him off. The armrest bends, and he shudders; he's not the Homelander when he's in your hands. He's your good boy - obedient, pliant - always chasing the high your praise brings him.
"What do you think people would say if they saw you like this?" You laugh lowly; John's head cranes back, "Imagine that." Not many people are up and about in the building this time of night, and it's not the first time you'd done this - last week, he'd spoken out of turn, you'd bent him over your lap, and spanked him till his ass was red. He mewls when he cums, back arching slightly before falling back against you, turning in your hold when you direct him to do so, and eagerly licks away the cum on your hands.
i'm the ceo of sub!men you came to the right place <3
extreme mommy kink. wants nothing more than to call you mommy, be good for mommy, take care of mommy, make mommy feel good, etc.
i mentioned this before and wrote a longer drabble on it, but he loves your tits. he loves sucking on them, massaging them, nuzzling them, you name it
loves eating you out. whether it's you riding his face with his hands pinned down or you laying back and spreading your legs for him, he would drown in you if he could
loves it when you ride him. you're in control, he knows to keep his hands to himself, and he likes letting you use him. but only because he knows you love him and it isn't really him being used
loves to undress you. he thinks it's an honor and privilege to take your clothes off of you, slowly and intimately
praise kink, praise kink, praise kink. he loves being told he's a good boy doing a good job. it makes it all worth it for him
likes being spanked. there's just something about being over your knee, whether it's for being good or being bad, that just gets him going
loves being edged. makes it all worth it when you finally let him cum, he feels like he really earned it
I wanna write something with homelander and a reader who lets him age regress and milk mono in peace at the cost of being her personal icbm, but the murder (and only the murder) is eroticized in the sense of him being like a sporting dog
