#and I've always wanted to write a bit faster without overthinking it too much

[themeraldee]

Awkward sex prompt: homelander figuring out how to control his strength with a human reader, who still wants rough sex, but would prefer to be alive at the end of it.

[Masterlist]

18+ Only | 1.2k | Homelander x gn!Reader | Realistic sex. Communicating during sex. Choking. Penetration (but not specified). Fluff at the end.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“But I want you to.” 

It really should have been no surprise to Homelander when you requested he goes a little rougher on you in bed. At first he was taken aback, stopping the pace he was fucking into you with, jerking his head back as if offended, choking on his breath in surprise. You know who he is, bringing up the use of his strength is no small ask. But you’ve shown the signs before. He could hear the spike in your heart rate anytime he’d showcase the incomprehensible strength he possesses. Whether it was him moving heavy objects, accidentally bending steel frames in his penthouse or breaking furniture—like that one time he ripped the headboard off during a particularly fine blowjob—you loved it. Though he never thought that your dirty little thoughts went straight to him using that strength on you. 

“What if I can’t hold back?” He looks down where you’re right below him, all flushed and spread out for him. He’s been giving you a damn good time but it’s like you can never get enough of him. Always wanting more, more, more.

“You can. You’ve been doing it your entire life. Adding a tiny bit more pressure isn’t gonna change anything.”

The one thing Homelander loves about you the most is the pure trust you have in him. After all you’ve seen of him you still believe that there’s no world in which he would purposefully hurt you. So to hear you all but beg for him to use strength that has more than decimated many gets his heart soaring. The feeling of acceptance and unconditional love blooms warm in his chest spreading all the way out to the fingertips currently wrapped around your neck.

“Come on, what’s the point of being the strongest man in the world if you can’t rough me up a bit? I’ll tell you if it’s too painful okay?”

Your hand sat on top, your fingers tracing over his as you squeezed your hand.

“A little more.�� You guide him verbally and manually. Your hand is still squeezing around his own until you reach a point where you’re satisfied with his confidence to do this himself and you pull your hand away. “Yeah, that’s it.” You squeak out a little breathlessly as he restricts your airflow.

“That’s good?” He asks, choking on his words halfway at the way you squeeze around him while he’s still lodged firmly inside you. He jerks with his movement, giving you a very short snappy thrust but after your little intermission where you taught him how to choke even this little sensation made you moan.

Homelander’s eyes widen when he realizes the sheer potential of your request. Not only could he hear your heartbeat, your shaky breaths and moans, he could now also feel them. Right against his fingertips. The moan vibrated against his hot skin, your heartbeat constantly thrumming all around him. He felt it in the way you were tight and clenching around him and now he felt it under his grip.

He released his hand a little, settling the palm of it in between your collarbones.

“See? Wasn’t that good? I love feeling your strength, let me have a little more of it.” You say it with such conviction, inviting him in, accepting him exactly—no, especially—because of the way he is.

The last thing Homelander wants is to not be able to fulfill your needs. As much as the thought of hurting you—actually hurting you—kills him, if it’s something you find excitement in he’ll be damned if he doesn’t deliver.

He pulls you down the length of the bed a little bit to give himself more space and with a grin he pins your wrists above your head, holding them down against the mattress with little effort. He knows he’s doing something right when that startles you, you let out a cute yelp that quickly turns into a moan. God, he could eat you up with the way you’re looking at him. But he’s gonna need to leave that for round two. Now he’s here to fulfill a wish.

He slowly picks up the pace. He’s thrusting slow and deep while his other hand freely explores your body underneath him, giving it generous squeezes as he goes. He’s testing the give of you. Learning where he can apply the pressure you so desperately crave. 

He’s fucking into your faster now, grunting at the sheer heat of you surrounding his cock with every slide. His hand glides up your body, settling back on your neck. He gives you a look as if he was warning you of what’s to happen. Yet he still manages to catch you off guard. With the snap of his hips and the iron-clad grip of his hand your eyes widen in what Homelander only translates to fear.

Immediately, he lets go.

“Why did you stop?!” You look at him, your own hand gliding across where his hand was squeezing a second ago, as if to chase the phantom feeling, recreating it yourself.

“Why did I stop? You got scared and I don’t want to fucking kill you!” He sounds angry but it’s mainly to hide the genuine worry that comes with this irresponsible play. It’s already hard for him to hold back anytime you’re having normal sex. Wanting him to rough you up conjures very different imagery in either one of your minds.

“Baby, the scary part is the best bit. I know you’ll stop before it’s too much. You can feel the give of my body. Let yourself feel that, okay?” You say softly, soothing his fears. In your entire relationship he’s not managed to hurt you, you don’t imagine it was about to start now.

“Now come on, I wanna cum with your hand around my neck.” You give him a cheeky smile that breaks him out of any doubts he had about manhandling you the way you’ve requested.

He’s given you exactly what you’ve asked for. Just enough squeeze and pressure that you feel so overwhelmed with the greatness of his presence pinning you down and nearly squeezing the life out of you that you succumb to your release. Homelander follows you there, unable to hold off after seeing the way you look at him with such adoration right after he let your airways open fully and you regained your senses. 

After you’re both beyond blissed out you snuggle up to one another, locking the jigsaw pieces of your bodies together.

Homelander traces a finger across the bruised finger marks wrapping around your neck. Part of him relishes in the way he’s managed to brand you where you won’t be able to hide it easily. Even with a scarf or a turtleneck, any slight move of the garment will expose the impressive size of your lovingly placed bruises. 

The other part of him isn’t that happy about it.

“I hurt you.”

“Duh! I wanted you to!” You scoff as if it was the most obvious thing.

His fingers trace over them some more before he leans in, placing a soft kiss against the marred skin.  

“You’re fucking crazy.” He lets out a little disbelieving laugh as he pulls you closer into his arms.

“Yeah, you’ve been rubbing off on me.”

“Nope, this is all you.” 

“Maybe. Hey, can we try spanking next?”

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander story): @infinetlyforgotten  @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss

[diariesofadepressedartist]

Day 1 yes this is a vent blog

everyday just seems a little more difficult. just that little bit more of stress. just that little bit more of... everything feeling like its crashing down on me. but I yearn to scream it to everyone around me so I know I'm not alone despite how very alone I feel. alone in my friend groups. always the one going out of my way to make sure my friends are ok always being happy so they can be happy.

It's not fair.

but life isn't fair is it?

I desperately want to talk to my friends but my voice falls on deaf ears as their chatter grows louder and my voice dies away.

I crave one on one connection with my best friend but the friendship doesn't feel the same anymore. it hasn't since I grew up faster. I didn't want to.

I wanted to stay bright and bubbly a conversationalist with fantastical ideas that helped me and my friend to escape the hardship of our everyday life but....

it gets harder and harder to keep up a thought and I can never remember anything we talk about though I desperately try.

they tell me they are used to me forgetting that its not important.

but forgetting is just me losing time I spent with someone who is found family. it feels like a slap to my face every time I'm reminded of when I forget.

I've grown tired of being reminded of how useless I am when it comes to remembering anything.

so tired that thats even used against me. my own mental and physical exhaustion thrown at me. we're used to you always falling asleep. we're used to you not remembering.

I'm not perfect even though I try so hard to be and I try so hard to be better I try desperately to write everything down to try and commit everything to memory but the more I try to force myself to remember the more I fear I forget.

I am a bad friend but I'm trying so hard to be better because I so desperately want to be a good friend that people can rely on. I force myself to stay up later to pull all nighters. If I sleep I'll just hear again how thats what I do. I force myself to write everything every word every interaction every moment.

It makes me feel so pushed out of the friendship when I get tired. "uh oh someone's tired. go to bed. if you don't now you'll just fall asleep around us. just go to bed already." even when I'm not tired even if I just yawn because my body is forcing me to take more oxygen in immediately told I should go to bed and bombarded with it even when I really am not tired on rare occasions.

I can't sleep. I won't sleep.

but that hasn't fixed the feeling I feel inside. I still feel alone when I can now stay awake longer than my friends.

just for them all go to sleep without the same level of being told to go as I have previously been told to do. why am I treated different?

I have two separate groups of friends that I enjoy talking to outside of my closest friends.

in one I am the shadow friend, always happy. always reserved. always the wallflower because I'm scared. I'm scared to be vulnerable. I'm scared to say I'm tired or to say I'm sorry that I forgot.

I'm scared to do more than laugh a small amount. the one I really look up to because they are unapologetically themselves I can barely talk to without my nerves forever twisting into anxiety of how we only know each other because of mutual friends. I want to be friends.

I want to talk to them more and past simple pleasantries but all I can muster most days is "how are you"

I worry that if I don't control how much I talk if I do start to talk that it'll be met with annoyance.

I can barely interact with their social media without feeling like an annoyance.

and I know I know its probably just my anxiety and me assuming bad things will happen and that my depression and overthinking are getting the best of me. I know it is. I'm too self aware of my issues that I don't even know if I can attempt to break this self sabotaging habit.

my second friend group I mentioned. well I don't talk much there because though a very safe space I feel I wore out my welcome and I've started to isolate from them and they haven't even questioned why I'm not around or reached out to check on me.

actually now that I think about it.

out of everyone I know.

only one person reaches out to me and its been my best friend who throws my tiredness and memory problems at me. She's reached out to me and I reach out to her when i can because my fear and feelings are still screaming at me from the deep recesses of my mind.

family... people say you can go to your family for anything.

not in this case. and thats all I'll say.

things are too broken to even attempt to make sense of it.

when these voices get to loud...

I paint.

the flow of the pigment on canvas. the scent of my mix in mediums. the images I can create when words fail me.

they all scream for help. every image regardless of how happy the image seems. behind every stroke of my brush, dot of my pen, line of graphite. every motion and explicable detail is a cry for help. a cry for acceptance and reassurance. a cry from a broken heart.

but the image itself gains a different reaction if anyone sees it.

"you're so talented"

no. I'm depressed.

"can you draw me you're amazing"

no.

"will you ever open commissions?"

no. I feel vile asking for money for my art.

my work is not worth money

my work is my therapy

my therapy that no one understands or sees because all they want to see is the subject, the pigments, the flow the unity.

no one wants to see the process for the process is maddening and anger inducing.

if art makes you angry why create

it silences everything in my head and has me focus on the singular moment

not the bills that are due. not the failed relationships of family, partners and friends. not an actual job that I go to every day.

just me and my painting

[sunooasis]

ミ. let's fall in love? + yang jungwon

☽. pairing: jungwon x gn!reader

☽. genre: fluff, first love!au

☽. word count: 1.3k

☽. warnings: mentions of broken family(?) , a single curse

☽. song rec: the only exception - paramore

⿻. note: !reuploaded as i did changes! i apologize in advance if it turned out pretty bad (did major skips). this is also my first time writing with 1k+ words so.. : ]

the bliss flooding through every veins of yours drove your senses disturbed. it was preposterous, you think. the unwelcomed feeling suddenly engrossing you as if it never appeared to you as a hindrance which you thought otherwise makes you queasy. you've grown up in despise of risking your heart with no affirmation, with you presuming that it's uncertain.

as almost as instantly, the fear rushed in attempt to consume you once more with the memories of your broken family...years of endless fights while your silent whimpers echoed in your room, their promises slowly falling apart right in front of your home, a damaged bond trying to be fixed, and an empty heart as you grew up promising of avoiding loving someone, because you believed on how only pain will benefit you from it.

so now you're confused why, why does it got to be you stucked in this stupid game of fate? even all the advices you have tried to gather naively in the internet since you got no one to help you, didn't helped one bit and you're scared to all of this. you're scared of falling in love only to be shattered mercilessly and helplessly by it once again.

you hated the tingling sensation you're feeling right now as he embraces you tight, suffocating yet it consoles you. you hated how he noticed that you're having a hard time and so he gave you a comforting hug despite him barely knowing you. you hated that it feels warm and tender like your old favorite hibiscus tea. so why does all of it feels so right?

"i love your hug y/n, so expect me to ask you a lot of this starting tomorrow, hm?" the boy said, breaking the silence created five minutes ago as both of you are currently the only ones left inside the classroom. his voice rung to your back and it sent more confusing tingles to your body. it's been months since the bewilderment of you by this feeling started yet it's the first time making the butterflies errupt this wild. fortunately luck's with you this time as your tinted face safely hid in his shoulder.

"a-are you being serious right now jungwon?"

he pulls away from your hug. and now you feel uncomfortably cold that you wanted to immediately retreat yourself in his arms but stopped from doing so. you tried to convince yourself that you're used to winters and if not, you can always be warm without him, but why does it feels wrong?

"actually dead serious y/n" he furrowed his eyebrows jokingly with his head going up and down but still focused on you. it made you hesitantly give a thumbs up as you nod in agreement and stifle a laugh. you can't say no to him, not when your heart tells you thousands of yes.

a week swiftly flew by yet you're still unable to gather your own thoughts and feelings. all of it seems to be happening so fast and you can't still even comprehend how in just one day, your heart decided to skip a beat to your seatmate.

despite all the ways you tried to get rid of his solicitude towards yours off your mind, you just inevitably think about him all over again at the end of the day.

part of you can't deny that one whole week, where you spent all the free times you have thinking about something that you fear, and that is what if you maybe just confess what you truly feel towards him? that maybe it's better that way than be isolated by your hidden fondness for the past few suffocating months to the certain boy.

but surprisingly after days more, finally the thought pushed your what ifs flooding your mind that you got tired of overthinking it. you got tired of being ludicrous for trying to suppress it yourself.

you wouldn't want to wait anymore for it to fade since it's only getting steadfast.

4:50 pm, at the school garden. the unoccupied bench was strangely settled by you with jungwon beside yours.

the area felt far away to any chaos; it feels healing with all the blossoming wildflowers surrounding you. it made the possible outcome of your disclosure to him less unnerving. the two of you were kissed by the sun that's sinking little by little, and the breeze caressed in solace after a long day.

"i have something to tell you.." you muttered. "what is it?" asked him, turning his face to look at your side. you hated the way he's looking at you right now with his eyes glinting in curiosity like what you'll be saying could possibly be special to him. suddenly a bird landed near and chirped, watching your spot steadily as if it already witnessed hundreds of confessions made at this place.

"this will be long since i will talk about all of my gathered feelings, so i ask for your time. second, i'm sorry in advance for my fucked up emotion," a faltering chuckle escaped your lips first before you proceed and he nodded in understandment. the warmth suddenly felt too suffocating for your likings, and your throat suddenly felt irritated, yet you snubbed it and eventually let on your words.

"three months ago, my heart suddenly started beating unusually when you smiled at me....i don't know why and how. at first i didn't mind but the unusual beats only got faster day by day as i got to know you more, then the tingle in my stomach followed that i can't just ignore it anymore. i can assure you that i tried my best to stop it and i'm beyond disappointed with myself, i promised not to love anyone. i hated that idea so so much jungwon, but my heart keeps telling me to risk it for you...every night it keeps telling me that there's nothing to be afraid of loving someone, of loving you. and now i'm unimaginably pouring all my thoughts to someone i've perhaps fallen with, hoping that after this i can move on at last,"

the whole time you spoke, your gaze only could focus on the green grass tickling beneath your feet. you felt dizzy after your confession, but thankfully the air- or relief finally entered your lungs.

silence surrounded the place. you don't know what's his current state right now and you have no plans on looking at him. is he surprised? is he mad at you? is he-

"i'm thankful y/n,"

but that's when you finally face him. he's smiling at you as the dip on the side of his cheek peaked. then the tears you're holding for the past months started to run down your face and you felt suddenly weak, now entirely confused on what's happening when your own vision started to appear so hazy to even discern the moment.

he then placed both of his hand on yours. "thank you for trusting me, thank you for being brave...and thank you for loving me." he wiped your tears away before coming back to your hands, intertwining it with his and it magically fitted in perfection. "as much as i know how much you are scared right now, can i prove you first on how beautiful love is?" , "and if you're still wondering....i also felt all the tingles creeping inside me beside my heart involuntarily pounding when i'm with you."

the uneasiness you felt before was long gone and now replaced by contentment as you could only smile at the clouded memory. few years ago, you believed that love is nonexistent, a thorn behind a delicate rose, but he came and played the role as your only exception. he made you realize that the idea of love shines through the lack of vividness when it's someone made for you.

with his arms wrapped your waist and yours layed on top of his shoulders, he sways you both slowly, following the beat of the soft melody from the speaker that is filling your dimly lit apartment. your head cuddled against his chest as you find the slow beats of his heart in comfort while the faint smile of his lips pressed against your hair.

"thank you for showing me how truly beautiful love is, my jungwon."