#homelander x madelyn

[televisongifs]

MADELYN STILLWELL & HOMELANDER

1x05 good for the soul

[blindmagdalena]

Internal Affairs (Homewell)

i've been wanting to write Homewell for ages, but was having a hard time deciding exactly what i what i wanted to write, but then this idea hit me today. i ended up banging it out in a single morning, and i'm pretty happy with it! i enjoyed getting into Madelyn's head a bit. also, @xieyaohuan is 100% to blame for this. thank you for being the Homewell champion!

Summary: 18+ 2.3k homelander x madelyn. bottomlander. sublander. fingering. After Homelander and Maeve’s very public breakup, Homelander’s ego is wounded. Despite being talked into viewing the breakup as his idea by Madelyn, the rejection has left him stung and irritable. Because of this, Madelyn finds herself dealing with him storming into her office more than twice as often, pent up in every imaginable way.

She decides to take matters into her own hands, and relieve some of that stress. For both their sakes.

The knock to her office door barely counts as a formality anymore. By the time Madelyn gets halfway through her invitation of “Come in,” Homelander is already through the door, shutting it behind him. He’s wearing the same pinched expression he has been for the last week and a half, his lips pursed, brows furrowed. She bites back a sigh, bracing her hands on the edge of her desk.

“Have you seen The Source headline today?” He asks her, bristled and petulant.

“I have not,” Madelyn answers, pensively tapping her fingers on the underside of her desk. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes,” he hisses, stepping towards her desk, though he maintains an undercurrent of respect in the distance he keeps, even in his upset. “Maeve Moving On? It’s been a week, Madelyn! A week, and she’s gallivanting around like she’s Nicole Kidman post divorce. Like she’s celebrating,” he says, spitting the word like it’s something vile. “This is not what we discussed.”

“The tabloids will talk. That’s what they do,” she answers in her best soothing, placating tone. “It’s alright. Maeve has an interview with VNN this week. We’ll address the rumors then, and she can put them to bed.”

Homelander scoffs. “Please. The only thing she’s putting to bed is every Tom, Dick and Jane that catches her eye. She’s out of control, Madelyn. You need to talk to her. It’s not just her image on the line, alright? It’s mine, too. And the Sevens!” He says, pointedly tapping a gloved finger on her desk. Righteous anger is easier to wear than the petty, wounded state of his pride.

“I hear you. You’re right,” she says, standing from her seat. That causes him to straighten up, his hands falling to his sides. “Maeve’s out of control,” she echoes him, watching the way her validation loosens some of the tension from his expression. “I will talk to her. Make sure she’s up on all of her talking points.”

Though his jaw is still tight, Homelander nods curtly. In a perfect world, that would be enough. He would accept what she told him, his upset would be soothed, and he would leave her office in peace. Instead, he remains there as if rooted in place, his hands in tight fists by his sides. It isn’t enough, and if she’s being honest, Madelyn knew it wouldn’t be.

Ultimately, the tabloids have nothing to do with his upset. Homelander has dealt with the ups and downs of publicity his entire life, and this isn’t the first time his relationship with Maeve has been covered in a less than positive light. No, he doesn’t care about any of that. His split with Maeve has left him with a void he doesn’t know how to fill. That would be true no matter how Madelyn spun the situation in his favor.

She supposes it couldn’t have lasted forever. Maeve had been by no means an excellent accomplice in maintaining Homelander, but at the very least she had been effective. If she was going to keep the hero under her thumb, she was going to have to take a more hands on approach, and pick up Maeve’s newly loosened slack.

Madelyn smiles warmly, and lifts a hand to beckon him to her. “Come over here.”

Homelander blinks owlishly, visibly caught off guard. Perhaps he had expected to be dismissed, still broiling with unresolved misery and newfound loneliness. Tentatively, he crosses the invisible threshold Madelyn maintains between them, eying her with equal parts curiosity and wariness. He makes his way around her desk, but stops before moving behind it. His hands fold demurely in front of him.

She beckons him again, urging him closer. “It’s okay. All the way.”

His throat bobs as he swallows his hesitance, nodding. He steps closer, and Madelyn rolls her chair all the way back to the wall, opening up the space behind her desk. Once he’s close enough, she puts her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry that she hurt you,” she says quietly, watching his expression slowly smooth out until he looks young and vulnerable. It takes very little from her to get him to this point.

She’s made sure of that.

“Breakups are hard, and they’re lonely,” she says. She strings together specific words, ones she knows will disarm him, with all the care of a jeweler crafting the perfect series of gems in a necklace. “You’re so strong. Anyone else would have crumbled by now.”

“Not me,” he says, an attempt to coax more of those pretty, sparkling words from her.

“No,” she agrees, smoothing her hand up and down his arm in short strokes, “Not you. Not my very best hero.”

His lips twitch in an almost smile, but it falters. His gaze drops to her hand on his arm, following the back and forth flow of it. There is familiar, barely contained longing in his expression. Through their time together, she has been careful to microdose him with these affections, feeding him just enough to ensure that he neither starves, nor grows bored. Either would be deeply dangerous.

However, every so often, she acknowledges that there must be something more dangling from the stick than a morsel. There must be the lurking possibility of a feast, or he will lose interest regardless.

Madelyn takes hold of his wrist, and gives a gentle pull. He looks back up at her with all the tentative curiosity of a wild animal. She maintains her nurturing smile, and asks him, “Do you trust me?”

He only nods, which tells her that, mentally and emotionally, he’s exactly where she needs him.

“Good,” she says, dragging the word out, letting it wash over him. “Come here. Put your hands on the desk,” she instructs, barely above a whisper. He casts her one lingering, uncertain glance before his curiosity and obedience win out. He bends slightly to flatten his palms to her desk, eyes trained on the grain of the wood.

Madelyn steps forward, her skirt brushing against his cape, and reaches around him. She deftly undoes the mechanism of his belt, and hooks her thumbs into the waistband of his pants. He sucks in a sharp, exhilarated breath as she pushes them down to his mid thighs. Without all the ridiculous padding of the suit, he feels much less unwieldy beneath her palms. She slides them up his outer thighs like she might touch the flank of a horse so as not to spook it, keeping her touch confident and smooth.

Homelander has always had a distinctly sterile scent to him, and impeccable hygiene. She has no doubt that the frequent showers are to do with his heightened senses. He likes to keep clean and scentless. He’s the same way when it comes to his gloves, always preferring to keep them on over getting his hands dirty navigating the world. Unless he’s seeking connection, of course.

Next, she adjusts his cape out of the way, settling the bulk of the heavy fabric on her desk. He adjusts his hand to pin it there, eager to assist the process in any way he can. With a hand between his shoulder blades, she gradually applies pressure until he gets the message, and sinks down, down, down, stopping only when his chest hits the desk.

“There we go. Just like that,” she coos, continuing to stroke his bare skin, letting her nails scrape every so often. With her other hand, she pops open the side drawer of her desk, and retrieves the bottle of massage oil she keeps. Most days it’s reserved for her dry skin and aching neck. Today, it serves a greater purpose.

Pouring a generous amount into her palm, she rubs it between her hands to warm it. Homelander cranes his neck to try and get a look at her over his shoulder, but between all the padding and his eagle pauldrons, there isn’t much maneuverability. She doesn’t let him wait for long. Once the oil is warm and slick on both of her hands, she puts her hands to his lower back, just beneath the top of his suit, and begins working the oil into his skin.

Homelander inhales sharply, giving a little noise of confusion that quickly melts into a pleased, needy sigh. Madelyn works her fingers into the tight, woven steel muscles of his lower back, dragging her hands gradually lower. His breath hitches when she takes two generous handfuls of the meat of his rump, rolling her palms into it.

Before long, he’s panting softly, rustling the papers on her desk with every huff. His legs have settled into a wanton spread, and she’s ignored the swell of his cock long enough that, when she steps back to apply more oil, she can see that he’s drooled a puddle of precome onto the floor below.

“Would you like some more?” She asks, to which he nods fervently.

“More,” he pleads, swallowing back the saliva in his mouth, breathing shallowly.

“Of course,” she soothes, stepping back in close. “Anything for my sweet boy.” She punctuates her words by cupping his balls in her warm, wet palm. His whole body jerks, but he settles readily back into her hand, rutting only once against the pressure before he reigns himself in. “That’s it. Always so good for me,” she says, massaging him in slow, rhythmic rolls of her hand. With her other hand, she takes her middle finger and begins working his rim.

Homelander keens while she slides knuckle deep into him, his hips giving barely restrained little jerks, torn between pushing down into her hand and back onto her finger. Everything about her touch is too much and too little, a balance she has worked diligently to perfect. She’s certain she could make him cry if she teased him long enough, but there isn’t time enough in the day for that. He has an appearance this afternoon, and she’s determined that he will be on his best behavior.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” She prompts, drawing her middle finger all the way out, only to join her index finger with it, sinking both back in in a slow, purposeful push. “You deserve to feel good.”

He’s nodding, babbling reedy nonsense through his breaths. 

Madelyn smiles down at him. “Because you are good. My good, good boy,” she says, his balls tightening up in her palm as his muscles contract. She fucks him languidly with her fingers, scissoring them on every slow pull. “Aren’t you? Tell me you’re my good boy.”

“I’m your good boy,” he rasps out immediately, fists clenched so hard on her desk they shake, the leather of his gloves barely surviving his grip. If he were gripping her desk, he would have cracked it by now.

“That’s right. And you always will be,” she murmurs, sliding her hand from his balls to the underside of his cock. With only her middle finger, she touches a firm line from the base of his cock, following the thick, throbbing vein there, all the way up to the leaking head of it, and then all the way back down.

That’s all it takes to set him off. Homelander moans loud and low, his whole body going rigid as his cock jumps with each pulse of his release, ribbons of come audibly painting the floor beneath Madelyn’s desk. She slips her fingers out of him and settles both hands on his ass, massaging and hushing him through his explosive orgasm.

“There you go,” she whispers, maintaining those calming strokes as he comes gradually down from his high. He’s slumped completely down on her desk, but he’s managed not to destroy anything. That wasn’t always the case. These little “sessions” used to invariably involve some degree of destruction, be it strength or laser related, but over time she has trained him well. Aside from the spill, one would never even know unless they saw it happen. “That’s it. You’re wonderful.”

When his breathing evens out, and the aftershocks settle, Madelyn cleans her hands on a hand towel, and then helps him pull his pants back up. He turns around, and she tucks his soft cock back into the confines of his pants with all the care and attention of a lover, albeit a brisk one. She fastens his belt back into place, and smooths his suit out.

Homelander is smiling loosely down at her, cheeks flushed a vibrant pink. He’s got the look of a lovesick puppy, and he leans into her hand just like one when she reaches up to fix his hair. “Thanks,” he whispers, his tone warm and conspiratorial.

“It’s my pleasure,” she tells him sweetly, brushing back a couple loose locks of his hair. “Do you feel better?”

“Mhm,” he hums, leaning towards her. She can see in the half close of his eyes and the slight tension in his lips that he means to kiss her, but she deftly redirects him, and kisses his cheek. Certain rewards must be reserved.

“Good. Nothing makes me happier,” she tells him, giving his gloved hand a squeeze before she steps back. “Now, I have a meeting, but Ashley has your talking points for this afternoon. Will you pick them up from her on your way out?”

There’s a brief flash of disappointment in his gaze, but ultimately, the giddiness of his post orgasm haze wins out, and he nods. “Sure. You’re going to be there, right?” He asks, voice sounding small, despite the way he towers over her.

“Of course I will,” she says, smiling. “I’ll always be there for you.”

His own smile broadens, predator teeth hidden behind the wide spread of his lips. “Okay.”

He lingers only a moment longer before he clears his throat, and sheepishly excuses himself. Madelyn watches him go, waiting until the door closes behind him to sit. She inhales a slow, silent breath, sinking into her seat on the exhale. She stares down at the steaky, wet mess of come staining the carpet beneath her desk. After a beat, she reaches over for her intercom. “Ashley, make sure Homelander gets those documents for his appearance today. Also, send in the custodian. I spilled my coffee,” she lies smoothly, lifting her finger off the button.

Sometimes, keeping your business clean requires making manageable messes.

[underthetulsansun]

so………those homelander and madelyn scenes 👀

[diaryofanobsessivefangirl]

THE BOYS

— 1.05 | "Good for the Soul"

[ladyantiheroine]

Has anyone done this yet.

[nztsume]

• waiting for the big twenty-five •

homelander x you

{“Only one more year till the big 25. Aren’t you excited?”

This piqued at his curiosity. “What’s the big 25?”

“It’s when your brain finishes developing.”, you replied, remembering the information from back in the day, when you were still trying to get your Psychology’s degree. “Your frontal cortex- the one in charge of your personality and all- it stops growing at around 25 years old.}

Even if you’re just kind of a glorified baby-sitter, you just want to see him happy - instead, you accidentally make him worse.

read on ao3

------

Hi yall!!! The voices won and I finally ended up starting to write the young homelander fic of my dreams where we find out how he ended up being the deranged insecure insane man we know and love!!

In this one, you're Madelyn Stilwell's niece who works at Vought- and have striken an unexpected soft spot for the company’s latest investment- this insecure, shy but sweet young hero called Homelander.

Enjoy!

• 1 •

July, 2005

Every single day, at exactly 5.30 a.m., Homelander was to be awoken by the smell of coffee on his kitchen table. The coffee had to be fresh, beans grinded that same morning, no sugar, no milk, no exceptions. To accompany it, he was to have his pills: two of creatin– for muscle growth, three of protein- to feed them, a weight gainer– so he would stop being so lanky, and an extra dose of vitamin D, to fight those pesky pimples guys his age still got sometimes. All of them should be in a small container, so he could swallow them at once with his first gulp.

Next to his coffee and his pills, he was to have a folder with any relevant document for the day- interviewer’s questions and the answers he was to give, profiles of important people he would meet, scripts for any ad he was to film. All of that, including his schedule for the day- except that was to be read to him by you. This is how Maddie had told you it had to be done, and how you’d done it since day one.

You looked at your wrist watch, holding his coffee on your hand- piping hot, just how you knew he liked it-  and you yawned, watching the thinnest clock hand go round it, as the last minute before you could walk into his apartment went by. 

Finally, it was 5.25, and you could already walk in- so you did. 

You weren’t exactly his maid- he had several of those, but none of them were to do anything to his apartment whenever he was around. He wasn’t to have much contact with the normal civilians, the normies- as Maddie called them. You preferred to reserve your opinions at that- your aunt had changed a lot since she had started working here. 

What you were was Maddie’s secretary- and Maddie was Mr. Edgar’s secretary- or something. There was a fancier title for that, but you couldn’t recall it. All you knew was that she was aiming for vice-CEO or something, as it was the only thing she talked about whenever she dragged you to a bar after office hours, and insisted on drinking glass after glass of whisky.

As you finished setting things up, you appreciated the result- his cup of coffee, his pills, his documents and ah, a special surprise. One big, obscene chocolate cupcake, the kind where the chocolate topping is so rich that it spills and drips all over, with one beautiful strawberry on top, and next to it, one single candle. You weren’t sure if chocolate was his favorite, but you knew he had a bit of a sweet tooth- so he’d appreciate it, at least some. 

Finally, you took out your red lighter and lit the candle- and less than twenty seconds later, you looked up- and there he was. 

"Good morning, John.”, you put the lighter back on your blazer’s pocket, smiling at him. 

He blinked- eyes still not fully alert, as he scratched them. They were boring holes into the chocolate cupcake, and you couldn’t help to smirk a little- you knew he’d be interested in it. 

“Is that for me?”, he asked, surprised, almost like a child- and you laughed. Ever since you’d met him, about five or six months ago now, you’d felt like he was younger than his actual age- there was something about the way he stood in the middle of his own massive penthouse, like a kid lost in a big, elegant furniture showroom. Alone, quiet and shy, even when wearing his own super suit. It didn’t help that it was actually way too big for one person, with its tall, tall roofs, marble everything and sleek furniture- much less for an overworked twenty-something with no time for a social life.  

“Of course.”, you assured him. “It’s your birthday after all, right? Happy 24th!”

He pressed his lips awkwardly, trying to contain a smile- but that didn’t work, as he let out a laugh, and finally came to the kitchen island, almost a skip on his step. You couldn’t help to be glad- finally this kid was getting some happiness in him.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.”, you said, sarcastically, as he went to town on the cupcake, taking big bites out of it. He stopped for a second mid-bite, mouth full of chocolate, to look at you with a smile- and there was a gleeful glint in his eyes. Actually, that was enough of a thank for you. Anything that made that perpetual sadness that he always seemed to hold go away, even for just a few minutes, was worth it. You laughed at him. “Okay- just go for it. But don’t forget your pills!” 

“I can’t believe it- this tastes so good!”, he finally said, after taking another bite- in less than thirty seconds he had eaten half of it. Unbelievable! “Best birthday gift ever!”

“Oh- shush.”, you crossed your arms, leaning back against the counter, watching him take a big gulp of coffee. “Just wait until you see what Maddie has gotten you- it’ll blow your mind.”

“I don’t think it’ll be better than having chocolate as breakfast.”- he set the last bite of the cupcake aside, finally taking the pill container, and eyeing them with disgust. You sighed- perhaps if they let the kid eat his breakfast he wouldn’t need those nasty pills- it wasn’t like he wasn’t going to burn it off in the training center literally thirty minutes later. You didn’t know much about supe genetics, but they couldn’t be too different from normal people’s, right?

You yawned again, this time covering your mouth to the side, as you let him have the rest of the cupcake and his coffee. You liked to give him some minutes of silence so he could enjoy it properly- you knew that that’s how you liked it when you had yours.

This morning in particular, you just wished you had gotten to drink your coffee alone- but your fiance was just arriving from a shift at the E.R., and you had to deal with his graphic description of a dick that had been cut in half by a broken wine glass. You were still trying to forget about it. At least you lived close enough to Vought- just a ten minute subway trip away - so you didn’t have to wake up much earlier than that. It was just lucky you knew how to do your make-up on the move, another time-saving skill you’d learnt in your college years. 

You heard him drinking the last of his coffee- doing that big slurp noise he always did, and you finally decided to take the document with his schedule- ready to tell him about his day. 

He was tired -he always was, but today he seemed particularly so, even behind the hint of a smile the cupcake had left him with. You could tell by his posture under those cheesy button up burgundy silk pajamas, shoulders too slumped, hips rested against the counter. You weren’t surprised- according to Maddie, ever since they’d debuted him close to two years ago to the public, he’d been worked non-stop. It was only time until he broke, you thought- but you could never say it to her. Your aunt had always been too good at pushing people further than they could reach, and too good at seeing only ahead of her; John was just another one of her subjects. 

“Alright”, you finally said, seeing the subtle move of his shoulders straightening at your voice, “Ready to hear about your day, birthday boy?”

He groaned in response, the hint of his smile completely being wiped away, “I guess…”

You pressed a smile for him, but mentally frowned reading over his schedule- he was packed, of course. “What’s that? Not excited about being 24?”, they’d even put an interview right after his birthday celebration- his 1 hour long birthday celebration. They as in Maddie and Mr. Edgar. “Only one more year till the big 25. Aren’t you excited?”

This piqued at his curiosity. “What’s the big 25?”

“It’s when your brain finishes developing.”, you replied, remembering the information from back in the day, when you were still trying to get your Psychology’s degree. “Your frontal cortex- the one in charge of your personality and all- it stops growing at around 25 years old. So you get only one more year of acting like a dumbass without people holding it against you.”, you added that last one joke to make him laugh- it worked. He wasn’t used to people throwing curse words around him. “Congrats!” 

“Just one more year, huh?”, he said, more seriously than you expected. “That’s kind of sad.”

“No way- it’s great.” you shook your head, “After 25… it’s like your brain rewires. You’re not embarrassed anymore, you get some self-esteem back from when you were a kid.”, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, remembering how stupidly shy you were back when you were his age. It wasn’t that long ago, really, just four years- but it felt like another lifetime, somehow. “10 out of 10, if you ask me. Anyway–”, you gave one more sigh, before turning your attention back to him, “Let me tell you about your day. So- it officially starts at 9.10 where you- oh. I didn’t know this. You’re getting a new suit!”

His eyebrows rose, “I thought that wasn’t until September.” 

“Hmm, maybe they wanted to launch it at today’s park inauguration for your birthday- which is at around 11.30, by the way. So you get your suit fitted and all, then it’s an one hour drive, and then the inauguration. After that, lunch, and after…”, she frowned. “You have to have tea with- with Margaret Pataki and her friends ...?” , no way they were making the kid spend his birthday with a bunch of rich old ladies that wanted to get in his pants. You couldn’t believe Maddie. What in the world could have they offered your aunt to get the privilege of The Homelander’ s time on his birthday? Unbelievable.  You huffed. “Well… too bad you have your weekly marketing meeting. You’ll have to miss it.”

“I thought that wasn’t until Thursday.”, he frowned, but there was a hint of relief behind his confusion. 

“It’s not-”, you shot a look at him, “But you should get to rest for a couple hours on your birthday, don’t ya?”, you winked at him- and then moved on, before he could protest any further. Better not to think about it too much, or you’d get extremely mad at your aunt. “And then… your birthday celebration!”

“You’re coming, right?”

You looked up from the paper, surprised at his sudden intensity as he cut you off. You found those crystal blue eyes boring at you- like you were another cupcake, expectating of your reply.

“ ‘Course.”, you simply smiled- surprisingly secretly pleased. You liked him- he was a nice guy, behind all the pizzazz that Vought put him through in front of the cameras. Perhaps too nice, in your opinion- there was some trauma somewhere in there, you could tell. But you didn’t weren’t close enough to him to recommend therapy or something, although you had suggested it to Maddie… who obviously shrieked at the thought of their golden child going to the shrink. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Johnny.” 

“Thank god-”, he sighed, rolling his eyes in sass, “If I have to deal with Stan or Madelyn or any of the other old farts there by myself, I’ll laser my own foot.” 

This made you laugh. It always surprised you whenever he showed a bit of bite, as it seemed like whenever he was with Maddie or Edgar, he seemed like the best behaved pupil in the boarding school- and whenever he was in front of the public, he was an absolute boy-scout. “Oh- come on. I’m sure Noir’s gonna be there too. I’m not your only friend here, you know?” She hoped so, at least. John seemed to like Black Noir, although his presence in the Vought building was far and apart, since they hadn’t officially re-debuted him under the company’s name yet.

He shot you one last skeptical look before taking the folder with the rest of the documents- this was your dismissal, and you took it. It was ten to six, and he had to be in the training center soon. 

“Anyway- I’ll take my leave. Maddie’s probably sent me my tasks for the day already.”, you heard a low distracted hum coming from him, already walking to the door. Before you left, you peeked at him one last time, before saying: “Happy birthday.”

He looked up just as you waved, and there was a hint of a smile in his face- good. You smiled back, and finally, slammed the door closed.

 

-

 

When you worked at Vought- more specifically, in their superhero division, every single day felt like standing in the middle of the sea during a storm- wave after wave of issues and tasks coming at you, suffocating you at times. Truth be told, you weren’t supposed to be working there- you were far too unqualified, both emotionally and academically. 

When your aunt Maddie had found out about your mother’s disease, she, of course, had refused to help her. She had always been resentful at how resentful your mom had been of her, at how she had chosen a professional life path while your mom chose to have you at just seventeen, dropping out of school to form a family. Just your average sisters’ feud, splashed with just a bit of new wave feminism and abandonment issues. However, knowing you had dropped out of college, Maddie was kind enough to offer you a job in her workplace- none other than Vought Enterprises. Big shot shit. 

She had told you that she wouldn’t make any promises, she wouldn’t work with you, and she wouldn’t slide you in with the big supes, where she worked. She had hustled her ass off to be where she was- she wouldn’t let your wormy little self run on the path she had so laboriously paved. You were okay with that- any corporation job would pay more than what you were doing in the dingy bar downtown where you’d been working since you dropped off college. Besides, you knew your aunt had never been all there- the love-hate she always showed you wasn’t personal, it was just a thing she did.

It didn’t help that you weren’t even more than seven years younger than her, so a lot of your childhood memories involved playing with her teen self. She was more a cousin than an aunt, to be fair. So there were a lot of things you could easily let slide- her insane mood swings was one of them. You knew she meant well- behind all of her power plays and degradation.

Either way, that didn’t end up happening- you working for a less important division, like pharmacy. As soon as she suggested Mr. Edgar to give you a job he was into the idea- he liked to keep things between family. And in hindsight, it was understandable. The things that happened behind the scenes for supes weren’t half as glamorous or exciting as they seemed to be on camera.

This morning had been particularly busy, the waves of work slowly turning into a tsunami, as Homelander’s birthday was a top priority for the entire department. He was the star, after all- had been for almost three years now. He was Vought’s face and voice, their personality. The bright eyed, all-american, charming, strongest to ever exist superhero. America turned into the shape of a man. Everything they’d ever dreamed, they were training into this twenty-something-year-old. Any excuse to celebrate him was good enough for them- because it was as if they were celebrating Vought itself.

That’s why you’d been running all over New York the entire morning. The tailor had managed to mismeasure John’s shoulders, somehow, and they needed two more of the handmade eagle feather golden shapes that went… well, you didn’t know where they went. You had only gotten the gist of it, along with a brown envelope to take to the goldsmith- any goldsmith that would get them done before 11.30 a.m., when Homelander was supposed to debut his new suit to the world, to mark a new era or something.

Luckily, it was 11 sharp as you ran through Vought’s main hall’s doors, and 11.04 as you knocked the costume division’s door on the 45th floor. You were breathless, knowing that he had to be on the other side of the city, to Fort Lee in less than half an hour- although seeing how tight they were, he was probably going to fly to the inauguration. The city council had granted him his very own children’s park after he’d saved a school bus from sinking into the Hudson a month ago, and they had chosen to inaugurate it the very day of his birthday. As if he had nothing else to do on that day.

Maddie opened the door, blonde waves all over the place, breath ragged. You knew the signs, she had been yelling at someone- and you were lucky it wasn’t you. You saw a flash of dark blue somewhere in the background and you knew it was John- and your curiosity was piqued. Would the new suit be too different? At least it seemed they’d keep his colors. 

“Where are they?”, your aunt demanded.

Wordlessly, you took out a fancy necklace case out of the bag you were holding, “I had to find a different place- our goldsmith was taking too long to decide whether he could do them or in time or not.”, you explained, as she snatched it off your hands and opened to inspect them. While she did that, you subtly went on your tippy-toes, trying to catch the new suit without her knowing. “I think they look just like the mold-so…” 

“Perfect.”, she concluded, slamming it closed, and she took one look at you, with those severe eyes of hers. “Go to the 72th. They need help with the party.” 

After that, she slammed the door on your face. Oh well- you’d see it later, hopefully. 

 

—

 

The 72th was a mess- as it always was, since it was the floor where most Vought only parties were held, the ones no outsiders should know about. Before, you would have thought that that meant something sexual- perhaps some sort of massive over the top superhero and congressmen orgy, the kind conspiracy theorists would talk about- but soon you found out it was not the case. Rather- it was the kind of party where millionaires would get drunk and discuss whether bombing another South Asian country would make them profits or not. You didn’t know which of the two types of parties were worse.

This time, though, at least the purpose of the preparations was much more innocent- just a small party for every person in Homelander’s life to celebrate him and his birthday. It was kind of impressive so many people showed up, in your opinion. It was the 4th of July, after all- most everyone would choose to celebrate it with their families at the park- or even just watch the fireworks from their TV at home. Instead, about twenty or more people were there, running around with you- decorating, inflating balloons, making every cookie in the dish look beautiful and photogenic. All for him- everyone wanted him to be pleased. You were sure that as long as he was allowed to eat enough of them, he’d be just as happy. 

One thing you ended up noticing about the attendees was the variety, or more like, the lack of thereof. Most people there were some of Vought’s scientists, the ones you only knew of by their pictures on the Vought’s Best wall. You wondered what they had to do with Homelander, or if they were there just for protocol. Maybe these were the kind of people Edgar wanted him to surround himself with. Important people- people who did good for humanity. 

And no, no Black Noir to be found.

Interestingly enough, even they were helping with the organization. Perhaps they were close, you wouldn’t know. You didn’t know much about John’s past aside from what you’d figured out by yourself- and what the public knew. 

Either way, he was about to arrive, and you were to get Maddie’s gift ready for him. The box was a bit too big for it- but it needed the space, you guessed. You just wondered if the box was necessary at all. 

Somebody heard the elevator sound starting to ding up- and began shushing everyone, as they started crowding around the room, hiding the big table with the cake and different foods that they had set up in the middle of the room behind them. You, of course, didn’t want to steal any spotlight from someone who could actually be important to him, so you placed yourself to the side, excited for him to arrive. You knew he was going to love this; he loved attention- even affection, as much as he tried to hide it.

The elevator finally dinged on their floor, and the doors opened, and-...

“Happy birthday!”, everyone shouted- only for Maddie to come out, her heels clicking as she saw on her that particular face she made when she scolded someone- her words drowned by their scream. Everyone made a confused noise- wasn’t it supposed to be…?

Then- a massive spot of blue walked in- a young man with wide shoulders, an unhesitant stroll and perfectly coiffed blonde hair- clad in an imposing red and blue suit. Homelander.

You began singing Happy Birthday- loudly, completely drowning everyone’s confusion and whatever Maddie was nagging the young supe about- and everyone was super quick to join. And you had the pleasure to see John’s face go from a slight frown to a bright expression- as everyone sang for him- claps and even stomps to go with it. 

But… there was something off in his smile as he started recognizing the faces around him. You saw his eyes go through every person in the room with a strange restraint- like he was holding back something. Then- they fell on you, and they stayed there, somehow, it seemed that it made that off feeling fade off. You clapped and sang more excitedly.

“Happy birthday, dear… John-Homelan-Johnny !”, everyone laughed, as nobody quite knew how to address him, “Happy birthday to you!” 

You saw him laugh- eyes looking around in surprise at the decorations. Everything was red, white and blue- with lots of golden details, that had been your touch. They were the expensive kind, but anyone could tell they weren’t set by professionals. You thought it added a homey touch that he’d enjoy- and he did, as he quite didn’t know what to do with himself, with his hands, as everyone clapped and whistled for him. 

“Oh-!”, he finally said, “Thank you- thank you, guys!”, he was trying to play it cool, calming them awkwardly. 

After that, the short event officially started. The attendees started mingling amongst each other, coming up in groups at times to talk to John, who seemed more interested on whatever was going on on the food table. You had caught him eyeing it from time to time whenever he was left alone for a second or two, as if he was deciding whether he could have a treat or not .

Meanwhile, you were busy guarding Maddie’s gift- which was secretly the only reason you were here at all. Not by your own volition, of course- you’d obviously come to John’s party if it was up to you. But… somehow, you felt that without your aunt’s express invitation it would have created problems for you. Sometimes it felt like Maddie got insanely possessive of the kid- as if anyone could come and snatch him away from under her management and steal her progress doing that. You didn’t quite know- all you really knew is that whenever you made a small observation, offered a small detail you’d noticed about him, she responded incredibly bad.

It wasn’t too bad, though. At least you were saving yourself from awkward conversations with strangers- plus, sometimes John caught your eyes and smiled at you. He had even tried to make his way to you a couple times, always interrupted by a new group of people who called for his attention.

He looked good in his new suit, you had to admit. A far cry from the leotardish one-piece he had before- that only worked to accentuate his still teensy physique, still too skinny and lanky for what he was supposed to be Edgar’s final vision of him- this new suit was magnificent. It looked like it was a two piece, for once- which he was probably thankful for- held by a strong golden (gold?) belt, and a high collar, covering just enough of his neck to draw attention to the slight v line it formed. He had some padding, she knew that- but it was just enough, not to transform his actual size, but to accentuate it. He looked more mature, more secure in his skin, and it showed - even if just a little bit.

Either way, you could hear her gift getting more and more agitated by the minute- so it was a relief when you heard her voice loud, commanding everyone’s attention.

“Let’s open your gifts, John.” Maddie said, coming up from behind and slapping a hand on his shoulder, making him jump a little. 

The party moved to the gifts table, where a small pile laid. You dutifully took the box you’d been guarding on the corner of the room and started walking it by it with a bit of difficulty, mostly because it kept moving all over the surface- but also because it was making your nose itch.

By the time you had gotten there, John had already started opening some of his gifts. Someone got him an insanely expensive wine you knew he wasn’t even going to try, and someone else a piece of pottery. It was hard to make someone like him a gift- what could you even get someone who could have anything? Not that John ever asked for anything, though. But he could- and everyone was aware of that. Vought made sure they were.

As soon as Maddie saw you with the box, she took it from your hands and walked up to him- and the second he turned to it, his face illuminated. 

“A dog?!”, he took it from her almost immediately, sitting on the floor with it on his lap- hands fighting to open the wrapping as soon as he was settled. 

“Oh John!”, Maddie scoffed, annoyed, “You spoiled it for everyone else!”

He didn’t seem to hear her though- entranced on the unwrapping, and you couldn’t help to hold your hands together on your chest, excited with anticipation. You were sure he was going to love it.

And as soon as the little guy jumped from inside the box- you know he did.

“Oh, lord!”, he exclaimed, as the small dog started barking and twisting in his grasp- as excited to see him as he was, its tiny tail wagging so hard it was moving its entire little body with it. “Oh, my god!”

The dog, a small Jack Russel with a big, brown spot over one of his eyes, barked excitedly, and you were sure you could see John’s eyes shining with tears, sat on the floor while everyone else aww’d at them. You could tell that- for once- he had forgotten about the people around him, as he let the puppy jump on his legs, on his chest, licking his face, sat back on his hands, as if he was stopping himself from squeezing the little thing. He was happy, so happy , and the dog was too.

“I can’t believe it!”, he gasped, again, as he finally decided he needed to pet it, getting rid of the thick gloves that his new suit had, grabbing it with both hands. The puppy barked at him, tongue out, and a laugh escaped from his mouth. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve seen in my life !”

The puppy wriggled its way out of his grasp, and jumped at his face again, licking him- and everyone aww’d once again and clapped. You finally unglued your eyes from the adorable scene to your aunt- and she looked incredibly pleased with herself. You would be too, this was probably the first time you’ve seen him actively elated.

Suddenly, she was startled by something- and you saw her hand going to her blazer’s pocket, picking her cellphone in a second. As she walked away with it, you took a step closer to him- and he turned to you.

“Did you know about this!?”, he asked, incredulous, fighting against the dog’s excited licks, “I can’t believe it!”

You couldn’t help the smile on your lips as you saw him. “Obviously. I went to pick him with her!” you crossed your arms over your chest- still remembering the horrors of the testing lab you’d gone get the poor dog from. It had been a month ago, and the dog had stayed with Maddie until now, “He was not the youngest puppy in the uh- adoption center but…”

“Shush, he’s perfect.”, he interrupted you, holding it to his chest, and turning to you, “What’s his name?”

“I’m not sure actually-”, you turned towards where your aunt had left- and you saw her smiling into the phone, a small skip on her step- and you knew that body language. She was sucking up to someone on the other end of the line. “We could ask Maddie if she named him when she comes back.”

But as you said that, Maddie actually came back- almost running in the short steps her heels allowed.

“Let's get this over with”, she whispered to you, as she walked by you taking over the center of the small round that Had formed around him, “Hey, everyone! Let's cut the cake!”

Everyone agreed happily- but you frowned, running to follow her as she went to the food table, already starting to make space for it. You knew that this was supposed to come at the end of the party, but not even half an hour had gone by yet- what was she doing?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw John's eyes shoot from you to her to Edgar, as he as well tried to figure out what was going on.

“Maddie-”

“Seems like his birthday interview got delayed a couple hours”, she whispered to you excitedly, almost like a secret, “Guess who'll get to make up for his fatal mistake of not seeing Mrs. Pataki and her friends!”

A sense of disgust immediately took over your stomach, as you realized why she was so happy. She was making John spend time with those women after all- she was going to get him to butter them up for Vought On his own fucking birthday. 

“Go help with the cake.”

You felt sick.

Behind you, you heard John approach and Madelyn’s arm immediately shoot to get a hold of his forearm and guide him to the center of the table, the dog still in his arms.

Suddenly, a lot of things started happening simultaneously. Edgar was on the scene now, - a cameraman that you’d seen wandering about the event next to him - finally caring about this party at all, as he seemed to be giving him directions about how to encapsulate the happy event. 

Maddie, on the other hand, stood next to Homelander- whose eyes seemed far, as he heard whatever she was telling him, his lips pressing in some sort of emotion you didn’t have time to figure out, eyes looking far away from the scene unfolding. You got closer, as you started fixing the cake decorations, and got to hear some of it.

“And you'll show off your fucking new suit and tell her ‘ You like it, Margie?’ like she's the woman of your dreams, okay? She needs to go home and tell Pataki that Vought's doing great things while she considers divorcing his ass. You need to make up for the time you made her lose, John.” she was instructing right next to his ear, and he seemed more out of it by the second, “You'll be so fucking sorry to her she won't doubt for a second that you made a honest mistake with your schedule.” 

People started gathering as well- their loud chatter surrounding them like a massive beehive, buzzing so close to the table it was even starting to make you dizzy and desperate, as you fought to make one of the star decorations stay up. One of the scientists came up to you with a lighter, offering to turn the single candle on and you nodded, mindlessly as your focus kept shifting to him, and the way his gaze dissociated more and more- and you were actually worried now. You’d never seen him like this, not this badly. 

“Homelander!”, Edgar called, his serious nasal voice adding a new layer to the buzz, just like the scientist's lighter he couldn't get lit on. “Move one step to the left and turn a little, the lighting's bad there!”

“Seriously - apologize like a fucking dog, you hear?”

“Fuck”, you cursed under your breath- snatching the lighter yourself and trying- getting to turn on.

The camera started snapping- and it added another layer. A group laughed loudly in the background. Edgar kept giving needless instruction. The dog started wriggling, running out of his grasp. Madelyn kept barking into his ear.

“You'll lick her feet- and…”

And you could almost hear it before it happened. 

“Madelyn, I fucking GET it !”

The loud high sound- the sound his lasers made.

The crowd gasped, shocked- but more importantly, the dog started fucking screaming in pain.

“Oh- no!”

Someone screamed- and all hell broke loose. John ran from the table to the side- where his laser had left a dark, charred line that ended with… with the poor puppy laying on the floor, bleeding and crying. You ran after him.

“Oh no- no, no, no, no…”, he was on his knees, and you fell next to him as he whispered the words to himself, holding the poor thing as it wriggled, its loud shrieks vibrating in your ears. His hands were starting to get covered in blood, and its fur was so bloody- flesh so mangled you couldn't make sense of any of it. “No- please !”

You were speechless, shocked, and the blood was draining from your face by the second. “It was an accident!”, you were immediate to comfort him, but his eyes were glued to the animal- unable to think, to do anything, “It was an accident, John, and-and…”

You looked around- but nobody thought like you- nobody else was stepping up to comfort him. Instead, everyone stared in… fright , taking fearful steps away from the scene like he was a monster- and that made you so insanely mad.

“I-I killed him!”, he exclaimed in horror. “Oh, God, I fucking killed him!”

“ No, you didn't! ”, your hands went to his shoulders, shaking him a little as his eyes filled up with tears- and your heart was going a mile a minute, “He's crying ! He's still alive!”

“N-no, no, I-”

“John!”, Maddie’s voice shouted- and you looked up to see her walking to you, angry, as she got out of her shock, “What the hell was that?! Are you insane?! Are you retarded ?!”

He turned slightly to her, eyes full of tears and remorse and pain- and you couldn't take it anymore.

You stood up like a spring and took a step between them.

“Madelyn!”, you looked at her in the eyes, heart still drumming, “ Are you fucking serious?!”

You saw her eyes widen and her mouth fall open.

She started sputtering your name, visibly shaken. You'd never ever had spoken like this to her. She was always the one that was right, the one whose decisions just weren't questioned.

“Y-you stay out of this!”, she finally managed, and tried to push you to the side- but you slapped her hand away.

“No, I won't! Not this fucking time, Aunt Maddie.” you stood your ground, stomping a foot.

There was a rage in you burning- and you instantly realized this wasn't just about this, right now. This was a rage that had been slowly burning- building up these last six months as you'd witnessed how they treated this kid, how they exploited every single second of his time. How tight his leash was. How simply sad and alone he looked all the time.

It had been burning since your mother had been diagnosed with that heart condition- and how ironically heartless her sister had been to her. How she'd offered you the job the same way someone offers leftovers to a starving stray dog, and how you had to swallow your dignity and take them.

It had been burning, you'd even say, after the first day Maddie had started this fucking job, and how she blew you off when you went to her apartment with a cake you'd made her to celebrate it- saying she had coworkers over and she couldn't deal with a child like you here, too, as if they were too important for you to even see them.

She growled your name one last time, “You're about to lose your job.”

“Then fucking do it, Maddie.”, you hissed back, feeling venom in your voice, “Fire me. Fire me! Who wants to work in a company that depends on how much they can exploit some twenty-year-old, anyway? Oh, but the second he makes one mistake you all look at him like he's a monster, right?!”

You couldn't help to turn around, including everyone in your rant now- every single person that was important in John’s life, who was looking at him like he was going to laser them next. Him, who was still holding onto the crying puppy, hands drenched in his blood.

“Don't look at him like that! God- look at him ! He didn't do it on purpose! You all pushed him to do it!”

You felt frustration building in you- as your eyes started to burn as well, angry. No, you couldn't let yourself cry, you needed to speak up!

You saw Maddie about to say something else when someone took a step forward- Mr. Edgar.

“Okay, okay everyone…” he had his hands raised up, voice infuriatingly calming and imposing. “Let’s calm down. You-”, he pointed at a random woman, who jumped at his calling, “Take the dog to the fifteenth, there must be a vet somewhere there.”

The woman quickly stepped forward- a middle aged with a messy bun hanging off of her head- arms in front of her, ready to take the still wailing dog from John while putting the most distance from him she could. Your eyes followed the movement as he extended the creature to her- his hands still shaking. For some reason, as this happened, you felt absolutely insane- like you were some schizoid character In a movie, and everyone else was just watching your crazy rants unfold. 

“And you- miss… Stilwell?”, he continued, turning to you- and as you shook your head (you didn't share your aunt’s last name, thank you ), he held a hand up, like he didn't actually care about that, “Why don't you take Homelander here home? He's still a bit shaken.”

And you're the only one here not afraid of his lasers, seemed to be the tacit rest of his request. 

At that, you stood straighter, facing him as a bitter bile pooled in your throat - desperate to keep jawing off about all you've been keeping, seeing these last months, about every single thing that they'd knowingly been doing to him- but you held back for him. Edgar was right, he needed to get away from this,  he needed some peace- and perhaps not to have to spend his birthday with some old lady who would be pawing at him all night. 

You swallowed it and nodded at him, chest still out and shoulders squared, like you were a shield and shot one last look at Maddie.

She was boring holes into you- mouth in a thin line, dark blue eyes unblinking in anger, hands fisted to her sides. You knew that look, your mother had been the end of it one too many times. But unlike her, you did not relent- and Maddie should better get used to it.

Then, you simply turned, falling to a kneel once again, as you grabbed his shoulder. His eyes were on you as well, those clear blue eyes, still watery, still shaking. His hands were drenched in blood, as was the rest of his new suit- he looked so small in that moment, so scared.

“John?”, you let your voice fall into a soft tone. At your call, his eyes tuned into an emotion you couldn't quite decipher- aside from intense gratefulness, “Let’s go home.”

[deliciouskeys]

Based on this brilliant ships dynamics post

[sehtoast]

Tender Threads CH4 (Homelander x OC)

chapter four: the new you

chapter directory | slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, spidersona as original character, original trans male character, smut, sublander

summary: time to look the part, little spider. out with the old, in with the new.

With every job comes the good and the bad.  Up until now, it had been mostly… fine?  Not awful by any stretch, but Benjamin hasn’t had much to complain about.  Again, until now.

He’s been in this office for hours.  Fucking hours.  One would think Stillwell would’ve at least warned him that the two men prattling off marketing and merchandising concepts never took a breath between their eight trillion sentences, but no.  

Not even a smidge.

Good ol’ Seth and Evan…  

Benjamin finally snaps back to attention when the topic shifts for the umpteenth time, though not by the grace of a whiteboard eraser wiping away sloppy diagrams and stick figures.  This time the two jump halfway across the room to a sheeted mannequin that has been begging to be unveiled the entire time.

“And so, obviously, we were thinking that it was time for a fresh image!  Something flashy, something… you.”  Seth– or was it Evan– says with a child-like giddiness. 

“The pros in the design department worked overtime for this one.  You’ll love it!”  Evan– or… Seth, perhaps, chips in, just as eager as his hive-mind counterpart.

“What’s wrong with my suit now?”  Ben asks, voice scratchy from how long he’s sat in silence.  And why the fuck do you guys alternate sentences like that… eesh. 

But there was no reason not to anticipate this.  In fact, the bug could practically smack himself upside the head for not even entertaining the idea.  He was a product now… and he had to remember that.  They’ll change everything about him to better fit their image.  Well, everything he hadn’t been able to protect under his contract.

“Spider-Man,” rings that mother-knows-best voice the bug has come to know all too well.  “There’s nothing wrong with your current,” she pauses for a moment, pursing her lips as if thinking of a way to call him shabby without being too backhanded.  “Homemade suit.”

Yeah… still backhanded.

“We just think you’re deserving of something a little more… special.  After all, you’re in The Seven now.  You deserve to look the part.  Have all the toys, and so on.  Who doesn’t like an upgrade?”

“And just wait til you see what we’ve got for you!” Says one of the duo. The pair take their spot on either side of the mannequin and grab a handful of the cover.

Please don’t suck.  Please, please don’t suck.

Ben’s mind runs to the worst ideas possible.  What if they changed his colors?  What if they pull some bullshit with the mask and it’ll only conceal his face partially?  That’s in the contract– they fucking know better– what if–

The sheet is ripped away faster than he can process it.

This suit of his… It’s always been Benjamin’s second skin.  His armor against the world.  Silly as it was, his suit was a part of him.  An identity, perhaps.

And now a new one stares back at him almost as if it yearns to be chosen. This new skin, this new him.  

Ben rises slowly from the couch to circle it, inspecting every little detail.  The subtle things.  The not so subtle things…

The spider emblem had been enlarged, nearly as long as the whole torso.  The legs cut off where red once met blue– now black– on the sides.  An interesting color choice, and one probably meant to ensure his scheme wasn’t too similar to Homelander’s.  Gray accent lines run through the blackened sections in intricate patterns, weaving a hexagonal texture.

Ben reaches out to touch it despite his own gloves shielding him from sensation.

The new suit’s webbing textures are raised slightly from the body, and the sections are larger too.  It’s less… cluttered this way.  Undeniably easier on the eyes.  His hand slides up to the shoulders where the signature Vought V logo is stamped in a white, leather-like material.  Sure to never fade and certainly never go unnoticed.

Down the arms, paper thin lines of dark red dance sporadically, damn near indistinguishable from the black of the suit.  An oddity catches the bug’s attention.

The same V shape on the shoulders is at the wrists, right where his webs emerge, almost as if to function as funnels.  Something to spare him the design flaw of the unsightly holes in his current suit.

Rounded, friendlier looking lenses stare into his very soul.

He can hear the sound of those two yammering on about… something, but he doesn’t process a word of it.

This is him now.  It’s like an energy emanates from it, begging for a symbiotic relationship.  Benjamin feeds the image and, in return, the image feeds him security.

Whether or not he’ll feel… whole like this remains to be seen, but… it could’ve been so much worse.

“Well,”  Stillwell says abruptly.  “It won’t put itself on.  Bathroom’s right there.” 

Ben steps back as Seth and Evan strip the suit away from the mannequin, all but force it into his hands, and shuffle him into the bathroom.  Hell, they even shut the door behind him as a courtesy.

The process of stripping is still its old painful self.  Indentations of seams on skin, elastic marks, and especially that flattened mask-hair Ben always dreads.  And what a wreck he is in the mirror.  Dark circles under his bloodshot eyes, uneven scruff on his jaw that he definitely needed to shave at least two days ago, anxiety-bitten lips…

Christ, man.  Look at you…

But it’s not like he could blame himself.  Between the daily antics of settling in at Vought and being the same ol’ hero at night– which had been strongly discouraged, by the way– Benjamin hasn’t had any time to take care of himself, nor sleep more than the odd half hour here or there.

Is that a fucking pimple??  Eughh…. Wash your as soon as you’re home.  Hell, do it now.

He lets the tap warm up a bit before scrubbing frantically at his face, only half tempted to use whatever antibacterial gunk Stillwell kept in her private bathroom.  At least the water wakes him up a little.

The new suit comes with its own challenges, but is somehow easier to put on.  The material quality is leagues better and it allows for stretching much more willingly.  In fact, it’s damn near completely comfortable… breathable, even.  

The back zipper though… That one would be Benjamin’s enemy until the day he either died or hung up the spandex.  

The mask takes him by surprise when he lifts it.  It has an odd weight to it, not necessarily heavy but definitely not what a mask should weigh.  He flips it inside out and the culprit is a solution to all of his woes.  

Gone are the days of a face shell to make him look a little less ridiculous and keep dental work off his list of injury expenses, now replaced by– judging by pressing his thumbs– thin padding liners full of some variety of what he assumed to be oobleck.  Solid when force was applied, soft when left to settle.  They hit all the sweet spots, too.  Jaw, cheekbones, temples…

One last look in the mirror, and he slips it on.

“What the fu–”

Ben stumbles backward a bit as load screens and transparent windows stack upon one another in his field of view.  Welcome messages, tutorial pop ups– the whole nine yards.  His eyes rake frantically through everything, trying to peer past the overload.  He swats his arms as if to smack the windows away, but they go nowhere.

He shuts his eyes tight, sighing with deep frustration.  One more fucking headache…

That seems to have disappeared the second he reopens them.

Huh…

And then he does a double take.  Just as his brows were, his lenses were arched.  The bug leans over the vanity and gets damn near nose to nose with himself, wiggling his eyebrows, widening and squinting his eyes, watching with fascination and disdain at his now emotive lenses.

He groans.

No more making bitchy faces behind the mask, huh?

Gone were the days where he could roll his eyes and hide his flippant reactions behind the mask. That’s probably exactly why Vought would spend god only knows how much money developing tech like this. Marketing likely decided he needed to be personable, not just another blank face like Noir.

When he finally gets the gumption to exit the bathroom, the two are all but biting at his ankles.  “How is it?” They ask in their nearly creepy unison.

“It’s uh…” Ben starts, wondering exactly what the decorum rules were for conveying a complaint.  “About halfway up my ass.”  Not a lie.  “Can we adjust that later or–”

“Absolutely not!” Chirps one of the two.  “Polls show the ladies love a man in tights, and you’re sure to see an uptick in approval if you flaunt what you’ve got!”

Christ…  

Ben decides not to dignify that with a response.

Stillwell lets loose a brief, pleased chuckle.  “Well gentlemen, a job well done as always.”  She praises, ushering them to the door.  Ben arches a brow at their audible hoots and hollers of celebration as they make their way down the hall.  “Now, Spider-Man, how are you finding things at Vought so far?”

If false sincerity had a smell, she’d be stinking up the room.

“I’m uh… I’m good.”  Ben shuffles, tilting his head from side to side to convey the so-so-ness of his state.  Not that it’s been bad, but it hasn’t necessarily been good.  And how could it be, really?  His whole life was uprooted by the American Jesus himself.  A smooth transition was helpful, but the start was still awful.

“Just good?”  Suddenly a concerned look not unlike a mother tending to her tearful child flickers over her features.  “Has anyone been giving you trouble?”

“No, no– it’s just a lot, y’know?”  

“I understand.  You should know how glad we all are that you came around to the offer.”

Coerced, but sure…

“You were our top pick, after all.” She says with a tilt of the head and a soft smile.

If the vibe wasn’t so damn off-putting, she might actually be kind of sweet.  Benjamin might just buy into that mother dearest tone if it wasn't for that unsettling, opportunistic corporate zombie look in her eyes.

“Now I know you’re already acquainted with Homelander, but it’s certainly about time you met the rest of the team.  Follow me…”

[televisongifs]

MADELYN STILLWELL & HOMELANDER

1x05 good for the soul

[blindmagdalena]

You’ve talked about this for sure, but I’m watching the boys for the first time and it struck me that homelander almost apologizes to Madelyn twice in the one pump chump scene. She insists on gentle when he grabs her hips, and just before he can say sorry for hurting her he (almost compulsively) slaps her ass like it’s to remind himself he can do whatever he wants. But he can’t. And when she re-establishes the no touching boundary not only does he listen, but can’t actually seem to stop himself from apologizing when he’s just come. Though for different reasons, one’s that exclusively relate to his ability to satisfy. It’s so vulnerable and insightful I’m frothing at the mouth, it makes me wonder just how many apologies he’s bitten back. If at one point maybe he was more free with them, even if tbh I think the only thing he can bring himself to be sorry for is not being good enough.

first of all, "one pump chump"? I am in love with you.

second, what a good catch! I agree with you about the compulsive little slap, it does seem like a bid for control because he is spiraling. he obviously didn't want to lose it that quickly, but he literally could not stop himself. Madelyn reduced him so rapidly with such ease, the depths of his starvation for her is just... overwhelmingly immense. he is RUINED by her.

the only thing he can bring himself to be sorry for is not being good enough. man, that got me RIGHT in the gut. I think you really hit the nail on the head here, anon, and I agree with you! this scene with Madelyn is so much more than just about sex, it's about control and vulnerability, and his profound struggle with both.

[tonixe]

Mortality — ♱

#n.o.t.e.s `` Happy New Year, let's start this year off with a bang \\

# w.a.r.n `` Non-con/dub-con, overstimulating, creampie, squirting..., p in the v, penetration, Breeding kink...fingering...cunnilingus

#p.a.i.r.i.n.g `` homelander x fem!reader

#w.c. `` 2.3k

"John," Madelyn spoke out, calling him into her office. She was sitting by her desk, filled with Homelander plushies placed on the bookshelves room. Homelander entered the office, his hands folded behind his back, "You called for me?" he said.

"Well, since your packed schedule and my care for you, you would need an assistant, especially with everything you're doing being American superheroes," Madelyn spoke, placing her chin on her prop-up hand.

"I don't need a babysitter, Madelyn." he shut her down immediately at the thought of it.

"Well, John is not a babysitter if you act like it is," she said as she got up from her chair and walked towards the known superhero in her office.

She continue speaking, as Homelander kept his eyes her, not speaking as she started rubbing her hands on his bicep, "...But you know I would never think that you ever need one, but please at least do it for me, ....John" She gave him a reassuring smile.

"..Besides, she's gonna be here soon; it would let me down if you did have a tantrum now.." Madelyn sat back at her desk.

Homelander's eyebrows twitched to the passive remark that Madelyn said, "I do not throw tantrums-"

"Please, John, not right, no-" she was soon cut off by the sound of knocking

"Just in time, you can come in!" she yelled.

The door opened to attractive looking women wearing long sleeved white shirt with a brown tie enveloped on her body, adorned with extended brown pants accentuating her hourglass figure.

"Hello," you greeted Madelyn, as she gave you a smile back then to Homelander. You held your Ipad in your hand.

"Well, Homelander, this will be your new assistant, Y/N L/N; she'll be charged with your scheduling and social media," Madelyn signs off and turned to the agitated blonde man.

"Im so lucky to work with the one and only Homelander" you smiled at him.

It makes it better since I'm being helped by a beaut like yourself" he gave off his signature smile, the one you'll usually see on TV or when he's on camera.

"Since you guys have already met each other, I think Y/N you can go; I just need to talk to Homelander some more," Madelyn said, crossing her legs.

You nodded, before stepping out of the office. Closing the door, "I'm surprised you didn't hire someone. How do I say ugly." Homelander crossed his arms.

"Why would you think that John" Madelyn place her hand on her on her palm.

"Jealously, maybe," He states.

"Why would I ever be jealous of another random woman, John" the blonde had agitation in her voice.

"Sure" John ended the conversation, before walking out of the office, dismissing Madelyn.

John came out of the office to see you outside the office clicking away on your iPad. "Good morning, Homelander!" you piqued out.

"Hey Y/N" He shoots you with his signature smile.

"Oh yea, I was planning to update your account, you know to advertise your movie coming up," you tilted your head, smiling as you pressed the iPad to your chest, slightly pushing chest up.

"That sounds great," He said as his eyes flick between you and your chest.

"I really appreciate that Homelander!" you gave him one of your sweetest smiles; at that moment, Homelander didn't know, but it felt that piece of humanity inside him, his heart. That hurtful pang from inside, especially when you gave him that carefree smile. It felt like he actually felt something, looking at your face.

"Uh..yea," his face felt warm, maybe even hot. The first time he started stuttering over his words.

"Anything wrong?"

"No.."

"If you need me, I'll be in my office" you gave him another smile as you walked as he looked at you walking down the hallway, staring at your ass.

As you walked down the hallway to your office, you were busy on your iPad, planning for your plans on PR work for Homelander's brand. You adjusted your hair into a ponytail, before getting straight to work. You heard an opening door into your office. A familiar redhead came into the office, "Oh, hey Ashley." you said to her while you stared at your screen.

"Hey Y/N... I just want to congrats you on the promotion," she said, sitting down on one of the chairs infront of your desk. "Thanks!" You smiled at her looking up from your computer.

"Oh, I also got you some coffee while I was on the break," she slides it across to you.

"Thanks again, yeah, it's really something I wouldn't have thought that...Madelyn would do that, you know." you scratch the nape of your neck, "I totally get it" Ashley took a sip of her coffee.

"Oh yea, also Ashle-"

'DING' Ashley's ringtone went off, alerting her of some emails and text messages, "Oh Shit, sorry, I can't really talk right now" She got up quickly, "But I'll definitely meet you up at lunch" she said before picking up her calls.

"Alright..." You muttered, hearing the door close, leaving you in complete silence.

You went back to working on a draft of your project, hoping for some success in making Homelander's brand since the Stormfront, Nazi shit happened. It was a coincidence that Madelyn would hire Homelander as an assistant; it was the most challenging time of his fucking career. You knew Madelyn was out to get you, fucking hag.

Unbeknownst to you, someone was watching you through your office.

5 hours later

You were exhausted, your phone alarm went off, it was currently 10:30 pm, you looked outside of the window, it was dark since it was winter.

You turned off your computer and put it in it's case. You wore your coat, as you got ready to leave, wearing your scarf.

Opening the door, turning off the lights, and walking down the hallway to the elevator. You were busy texting Ashley on your phone.

"Ah-" you accidentally bumped into someone, you quickly looked up to see Homelander in front you.

You froze in fear.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry," you apologized immediately, feeling your heart pounding against your ribcage.

"It's okay," Homelander said; you couldn't hide your red face away from him. He gave you odd looking smile. You backed away from him, grabbing your dropped items from the floor, fixing yourself up.

"Your going home?" Homelander said, "Yeah" you responded.

"It's been a busy workday, you know" you awkwardly laughed, "Uh..Bye" it was a little awkward after what happened just now; you just ran to the elevator, jamming the buttons down.

Soon as the elevator doors open, you went in. Praying tomorrow will be better and less awkward than today; the last thing you see the door closed is the brief sight of the American flag.

3 months later

You walked into the Vought Tower, holding your bag as you walked to the elevator. Heel clanked down on the marble flooring, flipping your hair back while you waited for the elevator coming down.

Becoming Homelander's assistant was improving, with the respect or maybe pity people give to you. Finally, the elevator door opens as you step inside the elevator. You pressed the elevator panel to the 79th floor, and soon the doors closed as you felt the elevator going up.

You took out your phone, looking at emails and some messages from Ashley and some of your co-workers. Scrolling through it most of it, you really didn't care about that.

'DING' The elevator doors opened up, and you walked down the hallway, walking straight to your office; grabbing your key, to your surprise it was already opened. You further opened it to see Homelander already in your office, sitting in your chair.

"Good morning, Y/N," the supe said, standing up from your chair and walking to you as you closed the door and put your coat onto the coat hanger.

"Good morning Homelander-" you responded to him, as you flipped your hair back.

"If I could ask, how did you enter here? It was locked from the outside-"

"Doesn't matter," Homelander cut you off; he was now standing right in front of you. He put his hands on your shoulder as he smoothed the material out. "You know, Y/N, you are such a good assistant; maybe even better than that... impressive,"

Everything in your body was screaming as he said that. You couldn't help but to looked around your office, "Homelander, I'm grateful for your kind words" You said without trying to sound scared. You took his hand off your shoulders, "But why are you here though, is anything wrong?" You questioned.

He cups your face as your eye looks intensely staring into your eyes, it understatement to say you were scared, you were terrified.

"Y/N...you know," Homelander gives a little chuckle to himself, then turns to look at you.

"You have always been in my mind, every single day, did you know that?," he spoke up. You were afraid, couldn't really move at all, but you couldn't help it but to be aroused by that Supe. It would be a understatement to say that Homelander wasn't attractive.

He brings his mouth to near your ear, whispering close to you, "You're wet," as he backs away from you.

Slipping his finger through your skirt to your panties, his fingers shortly played with your clit, his fingers sinking into your folds, lewd sounds coming from your mouth as you tried to covering your mouth. "You like that, don't you" he whispers into your ear before he makes brief eye contact with you.

"Nn-gah" you whine, bitting your lip.

He starts kissing your neck slowly down to your collarbone, as you felt his beady sky blue eyes on your body. His finger curling up into your pussy, you threw your head back, whining.

You felt dirty that you doing it, inside your office with American's golden boy, especially with being his assistant. You felt heat pooled to your lower abdomen, your face felt hot. Homelander's fingers going in faster into you, as your moans got louder and languid.

"That's right, don't hide your moans" He spoke out to you, as you squeeze your thighs between his arms, moaning out loudly to him. Your orgasm came into you, as you moan out loudly.

Your juices coming down from your legs, making a pool on your floor. Homelander took out his finger, as it was covered with your love juices. Your panting echoing the room, as he forced your fingers into your mouth, as you pressed down your mouth on to his finger, sucking them eagerly. The taste of you coating your whole mouth, you kept eye contact with your e/c eyes with his sky-blue eyes. As Homelander hoisted your waist up quickly slamming you onto your office desk.

He ripped your blouse with your f/c brassiere, and your boobs bounced as he pulled it. You turn your head away from him and bite your finger down, making yourself seductively. Your nipples hardened into the cool air. He started marking your chest. While he took off your skirts and panties. He dragged down his pants, revealing his red throbbing cock, the tip of his cock covered with precum. "Maybe I should make you my bitch, just for me to breed and have my children."

Grabbing your legs and laying them down on the side of his neck, you gripped his forearm tightly as he entered you, adjusting to his size.

As you roll your hips desperately for some friction, "P-lease.." you whispered, biting your lips. You looked utterly pathetic; your tights ripped, your blouse ripped into pieces, and your skirt was ripped, as your panties were probably with Homelander.

"You know, you look really pathetic right now," Homelander asserted to you, "..you should use your words, sweetheart," he cups your cheeks, "Come on, use your words, baby," he wooed.

"..P-please f-fuck me, make me your-" your glassy eyes looked at him, and as you held him before you could even continue, he plunged into you. Your boobs bounce up as he thrusts into you.

Your moans were chopped up as he rapidly rammed into you like a rabid rabbit; as he trusted up, you felt he was kissing up to your cervix. "Aah..N-ngh" whining out.

As you felt your orgasm coming,

"Fuck" he thrusted into faster as you felt some bruising up onto your pelvis; you felt him throbbing inside of you. Your eyes briefly saw white as liquid rushed out of you. Rutting homelander rutted inside you, feeling yourself seeing white. He kept jackhammering into your pussy, feeling bruising on your pelvis.

Your panting and moans are heard outside. "Fuck-"

As he thrust into you a few more times before rutting, feeling his hot liquid filling your womb. Panting can be heard throughout the office

"Not bad," Homelander said through his panting as he tucked his penis inside his boxer and pants, leaving you dripping covered in sweat, cum, bruises, and your ripped clothing. "Maybe, you can be used for something else, like my work bitch, ya definitely that." You didn't say anything, putting yourself up on your elbows to look at him as he was getting dressed.

"Meet at my penthouse at 10" Homelander looked at you as he fixed his pant.

"Wear something sexy, too" he tilted his head at you, giving you one of his charming smiles, making you wetter. You watched him exiting your office.

"Damn it," you slam your head softly onto your desk, covering your face in shame.

[deadgirlwalked]

was it casual when we met for the first time and you couldn't help but notice how blue my eyes were?

[xieyaohuan]

Homelander and Madelyn, The Boys, Season 1, Episode 2, "Cherry"

I love how he's trying to be cute for her with his flap down. He was probably standing in front of the mirror adjusting his look, pulling the flap down and up and down again before barging in on her.

[lavender-annd-lilac]

🥺

and the #1 kittyboy award goes to

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Emery: Did your friends like the ice cream--

Sees Homelander walks in covered in blood.

Emery: I'll um...go run you a bath.

[digitalbath1988]

Happy Birthday @blindmagdalena! My fellow Virgo ❤️ I wrote this quickly for you.

You deserve so much more for all the wonderful posts and just being a lovely person. Hope you get to relax today. 🎂 🥛 ❤️🤍💙

Homelander looked down at your pussy, already puffy and dripping in anticipation. You’d been somewhat surprised when he opened the door to Madelyn, while you were mid-foreplay. But the elegant older woman had always interested you. Also, he was The Homelander, and things generally went his way.

“Don’t be shy, sweet boy,” Madelyn said, reassuring hand now sliding over his nude glute. “Why don’t you show your little girlfriend here just how much you’ve learned?”

You bit your lip and looked up at him, knowing he was actually overeager but attempting to control himself. “Yeah, show me,” you say, words like honey, opening your legs further.

He pursed his lips slightly, you could have sworn there was some sort of perverse pleasure in being lightly bossed around, as long as he was rewarded at the end. After far too long he knelt down, focusing his tongue in long, broad, slow strokes that had you wriggling.

Madelyn watched over you both, expression carefully neutral. She always reserved praise (or distaste) for him sparingly and didn’t express without much thought, and this time was no different. As he focused far too much at teasing your labia, you heard “now, what did we talk about?”

He leaned his head up, with a small whine of disappointment from you. Is he bowing his head?

“I ummm, I’m supposed to give more attention to the clit.”

“Good boy, that’s right.” She worked her hand through his hair. “Why don’t you make mommy proud?”

From the look in his eyes when she said it, you suspected he was already attempting to subtly hump the mattress, glute muscles twitching, probably coating himself in pre-cum as she spoke. Madelyn was getting that sight all to herself now, but you took a mental note to file away for later.

Luckily, you’d never been the jealous type. This experience was just exciting, even more so than the times you’d fucked on various rooftops.

He groaned as she guided his head back towards you gently, and started over, not making the mistake of going directly for the clit after a minute of zero stimulation. He started with those broad tongue strokes again, then sucked on your clit as he fingered you. The result was an avalanche. It was all you could do to grasp at the fitted sheet for dear life as you died a little, shuddering and cumming. The fact that she was there watching this made it even hotter, her calculating stare taking you in as you screamed out animalistically.

Finally, after a minute to let you recover, she fluffed his hair again. “Such a good boy. Next time you can take care of both of us.” You were too out of it to register much more than the click clack of her stilettos and the door shutting behind her.

He seemed to regain some sort of confidence, catching your chin on his hand and forcing you to focus on his bright blue eyes. “That’s just the first one, sweetheart.” He said with a grin.