#homelander fic

[lilacwants]

black leather & eyes of blue.

18+ notes: we love obsessive homelander in this house :’)<3 enjoy! summary: no one touches what’s his and what’s his never interacts with people who don’t respect that. you should have learned that by now. warnings: explicit/mature content. secret office romance, domlander, fingering, cowgirl, breast-play, oral(f! receiving), morally grey! reader, killing, possesive & obsessive behaviour. word count: 1.7k

The fluorescent lights of Vought Tower's 75th floor cast a sterile glow over the bustling office. You could feel eyes on you as you navigated the maze of cubicles, clutching a stack of reports to your chest. It had been a particularly stressful week, with deadlines looming and pressure mounting.

All you wanted was a moment of peace to collect your thoughts.

But that wasn't to be.

As you rounded a corner, Daniel from marketing intercepted you with a friendly smile. "Hey there," he said, leaning casually against a cubicle wall. "You look like you could use a break."

You offered him a polite smile. "Just trying to get through these reports. How are you, Daniel?"

He chuckled, a warm, easy sound. "Better now that I've seen you. You know, you really brighten up this place."

You laughed softly, shaking your head.

"You're too kind.”

What you didn't notice was the pair of piercing blue eyes watching the interaction from afar, growing darker with each passing second.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, but the tension followed you home. When you finally made it to your apartment, the door had barely closed behind you before you felt him.

Homelander stood in the shadows, his presence filling the room with an intensity that made your heart pound. He stepped forward, the glint in his eyes sending a chill down your spine.

"You've been ignoring me, sweetheart," he said, voice dangerously calm. "And we can't have that now, can we?"

Before you could respond, he grabbed you and tossed you onto the bed. The reports you had been holding scattered across the floor, forgotten. He ripped his shirt off, his eyes dark with possessive lust.

"You think I didn't see you today?" he growled, climbing on top of you. "That little chat with Daniel?"

Your breath hitched as his hands roved over your body, claiming you. "I was just being polite," you whispered, trying to reason with him.

"Polite?" he repeated, a sinister edge to his voice. "No one touches what's mine. And what's mine never interacts with people who don't respect that."

His lips crashed against yours, hungry and demanding. He pinned your wrists above your head, his grip bruising. His free hand trailed down your side, tearing open your blouse and sending buttons flying. He exposed your bra, his eyes devouring every inch of you.

"You belong to me," he said, his voice low and possessive. "No one else."

He yanked down your bra, his hands rough on your breasts, squeezing and kneading.

You moaned, the mix of pain and pleasure making your head spin. He bit down on your neck, hard enough to leave a mark, and you cried out.

"No one flirts with you," he growled against your skin. "No one makes you smile but me."

His hand trailed lower, slipping under your skirt. You gasped as his fingers found your wetness, teasing you. His eyes locked onto yours, a predatory gleam in them.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured, sliding a finger inside you. "So eager to please."

You moaned, your body arching into his touch. He added another finger, thrusting them roughly, his thumb circling your clit.

The pleasure was overwhelming, your climax building rapidly.

"That's it," he coaxed, his voice a dark whisper. "Come for me. Show me who you belong to."

Your climax crashed over you, your body trembling as you cried out his name. He didn't give you time to recover, lifting you and positioning himself at your entrance.

With one powerful thrust, he was inside you, stretching you, filling you completely.

"You're mine," he growled, his pace relentless. "Always mine."

His hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your flesh as he pounded into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his grunts. He was rough, dominant, and completely in control.

"Say it," he demanded, his eyes burning into yours. "Say you're mine."

"Yours," you gasped, the pleasure almost too much to bear. "I'm yours."

He rewarded you with a deep, bruising kiss, his tongue dominating yours. His hands moved to your breasts, squeezing and kneading, his fingers pinching your nipples.

The sensations were too much, pushing you to the edge again.

"Come for me, sweetheart,” he commanded, his voice a low growl.

Your body obeyed, another orgasm ripping through you, your cries of pleasure filling the room, fingers gripping the sheets. Homelander's eyes never left yours, his gaze intense and unyielding. He followed you over the edge, his own release powerful and consuming, a primal growl escaping his lips as he came inside you.

For a moment, the world seemed to stop.

You lay there, your body trembling and spent, feeling the weight of him on top of you. He stayed inside you for a few more moments, savoring the connection, before finally pulling out. He rolled onto his side, pulling you against his chest, his arms wrapping around you possessively.

"You did well," he murmured, his voice softer now, almost tender. "You're learning."

You nestled against him, feeling a strange sense of security in his embrace despite the intensity of his earlier actions. "Thank you," you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He stroked your hair, his touch surprisingly gentle. "I don't want to see you talking to anyone else at work. Especially not Daniel.”

"I understand," you replied, knowing better than to argue. "I'll avoid him."

"Good," he said, his tone firm. "You belong to me and I won't tolerate anyone else trying to take what's mine."

The next day at the office, you tried to maintain a low profile, avoiding unnecessary interactions, especially with Daniel. But as luck would have it, Daniel caught up with you in the break room. He flashed you a charming smile, holding a cup of coffee.

"Hey," he said, "You seemed a bit off yesterday. Everything alright?"

Before you could respond, you felt a sudden rush of air and heard a terrifyingly familiar voice behind you.

"Everything's just fine," Homelander said, his tone deceptively pleasant.

Daniel looked up, his smile faltering when he saw Homelander. "Oh, uh, Homelander! I didn't see you there."

Homelander's smile didn't reach his eyes.

"Obviously."

In a flash, Homelander grabbed Daniel by the collar and lifted him off the ground. You could see the terror in Daniel's eyes, and you knew what was coming next.

"You think you can flirt with what's mine?" Homelander hissed, his eyes glowing with an ominous red light.

"Wait, no, I-" Daniel's plea was cut short as Homelander's laser vision sliced through him, leaving nothing but a smoldering corpse on the floor. The scent of burning flesh filled the room, and the sight of Daniel's lifeless body should have horrified you, but instead, it sent a strange thrill through you.

Homelander turned to you, his eyes still glowing, blood spattered across his face and chest. "Let's go," he said, his voice commanding.

You followed him back to your apartment, the adrenaline and shock mixing with an inexplicable arousal. As soon as you entered, Homelander closed the door behind you. His presence filling the room with an electric tension. His gaze locked onto yours, intense and unwavering. He approached you slowly, every step deliberate, as if he were stalking prey. The sight of him, splattered with blood from the earlier incident, should have repulsed you, but instead, it ignited a desire deep within.

Without a word, Homelander closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your shoulders firmly. His eyes bore into yours, searching, demanding. There was a hunger in his gaze, a hunger that matched the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

"You liked that, didn't you?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away from him. "I-" Your voice caught in your throat, the words failing you.

His grip tightened slightly, a hint of warning in his touch. "Answer me," he demanded.

A shiver ran down your spine as you nodded slowly. "Yes," you admitted in a whisper. "I did."

A dark, satisfied smile spread across his lips.

"Good."

In one swift motion, he pushed you against the nearest wall, his body pressing against yours possessively. His lips crashed onto yours, claiming you with a raw intensity that made your head spin. You could taste the metallic tang of blood on his lips, feel the heat of his body against yours.

His hands roamed over your body, urgent and demanding. He tore at your clothes, the fabric giving way under his strength. Soon, you were both stripped bare, exposed to each other.

He pushed you back onto the bed, climbing on top of you with a predatory grace. His hands pinned your wrists above your head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice low and possessive. "All mine."

You nodded, unable to speak as desire coursed through you like a wildfire. His lips found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly before he bit down, marking you as his. The pain merged with pleasure, sending sparks of electricity through your veins.

He kissed his way down your body, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. When he reached your core, he didn't hesitate. His tongue flicked over your sensitive flesh, his fingers spreading you open. The sensation was overwhelming, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you.

You moaned, arching into his touch, your hands gripping the sheets beneath you. His tongue worked you mercilessly, each stroke pushing you closer to the edge. He added his fingers, thrusting them deep inside you, matching the rhythm of his tongue. The dual assault sent you spiraling towards ecstasy, your body trembling with need.

"Come for me," he commanded, his voice a dark whisper against your skin. "Show me who you fucking belong to."

Your climax ripped through you like a tidal wave, pleasure consuming every inch of your being. You cried out his name, your back arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over you. Homelander didn't let up, prolonging your ecstasy with expert precision until you were trembling and breathless.

He crawled back up your body, his eyes burning with hunger as he positioned himself between your legs. With one swift motion, he buried himself inside you, filling you completely. The intensity of his desire matched yours, his thrusts deep and powerful.

"You like it rough," he murmured, his voice a husky growl. "Don't you?"

You nodded, unable to form coherent words as pleasure consumed you. His hands gripped your hips, his pace relentless as he pounded into you. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your moans and his guttural grunts.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss. His tongue tangled with yours, dominating you completely. His hips drove into yours with an urgency that bordered on desperation, his need for you palpable.

He broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as he whispered in a voice filled with possessive desire, "Mine. Say it."

"I'm yours," you gasped, the admission spilling from your lips without hesitation.

"Yours."

He groaned, a primal sound of satisfaction, before his movements grew more erratic. You felt him tensing above you, his rhythm faltering as he approached his own release.

"Come with me, sweetheart,” he commanded, his voice strained with pleasure.

His words pushed you over the edge once more, your body convulsing around him as he found his release deep inside you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, a growl escaping his lips as he emptied himself into you.

For a moment, you lay entwined in each other's arms, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat. Homelander's weight pressed against you, his breathing slowly returning to normal. He shifted slightly, his eyes meeting yours with a mix of possessiveness and tenderness that took you by surprise.

"You're mine," he repeated, his voice a whisper against your skin.

You nodded, a strange sense of belonging settling over you despite the chaos of your emotions. "I'm yours," you whispered back, feeling the truth of those words down to your core.

He kissed you gently, his touch surprisingly tender as he caressed your cheek. "No one else gets to touch you," he murmured, his voice filled with a possessive certainty. "You belong to me."

You closed your eyes, a mix of fear and desire coursing through you. "I do, I always will,” you replied, knowing that with Homelander, there was no room for negotiation.

As the night wore on, you lay in his arms, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your chest. In that moment, with the world outside forgotten, you knew that you had willingly stepped into the darkness with him.

[aphroditessaturn]

𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊 𝐈𝐓, 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐓 || 𝐇.

pairing || homelander × fem!reader

summary || Homelander constantly destroys your underwear to the point where you have none left. In conclusion you force him to buy you new ones and have the whole media see it.

warnings || SMUT; we've got tittie sucking, fingering, sublander (I love that word) but also domlander? p in v, unprotected sex, big load (he's a supe so ofc), rough sex, did I forget something?

note || this is my first homelander you guys and sure ain't the last... idk what my problem is with these difficult men and making them soft, please reblog/comment and give feedback!

BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST

“Yes, and tomorrow you have an interview with Fox,” Ashley told Homelander as she trailed after him, clipboard clutched in her hands. The blonde nodded, not even listening completely because his mind was already on you.

He was only meters away from you and could already hear your light humming over the music that played in the background. Ashley kept talking to Homelander’s dismay, not that he wasn’t interested, especially if she was talking about his ratings.

However, you took over his thoughts and body, god, his body longed for you. With his heavy footsteps he walked towards his penthouse and thinking about every position he would put you in.

Homelander opened the doors, and Ashley was still there. He was close to cursing her out, but stopped in his tracks once he laid eyes on you.

You stood in front of the trashcan, throwing away your lingerie. Completely naked. His eyes went wide, as naked as the day you were born you stood there.

Ashley squeaked, holding her clipboard in front of her eyes, “I’m sorry, god, I’m so, so, sorry,” she apologized profusely. Quickly she run out of the room, shocked as to what she just saw and hoped that Homelander wouldn’t punish her.

“What the fuck are you doing,” he questioned you with a glare, slowly making his way over to you.

In response you pouted at him, pushing all your destroyed lingerie into the trash, “well, you see all my pretty lingerie is destroyed and now I have to throw them all away,” you looked up at him with innocent doe eyes.

“Doesn’t explain why you’re naked,” he pressed, although Homelander didn’t mind but he hated anyone else seeing what’s his.

“I have no underwear, dummy,” you teased him with a smile, one that turned his mind around. He had known for years by now and knew exactly that you acted dumber than you actually were.

His patience was waning and he fought himself to not look at your perfectly hard nipples touching his suit coveted chest.

“I can’t even wear my plain once because my handsome boyfriend ripped them when I was on my period,” you added, acting as if you didn’t know what else to do. Your arms snaking around Homelander’s neck.

“Then buy fucking new ones and don’t let anyone see you naked,” he growled as his hands found a vice grip on your hips. “Mhm, but you know the rule. If you break it, you have to replace it,” scolded him, rubbing your breasts against his suit covered chest and pulling on his concentration.

“Fine, take my card,” Homelander hissed, he wanted to get over this topic and simply fuck you. He pushed you back against the wall, his leather gloved hand stroking along the back of your thigh.

“Don’t think so, you will come with me baby boy,” you grinned at him, hooking your leg around his torso.

Homelander didn’t like that, he couldn’t go anywhere without being recognized and how would it look if a superhero was buying lingerie?

As if you could read his thoughts – which by now you could – you pushed back, caressing his cheek while pushing him back onto the sofa. He laid back with you on top of him, still gripping your waist in a way that was sure to leave bruises.

“Imagine how good your ratings would be if you buy your pretty girlfriend all that lingerie. Men would love the control you have, and women will love seeing a devoted boyfriend,” you whispered, praising him as you moved your cunt over his clothed erection.

He released a strained groan, already painfully hard, “everyone will love you,” you whispered into his ear. You leaned down, your nipple hovering over his lips.

You knew how much he loved sucking your tits and you knew what to say to get everything you wanted.

“And don’t you wanna choose what I should wear? I’m too stup-,” “Fine, I’ll fucking go with you,” Homelander hissed and switched you around, now on top of you and his pearl white teeth bared.

Your thighs clenched, your cunt already soaking wet, but you had to suppress the smirk of triumph.

Homelander latched onto your nipple, sucking on it hungrily while his right hand kneaded your unattended breast. You threaded your hand through his gold-blonde hair, harshly tugging on his roots.

His tongue licked around your nipple before gently biting down causing you to arch your back, “John,” you moaned.

With a ‘plop’ sound he released your breast, looking up at you through his beautiful lashes.

Slowly his hand trailed down to your core, the cool leather of his glove causing goosebumps to dance along your skin. He rubbed his thumb over your clit as his attention directed towards you other breast.

You could feel his desperation, it wasn’t from the conversation just moments before, no. It was because of the other team members had gotten his last nerve, VOUGHT had gotten on his last nerve, everyone had gotten on his last nerve.

“Oh, baby,” you mused with a loving smile, taking a deep breath. The pressure on your clit increased, and your breath quickened.

John immediately picked up on your behavior, you were close to your high. He inserted his middle and ring finger inside you, “fuck,” you groaned at the new feeling of his thick fingers.

“They’re all brainless idiots, can’t do a thing right,” he gritted his teeth, curling his fingers against your g-spot. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you tried to come up with words to response, John expected it from you.

“Mhm, yeah, they’re-,” your sentence was cute off by a loud moan slipping from your lips as he bit onto your nipple.

He sucked harder, a desperate call for praise, “you’re right, they’re all brainless, but you, you’re the best of them. John, you’re smart, pretty and the greatest supe,” it rolled off your tongue naturally.

To you he was perfect, he could do no wrong and maybe you were sick in the head for thinking that.

“Make me come, please make mommy come,” you pleaded, grip still tight in his hair. Without hesitation John brought you to your orgasm, a pornographic moan fell from your mouth as you bucked your hips up to meet his thrusts.

“You did so good, you’re perfect John,” you praised as your high rushed through your blood, god you felt amazing.

Homelander reeled in your praise, he needed it to function properly. While he enjoyed, loved, controlling you, telling you what to do and not to do, John worshipped the ground you walked on.

-----

Ahley organized the press along with fans to stand in front of your favourite lingerie shop, Homelander was for once wearing something casual – you forced him to.

“It looks better, trust me,” you told him with a pointed look, “you want them to love you, don’t you?” you added, knowing this would push him over the edge.

Now he wore dark jeans, sneakers and a matching polo shirt. He had a charming smile on his face as he escorted you into the store which was empty – expect for a cashier. Never before did you have the chance of shopping private like this, online shops were your best friend.

Your man looked around, already picturing you in some of the lingerie that catched his eye. “What do you think of this one?” you asked, showing him a blue piece, it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary, just a baby blue lace set.

“It’s uhm, pretty,” boring, fucking boring, was what he wanted to say. You rolled your eyes playfully and continued looking around, until something unique came into your sight.

Quickly you took your size and vanished into the changing room, of course Homelander heard you and followed you curiously.

You put on the hot pink bra, the underside was see-through, and the top was decorated with flowers. The slip was the same, meaning most of your vagina was visible add to that it was connected with two strings on each side.

The accessory that made you pick it was the choker, it came with a chain that went down between your breasts and was attached to flower shaped belt which fitted your waist perfectly.

Homelander waited outside, impatiently looking around the room until you were ready. Then you opened the curtain, revealing yourself.

You smiled at him innocently, “how does this look?” you asked. He took a step towards you, hand tracing along the fabric and causing a shiver to run down your spine. Suddenly he hooked his point finger around the chain, slowly dragging you to him.

He leaned down, lips hovering over yours, “you’re playing a dangerous game little lady,” he whispered. You pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him impossibly close.

“I’m not playing any game,” you told him honestly, playing with the tiny hairs on his nape. “Don’t think just because they’re many, many people out there I won’t fuck you till you can’t walk anymore,” Homelander threatened, but was it really a threat if you would enjoy every second of it?

“Promise?” you smirked and within a second you were pressed against a wall. Homelander slid his hand down to your core, in your mind you already knew what was about to happen.

With that he snapped the pink panties in half, pushing his two fingers inside you, “look at that, little slut is already wet,” he taunted you.

Your head fell back as he curled his fingertips against your cervix, his unoccupied hand came up to lift your leg around his torso.

“Does that feel good mhm? Come on let me hear you, let them hear you,” he rubbed his thumb over your clit, finally drawing a moan from you. Homelander kissed you, hard, pushing his tongue into your mouth.

He showed his dominate side, hand leaving your side to undo your hand around his neck. Slowly moving it towards his belt, a silent order to open it which you follow without hesitation.

The trousers of his suit fell to the ground, Homelander hosted you up into his arms and entering you in one stroke, giving you no time to adjust to his size – as if he ever did.

You moaned, biting your lip in pleasure. For a moment he stilled inside you, his heavy breathing hitting your skin. Slowly he moved his hips upwards, you could feel him stretching your cunt, feel him hit that spongy spot inside you.

“Fuck, you’re fucking me so good, so good,” you groaned, eyes rolling in the back of your head. Homelander grinned at you, “yes, yes, tell me how good I’m. Fucking tell me and I will let you cream all over my fat cock.”

“You’re good, fucking amazing, baby. No one compares to you, you’re so good,” you chanted as he pounded into you at a ruthless pace.

Sometimes you wondered if your cervix could form bruises, but what you knew was that it could become difficult to walk out of this store.

A tight knot formed in your stomach, pleasure building up and you gripped Homelander’s hand, guiding it towards your clit.

“That’s right, I’m fucking you and you love it, you love me. Say it, come on,” he growled, letting go of your thigh and you closed your legs around his waist, sucking his cock deeper in. You need to feel more of him.

His hand came up to your throat as you didn’t answer, stilling inside of you, “I said, tell me you love me, or I will fill you until my seed is dripping down your legs and you can’t take it anymore, but you little lady, little slut won’t get to come.”

Tears welled in your eyes, you wouldn’t even mind it and he fucking knew it, but for your own sanity you had to answer him. Play into his game, because in your sick twisted mind you enjoyed it.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much,” you whimpered, clutching your hands on his shoulders, begging him to move.

“You do, don’t you? Want me to make you come, want me to fill you up?” he asked, though he knew the answer he, wanted to hear it from you.

“Mhm, yes, want you to make me come, please, please and fill me up, I want it so bad,” you begged, and he finally moved again, rocking his hips up. They you begged him brought him closer to his high, he loved having you at his mercy, doing everything he wanted.

A pornographic moan slipped from your lips as he rubbed over your clit and hit your g-spot. You reached your high, the knot exploding and smashed your lips onto Homelander’s to muffle another moan.

He barred his teeth, releasing his cum into your cunt and his pace slowed down. “Come, paint me baby,” you whispered into his ear.

----

“These please,” you grinned at the woman working the register, letting a pile of lingerie fall onto the counter. Every sort of color and shape, nervously the woman cashed you up, “a bag?” she asked to which you nodded.

“That will be 300,36 please,” she said, “cash or card?” she added, looking at you and not daring to spare Homelander a glance.

You held out your palm to your boyfriend who huffed before putting his card into your hand, “thank you,” you said and laid the card down, then stepping aside once it signaled, “pin, “ you told him and gestured to the machine.

Homelander put in the pin while the cashier packed everything up, handing it to you, “thank you very much,” you smiled.

Finally, she found the voice to ask Homelander for an autograph, “oh, sure everything for my fans! You guys are the real hero’s,” he showed her his pearly white teeth and signed her card.

“We could do this a lot more often, go shopping together, maybe have a little lunch date,” you trailed off, teasing him.

Outside there was a lightening of reporters and fans, all wanted pictures and asked questions. In Homelander style and because of Vought, he answered some of them, but he had to keep himself together.

"What is it like to have such a devoting boyfriend?"

"Anything else you do for your girlfriend?"

"How is you future looking? The two of you are a beautiful couple!"

"Thank you, thank you! The future is bright and what my girl wants she gets, there is truly nothing I won't give her," he smiled at them brightly. You posed for pictures, getting bolder with every flash.

Homelander wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side to whisper in your ear. "You better behave little lady, I will punish you until you can't walk a fuckinf millimetre."

"Promise?"

please reblog/comment and give feedback! I would love to know if you like my Homelander fics, I have so many ideas

BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD | TAGLIST

[ultravioletrayz]

KINKTOBER

╰┈➤ DAY FIVE: PUBLIC SEX + EXHIBITIONISM w/ HOMELANDER

Being with Homelander, you've quickly become America's doll. Little girls admire you, men ogle you, women envy you. You embody perfection— a sweet and pretty adornment for Homelander that Vought eagerly showcases to reinforce his heroic persona, while quelling concerns over his volatile nature by presenting you as his anchor to humanity's virtues.

Meanwhile, Homelander finds himself enamoured with your sweetness, a stark contrast to his usual entourage of adoring yet superficial admirers who fall into his orbit like moths to a flame. Though, he doesn't let you know of his smitten thoughts. He's concerned that if you actually knew the power you had over him, over everyone, you would lose yourself to the fame like so many of his other conquests tend to do. And he can't have that. You're just too precious.

Instead, he treats you more like a plaything, a placeholder for the kindness he's supposed to be conveying as a hero. That's why he drags you along to every interview, photoshoot, advert, convention, filming... he needs to flaunt you. He needs to show the world that he's the type of man that can score such an innocent girl, and subsequently portray a sort of gentlemanly image.

That gentlemanly image is non-existent now.

"If you keep fucking squirming, I'll call up some of these pigs to have a turn, huh? Just take it." Homelander grits out against your ear, strong hands keeping your cute dress bundled up as he thrusts into you from behind, the image blown up in size on the big screens around the convention hall. One innocent question is all it took for Homelander's resolve to snap. A mere "why are you so shy?" from a fan directed at you, to which your sweet boyfriend insisted on proving everyone wrong by showing off how much of a cock whore you are.

The audience are all cheering Homelander on with vigour, reeling at the raw display of masculine power. It's degrading, watching hundreds of people through teary lashes looking back at you as your tits bounce and your thighs quiver, your own slick running down your skin for all to see. But some sick part of you like it. Likes being seen as Homelander's toy. It's fucking exhausting pretending to be so cutsie every day, when all you want is to get your cunt stuffed with some thick, supe dick.

"How about I knock you up?" Homelander groans, hips rutting up into you with even more ferocity at the thought of getting you pregnant, of the changes your body would endure as his potent cum takes over you, makes you his alone.

"Clap if you think I should give America's sweetheart a baby!" Homelander calls out, balls grinding against your sopping pussy as he gets off on the applause of his adoring fans, almost cumming right then as he observes the uproar of encouragement.

"You heard them, honey. Gotta give the people what they want, don't we?"

eughhhh

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

Homelander being obsessed with his sister HC II

Warnings: heavy siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, dubcon, noncon, manipulation, stalking, basically all the horrible parts of HL come out to play, MC has blonde hair and blue eyes like HL, different plot than 'All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed', kidnapping

I III IV V

Mother fucker would definitely find a way to lock you up in his personal apartment. It’s not easy to keep a supe that had the same powers as him as a captive. Through trial and error, Homelander would find a way to keep you hidden. His little secret

Has major mood change at work and a new skip in his step. All smiles and syrupy sweet voice.

Your parents and friends would go into immediate action to try and find you.

HL installs motion detector cameras throughout his apartment to keep an eye on you when he’s too far away. If anything happened, he knew he could be there in a flash

All day you were forced to wait for him until he got off of work (though does a hero ever really have time off?), like a pet. During that time all you could do was stare at the tv that HL had kindly turned on for you.

Of course you'd tried to escape in the beginning. But HL was faster than you.

Bored out of your mind from the constant stream of tv, you'd manage to wiggle over to the box that Homelander had shown you your first day there. You had time to really look at the contents though it was difficult without the free use of your hands. There were pictures of you as a little girl with your mom and dad. Lo and behold, you even found a picture of you on a young HL lap. Documents upon documents with Vought's stamp on them had you accepting the truth that HL was indeed your blood brother.

Homelander gives up trying to jog your memory once you inform him that you really don't remember much growing up. But you acknowledge him as being your sibling by blood.

"I believe you, but this doesn't condone kidnapping and keeping me here, Homelander." You countered, still not understanding why he went through all of this trouble. Just because you were his sister? That seemed too outrageous to you. Then again, you still didn't really know the real Homelander.

He corrects you. "John. You can call me John." He'd told you that several times but you just couldn't bring yourself to say such a simple name to this legend of a man.

Honestly, the whole abduction thing was a spur of the moment idea but once he found himself in the air with you in his arms, he made the decision that he was going to keep you to himself whether you liked it or not. That was the only way to make sure you wouldn't forget him again or leave him.

And some morbidly twisted feeling was growing inside of him every time he looked at you. You were perfect. Like he was. He talked himself into thinking that this was okay, that he was always meant for someone who was just as perfect as he was. And who better than you who has the same genetic mockup as he did.

He'd tell you all of this like it was the most simplest thing in the world. You gape at him in horror at his grotesque explanation.

Unnerve and discontent raised the hairs up on the back of your neck. What he'd said sounded a lot like him talking about incest. That roiled your stomach, making you feel sick.

He hated the fear he smelled on you in that moment, Homelander even pulls back from you and puts you at arm's length. You hate how he reduced you to someone so helpless. You also hate how much he really scares you.

Swallowing something thick in his throat, HL looks away from you with what you could only read as disgust. Maybe at you? Not for you though. For himself. He'd scared you and that was enough to shame him.

He'd mutter out an incredibly soft apology before leaving his apartment.

I'm thinking that as long as I have HC ideas of this, that I'll just be adding parts whenever the feeling strikes 🙂

[honeymaze]

nothing but the two of us

bad days are a constant to him, but your presence is, thankfully, a constant as well.

❤️‍🔥 homelander x supe!fem!reader | established relationship, graphic mentions of dark content (violence, death, reader isn’t the best person out there either), hurt/comfort, reader’s powers aren’t specified (nor does she “work” as a supe), no plot/slice of life

note: hey! just an angsty drabble to open this new blog. hope you guys like it!

-

There is a thick mist glazing over the city as he arrives at his place, just a little before the setting sun takes shelter behind the skyline. Homelander is beyond exhausted, as he usually is, and he feels like the weight on his shoulders might be a little too heavy for him to handle. There aren’t powers in the world that can soften the blow of being paraded around like a caged animal for an entire day — photographed, talked to relentlessly, groped — and there’s nothing he can’t do but endure it.

It’s a divine joke, really. That he is much stronger than everyone else, and yet he has to settle for this game of pretend. They take everything from him, and he scrapes for all the compliments and looks of awe that he can get. But even that is starting to get old.

“Let me guess, bad day?” Your voice breaks his thoughts. He finds you instantly, wearing only an oversized shirt and taking a sip from your coffee. “You look like you’re about to lazer through me.”

He clicks his tongue. “Doesn’t work, remember?” Homelander tries to play it off. You don’t buy it. He sighs and crosses his arms. “Bad day, horrible. Ashley should be grateful that she isn’t in a coffin right now, I’ve already — I’ve already told her how much I hate these stupid interviews.”

You smile, putting your cup down. The act alone makes something stir up inside him. “Vought magazine, right?”

He rolls his eyes. “They couldn’t come up with an original name and they want me to pretend like I care.”

“I don’t know how you manage,” your sarcasm is lost on him, for he only sighs and nods vigorously. “But come on. You’re with me now, magazine be damned. We should enjoy our night.”

“Stupid fucking animals — primates, all of them,” Homelander continues to complain, turning his back to you. He places his hands on his hips and looks over the city that expands just beyond his window. “I could kill all of them with one blow.”

You come behind him, giggling at his hissy fit. John is such a manchild, you can’t take these comments seriously (even if you’ve seen enough proof that they’re not only vacant threats).

“Baby, I know that. They know that. That’s why they love and respect you so much,” you reason. Your arms wrap around his waist and Homelander tenses — then relaxes, melting into your touch. You rest your cheek against his broad back, the vague scent of ashes and blood dancing in your nose. Even if he cleans it, you can still catch it: magazine interviews weren’t everything he did today. But you won’t pry, you don’t really care that much. “If Ashley pushes you through another interview, she’ll have to answer to me. And I’m much meaner and harder to please.”

That manages to tear a laugh from him. “Glad you know that.” He turns around and runs one hand through your hair. His blue eyes went from a dark storm to a calm sea, always a good sign that you’re managing to get to his rational (softer) side. “Thank you.”

You smile and kiss him briefly. In your mind, there’s a clear distinction between Homelander and John, and when you manage to make him click out of his “super-better-than-you” mindset, you’ve won.

The next hour passes by in a routine that you’ve grown used to — a warm shower, the brief cleaning of fast-healing wounds, a passing comment about the sprinkles of blood in his blonde hair. There’s an unspoken knowledge between the two of you about the true nature of the man standing before you and, just as clearly, the notion that you don’t mind it. Maybe that’s why Homelander enjoys your company so much: you don’t judge, you don’t care. He doesn’t know if you look down on non-supes as much as he does, but the bottom line is that you don’t care enough about a few casualties that manage to brighten his day. And that’s enough for him.

“And they were able to cover up that alley situation, right?” You ask randomly as he turns off the shower. John scoffs. “I mean, yeah, I know they always do, but usually things don’t go that south. Starlight looked like she was in shock when I saw her enter the building.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

But it was. The alley situation in question was a mission that the seven were assigned to last week — something about bombs and gun traffic at the dark corners of the city. It was supposed to be a clean-cut mission: get in, neutralize the threat, look for victims, get out. There was one aggravating factor, however: Homelander was having the worst day in weeks, and you were out of town. One thing led to another and at some point the mission turned from “stopping the evil men” to “controlling the unhinged Homelander before he blew up an entire neighborhood”. The destruction was so massive that it was easy to pass it off as a massive bomb activation, but a few surrounding cameras told a different story. The devil works hard but Vought works harder — though, it’s hard to stop a video from spreading after it’s uploaded somewhere.

“Just wanna know if they asked you about it during the interview, that’s all,” you say, reaching for the towels. You could say that you’ve seen it stir up quite the frenzy online, but you knew better than that. As much as you were able to calm down John from a few hissy fits, you knew that the public hatred was stronger than a few soothing words from your end. “I know you always answer the right things and I—“

“So there’s nothing to worry about,” he interrupts. “I don’t know how you can just walk around and live like one of these… worms. Makes me think that you like them more than your own kind.”

In the end, it always comes down to this little mind game: us or them. Homelander or the rest of the world.

“Well, first of all, I don’t think I have what it takes to be in the spotlight, I’m not as good as you,” you start off strong, with a caress to his ego. His blue eyes are frozen in place, staring deep inside your soul for any sign of lies. As much as he can’t lazer through your head, he could break your neck if he tried. And, once again, there’s a thin line between love and hate when it comes to him. “Second… I know my worth regardless of what I choose to do. It’s not because I work amongst non-supes that I see myself as one of them. I like what I do.” Your hand reaches out for his cheek, and he rests his head on your hand. “Besides, I already have everything I want right here. No supe or non-supe world could ever compete, so why even bother?”

Homelander’s eyes stay locked in for another second, not one line of expression on his face. He sighs and relaxes his shoulders, finally adverting his gaze. “I like having you home when I arrive,” is all he answers — in his words: I like you’re not out there when I need you.

“And I’ll always be home for you,” you say, smile growing on the corners of your lips.

He nods. For now, that’s enough.

[isroji]

if villain, why hot?

[thewritingofamadwoman]

A little snippet that came to mind, since all I’ve been thinking about for the past week and a half is this menace. Should I continue? Let me know what you think x

“Hey, there he is! Say hi to Translucent everybody!” Homelander said cheerfully, as he wrapped his arm around Translucent’s shoulders, effectively pulling him away from you. The invisible man smiled and waved out to the crowd.

“Hey Homelander,” he responded, smiling as the fans cheered and roared at seeing two of the most famous heroes of The Seven acting like the best friends they all assumed they were.

Homelander kept a smile on his face as he used his other hand to slap Translucent’s chest in what seemed to be a friendly gesture. But you knew otherwise. Homelander’s chuckle faded as leaned in.

“Hey, yeah, if I ever see you fucking look in her direction again I’ll burn a hole into your fucking skull. Indestructible skin, give me a fucking break,” Homelander’s smile widened as Translucent paled, a fake smile still plastered on his lips.

“What? Homelander I-“

“Uh-uh. Nope, you don’t get to fucking speak,” Homelander jostled the invisible man closer to him, still smiling. “This guy, huh?” He called out onto the crowd, his canines glistening as they caught the sunlight. The fans ate the interaction up, cheering louder.

“I won’t repeat myself, you fucking pervert. Look at her like that again and I’ll kill you,” he promised. With one last laugh and shake, Homelander let the invisible man go and waved out to the crowd as everyone roared even louder than before. Translucent turned back to his line of fans waiting to take a picture while Homelander made his way over to you, his smile never faltering. You were bent over, leaning down to take a picture with a little girl who showed up to the event dressed as you. Homelander smiled politely at the girls parents and “humbly” refused their praise as they thanked him for keeping the city safe.

“No, please. You guys are the real heroes. We just wear the suits.” He nodded graciously and you smirk up at him as they leave.

“For someone who just threatened to kill one of our team members, you’re awfully cheerful,” you teased. Homelander playfully rolled his eyes at you, his hands poised behind his back in his signature pose.

“That ungrateful little fuck needs to learn to keep his eyes off of things that aren’t his,” he shrugged, giving a tight smile to another on looker who called out his name and waved.

“Oh is that so? And what exactly was he looking at ‘that wasn’t his’?” You joked sincerely as you smiled out into the crowd again and they chanted your name. Homelander looked down at you again, this time his voice almost as sincere as yours.

“You,” he replied and you laughed, not catching onto his change in tone.

“And pray tell, to whom do I belong to then?” You sassed, and turned to look him in the eye ruefully. Homelander’s gaze was focused solely onto your eyes and your smile faltered slightly at his semi-serious expression.

“Me. Duh.”

[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.”

[bootyshortsjacob]

Booty, we have so many already butttt elevator scene rewrite. Pls! I’ll love you forever! Rough sex and everything. Homelander has to leave Starlight destroyed in the elevator. bc fuck Hughie. <3

Between the Floors

Here you go anon. Tumblr exclusive... 🫶🏼. Love you too!!! I'll probably throw this on ao3 later, but enjoy I hope I did what you wanted.

Starlight strode down the busy Vought Tower corridor to the elevator. As she walked by certain employees, they would either nod when they saw her or even look at her respectfully. All eyes would be on her no matter what she had done. They loved their superhero as the perfect, unfailing image of purity and righteousness.

A blast of cool air and the gentle whirr of machinery greeted her at the elevator door in contrast to the movement in the open corridor. Starlight stepped through as the doors shut themselves.

As the doors were about to close, a hand slipped between them, preventing them from closing. Starlight paused for a long moment as the doors were held open. Her surprise was mixed with a hint of curiosity as she turned to see who had stopped the elevator.

The elevator door opened fully to reveal a tall, charismatic figure. Homelander stood there, his face devoid of any emotion. He stepped into the elevator, his presence instantly filling the enclosed space. His sharp blue eyes met Starlight's momentarily before he casually stood behind her with no words.

Starlight watched him and swallowed before speaking, "Hey... Homelander."

Homelander let the silence linger for a moment longer before reaching out and touching the emergency stop button.

As Homelander's finger pushed down the emergency stop button, Starlight's heart began beating a little faster from surprise. The elevator stopped with a lurch, and the silence gave way to anticipation.

Homelander almost caught the fleeting suspicion from Starlight. His face was blank as he turned to focus on her. It felt like his eyes were drilling into her, watching every step she took, waiting for how she would respond.

Homelander sighed deeply before speaking with a chilling voice, "Maeve… Maeve begged me to let you live…. So, I gave you a second chance. And you... failed me."

Starlight shuddered at Homelander's words. The flat tone spelled danger, and her heart rate picked up again. Her voice was cracking; the fear started slipping through even as she tried to hold it together. "W-what are you talking about?" Starlight stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.

Homelander clicked his tongue before focusing on her and shook his head, "No more lies."

Starlight's heart dropped at Homelander's words. He seemed looking right through her, and she gave up trying to deny it. She hesitated and then gave up trying to answer.

Homelander's hand snapped out with the speed of a striking snake and wrapped around her neck. Starlight was taken by surprise with the unexpected attack. Homelander pressed her against the wall, squeezing harder while depriving her of air for a few seconds as she gasped. She reached for his arm to dislodge his hand instinctively.

The impact caused her vision to blur a bit. She could not help but panic. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but she was too far gone now, too petrified as she peered into the frozen orbs of Homelander's eyes.

Homelander maintained his hold on her throat, tight enough to remind her how easily he could kill her. He moved in a bit closer, now little more than inches from her face. "Go ahead and scream as much as you want," he snarled, his voice tinged with disappointment and rage. His fingers tightened slightly around Starlight's throat, squeezing it just enough to make her gasp for air again.

Starlight tensed as Homelander's hand slid down her superhero costume, though she could feel how hot his hand was even through the fabric. She winced as he dug into her stomach, causing her to shiver in response.

Starlight felt a painful pressure as Homelander's knifelike hand pressed harder into her stomach. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep her voice steady. "Wh-what... did I do?" She gasped, the words struggling to escape as he continued applying pressure.

Homelander's intense gaze bore into hers as he spoke, his voice soft but dangerous at the same time. "I told you to kill Hugh Campbell, and you hesitated," he sneered, digging his hand harder into her stomach now.

Starlight's eyes widened in surprise and fear as Homelander's hand pressed even harder into her stomach, the pain becoming sharper. She grunted softly, her body tensing under the pressure. "I... I said we should go to the police..." she tried to protest, her voice shaky.

Homelander's grip on her throat tightened further as he spoke, his voice a dangerous whisper now. "You disobeyed my orders because you're with him," he said, his fingers pressing deeper into her stomach.

Starlight's mouth opened wide as a moan of pain slipped out; she could feel his fingers threatening to puncture her body.

Homelander's eyes flickered with anger and satisfaction as he felt her body respond to the pressure he was exerting. She almost had no voice left, and the pain in her groan made him feel even more like he was powerful and entirely in control of her. His hand was like a burning brand on her belly, and the burn increased with every passing moment.

There was no more room for conversation as the only sound was Starlight's pained scream, which only spurred Homelander on. He continued to press his fingers into her stomach, holding her against the wall with a vice-like grip.

As she struggled to speak, her words came out in short gasps and wails of pain, the pressure Homelander was exerting on her stomach making it difficult for her to draw a full breath. He leaned in closer, his face just inches away from hers, relishing his power over her.

"F-f-fuck you. Hughie Campbell broke my fucking heart... w-worse than anyone ever has-s..." Her gloved hands still scrambled at the wrist of his hand around her throat as she continued in a stammer. "And part of me w-wants to blast his fucking face off, so no, I'm not with him." Starlight managed to force out her words despite her difficulty breathing, and her anger and pain were evident in her voice. "But if you want to kill me because I'm not a murderer and I won't straight up execute someone, then go ahead."

Homelander's eyes darkened further at Starlight's words. Her defiance only seemed to fuel his anger and possessiveness even more. He could feel her body shaking against his grip, the combination of pain and emotion causing her voice to tremble.

Starlight was filled with pain and fear despite the defiance in her voice. Homelander felt the tension in her body as he held onto his grip on her; it only made him want to assert more dominance over this woman.

Her ears were filling with her own heartbeat, and panic was swirling in her head as Homelander's hand tightened around her throat. She fought to maintain her composure, but the pressure of his fingers against her skin was beginning to wear her down. "So, tell m-me, am I-I lying," she managed to choke out.

Homelander glowered down at Starlight, the grip on her throat tightening more as he considered her words. He leaned in closer, his body nearly pressed against hers, his voice cold and calculated. "No, you're not lying..."

Homelander trailed off momentarily to notice the slightest bump in Starlight's heart rate. As much aggression and anger as he had for her, he could not help but notice how softly she breathed in proximity to him now. He held her by the neck, but his eyes dilated slightly as he observed her face. A flicker of curiosity seemed to cross his features, and he continued to hold her pinned against the wall, his body close enough to feel the heat radiating from her skin.

Homelander could hear the small, involuntary sounds of her breathing, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly. Despite the pain he was causing her, there was a hint of something more primal and intense building between them at that moment.

Homelander leaned a little closer, his breath hot against her ear as he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not as good at lying as you think," he hissed, his fingers digging into her skin just a bit more as he pressed against her.

The warmth of his skin next to hers now filled Starlight with a sense of vulnerability. Her heart sped up to match the cadence of her racing thoughts. The combination of fear and panic ran wild in her veins, but something more she couldn't name rose as well and fueled the emotions inside her.

As she heaved with ragged breath, her ample chest rose and hell repeatedly. Homelander's gaze focused on her breasts and the way she responded to him, her heart hammering in her chest, the feel of her skin under his fingertips.

His hand softened instead of digging into her stomach, and slowly, he slid it up her chest. Starlight's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected gesture. Her breathing hitched, and fear and something else flared within her. While he was a threat and dangerous, she could not help but like the way her body shuddered for this man.

His hand went higher and higher until it closed gently around the curve of her breast through the costume. Her skin heated beneath his fingers as she felt her heart rate heighten even more, and a secretive smile crept up his lips as he listened to her heart race again.

One of Homelander's hands teased at the low-cut neckline of her supersuit, and Starlight's eyes were drawn to it. His fingers moved around the fabric, teasing her sensitive skin. She was aware of his gaze on her face, observing every move and noting every gesture.

He caressed her collarbone with firm but tender fingers. He knew he affected her; the way her chest rose and fell with every breath, the way her eyes darkened just a fraction as he touched her. His fingers teased the edge of her neckline, slipping under the fabric and gently brushing against her skin. Her heart's thumping grew faster, as did the tension surrounding them.

Starlight's breath hitched as Homelander played with the edge of her costume while running his hands down her body, not just because she was afraid of what he might do but because her body betrayed her, reacting to his touch in a way that surprised both of them, and she tried to contain herself.

Homelander grinned, and Starlight sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the soft skin beneath her super suit started to harden his cock. He saw her fear and lust etched in the way she looked at him as he kept touching her, his fingers drawing designs on her skin.

Starlight responded as if on autopilot, purring in the back of her throat and relaxing into his exploring. Her hands gripped his arms, unsure if she wanted to push him away or pull him forward. "Y-you didn't tell me. W-was I lying?" Starlight tried to keep her voice from trembling and repeated her question.

Homelander's hand stopped for a moment, and his fingers lay flat against her breast. Head tilted, he looked at her as if surprised by her interruption. Finally, an almost-inaudible, near-lethal drawl slipped out, "I don't know. I haven't decided yet." He pulled the edge of her collar away as he answered, "I'm far too preoccupied." With that, he lowered his head and kissed her neck gently, his teeth finding a tender spot and nipping at her skin. Starlight gasped in response and held his arms even tighter. But her body responded to his touch, the pool of heat in her core growing.

Homelander continued to tease her skin, his teeth and lips working their way along her throat, his hands roaming her body in a possessive yet gentle way. He seemed to enjoy the way she responded to his touch, the way her body betrayed her despite her best efforts to remain stoic.

Starlight's breathing grew ragged and uneven, the feel of his teeth and lips on her skin sending waves of pleasure through her. She tried to push him away, but her hands only seemed to hold him tighter, her body responding to his touch in ways she couldn't control.

As Homelander unzipped the front of Starlight's super suit, he exposed more of her body to the cool air around them. His predatory expression moved over her body with a fierce, hungry gaze.

Homelander's tongue slowly dragged over his fangs as he stared at Starlight's breasts that were hidden behind the unzipped material of her costume. His eyes darkened with lust as he placed his hands on her hips, mapping out the curves of her body. "You really are quite beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "A shame you had to go and lie to me."

Starlight's eyes darkened as Homelander's hands began to slide the fabric of her costume over her shoulders, exposing her breasts to the cool air. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, the heat from his body warming her skin even more.

Homelander's eyes bore into her flesh, hands gliding over her skin as sensations of euphoria swept through her. She tried to fight, but her body arched into his touch. His hands coasted over her body.

Starlight's breathing was labored, and the touch of his hand moving against her sent liquid heat through her veins. His erection pressed against her thigh, and her body seemed to unconsciously roll her hips, which was also strangely intentional.

Homelander's hands roamed over Starlight's body, and he felt her respond to him—the warmth of her skin under his touch. His fingers ran over her breasts, teasing at her nipples, drawing gasps of pleasure from her lips. His hand slid down further, teasing at the waistband of her costume, pulling it down further to expose more and more of her skin to his gaze.

His lips found her neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he whispered against her ear, his voice dark and dangerous. "You should have told me the truth, Starlight," he said, his hand sliding down her stomach and over the exposed skin. "But it's not too late to make it up to me."

Starlight's breathing grew even more ragged as his hand slid lower, her body quivering in anticipation. His breath was hot on her skin, and his teeth nipped at her ear. She knew she was toeing the line, but the way he caressed her and the way he teased her made it hard to resist. She could feel herself surrendering to the feeling, her body melting beneath the intoxicating caress. The heat and gentleness of his fingers as they pressed into the folds of her pussy caused her legs to part for him effortlessly.

Starlight groaned as his fingers slid into her opening, and his thumb circled around her clit. It was heavenly, and she was writhing with the way he fingered her. Her fingers found their way to his hair, clutching him as he worked her over, her breathy moans echoing through the space. Her pussy tightened around his fingers, her thighs shaking as she came apart around him. She collapsed against him, her body shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm. His mouth found her ear again. "That was only a taste," he said, his fangs nipping at her earlobe. "I want more, Starlight."

As he spoke, he pulled his hand away from her pussy, his fingers slick with her cum. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean, the taste of her flooding his senses. He felt his cock getting stiffer at the sight of her boneless against the elevator wall, her body exposed and ready for him to take. He leaned over her, his mouth finding hers once more.

While they kissed, Homelander's fingers found their way to her pussy again, teasing her entrance as they pressed inside. His mouth swallowed her moans as he worked his fingers in and out of her, stretching her to take more him. His lips were wet against hers, his tongue tangling with hers as he continued to fingerfuck her.

The sensation was almost too much to bear. Starlight's moans echoed through the metal box, her body shaking as he worked her toward another orgasm. The feeling was so good, her body melting into him as he kissed her, his fingers curling inside of her. She came apart around him, her muscles clenching around his fingers as she orgasmed again.

This time, Homelander didn't pull away. Instead, he continued to kiss her, his tongue tangling with hers as he worked her through her orgasm. His hands found their way to her hips, lifting her off of the wall and pulling her legs around him. His lips didn't leave hers as he pressed her back against the elevator wall, holding her body flush against his. His tongue continued to dance with hers, his hands roaming over her body, touching her skin as if trying to commit every inch of her body to memory.

Their bodies were pressed tightly together, the feel of her skin against his driving him wild. He could feel the heat from her body, the way she trembled and quivered against him.

Homelander's hands fumbled with his golden eagle belt, his body shaking with anticipation as he tried to free himself. He felt wild, feral, possessed by a need that made his fingers clumsy and his breath in ragged gasps. As he finally managed to get his belt unbuckled and his spandex lowered, he pressed himself against her body, his bare skin against hers, their bodies molding together as if they were made for each other. She was so wet, so hot against his cock, and he knew he wouldn't last long once he was inside her.

He pressed the head of his cock against her entrance, her pussy slick with her arousal, and she was already trembling with pleasure as he pushed in. His lips broke away from hers as he groaned loudly, her body clenching around him as he began to thrust. "Fuck," he gasped against her lips, "You. Feel. So. Fucking. Amazing."

Starlight's eyes were glazed, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen. He couldn't look away from her face as he fucked her, her expression so fucking beautiful. He could see how much she enjoyed it, how she loved the feel of his cock inside of her.

Her fingers were digging into his back, her nails scratching against his spandex top as she pulled him closer to her, her body undulating against his. "Harder," she whispered, "I can take it."

He grinned, his lips brushing against hers, and he gave her what she asked for. He fucked her harder, his cock slamming in and out of her body, her body shaking against his. The way her body quivered with every thrust was addictive, and he wanted more.

She moaned loudly, her eyes rolling back as he fucked her, her pussy tightening around his cock. It wasn't enough to make him cum, but he could tell she was close again. He didn't want to cum until he was sure she'd found her release again.

Homelander shifted his body slightly, his cock angling upwards as he thrust inside of her. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening as he hit the spot inside of her that made her whole body tremble.

"God," Starlight moaned, her voice hoarse with pleasure. "God, right there." He continued to hit that spot with every thrust, his cock driving in and out of her body, her pussy tightening around him. Her nails dug into his super suit, her body shaking against his, her legs tightening around his waist. He was fucking her harder now, his cock hammering in and out of her.

He could feel himself getting closer and closer, her body trembling around him, her pussy clenching around his cock, her nails digging into his top. He could feel himself losing control, his hips plunging hard into her over and over, his cock driving inside of her; the way she started to tighten around his cock made his balls tighten.

He could hear her moaning, her breath gasping as she took his cock, her body shaking against his as he fucked her. Her body was trembling with pleasure; she was close to coming; he could feel it in the way her body tensed up against his. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open as she panted through the pleasure.

Homelander was intent on fucking her through the metal wall of the elevator with how hard his hips were snapping. His cock was buried inside her body. He was fucking her like a man possessed like he couldn't get enough of her. His lips brushed against her ear, his teeth scraping against her earlobe as he fucked her.

"Come for me," he whispered, his cock slamming in and out of her body. "Come for me, baby." Her body tensed up, her pussy clenching around his cock, her nails digging, ripping through the spandex. Her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm, her breath coming out in ragged gasps.

He didn't stop, his hips still moving hard into hers as she came. He wanted to feel her clenching around his cock, wanted to feel her come all over his cock. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his own pleasure building in his balls. He would come any second now; he could feel it but didn't want to.

He wanted to feel her cum again.

Homelander redoubled his movements and fucked her harder, his hips colliding into hers, his cock filling her body, his balls slapping against her ass. His lips found hers, kissing her, his tongue filling her mouth, his hand holding her neck as he fucked her.

"Come for me again," he whispered, his voice breathless, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.

Starlight's body tensed up, her pussy clenching around his cock. Her body shuddered with the force of her orgasm, her breath coming out in irregular gasps. He felt how tight she clenched around his cock. He was so close to coming, his balls aching.

Homelander's pleasure building in his balls, his body tensing up, his hips slamming into hers. He came deep inside of her, his cock spurting rope after rope of cum inside her body. His hips slammed into hers one last time before he pulled out, his cock slipping from her body. Her legs shook as they released her, holding herself up against the wall of the elevator.

Homelander's breathing was ragged and uneven, his body heaving with exertion. His eyes were dark and dangerous as he looked at Starlight, his hands still gripping her hips, keeping her pinned against the wall. "That was..." he stated, thick with awe. "That was... something."

Starlight shook all over; gasping for breath, her chest heaved. She was haggard, her eyes half-closed, and her hair a disheveled mass of sweat and curls. "Yeah," she croaked, still a little hoarse from all her moaning. "Yeah, it was…"

Homelander let her slip to the floor, her legs spread out akimbo style, and his gaze wandered over her body, taking in the sight of her, completely spent and exhausted. "Well..." he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You weren't lying…"

Homelander grabbed his gloves from across the elevator in the railing and released the emergency stop; he glanced over her bare body.

Starlight's eyes popped open as she heard the emergency stop release. Lost in the moment, she had forgotten all about where they were. She grasped for her super suit, trying to hide the fact that she was naked, but Homelander caught her eyes before she could blush.

Homelander scanned her body, his eyes flickering up and down her nude frame, once more, "You should cover up..."

[lilacwants]

casual.

18+ notes: this song tugs at my heart like no other... i love chappell so much :'( summary: you said, "baby, no attachment" but we're knee-deep in the passenger seat, and you're eating me out, is it casual now? warnings: a little angsty, mature/explicit content, homelander being homelander. word count: 1.6k

You’d always known that getting involved with Homelander was a dangerous game. From the very first moment you laid eyes on him, his charm had been undeniable, but so was the sense of danger that accompanied every smile, every touch. The problem was, that you couldn’t resist the pull. He was intoxicating, a deadly cocktail of power and allure that you couldn't escape from, no matter how hard you tried.

It all started casually enough, or at least that’s what you told yourself. A chance meeting at a charity gala, a few drinks, some flirtatious banter. But the connection was immediate and intense. Homelander— John, as he insisted you call him in private — had a way of making you feel like the centre of the universe, his blue eyes piercing through to your soul.

“Sweetheart, no attachment,” he’d whispered in your ear one night after a particularly passionate encounter. “This is just…casual.”

You’d nodded, even as your heart sank a little. You’d agreed to his terms because, let’s face it, who wouldn’t want even a piece of Homelander’s attention? But as the weeks passed, the lines between casual and something more started to blur.

One night, after a particularly late Vought meeting, he’d picked you up, taking you for a drive in his sleek black SUV. The city lights blurred past as you sat in the passenger seat, his hand resting on your thigh. The tension between you was palpable, the kind that made your skin tingle and your breath hitch.

“John, this isn’t exactly what I’d call casual,” you murmured, his fingers tracing patterns on your thigh.

He glanced over at you, a smirk playing on his lips. “Why? Because you’re in my car?”

“No,” you replied, leaning closer. “Because you’re taking me out in public, letting people see us together. Doesn’t seem very ‘no attachment’ to me.”

He pulled over to the side of the road, turning off the engine. The sudden silence was almost deafening. He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “You're overthinking this, sweetheart,” he whispered before pulling you into a deep, bruising kiss.

The next thing you knew, you were knee-deep in the passenger seat, your dress hiked up around your waist, and John was eating you out with a fervour that made your head spin. His hands gripped your thighs, his tongue working it’s magic, but all you could think was, is it casual now?

A few weeks later, you found yourself being introduced to his close friends from Vought, a move that surprised you. They welcomed you with open arms, treating you like part of the group. As you sipped champagne and laughed at their stories, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a fling.

One evening, after a particularly long day, John showed up at your door with takeout and a bottle of wine. He looked exhausted, but his eyes lit up when he saw you. You spent the night on the couch, eating, drinking, and talking about everything and nothing.

“John, this doesn’t feel casual,” you said softly, your head resting on his shoulder.

He sighed, wrapping an arm around you. “Why does it have to be anything more than what it is?”

“Because I need to know where I stand,” you replied, looking up at him. “I need to know if I’m just another distraction for you or if this means something.”

He was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “Sweetheart, I told you from the beginning that I don’t do attachments.”

“I know,” you said, your voice trembling. “But this doesn’t feel like no attachment to me.”

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. “Let’s just enjoy what we have,” he murmured. “No labels, no expectations.”

You wanted to argue, but the warmth of his embrace and the softness of his words melted your resolve. For now, you would take what you could get, even if it meant pretending this was enough.

Over the next few months, your relationship continued to evolve in ways you never expected. John was still adamant about keeping things casual, but his actions spoke louder than his words. He introduced you to more of his colleagues, took you on romantic getaways and even started leaving some of his things at your apartment.

It was hard being casual when your favourite bra lived in his dresser. You really, really tried to be the chill girlfriend, the one who held her tongue and gave him space. But to be honest, you weren’t and you didn’t even want to be one. Doubts were eating at your chest and you always felt a pang of hurt when he reminded you things between the two of you were simply casual. Nothing more.

You tried to ignore the nagging thoughts that crept into your mind during quiet moments. You tried to be satisfied with what you had, even as you found yourself wanting more. Every time he kissed you, a part of you couldn’t help but feel the anger simmering beneath the surface. He said it was casual, so why did it feel so much deeper?

“I’m just a girl that you bang on your couch, aren't I?” you blurted out one night, unable to keep it in any longer. “I thought you thought of me better. I thought I meant something to you.”

He looked at you, taken aback by your sudden outburst. “Sweetheart, what are you talking about?”

“You said, ‘We’re not together,’” you continued, tears streaming down your face. “So now when we kiss, i jut feel so bitter. I don’t want to be just another fling to you, John. I want to mean something.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly. “I never meant to hurt you,” he whispered. “I care about you, more than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time.”

“Then why can’t you just admit that this is more than casual?” you demanded, pulling back to look at him. “Why can’t you admit that you love me?”

“Because I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice breaking. “I’m scared of losing you, of getting too close and having it all fall apart.”

You took a deep breath, wiping away your tears. “I’m scared too, John. But we can’t keep pretending that this is nothing. We can’t keep lying to ourselves.”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and hope. “You’re right. I don’t want to lose you, sweetheart. I don’t want to lose what we have.”

“Then let’s stop pretending,” you said softly. “Let’s stop hiding and start being honest with each other.”

From that moment on, everything changed. John was still the same intense, powerful man you’d fallen for, but there was a new softness to him, a willingness to open up and let you in. He started spending more time at your apartment, making it clear that he considered it home. You began to make plans for the future, talking about where you wanted to live, and the things you wanted to do together.

One warm evening, as you walked along the pier hand in hand, he stopped and turned to you, a serious look in his eyes. “Sweetheart, I want you to know something.”

“What is it?” you asked, your heart racing.

“I’m in love with you,” he said simply. “I know I haven’t said it before, but it’s true. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone.”

Tears filled your eyes as you smiled up at him. “I love you too, John. So much.”

He pulled you into his arms, kissing you deeply as the sun set behind you. At that moment, everything felt perfect. For the first time, you allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, this could work.

As the months turned into years, your relationship continued to grow stronger. You moved into his luxurious penthouse, now filled with love and laughter. John was still the same hero the world adored, but to you, he was just John—the man who held your heart.

But as you settled into your new life together, there were moments of doubt. Homelander’s public persona often clashed with the man you knew in private. There were times when his temper flared, when his need for control threatened to overshadow everything else. You had arguments, some more intense than others, but each time, he would come back, apologizing, promising to do better.

One particularly bad night, he came home late, his face a mask of anger and frustration. “Sweetheart, why can’t you just understand that I’m trying?”

You stood your ground, your eyes glossy. “John, I do understand. But you can’t keep shutting me out whenever things get tough.”

“I’m not shutting you out,” he snapped, his eyes blazing.

“Then what do you call this?” you demanded, gesturing to the space between you. “We’re supposed to be in this together.”

He looked at you, his expression softening. “I know. I’m sorry. I just… I don’t know how to do this.”

You took a deep breath, stepping closer. “We’ll figure it out. Together.”

He nodded, pulling you into his arms. “I love you. I don’t ever want to lose you.”

“And you won’t,” you whispered, holding him tightly. “We’ll get through this. I promise.”

The road ahead wasn’t easy, but you faced it together. With time, you learned to navigate the complexities of your relationship, finding a balance between the man he was and the hero the world needed. You built a life filled with love, trust, and understanding, knowing that no matter what challenges came your way, you would face them side by side.

In the end, love was anything but casual. It was messy, complicated, and beautiful. And as you looked into his eyes, you knew that no matter what, this man held your heart in the palm of his hand. You will always love him, as Homelander or as John. You just can't help it.

[dianesdiaries]

scorched earth| Homelander x Y/N

Synopsis/AU;Homelander becomes a madman after Vought decides they have the better facilities of taking care of Ryan, realizing the pain and abandonment he went through Ryan would believe his dad left him to face. In a fitted rage, he destroys the Vought building one by one, taking a life every minute it takes to return his boy. Y/N is assigned to the special forces team responsible for 'cleaning up his mess', and ensuring that nobody gets hurt. By the time special units have reached the building, Homeland's already taken a liking to toppling down dominoes.

TW: lots of violence in this one! I didn't really know what to write but I thought it would be a cool idea to see homelander go cray cray again lol

NOTE: this is short but I feel like would make a rlly good part 2 lmk!

I searched the premises top to bottom, looking for any signs of imperfections left behind in his massacre. God knows what he had in store for the rest of the world, and not one person has a single clue what could've led to this trajectory. I watched as bright stars peaked in the sky, cameras and vans swarming the building like bees to a nest. My gun slinged along my arm as I slowly watched the stars get closer, and closer..

It was bodies.

The sound of bones mushing into pavement made my stomach hurl. But when it rains, it pours. Dozens of civilians began falling from the sky, bouncing off the concrete in sync to the sounds of blood curling screams arising amongst viewers. I know, I was assigned to special forces for a reason. But he's lost his damn mind.

"All units, Move in! NOW! RIGHT FUCKING NOW! I SEE ONE MORE BODY DROPS ITS GONNA BE YOU!" The chief demanded, his coffee splattered across his long tattered coat in a fuel of rage. Hoisting into gear, I took one last look at the pain behind me. News vans scampered back and forth across the roads looking for a way out, avoiding the bloody trouble Homelander had flung into their direction. But something was wrong. I began to sweat, and it didn't stop. Drops of water began covering into my helmet vision, tactical gear cooking my body as the temperature increased. Metal scraping against brick made my ears squeal, quickly retreating into the building for safety. Red lasers danced across the city scape, quickly sawing whatever came into its way.

The building couldn't be any more worst than outside. Scarlet red painted the walls like an artists' touch, the main floor wiped of human life. I was assigned no other job but to simply talk to him, my guys in route watching closely as we made our way to the elevator. Quickly, I swiped my feet at the feeling of someone's touch, backing away in terror. There lay A-Train, who once was the world's fastest man quickly turned to nothing but broken bones. He crawled gently towards my ankle, pleading with his eyes as he winced in pain. "Send a paramedic team in, now. He's still got time" I demanded, the group of SWAT enforced men looked at me puzzled. "You're going up there, alone?..." one brave suit asked, I couldn't see his face but his tone ensured everyone was equally as terrified. I could see right through the supes facade, Homelander didn't scare me not one bit. I nodded my head in approval, the boys quickly sweeping to A-Train's rescue as they steadily carried the poor runner out of the building. I stared at the hopeless elevator entrance ding open, inhaling deeply as the doors closed behind me. Soft elevator music hummed in my ear, steadying my heart beat to a soft thump. I had to be prepared for the worst of it all, he could cut me into two pieces by the time the door opened and nobody would know until it was too late.

39,40...41.....42..........42.....

The elevator came to a holt, its bright led numbers flickering as the music came to a stop. My feet jolted below me, holding steadily to the railing as I waited in silence. He knew I was here. He knew someone was coming. My heart roared through my chest as I struggled to catch my breath, what the fuck was I thinking taking this job?

distress fled into my body, watching the doors pry open to the grip of ruby-red gloves. I fled to the ground, covering my head with my heads, watching the door opening wider. And wider. His cold distilled blue eyes emerged from the peak, analyzing me through the small crack. Homelander demanded, "Take off the helmet and let me see your face", watching my hands unravel from fetal position as my breath quivered. Slowly emerging from my helmet, I took the might of speaking up. "Homelander, I know your stressed... I'm not sure what happened, but.. we can work through this-". In the blink of an eye, the metal doors tore as gracefully as paper, falling into the ever abyss of the metropolitan below. My pupils constricted at the sight of him, his face was dim in expression and yet said so many things. His once "all American dream" blue suit covered in the blood of his coworker's, his hair a frilled mess, mania scampered in his eyes to the sound of his laughs. The dazed man grabbed my neck in a grip, and pulled me towards the gravel of the roof. I could feel my heart drop into my stomach, watching him edge closer and closer to the end of the building. "Homelander, wait.. Homelander please d-don't do this! Listen, okay? I'm Y/N, now you know me. Just tell me what happened, I'll listen!", pleading for my life as my gear scraped across the floor. The crazed supe held my head against the edge, a thousand feet of death kissing my eyes in return.

"They took my son. Away from me. My son is gone. you're going to tell me where he is. Or you can go say hi to your friends for me" he said, my hands pushed in denial as I screamed at the force of his body swinging me back and forth. "Where is Ryan! Goddamnit-where is he!" Homelander roared, his eyes holding threat in a bright neon red, I could feel my life draining from me in the moment. I had to think quick. I could keep my job, and do as I'm told. Or, I could save my life. I could do what I was good at. What Butcher taught me best. Rationalizing.

"Listen- look, okay? I can help you find Ryan, but you got to let me go! Without me, not a single fucking person at Vought would tell you his whereabouts. Besides, what they did to you.. Could be happening to him as we speak. Y-You want that?", my words could be playing with fire. But I had to give it a shot. Homelander laughed in mockery of my bravery, hastily letting go of me as he clapped and laughed in rejoice. The man's madness made me sick to my core. I could feel fresh acid forming like a lump in my throat, but I had to keep composure. I couldn't show I was scared. He would kill me without hesitation. He paced back and forth in thought of my offer, hands on his hips as I tried to catch my breath and pushed up against a corner of the roof. The screams from below echoed like the gates of hell, I could tell it was riling him up. "I have an idea, but.. We need to do it my way. You understand? No diverting, no nothing" I exclaimed, he looked across at me as blood dripped off his icy blonde tips stained a muck brown. "We leave. Now. Before they find out you were responsible for this, we can pinpoint it on another supe and you get Ryan back. Homelander- if this gets on the news...", I carefully stared back into his cold gaze, gulping at the words stuck in my throat. "You might not ever see Ryan again if Vought finds out you did this" I said.

The supe almost took that as a challenge, raising his eyebrow at my comment. "Really? And what makes you think I'll listen to you?" he chuckled, approaching slowly as I backed my heels into the ground. He towered carelessly over me, crouching low to meet my gaze. The smell of death reeked off his clothes, his teeth blinked brighter than the sky filled with mourning souls. Without thinking, the man lifted me carefully and began to back away from the building, I could feel our bodies lift off the ground and up towards the clouds. It calmed me, to know that I was able to do something perfectly for once. The one moment that could've possibly ruined my entire life, I saved myself. But I couldn't save the others

"Before we go.. You want to see something cool? I've been meaning to do this for a while" he chuckled, stopping in position as we levitated above the downtown metropolitan. The feeling of course hot beams almost burned through my suit, as I watched the Vought building explode into an array of flames. The building's base was untouched, Homelander squealed in laughter watching people rush onto the streets like ants. "They had what was fucking coming for them. And they knew it. Nobody to blame but themselves, right Y/N? I mean, you have to agree. We're friends now. And you!-You Are going to get me my boy back", his head shook vigorously as if he agreed with his own sentence, looking at me for the approval of his message. I understood that he was setting me up, but two can play that game. "We need to see Butcher. Now. He'll know what to do" I explained, my eyes refused to watch the city below. I had nowhere to look but right into his eyes. And I prayed that he could feel the hatred feeling through my body. Effortlessly, the dazed supe began to track throughout the clouds, elevating so the bare naked eye could barely see us through the cotton-field of clouds.

[amazingmaeve]

INFATUATION (1/?)

homelander x fem!reader

summary — homelander meets Ashley’s sister and he’s already feeling infatuated with you and he just can’t help it, even though ashely is fucking annoying he can’t help but think you were the exact opposite.

warnings — homelander is himself a warning, stalking, toxic behavior from homelander, breastfeeding, kinda angst and fluff

word count — 2174

authors note — this is my third homelander fic and the other two are on my AO3 account and this one will be as well. also tried and different writing perspective.

homelander masterlist | the boys masterlist

YOU took a deep breath looking at the huge Vought tower, looking down you saw your daughter in the stroller and it calmed you down a bit. Eleanor was the light of your life and yeah that might be a little bit of a cliche but it was true.

Her father ditched ever since he figured out you were pregnant and all you had was yourself to help fend for you and for Eleanor. He was a douchebag anyway only cared for himself and his own life, not caring what happened to you or Eleanor but you were doing okay on your own.

I mean yeah paying for all the stuff for a baby was hard but at least you didn’t need to pay for formula since you breastfeed, but you just move for a job that would hopefully work out. Luckily it was close to your sister, Ashley. You’ve been in contact but never visited since you didn’t have the funds to do so, but now you could see her all you.

Ashley was your number one supporter when you got pregnant and she was even there when you gave birth and loved Eleanor. She was also the last defining factor of moving here in the first place, you could have a job that paid decently and see your sister.

You knew she worked for some of the most popular supes in the world and that’s why you were kind of nervous to step in the building. They were superheroes though, they’re not dangerous. At least Ashely hadn’t told you anything that would imply that and she even invited you to come to her work.

So how could this go wrong.

It was just worrying, that’s something you’ve done since you were a small child and even took some anxiety medication to help.

Walking into the big building with your stroller, you would’ve thought people might’ve been ogling at you but it seemed like everyone was into their own conversations or just minding their own damn business. That was at least nice, at least.

But it was intimidating standing in the lobby of this building where the seven stayed. The supes were nowhere to be seen at least and you hoped Ashely would get down here soon because it was getting awkward. You texted her when you first arrived which was about 5 minutes ago and you were starting to worry.

Luckily Eleanor hadn’t sensed your discomfort.

“Y/N you made it,” Ashely says with a smile as she walks up to you, wearing her usual bright pantsuits.

“I was worrying you forgot about me,” You said with a smile as you hugged her. She gave you a tight squeeze before looking down and smiling at Eleanor.

“How’ve you been,” Ashely asked as the two of you walked towards the elevators. You didn’t know where you were going but it was probably to her office or some more private place so you could talk.

“It’s been hard taking care of a newborn baby but I’ve been pushing through it,” You told her vaguely not wanting to worry her. You’ve been only getting 3-4 hours asleep on a good night, but it was the normal life of a single parent, or a parent in general. “Eleanor is totally worth it though, she is the cutest thing,” You cooed at your baby as she gurgled in her stroller.

“She is, and I’m glad you brought her here because I’ve been wanting to babysit and since you’re closer it's so much easier to do,” Ashley says with a smile.

“I just don’t want to intrude on your life, you have a job that you need to do and having a baby will only make it harder,” You expressed as you picked at the skin around your finger nails.

Bad habits die hard.

“It wouldn’t be a burden trust me, I’ve been wanting to see my niece since she was born and I insist,” Ashley promised.

“Okay only if you’re okay with it,” You muttered as the elevator doors finally opened and you walked behind her, to her office which seemed totally cool to you.

“I can’t believe you got your own office that is totally badass, and it totally suits you,” You complimented as she closed the door behind her and leaned on her desk and gave you a coy smile.

“It does feel good to have an office but this job is kinda grating,” Ashley murmured looking down at the floor.

“That is totally understandable though, I mean you’re brushing shoulders with the seven, the most famous superheroes, who wouldn’t be stressed,” You reassured her sitting on the couch and placed the stroller next to you so you could keep your eye on Eleanor.

“At least somebody understands,” Ashley says, giving you a smile. Something dings on her phone which she then pulls out of her pocket and her eyes widen. You look at her worried as you move the stroller back and forth. “I’m sorry I have to go,” She rushed out.

“Wait what am I supposed to do here,” You quickly ask as your heart races against your chest.

“Don’t worry I won’t be long, just stay here playing the tv, I’ll be back as soon as possible,” Ashley says before leaving the room and slamming the door behind her.

Unfortunately for you that woke Eleanor and she started to cry as you jumped at the door slamming. You stood up and grabbed her and started to bounce her in your arms trying to calm her down.

“It’s okay,” You cooed as she continued to cry and scream in your arms and it seemed as though the bouncing didn’t help your stressed baby.

As you were about to check her diaper in case it needed to be changed, you felt something wet on your chest and you immediately knew what it was. You hadn’t breastfed Ellie since early this morning and your breasts were full, when Ellie started to cry it usually happened. Instead of checking her diaper, you would try to check and see if she’s hungry first, and since you’re already ready for it, might as well take advantage of it.

Sitting down on the couch, you lifted your blouse up and since you decided not to wear a bra that day it was a little more easy but it ruined your shirt and hopefully you could get Ashely to find one.

Settling Ellie in your arms right near your primed nipple she immediately latched, and since your breasts were full it felt like relief as she began to drink from you. You supported her head as you leaned against the comfy couch, she squeezed the fat of your breast as she suckled the milk out.

It would normally hurt due to her pinching but since you were in a relaxed state you didn’t really mind. As she began to relax, you began to as well.

You looked at your baby as your chest was filled with so much love, that you would have never felt for anyone else. You probably wouldn’t feel this amount of love for anything or anyone else that enters your life again.

And you were perfectly fine with that.

“Ashley I’ve been fucking looking for you every-,” Homelander cursed as entered the room with an angered expression on his face but it turned into a confused one when he saw you.

God this was the most embarrassing moment that would ever happen to you, you knew you shouldn’t be ashamed of breastfeeding but this was America’s most beloved supe and when he looked angry as well.

Homelander averted his eyes so they weren’t trained on you. He was angry when he was looking for Ashley and expected to find her in her office but who the fuck were you and he didn’t want those old thoughts to come back. But he couldn’t help it as he saw the scene unfold before him.

“I’m sorry Homelander-sir I was ju-,” You began to say as you stood up and turned around so he didn’t seem as uncomfortable. It was obvious due to his stature stiffening as he entered the room and you didn’t want to do that. As you were speaking though you were cut off by him.

“Who the fuck are you,” Homelander snapped as he looked at you as you turned around. Ellie was still at your nipple, and you didn’t want to remove her from it as she seemed very hungry so you did what you thought was best.

“I’m Y/N Ashley s-sister,” You muttered and stuttered as you stared at the wall and began to force your body to relax so it would freak out Ellie.

Homelanders gazed at you even more confused. He didn’t know Ashley had a sister or even a niece for that matter. But he couldn’t deny that you were pretty, beautiful even and he didn’t know if that was due to your actual look or what you were doing.

Ellie decided that she was full as she removed her mouth off of your nipple and you used one hand to pull your shirt down, so you could turn around to face Homelander.

“Like I said I’m sorry about that, I was here to see my sister and she rushed out and Ellie started crying and when she does that, this happens,” You say looking down at your shirt. “And I thought I was alone and-and she was really hungry and I’m just sorry,” You quickly said your apologies, god this day couldn’t get any worse could it.

“No worries,” Homelander waved it off and put on his smile. “It’s natural right,” He nodded and pointed to the baby.

You visibly relaxed as he said that. He wasn’t angry with you, it would’ve been horrible if America's strongest supe was angry at you for a normal bodily function. But he did seem kinda uncomfortable you would say, his smile didn’t reach his eyes but it was better than his eyes being red.

Meanwhile Homelander felt his mind swarm with thoughts about you already and he just met you. He was about to say something but Ashely walked in the room with a shocked expression on her face.

“Sir I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” Ashely breathed in deep as she had a somewhat scared expression on her face as she looked between Homelander and you. She was lucky that Homelander didn’t melt your face off as he saw you there and she let out a sigh of relief.

Homelander gave you a wary look and you took that note as you put Ellie in her stroller.

“Don’t worry Ashley we can meet up later,” You gave her a reassured smile. “Nice meeting you,” You gave Homelander a quick smile as you exited the room and felt your body relax that you were out of that awkward encounter.

Although Homelander had already set his eyes on you.

Later that night Homelander found out where you live through the tech department as he could get any one of those people to give him anything.

All day he had been thinking of you, his thoughts were all surrounding you and he tried to shake it off as attraction, which was definitely a part of it but he knew a part of it was due to your milk filled breast. He couldn’t help wanting to find you and just watch you.

As he stood on the building across from your tiny apartment, he used his x-ray vision to see what you were doing. It seemed like you didn’t have an exciting night but what he saw was certainly exciting. You were using a breast pump to get the milk out for the baby. The TV was playing but he didn’t pay attention as his cock throbbed his pants.

You looked pretty tired though, must be due to that baby and you were already dozing off catching yourself multiple times. His thoughts trailed off as he wondered what it would feel like to be doted on by you. If you would praise him and let him get a taste of what he actually wanted.

Homelander knew he was becoming infatuated with and some part inside of him was perfectly fine with that. He would find a way to see you again, even if he had to scare it out of Ashley or find out where you worked and “accidentally” bumped into you. It didn’t matter what he had to do, and what lengths he would reach to get to you.

He just couldn’t wait to see you again and wondered if you’d bring the baby, he hoped not but if so that would be totally fine as long as he got to see you.

Taking a deep breath as watched you and his body was filled with arousal and he knew you were already a part of his life for better or for worse. Probably a better for him and unfortunately worse for you.

[lovelyladyabsinthewrites]

All I Ever Wanted, All I Ever Needed

Pairing: Homelander x Supe!Reader

Warnings: siblingxsibling implications, Homelander being such a narcissist that he falls in "love" with his own sibling, Homelander being a stalker, innocent reader, naive reader, Homelander being a basic menace, first time writing for this fandom, also experimenting a new writing style

Words: 5688

Summary: Along with the existence of Ryan, there was another secret being kept from Homelander that he manages to rip out of Vogelbaum's throat: he has a sister.

Part 2 Part 3

The house was quaint, way too fucking perfect in Homelander's opinion. Just like all the other mansions on the block. When he went back to Vogelbaum to find out the REAL truth about Becca, he'd forced Jonah to tell him anymore lies that were being kept from him. He hadn't anticipated there being a second secret: Homlander has a sister. Rare to be caught speechless, he leaves Vogelbaum's massive mansion. What else was Vought hiding from him? Not just Vought, but Madelyn as well. She'd lied to Homelander before. Now he'd take things into his own control.

From the slip of information Vogelbaum wheezed out , Homelander remembers the address. Stares at the numbers in front of the house that matches what Johan said. Architecture reeks of wealth. He didn't have to peek into the large bay windows to know that each corner dripped with elegance as was appropriate for a big time Vought executive. You were granted an entirely different life than what Homelander suffered from. Raised with loving parents who encouraged you to cultivate your powers in a positive way. Dinner was a sit down affair where everyone discussed highlights of the day. An authentic family unit. After discovering the truth of both you and Becca, he raided the archives for more information about her. Birth records, school reports, personal notes of progress from the adopted parents. Doted on. If only he had knowledge of you sooner. Homelander missed out on having a genuine bond to someone. A person he could truly call his own.

Superhuman eyes detect multiple people in the house. No worries. Once he presents himself, they won't deny him anything. Unless they want to end up like Stillwell and many others.

Insurmountable confidence has his gloved hand wrapping knuckles against the wood of the front door. He clasps his hands behind his back and waits. Scattering voices whisper amongst the other before feet lumber down several steps of stairs. A moment passes before the locks on the doors click open to reveal the stereotypcial dowdy housemaid. What a cliche.

Her eyes damn near pop out of her head, her mouth pulling into an ecstatic smile. Good, didn't look like there'd be much resistance. He didn't even get a chance to open his mouth before the maid pulls him in. "Oh she'll be SO delighted to see you Homlander! Please- wait here while I get her!" She frantically calls up the stairs, using the name he knew belonged to you, his sister. A sudden pang of warmth pleasantly grips him at the knowledge that you were already a fan of him. Maybe even admired Homelander. That makes him stand a bit taller.

At the top of the stairs, there you stood. You didn't believe in Diane when she told you the Homelander was at the front door. Even as you stare at him with your own striking cornflower blue eyes, your mind melts and you still don't believe what you see before you; that he's there in the flesh until his grin broadens. A brush stroke of awestruck sweeps across his expression.

Homelander found you absolutely perfect. And the smile that broke out on your own face took his breath away. An authentic smile of his own graces his facial muscles. You were a vision before him. Utter helplessness renders speech useless as he simply stares right into you. There must be a blush on your face, how could there not be one when he's staring so intently at you. He was bigger and better in real life. A wider range of emotions more available on his face opposed to the mask you saw him wear sometimes on screen. Stiff and uncomfortable. This one was even more appealing. His smile made his blue eyes crinkle with delight.

"Wow." You breathe out and feel Diane eagerly bounce behind you. "It's really you!" As fast as your mouth could go, you introduce yourself and Diane despite Homelander already knowing your name, birthdate and social security number. Whatever information he could get on you. Not even in his imagination could he truly conjure you up though.

Bringing him to the drawing room with a small tug on his gloved hands, you beam at him and say that your mom would be so excited to meet him. The light of your face makes his heart melt, something he long believed he didn't possess.

Seated already on a cream colored couch was your mom. She drops her cup and saucer, letting it shatter against the ground. Eyes incredulously wide but not with enthusiasm like you assume they'd be. Your grin drops a bit when you realize she's scared. Of what? Certainly not Homelander. Couldn't be. She'd been perfectly fine when you passed by the sitting room a few moments before heading upstairs.

Immediately the maid scrambles to clean up the mess, chirping apologies as she gathers the pieces up in her apron before scuttling away to dispose of the broken porcelain pieces.

"Homelander," your mom's voice came out as a squeak. "What a surprise to see you." She blinks out of nervousness.

"Thought I would treat Vought's wonderful executive crew with a surprise visit!" Businessman smile activated, Homelander goes on with some well rehearsed corporate bull crap spiel about how Vought appreciated all of their wonderful workers. He could practically lap at the fear emanating from your mom as she sat tightlipped against frilly decorative throw pillows. That could only mean she was in on the secret too and knew who you really were. Most importantly why he was there. She must have known that when he eventually found out, he would come.

Your mom's smile is frigid as her hand is clamped down on your forearm. "What an honor, thank you Homelander." You could tell she wanted him gone. With your own incredible olfactory receptors, you could smell her sweat too.

Hands behind his back in his usual resting stance, Homelander admits "I do have another reason for coming here too." Boots squeak as he takes just one simple step closer that has your mom's nails digging into you. It didn't hurt you but from her white knuckles she was definitely using all her strength. "A little bird told me you're special, like me."

Admittedly you beam with pride when he spoke of you being special like him. When your powers start to grow you were thrilled to find out that you had the exact powers that Homelander, the greatest superhero in the world!

Coyly and not wanting to come off as arrogant, you flutter your gaze down to your lap. "Well, I'm still nowhere near your league." Just to show off a little, you make your eyes sizzle red with heat vision that Homelander also possessed. His smile widens at your display of superability.

"How would you like to train at Vought with the Seven? You'll have the best of the best as your teachers."

He'd said it so easily you didn't take him seriously the first time. Blinking at him until it dawned on you. "R-Really?"

"Honey, this is all very sudden. Lets wait for your father to come home." She attempts to placate you but now all you can think about is the possibility of training alongside the rest of the Seven. Immediately you want to remind her that you were an adult and could take up this offer with or without your father's permission.

You don't have to because Homelander smoothly lies to her face. "Oh, no need to worry about that. Your husband already gave the go ahead!"

Her brows scrunch in a disbelieving frown. "He did?" She couldn't out right accuse the Homelander of lying.

"Of course! He was ecstatic at the opportunity his little girl would have." His tone is syrupy sweet. He couldn't show how annoyed he was with your mom. If he had informed the patriarch of your family, he doubts the man would have objected. Not to Homelander at least. They could go crying to Stand Edger for all he cared. Vought's CEO was just as powerless in stopping him once he has his mind set on something. Try as they might. Madelyn Stillwell came close to being able to manipulate him, but he'd melted her face off days prior so there was no use in Edger wielding her as a weapon.

Now you're the one clawing at your mom's arm. "Did you hear that! He said I could go! I gotta pack!" Hopping to your feet, in the blink of an eye you're dashing out of the living room and up the stairs before your mom could stutter out another word. It was just her and Homelander now with the occasional house help peeking into the living room to catch a glimpse of the glorious leader of the Seven. Visibly she swallows thickly, her eyes stare at Homelander with unrelenting fear.

"What? Did you really expect me not to find out?" Cheery smile not leaving his face, his voice reveals the sneer that he so wished to deliver to her. As it was he was keeping his voice down in case you had superhearing like he did.

The rims of her eyes glisten with unshed tears. She had to be the same age Madelyn was before he killed her. "I-I thought we had more time. Please don't take her. Please. You can come see her as much as you want. You have that right as her b-brother. But please- leave her with us." Practically gasping as she keeps her panic in control. Lines around her lips tremble. Homelander takes in her pathetic form.

"Tell me, do you love her?"

That makes her tears roll freely down her face. "I do. We do. She's a good girl. S-She wants to be a superhero, wants to protect people and use her powers for good. Please don't take her!"

Homelander snaps. "Quit your fucking blubbering."

Her mouth instantly zips shut, knowing what he did to Stillwell. Her husband had warned her early on about the real Homelander. He wasn't the perfect hero that the media painted him as. Even if you were upstairs, he wouldn't hesitate to come back and kill her. He's paused for a moment, listening to the pitter patter of your feet above. Happy that you were still busy and not paying attention to what was going on downstairs.

False saccharine face goes back up. "There's no reason for tears. You've done your job. Said so yourself that she's a good girl. She's a young adult though and doesn't need her mommy and daddy poking around in her business. Not to mention the big secret you and your husband are keeping from her."

Leaning over her, he sinisterly utters under his breath "She's coming with me. Now put a smile on your face and fucking wipe your goddamn eyes. You look disgusting. She's coming down the stairs."

Easily toting a giant backpack and two overstuffed duffle bags, you stride back into the living room. To Homelander's surprise, another duffle bag was floating behind you. Apparently you had telekinesis too. Your smile is so big that it was starting to hurt your face. This was the chance of a lifetime. You'd been getting bored stuck at home as of late.

Eagerly clenching the straps of your two duffle bags in your hands, you beam expectantly at your mom. "Sorry about dad not being here to see me off, but I'll see him around at Vought!" You go in to hug your stunned mom and promise to call her when you arrive at the tower.

Homelander is tickled pink by your enthusiasm and haul your bags out to the front porch. "Can you fly?"

You grin deviously and give your mom one last wave goodbye. Homelander takes the duffles out of your hands even though you were fully capable of carrying possibly even more luggage. What a gentleman. Something guys your age weren't.

He takes off first into the sky with you following, hot on his tail.

Never had you experienced this level of elation. You have someone to fly with! The feeling was the same for Homelander. He'd boost his speed and you caught up with him in seconds. Laughing the entire time. It makes him giddy and laughs along with you.

Twin flames.

Finally, Homelander was getting what he's wanted since he was a young boy.

You were a streak of gold as you zoom past him cheekily. For a moment he forgets that you're his sister. He's overwhelmed by the sudden warming in his chest that bleeds to his face as he watches you zip in the open air with your arms wide open to embrace the wind itself. To him you were beautiful in every single way. A perfect specimen. An outright desirous scream in his head confounds him. He didn't have a regular up bringing, but Homelander knew that this was not a common reaction to have with blood kin.

Expertly he tucks that thought away. He'd examine it later. Right now, he needed to focus on catching up with you.

He had to take the lead anyway since he was the only one who could find Vought Tower so high up in the sky and miles away. Below you, the city looks like a toy replica by how small it was as you follow Homelander's lead in the sky. You'd never seen anything quite like it. Where you'd lived was a quiet suburb. You didn't go to a public or private school but taught at home by the best instructors your parents could buy. They tend to keep you away from big cities, claiming your buddening powers as a liability if something bad were to happen. When they brought up things like that, it made you scared to even try using them. But watching Homelander's Vought produced movies gave you the courage to start playing with your abilities and push your limits; even if it meant that you subsequently knocked down the large tree in your backyard and landing it on the side of the house. That was the first time your dad had ever yelled at you.

From seeing it on the news many times, you notice the tall, silver column as Vought Tower. Homelander slows down as you had been too busy with sight seeing, but he didn't mind. He thought you were adorable, basically a little kid at Voughtland. So easily excited about everything new. That just reaffirms his suspicion that your parents had locked you up in an oppressive cage. Just like Becca did with Ryan. Really, Homelander was doing you a favor by setting you free and into his secure and guiding hands.

Both of you easily land on the roof of the tower, a door at the ready for them to enter the structure itself. You gaze out from the roof, enjoying the noise of the city and the pure energy that buzzed through it. That morning seemed so long ago. A basic start to your day, just like any other morning for the boring, safe life your parents smothered you with.

Your excitement makes your features glow, even blinding Homelander who couldn't keep his eyes off of you. You were utterly intriguing to him. An entirely different species. Both of you were so much alike yet due to your upbringing near solar opposites at the same time. Finally when you turn away from observing gaze and look to Homelander, he opens the door for you. In more ways than one. He takes you from the rooftop and into the thrum of the tower. You can't help staring at everything you walk by. All the while he goes on to promise you a room as soon as he could find-

"Ashley! There you are!" He calls out to a jumpy red head who looks both relieved and incredibly stressed out once she spots you next to him. Her lips smack against one another, flailing for useful words, her eyes round and staring at you. "We need to get a room set up for our new friend here." Homelander introduces you and you hold out a hand for Ashley to shake. Fumbling with her tablet, a sweaty hand weakly reaches out for a fast shake.

"Nice to meet you. Homelander, can I have a word with you?" Ashley hesitantly asks, forcing a fake smile and much like your mom had Ashley reeked of fear.

Homelander quickly catches your dampening smile and puts a hand on your shoulder to steer you past her. "Not now, Ashley. I have to show her around the rest of the tower. Especially the Seven's very own conference room." That brings the enthusiasm back onto your lips. While he can still hear Ashley's frantic voice trying to get him to come back he could care less. Besides, you didn't appear too affected by bumping into her, the prospect of seeing the Seven's personal conference room had you instantly forgetting the nervous red head.

A large window that spans from wall to wall has the perfect picture of the metropolis skyline in its massive frame. This felt like a perspective only the elite were privlidged enough to gaze from.

Focal point of the room though was the massive circular table, meticulously crafted with dark marble and metal. A symbol of the Seven's authority. It gleams liquid night. At the head of the table was one lone chair, away from the others. Homelander's chair. This is where he got to work every day with the greatest superheroes the country has to offer.

Watching you glide to his chair, Homelander smirks to himself. You catch it when you glance up at him with brilliant moon eyes. The brightness from the world outside casts a brilliant light around you. "I can't believe I'm in Homelander's seat!"

He chuckles and slowly trails over to you. His gloved fingers trail along the tops of the other chairs in a near gentle caress. "It suits you."

You avert your gaze from those fingers, suddenly feeling a flush crawl up your neck. "Is this really happening?" You incredulously peer at him. Your own hands glide along the table's surface. "This morning I was eating breakfast in our dining room, now I'm here with the greatest hero of all time." Brows scrunch together. Besides having powers, your life had been mundane. You'd never even been to Vought Tower where your dad had worked for a good thirty years. Things like this don't happen in a span of four hours. Insane. And it was all thanks to Homelander who saw potential in you.

"You'll get used to it. It's a lot at first." He acknowledged. Homelander wonders if Ashely has procured a room for you yet and has half the mind to call her until the conference room doors open. You throw yourself out of his chair, afraid how it would be perceived by his colleagues. Gasping when you find out it's Starlight and Queen Maeve. They appeared to be in a deep conversation. But once they register you and Homelander, whatever they'd been discussing becomes secondary. How could it not when you had similar characteristics with the man standing next to you. You weren't anyone they've met before. Nor were you a sponsoring celebrity or executive. So what were you doing there all of places?

"Impeccable timing!" He merely claps his hands together. "The two most perfect heroes to welcome you to the Tower." Starlight can't resist lookng at you with concern, wondering if you were in distress despite the smile plastered on your face. When there's no obvious sign of you being uncomfortable, Starlight strains to conjure the semblance of an easy going smile. Homelander told them that you were their new hero-in-training. Neither Queen Maeve or Starlight have ever heard of this position, it hadn't existed but once it leaves their leader's mouth, it might as well have been law. Maeve knew to tread carefully with her words.

Her own mask was honed after years of dealing with his psychopathy and Maeve dawned it on herself with ease. "Wonderful news." She turns to you, statuesque and beautiful. "Welcome. If Homelander speaks so highly of you, then I'm sure you'll find your footing around here."

"I'm excited to learn from both of you and I'll make sure not to get in the way." You promise which cracks a sympathetic smile from Starlight. From your appearance, Starlight deduces that you had to be a year or two younger than her and understood how it felt to abruptly be thrust into the life of the Seven.

Homelander clears his throat and offers you his arm. "Lets go see if Ashley's got that room ready for you. I'm sure you want to settle down."

Before leaving, Homelander sends both women a pointed glare over his shoulder as the doors close behind his red, white and blue cape.

Stunned, Starlight turns to Maeve knowing nothing good would come of this new installment of Vought. Neither had seen nor heard of you. You seemed relatively innocent and ignorant of the danger you were in so close to Homelander.

Maeve shrugs, indifference cloaking how she really felt. "Not our problem."

Starlight's eyes round in disbelief. "Sounds like its going to be a problem sooner or later. Something's up. He doesn't just show interest in random strangers. Even if they're supes too."

Chewing on the inside of her mouth, Maeve is aware of the terrible possibility that this could all end badly for you. Having Homelander's attention did more harm than good. If they wanted any chance of intervening, they'd have to be extremely careful. Homelander may be an egotistical man, but he wasn't a dumb man. He'd catch on immediately if either Starlight or Maeve slip in their investigation toward who you are.

"All we can do is keep an eye out for her and guide her." Maeve murmurs, worried that Homelander may still be listening. Such was the paranoia that she'd developed from all the years they worked together. It was upsetting that her relationship with HOmelander outlasts any other, even Elena. They'd known one another for years. The manner that Homelander hovered around you though was disconcerting. If intervention were needed, there was no way Homelander would let anyone near you.

Starlight grits down on her back molars as she moves around Maeve and out of the conference room. But she couldn't just keep an eye on you. Her feet take her to Ashley's office although her brain was reminding her that the VP of Hero Management would most likely not be there.

After finally hounding down Ashley, you're shown your new room in Vought with a promise from Homelander that you could redecorate it all if you like. All the while it's impossible to ignore the heavy smell of fear from her.

Homelander couldn't pretend not to notice either as his mouth, still holding onto a smile, becomes tight with force. "Thank you Ashley, that will be all."

For not being a supe, she gave A-Train a run for his money as Ashley booked it out of there in the blink of an eye.

"I'll make sure everything else is taken care of and given to you as soon as possible. For now though, relax. I'll put together a team dinner tonight so you can meet everyone else." The face he'd had with Ashley was washed away now replaced with genuine plesantaness.

You examine what was more than a simple room, this was a penthouse apartment. Bigger than the room you had back home with actual marble columns that stand proudly from floor to ceiling. A similar expansive window like that of the conference room greets the city outside with a glittery afternoon effect. Gold and amber filter the sky. Lost in the gleam of it all, you float around; eyes big in wonder. You lived in luxury before, but now your surroundings were damn near extravagant. This was an entire level up from your usual lifestyle.

Barely managing to breathe out an 'okay', you hear the front door open then close.

Still reeling, you place your backpack along with your other luggage at the foyer and let yourself wander. The call to your mom could wait. This moment was for you. You felt seen.

You would be a hero like Homelander. Maybe never as great as him, but some day you could achieve his caliber. This was really happening.

Homelander never imagined his day would have turned into something like this either. His miles hasn't left since leaving your room as he strolls through the halls to make sure your paperwork was properly handled. He felt like he was flying his entire way to the elevators yet his feet were firmly planted on the ground. There were so many things he wanted to do with you. So much he wanted to talk about.

But. . .

He couldn't let you know about the tie you had to him. More than you sharing powers. Blood connected the both of you. The only person (besides Ryan) who could boast that. It was something sacred to him. Of course nothing could remain pure when it came to Homelander. Because you were his sister that meant you were just as perfect as he was. Even more so since you had the added skill of telekinesis. The only person alive truly worthy of being with him. Thinking about his future had butterflies flapping their paper thin wings along the inside of his stomach. To take you the way he desired, Homelander had to make sure no one knew of your biological relationship. Public opinion would demonize him were the fact to get out. Initially he thought of keeping you locked up, but that was an unlikely scenario which would lead to you fighting against him. He wants you to be pliant and willing. That required trust to be developed along with Homelander worming his way into your brain and heart.

Hopefully the look he shot Starlight and Maeve on his way out was enough to prevent either of them in snooping around for information about you. This was his business that they should not meddle in. Particularly Starlight's intentions bothered him. She was a snake in the grass, proven it by aligning herself with Hughie and the rest of the Boys. He saw her being a problem in the future. That concerned look she'd had when her eyes fell upon you spelled trouble brewing.

The pep in his step dwindles thinking of it, jaw tightening. If Starlight found out you were siblings, it would put a wrench in the plans he was formulating. His long desired family unit was within reach. He could practically hear Ryan's laughter, see you chasing after the young boy as if he were your very own. How pretty you would look in summer clothes, waiting for Homelander to come home. The life of his dreams. The life Vought fabricated for his backstory could so easily become reality. He'd just been missing two important pieces. They were essential to this new life Homelander wished for.

There were no qualms over the idea of killing Starlight. Problems would be for Vought trying to cover it up. Not to mention the situation that would inevitably arise with Billy Butcher, especially now that he knew his wife was alive and raising the supe's son. Another encounter with him lay in wait. A headache he wasn't looking forward to dealing with. He just wanted to focus on you and Ryan.

Arriving at the gold plated elevator doors, he presses down on the button that would take him to floor 82, Mr. Edgar's floor. That was Mr. Edgar's kingdom which he ruled with an iron fist and ruthless attitude. When the two doors slide open, Ashley jumps back clearly startled by yet again running into him.

"I-I trust the room is to her liking?" Ashley's mouth twitches and morphs into what she must have thought passed off as a smile.

He stalks into the elevator forcing Ashley to seek refuge in the further most corner. Darkling tutting, Homelander waits for the doors to close before addressing the vice president who was charged with dealing with these self entitled heroes. "You're going to have to try a lot harder at pretending you're not scared. You stink of fear and if I can smell it, so could she."

Paling, her head rapidly nods in complete understanding all the while trying to relax her facial muscles into neutrality as well as taking a few deep breaths. If she didn't fix herself immediately. . . it brought back memories of Blindspot.

For a few seconds he watches her, specifically listening to her erratic heartbeat. At least she listened and didn't need to be told twice. Through her own sheer will, Ashley manages to calm herself enough to lower her pulse, not the easiest thing when her number one stressor was stuck in an elevator with her.

She reaches a hand up to her red hair and anxiously curls a lock of it around her finger instead, her only outlet that she'd be allowed.

"Good. You'll be coming with me to see Mr. Edgar." Homelander turns his blue eyes back up to the lit up floor numbers that were beginning to descend. With his attention away from her, Ashley stealthily rips out a few strands of her hair. The pain was soothing, aiding in faking her calm.

The air was suffocating with just the two of them. She thinks back to the phone call she'd received an hour before you and Homelander had arrived at the Tower. Stan Edgar personally warned her of what Homelander was doing. That he'd discovered not only a son but a sister too. Edgar, in the most polite way possible, instructed her not to get involved and just do whatever he told her to do. And absolutely no asking questions about you. Homelander was already pissed about so much being kept from him, best not to antagonize him further. Keeping him happy was top priority.

Unaware of the shit show that was unraveling, worker bees greet them with a smile once they arrive on the 82nd floor. A few even wave at Ashley.

Stan Edgar saw them coming the moment they stepped out of the elevator. Already he was on his feet and moving around his desk to greet them as his office door is opened. Homelander's hand poised at the back of Ashley's neck, he nudges her inside. Homelander motions for both of them to sit down as if it were his own office. His gaze doesn't waver, staring down an equally defiant Edgar. A normal human but he never squirmed in front of Homelander's penetrating stare. He'd commend the older man for his bravery. If only Ashley would take notes. She needed a better poker face if she's to make it in Vought Industries.

"You know why I'm here."

"Your sister and Ryan." Verifies Edgar. He'd prefer to stand but inch by inch sank himself down onto the cushion of his desk chair.

"Now, while Ryan may be under Becca's care, my sister is an adult and wishes to stay here. Train to be an elite hero. Like me. However," neither like the way he breathed out that single word "no one can know that we're related. People will scream nepotism and claim she's getting special treatment."

His reasoning was plausible but. . .

From a promotional point of view, a sibling duo would be a hit like the TNT Twins. The public would eat it up and show even more support for Vought in the polls.

"Oh, and her parents need to sign one of those NDA things. Can't have them flapping their mouth either." Tacking on as an after thought. You'd forget them soon enough. He'd just have to keep them away from you for the time being. They hovered over her too much for his liking. From the corner of his eye, he caught a quiver in Ashley's mask.

About to reprimand her, Edgar clears his throat and leans forward to allow his elbows to rest on the desk's surface." I understand. It will be done. But you do realize how difficult it would be to keep it under wraps considering the outstanding similarities. The powers, your eyes. People will start to ask questions."

"Let them ask away. As long as Vought says she's not my sister, then she's not my sister."

Why was he so intent on covering this one particular fact? Nepotism surely could explain it. Homelander's insistence of it concerns Edgar and Ashley who felt like he was planning something more nefarious for you. He was capable of any horrendous acts they could conjure. They were just as helpless when it came to him. Unable to defy his orders unless they desired him to burn holes into their faces as he did to Madelyn.

All of his whims taken care of, Homelander leaves them to start working on the welcome dinner with you and the rest of the Seven. He wants to show you off. He'd make sure you never wanted to leave him. Ensure that you continue to see him as all powerful and benevolent. The looks of admiration you'd shot him went straight to his head as well as other regions that were out of his control. Clear that you idolized America's favorite hero. Your parents raised you to believe that Vought was a company that cared about helping the public and that their heroes were there to protect and serve the general masses. No doubt in your mind that they were the good guys and the stuff on the media was simply baseless slander. What child would want to discover that their daddy was actually a bad guy working for the power hungry company and that supes were not in fact a gift from god. They were manmade. That knowledge would ruin your world.

Homelander would not allow that. You were his to protect now. His to blind and deafen to the world around them.

[cevans-is-classic]

Okay I need more like selfish boy. As an ace I'm not sure why but I adore seeing the few fics where homelander gets intensely horny/passionate for reader but she's just like "No. Calm down." Like she's got basically the world's most popular men who could get so many women and he propositioning HER and she's just like "nuh uh. Don't wanna" 💀💀

But fr I need more like this😫😩😩

Whenever I write Homelander (and I'm actually writing something to go with Selfish boy), I love the idea of him being controlled.

He's the greatest hero, yet he's curled up in your lap and whining for you. Anything he does, what he says, what he wants it all goes through you.

He's your baby boy.

Ugh, I definitely have a very specific idea of who my version of Homelander is, and that bastard is a horny, grumpy little bastard that needs a time out.

So basically

I got you, babe.

[out-with-the-boys]

The Dance- Fic for 'The Boys' Master Post

Ongoing fic. Appx words to date (November 18th, 2024): 86k. 18+

Homelander x Supe OC

Canon divergent around the beginning of season 2. Enemies to lovers, then back to enemies again. Slow burn. Eventual smut. Specific content warnings for each chapter will be applied in notes prior to the text to help avoid spoilers.

Summary:

Hand-picked by Stan Edgar, Morgan Daly's new role as the latest member of The Seven is anything but glamorous. Behind the scenes, she’s been tasked with a dangerous mission: keep the world’s most powerful superhero, Homelander, in line. Her telepathic abilities make her a valuable asset, but navigating the ruthless game within Vought’s elite team could cost her more than she bargained for. As tensions rise and the line between ally and enemy blurs, Morgan must decide whether she’ll play by Vought’s rules—or risk everything to outmaneuver a man who could destroy her without a second thought.

AO3 Link | Fic Playlist | Ship Playlist

Tumblr Chapter Directory

Chapter 01- Tightrope Chapter 02- Control Chapter 03- Take a Bow Chapter 04- Shot Me Down Chapter 05- Smile Chapter 06- Under Pressure Chapter 07- Losing My Religion Chapter 08- Not About Angels Chapter 09- Everybody Knows Chapter 10- I'm Not the One Chapter 11- You're Somebody Else Chapter 12- I Gave You All Chapter 13- Samson Chapter 14- Night of the Dancing Flame Chapter 15- Falling Chapter 16- Hollow Crown Chapter 17- Landslide Chapter 18- All the Good Girls Go to Hell Chapter 19- They Weren't There Chapter 20- The Dance Chapter 21- Once Upon Another Time Chapter 22- Give It Up Chapter 23- Meant to be Yours Chapter 24- I Found Chapter 25- Where is Your God Now? Chapter 26- Without the Lights Chapter 27- Little Talks Chapter 28- Falling Apart Chapter 29- Holding Out for a Hero (WIP)

[ishomieokay]

And We Made You Pairs (Ch. 3)

──── a homelander x arab oc story.

✰ summary - Homelander’s mission in Syria puts him in direct conflict with Noura, an activist working to protect her country from foreign interference. Although their initial encounters are fraught with tension, over time they develop a begrudging respect for one another. Homelander is drawn to Noura’s fearlessness and conviction, while she catches glimpses of humanity in him.

When Noura’s town faces annihilation, Homelander must make a choice. Will he remain the military’s loyal wardog, or will he do something good for once in his life? ao3.

✰ warnings - terrorism, kamikaze missions, radicalization, incitement to commit suicide (typical homie behavior, lmao).

✰ taglist - @discowizard88, @possiblyafangirl, @sacha1slytherin, @infinetlyforgotten, @redroserabbit, @1800imgay Let me know if you want to be tagged!

It was a rainy morning. The basement was cloaked in shadows, a handful of candles casting a faint glow over the small, crowded space. The walls were damp, lined with crude paintings depicting martyrs and ancient battles— bloody chapters of the Quran. Amir sat cross-legged on the floor among a group of young men, each face tense and alert, all eyes locked on Hassan El Ghany as he spoke.

Hassan’s voice had a magnetic quality, the measured, confident vigor of a seasoned leader. He leaned against a table covered in maps and journals, his face barely visible under the sparse light. He was old, almost frail looking, and yet his presence dominated the room. A former soldier turned rebel, Hassan was a hero to many. He wore the scars of countless battles, visible and invisible, and when he spoke, it was as though the walls themselves leaned closer to listen. 

“For a year now,” Hassan was saying, his voice low but sharp, “they’ve sat in their palaces, the so-called leaders of this country, shaking hands with the same men who brought destruction to our homes.” He paused, allowing the disgust in his tone to settle, for his words to take root in the minds of the young men before him. “They call it diplomacy,” he sneered. “I call it betrayal. Reopening the American embassy? After all they’ve done to us?”

Amir shifted, feeling the bite of Hassan’s words open a festering wound. He thought of his sister, Noura, sitting in the kitchen of their small apartment after another sleepless night, the strain of endless worries pulling at her. Nineveh’s destruction had marked them, had marked him, but he was haunted even more by the knowledge that they might never feel safe again. Now, El Ghany offered him a chance to fight that fear with something stronger.

Hassan’s gaze drifted over the men in the room, resting on Amir with a knowing look. “You all have a duty,” he continued. “To make sure they remember that this land is not theirs to trade away. It’s ours .” His voice softened, then, as if to incite a frightened, hungry animal to eat out of his hand. “Each of you is a hero waiting for your moment. When that time comes, you’ll know what to do.”

Amir’s pulse quickened as Hassan’s words wrapped around him, filling the cracks left behind by carnage and war. He felt the weight of his own anger shift, like a stone moved just enough to allow something else through—a need for retaliation. He leaned forward slightly, his eyes focused on Hassan, as if to catch every last syllable of his lethal promise.

“Amir.” Hassan’s voice broke into his thoughts, as if beckoning him closer. Amir swallowed, suddenly self-conscious under the steady gaze of the other young men. “I see courage in you. An orphan without a home, forsaken by our leaders, by those who swore to protect us. You’ve already endured what most could never imagine,” Hassan said solemnly. “And only for that, you have more to fight for than your brothers.”

Hassan reached down beside the table and picked up a vest, its weight and purpose unmistakable. He extended it to Amir, who accepted it with trembling hands. The fabric was rough and heavy in his grip, and he could feel the chilling reality of its purpose sinking in.

“This vest,” Hassan murmured, his voice low but clear, “is your path to freedom. Wear it with pride. You’ll be a martyr—your name remembered long after we’re gone.” He placed a small remote in Amir’s hand, his fingers curling Amir’s around it, as if asking him to not let go. “With this, you hold their fear. You hold the power to make them feel the same terror we feel every day.”

Amir trembled, the weight of the vest pressing against him, the remote cold and unfamiliar in his palm. He tried to steel himself, to calm the wild beat of his heart. He had to do this. For Noura, for his town, for the hope that someone could make those monsters pay.

He heard himself say, “I’m ready,” though he hardly recognized his own voice.

Hassan’s eyes softened, and he nodded approvingly, a small, prideful smile forming at the edge of his mouth.

Noura paced the length of her small apartment, her phone clutched tightly in her hand. The sun was sinking low, casting an amber glow across the room. Each ring on the line felt like a countdown, her worry increasing with every second Amir didn’t answer.

Fatima watched from the couch, her brow creased with concern. “Noura,” she said gently, but Noura barely glanced in her direction. “Maybe Amir’s just blowing off steam. You know how he can be when he’s restless. Boys his age, they—”

“No.” Noura shook her head, her gaze darting back to her phone screen. “He wouldn’t just disappear like this. He hasn’t been himself for weeks now. Distant, secretive… It’s not like him, Fatima.”

Fatima bit her lip, reaching out as if she could somehow steady Noura from the whirlwind of emotions tugging her down. “Maybe he’s just trying to make sense of it all. The attack, the protests—everything’s been so chaotic this past year. For all of us.”

Noura’s voice dropped to a whisper, almost as if she were speaking to herself. “He’s angry, Fatima. Hurt in a way I can’t heal. And I’m scared of where that anger might take him.” Her thoughts strayed back to the days following the attack on Nineveh, the loss that had changed them both so drastically. She had seen the haunted look in Amir’s eyes, the impotent fury. She hadn’t known how deeply it had sunk into him until recently. Now, it seemed to manifest all the time, in increasingly wild and unpredictable ways.

Fatima sighed, seeming unsure of what to say. “Amir’s strong. And he has you.”

“But he’s young,” Noura said, her voice rising as she shoved her phone into her pocket. “And bitter. Bitter enough to do something stupid if the wrong person is whispering in his ear.”

“The wrong person?” Fatima blinked, taken by surprise. “And… who would that be?”

Noura shook her head, unsure what had prompted her to say that. There was a name at the tip of her tongue. Amir spoke of him often, with an admiration that bordered on reverence. She didn't like it. To her, it felt as haram as worshiping at the altar of a pagan God.  

Hassan El Ghany—she’d heard his name before, whispered in the hushed corners of meetings or late-night discussions among activists. A former soldier, now rebel leader, Hassan promised liberation and revenge, and she feared he knew exactly what to say to lure in someone like Amir. A twenty something young man, not college educated, without a job, desperate to feel like he could still make a difference.

Noura stormed toward Amir’s room, her heart pounding. Maybe he’d left something behind—a clue, anything that could lead her to him. The room was in disarray, his bed unmade, clothes strewn across the floor. She sifted through his things, careful not to disturb too much, hoping he would return and find everything as he left it. Her fingers brushed over a crumpled piece of paper near his pillow, and her breath caught.

The note was hastily scrawled, as if written in a rush. “For Syria’s future,” it read, “sacrifices must be made.”

Noura paled as she held the note. Her mind raced, piecing together the warnings she had ignored, the changes in Amir’s behavior. A wave of terror washed over her. She shoved the note into her pocket, already reaching for her keys.

“Where are you going?” Fatima asked, standing quickly.

“I have to find him,” Noura said, her voice unsteady. “If I’m right… he could be about to do something terrible. Something irreversible.”

Fatima’s hand gripped her arm. “Noura, you can’t just go looking for him alone. At this hour? It’s dangerous!”

“Amir is out there,” Noura said, not a hint of doubt in her voice. “He’s my brother. If he’s mixed up in something… I can’t just sit here.”

Fatima let go, her gaze softening. “Then I’m coming with you.”

“No,” Noura said firmly. “If it’s what I think it is, I don’t want you caught up on it. I’ll just ask around, see if anyone knows where he might have gone.”

Without another word, Noura left, plunging into the crowded streets. The fading sun cast Damascus in hues of deepening blue and gray, the city alive with lights and vendors. She moved quickly, head held high, her gaze sharp as she scanned the faces in the crowd, searching for someone who might have seen Amir.

She stopped by the nearest café where Amir had once spent time with his friends. The small shop was bustling with regulars enjoying the end of their day. She approached the owner, her voice urgent as she asked about her brother’s whereabouts. The man shook his head. She moved on to the local market, stopping passersby, but again no luck. Her desperation took over, and she found herself speaking another name, asking for someone else.

Noura watched as people exchanged glances, reluctant to speak about Hassan El Ghany out loud. The name was a curse to some, a beacon to others. She pressed on, asking in hushed tones, “Do you know where I can find Hassan’s men?” A young vendor sent a wary glance her way.

“I wouldn’t go looking for them, sister,” she murmured, looking over her shoulder. “They were seen today downtown, near the marketplace. Be careful, though. They don’t take kindly to questions.”

With a nod of thanks, Noura left, her steps quickening as she made her way down the street.

General Thompson’s voice echoed through the briefing room as he paced in front of the digital map, his heavy boots striking the ground in precise intervals. The image of Damascus flickered, showing red markers in the city center, the outlines of buildings, and a few isolated streets. Thompson leaned in, pointing with a gloved hand toward one particular sector of the map.

“We’ve intercepted intel on an imminent attack. A bombing planned in the heart of Damascus. Target’s likely to be high-density civilian areas—markets, transportation hubs. ” he began. “Now, as you all know, we have no legal jurisdiction in this city. But if a good samaritan, someone who was technically not military personnel, were to intervene and stop this tragedy from happening… I think that would gain us a lot of points with the new administration. Al-Assad is finally gone. It's time to get his successors in our pockets.”

He sent a meaningful glance in Homelander’s direction. He stared back, unsurprised. It was not the first time they played this card. He nodded in agreement, arms folded across his chest. 

Fatigue was weighing down on him tonight. Three years of deployment had finally taken their toll. When he’d first arrived in Syria, he’d felt unstoppable—a true American hero in a foreign land, flexing power in a place where he had nothing to lose. Now, that energy had dulled, and only a hollow sense of duty remained.

Thompson tapped the map again, and the image shifted to display a low-resolution photograph of a young man, his gaze steely, lips pressed into a thin line. The surveillance photo had been captured through night-vision, and the light cast a ghostly green tint over his face. Homelander’s eyes narrowed.

“Amir Al-Sayed,” Thompson announced, his tone businesslike. “According to our mole, this young man has been recruited by Hassan El Ghany’s network. He’s carrying a vest—wired and ready to detonate.”

A sliver of recognition slid through Homelander’s mind. Al-Sayed. He’d seen his face before, here and there on social media. In the posts Noura Al-Sayed made ralling locals and sympathizers to stand against foreign military presence. 

“This one’s non-negotiable,” Thompson continued, his voice steely. “You know what’s at stake. We need results, not hesitation.”

Homelander held his gaze steady as he nodded, glancing once more at the grainy image on the screen. Amir’s face looked both fearful and determined, the kind of look that only came from those young enough—or desperate enough—to believe in martyrdom. He’d seen it before, countless times over, in every target he’d been assigned.

“We’re expecting this to happen tonight, in the busiest part of town. You’ll intercept before he can reach his objective. This is a cut-and-dry op,” Thompson said, his tone leaving no room for interpretation. “Neutralize him.”

Homelander remained silent, but as the lights flickered back on, Thompson’s expression softened slightly. “I know you’ve been here a long time, soldier,” he said, as if in half-hearted consolation. “But we need you to stick to this. You’re the only one who can get close enough, fast enough. We can’t afford failure.”

Failure. The word hung in the air, a reminder of everything Homelander was never allowed to be. He nodded curtly and rose to his feet, waiting for Thompson’s dismissive wave before he left the briefing room, heading down the long, empty corridors of the US embassy. Outside, dusk had settled over the city, casting a dim, orange light through the high windows.

As he walked, the image of Amir’s face lingered in his mind. The younger Al-Sayed shared some resemblance to his sister, though his expression was harder, sharpened by anger. He thought of Noura’s impassioned speeches, the way she ignited her followers with righteous fury. 

Now, that fire had spread to her brother, consuming him with the same need to fight back, even if it meant self-destruction. Homelander remembered the first time he saw her—standing defiantly at that press conference, words like knives, unafraid. She had faced him without flinching, without giving him an ounce of respect. And in return, she had paid for it in ways she likely hadn’t even realized yet.

He reached the door to his quarters and paused, his reflection in the glass catching his eye. The fatigue was visible now, the sharpness he once carried dulling. But he forced it down, smothering that glimpse of weariness. He was the Homelander—untouchable, superior. These people and their struggles, their little rebellions, meant nothing to him. Except...

Noura Al-Sayed. 

Her brother.  Her blood. 

He’d seen so many faces these last three years—lives he’d erased without a second thought. They blurred together, a mosaic of forgotten souls. It felt different now. Personal. He’d seen this face in fragments, woven into the story Al-Sayed had crafted online, in the glimpses of her family, of her life before the destruction.

Her brother’s death would devastate her. A part of Homelander felt contentment, even vindication. He relished the thought of seeing her crumble, drunk on this new power he held over her. It would break her spirit, silence that voice that had dared to defy him in public. Perhaps it would even be a kind of poetic justice.

The night had draped Damascus in shadow, but the narrow, winding alleys were still alive with murmurs and movement. Noura’s heart pounded as she clutched her phone, her fingers tight and sweaty against the cool glass. Once again, the call went to voice mail.

She wove her way through the crowd, desperation sharpening her gaze as she scanned each face, searched each corner. She stopped to ask a street vendor, a weathered man hunched over his cart, but he only shook his head, glancing at her with a trace of sympathy. “Haven’t seen him, dear,” he muttered before turning back to his wares.

Everywhere she went, it was the same—shrugs, half-hearted glances, apologetic words. None of it brought her closer to Amir. Panic twisted inside her as she moved, her brother’s name hovering on her lips, though she was too afraid to shout it aloud. She could feel the weight of the note she had found in his room, the single, haunting phrase lingering in her mind: for Syria’s future, sacrifices must be made.

He was out there somewhere, convinced that he was doing something heroic, something meaningful, when all she could see was the looming shadow of tragedy.

“Noura!” Her phone buzzed, Fatima’s voice crackling through the speaker as she caught her breath in an alley, hand pressed against the rough stone wall. “Noura, listen—I've heard something.”

“Fatima, please tell me you know where Amir is.” Noura’s voice was desperate, her words tumbling over each other.

There was a pause on the other end, followed by a shaky exhale. “I don’t, not exactly, but there’s a rumor going around. Hassan’s group… they’re planning something big tonight. The word is, it’s happening at the market square. Not far from where you are.”

Noura’s throat tightened. The market square. It was a hub, crowded even at this hour, where vendors and locals mingled, an easy target for anyone wanting to make a deadly statement.

“Do you think…,” Noura whispered, swallowing hard, “do you think Amir could be there?”

“Noura, please,” Fatima’s voice was thick with worry, the urgency prickling through the line. “Don’t go looking for him. You have no idea what you might be running into.”

Noura had already turned, though, her feet carrying her toward the market square. She didn’t have time for fear—not now, not when her brother might be moments away from making an irreversible mistake. Her breaths came fast as she navigated the tight streets, the city blurring past her in shadows and fractured light.

Her mind raced with fragmented images, snatches of memory: Amir’s quiet, resolute face, the arguments they’d had since he’d started idolizing men like El Ghany, his words taut with anger and frustration. He had been slipping further and further away, and she’d tried to reach him, tried to keep him grounded. But what if it hadn’t been enough?

Her hand slipped over the phone in her pocket, and she dialed Amir again. This time, the line clicked, and his voice came through, faint but clear.

“Amir!” she gasped, relief and fear twisting together. “Amir, where are you?”

There was silence on the other end, the kind that stretched too long, too empty. “Noura,” he finally murmured, his voice raw, almost unrecognizable. “I… I’m doing something important. Something that matters.”

Noura choked back a cry. “Amir, please, whatever they’ve told you—whatever they’ve made you believe—this isn’t the answer. Lives will be lost. You’re putting yourself in danger. You’re putting us all in danger!”

He exhaled, a quiet, broken sound that seemed to ripple through her. “They’ve taken everything from us, Noura. You know that. This is the only way to take something back.”

She fought to keep her voice steady. “We can find another way. Together. Just tell me where you are, please.”

“I just…,” a long pause, “I just wanted you to know that I love you, and… I’m sorry.” The line went dead then, the words swallowed by silence.

Tears blurred Noura’s vision as she gripped the phone, her fingers trembling. She turned the last corner, and the square opened up before her, the hum of the crowd louder, pulsing with life. She scanned the faces, searching for Amir, for any sign of him among the bustling market stalls.

Nothing. Noura’s jaw clenched as she looked into the crowd, scanning each movement, each shifting shadow. She’d already lost so much.

She couldn’t lose Amir too.

The alley was quiet, a stark contrast to the bustling street nearby, swarmed with crowds. Amir stood in the corner, his hand clutched around the trigger mechanism strapped to his chest. His face was pale, set with the determination of someone who had already said his goodbyes.  

High above, Homelander watched, unnoticed, his silhouette merging with the darkened rooftops. He knew he could end this here and now, end it without anyone ever knowing there had been a threat. He thought of Al-Sayed, then, of her grief-stricken face once the news was delivered. The fire in her eyes finally dying down. A satisfied smile tugged at his mouth. It would be so easy, it almost felt like cheating.

He drifted down, landing silently a few feet behind his target. “So, this is it?” he drawled, crossing his arms. “This is what they told you to do, huh? Blow yourself up for some guy who probably won’t even remember your name?”

Amir spun around, eyes wide with shock. For a moment, he fumbled with the trigger, but before he could blink, Homelander’s hand shot out, snatching it effortlessly from his grip. He held it up, examining the device with detached curiosity. It looked cheap. Made of scraps. Clearly not American. For a moment, he simply stared, letting the man process the full weight of his helplessness.

“You think this makes you a hero?” Homelander tilted his head, his smile sharp and cutting. He reached forward and gripped Amir by the collar, lifting him with no more effort than one would a feather. “You want to die, and then what? Think they’ll sing songs about you? Make statues in your honor? Nah-ah, Kebab. That’s just for guys like me. No one gives two fucks about another Camel Jockey going kaboom.”

Amir’s lips parted, but no words came out. He seemed torn between fear and confusion. The bravado that had carried him here was quickly unraveling. He stared at Homelander, breathless, trembling, perhaps realizing for the first time how very alone he was. This was it. He had failed in his mission and his supposed allies would not come to save him. 

“Go on, then,” Homelander said, his tone mocking as he loosened his grip and allowed Amir’s feet to touch the ground. “Do it. Prove me wrong.”

Amir stood, still frozen, his eyes darting from the crowd in the distance to the towering figure in front of him. He didn’t move to pick up the trigger from where it dangled in Homelander’s hand, nor did he run. His mouth opened, words catching in his throat.

“What’s the matter?” Homelander smirked, amused by Amir’s paralysis. “I thought you were ready to be a hero.”

“You… you don’t understand,” Amir finally managed, his voice weak. “You’ve destroyed everything. My family, my town—my sister—”

Homelander raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching, as if hearing the punchline to a joke. “Oh, I understand plenty. Trust me. I just don’t think you do. Here’s a reality check: your death isn’t going to change a damn thing.” His voice lowered, laced with something between pity and disdain. “All you’re doing is giving us another excuse. Another headline, another reason to call you savages and justify tearing your country apart.”

Amir’s face twisted, disbelief battling with anger. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked, shaking his head.

“I dunno. I just think it’s fucking hilarious.” Homelander’s grin spread, wide and unsettling. “I mean, let’s say you go through with it. They’ll report it on the news— ‘Rebels threaten peace process with barbaric attack .’ You know what that means, don’t you? More guns, more bombs, more soldiers.” He tossed the trigger mechanism from one hand to the other, enjoying the way Amir’s eyes followed it. “In fact, if you die, you’re doing us a favor.”

“That’s not… that’s not true,” Amir whispered, but his voice was faltering, the resolve slipping through the cracks. 

Homelander chuckled. “You don’t believe me? Look around, kid. It's not our people you're gonna fucking massacre, it's yours. And, newsflash, we don't care. We’re here for power, for control. And you—” he jabbed a finger at Amir, making the man flinch—“you’re just another expendable pawn in the game.”

Amir stared back, a storm of emotions flickering in his eyes—fear, anger, shame. Homelander could see it all, the collapse of those lofty promises that Hassan guy had woven, and he savored it. He could feel his own sense of weariness melting into something else, something that almost felt like pleasure as he watched the hope drain from Amir’s face.

“Go on, prove me wrong,” Homelander taunted. “Blow yourself to pieces, just like they told you to. Or—” he smiled, voice dropping to a whisper, “you could live. Walk away. Show them you’re not some mindless weapon.”

Amir’s gaze dropped to the trigger dangling from Homelander’s fingers, and a visible tremor ran through him. He had no words, and when Homelander let the trigger fall to the ground, Amir didn’t reach for it. Homelander took a step back, folding his arms as he watched the boy’s internal battle rage on, the wavering resolve, the remnants of his fragile convictions crumbling.

“You think you’re gonna change anything by throwing your life away? That your death will make a difference, touch the hearts of millions? Wake the fuck up. The world doesn’t care. You’ll be gone, and it’ll keep spinning. Your sister—she’s fighting a lost battle. No lie there. But at least she’s fighting to live.”

Amir’s expression tightened at the mention of Noura, his fingers curling into fists. He didn’t move. He stood rooted in place, his eyes fixed on the ground, the weight of his decision bearing down on him. His gaze flickered to the trigger mechanism lying between them, glinting faintly under the dim alley light.

Homelander observed him, arms still folded, his expression unreadable. For a moment, he seemed almost patient, as if giving Amir the time to decide was just as important as the decision itself. There was something unsettling in the calmness of his gaze, a silent dare in the way he looked at Amir—like he knew which choice the man would make and didn’t care which way it went.

Silence stretched. Homelander’s mouth curved in a barely-there smile. “Well?” he asked, voice dangerously soft.

The market square bustled with life. Vendors called out, selling spices, sweets, and toys, their voices mingling with the chatter of families and children darting between stalls. 

In the shadows near an old fountain, Amir stood still, hidden in the fading light. His jacket was zipped up, but the weight beneath it was unmistakable. His lungs seemed to tighten with every passing second. He could feel the trigger pressed against his hand, slick with sweat. He looked out over the crowd, his heart pounding erratically. Faces blurred before him as he tried to steady his breathing, to silence his racing thoughts.

They have to know. 

Amir swallowed, a tremor running through his hand as he hesitated. He stared at the families moving about in blissful ignorance. Hassan’s words echoed in his mind, drowning out his fear with a strange numbness. 

They have to pay.

As he unzipped his jacket slowly, exposing the vest, the numbness wavered. A distant, haunted look clouded his eyes. He took a step forward anyway, his lips pressed tightly together. Panic rippled through the crowd as people caught sight of the explosives, gasps turning to shrieks. The square erupted into chaos as they scattered, pushing past one another in their haste to escape.

Then, he heard it—a voice cutting through the noise, through the panic, calling out his name.

“Amir!” Noura’s voice pierced the air as she fought against the tide of people fleeing the square. Her eyes locked on him, wide and filled with a terror. She pushed forward, her feet pounding against the stone, the sound drowned out by the screams around them.

“Don’t do this!” she yelled as she reached him, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “Amir, look at me!”

He turned, the fear etched across his face deepening as he met her gaze. For a moment, he couldn’t find the words. His mouth opened, but his voice was choked. “I have to, Noura,” he finally whispered, barely audible above the clamor. “They… they need to pay for everything. For what they did to us. To you.”

Tears spilled down Noura’s cheeks as she took his trembling hands, pulling them away from the button. “Amir, no. This won’t bring anyone back. It won’t change what happened to our home. You’ll just destroy yourself,” she pleaded, her voice breaking. “Please, come home with me. Just… come home. No one has to die.”

Her words cut through the haze clouding his mind. For a brief moment, he felt the weight of the trigger slacken in his grip. He looked down at his sister, the pain in her eyes pulling him back, grounding him in a way he hadn’t felt in so long. Doubt crept in. He began to loosen his hold, his fingers trembling as they slipped from the device.

A soft beep started, then—a ticking sound so faint it was nearly lost in the chaos.

“What… what’s happening?” Noura’s voice trembled, her eyes darting to the bomb as the ticking grew louder. Panic flared in her gaze. She looked back up at Amir, her hands clutching his with increasing urgency. “Amir, stop it! Turn it off!”

Amir’s face paled, realization dawning on him as he stared down at the device strapped to his chest. “I… I don’t know how,” he stammered. His fingers fumbled helplessly as he tried to silence the countdown. A sickening dread twisted in his stomach as he realized the truth. “They… they detonated it remotely. Noura, I can’t turn it off—”

“No,” she gasped, her hands flying to cover her mouth. “No, they wouldn’t...”

Amir forced himself to swallow his panic, his hand shooting out to push her back. “Noura, you have to go! Now!” He tried to pull away, his heart hammering as he looked into her tear-filled eyes. His voice choked. “I can’t—there’s no time. You have to leave, now!”

Noura didn’t move. Her hands tightened around his, as if holding on could somehow keep him safe. As if her mere presence could change what was inevitable. She shook her head, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m not leaving you, Amir.”

Just as she spoke, a shadow passed over them, cast long and dark across the ground. 

A sharp crackle split the air, a sudden burst of energy and movement descending like a lightning bolt. Noura felt the rush of wind an instant before he landed. Dust and pebbles scattered at his feet, the red, white, and blue of his suit a sharp, blinding presence against the dimness of the square.

Homelander.

Noura’s heart seized. She froze, her mind struggling to comprehend the sight before her. He stood just a few steps away, his figure too bright, too strong, like a character forced into the wrong scene. For a second, all the noise around her faded, the murmurs and cries of the crowd dimmed to silence. Time seemed to stop, everything narrowing down to the three of them—her, her brother, and this terrible force standing between them.

Homelander’s eyes flicked to Amir, then to her. She could see his gaze drop to the vest Amir wore, his brow furrowing slightly, as if calculating, assessing. Noura didn’t know whether to move forward or back. All her instincts screamed for her to run, but her feet were anchored to the ground.

Her eyes locked with his, and for a split second, there was something almost human in his expression—confusion, a question. What are you doing here? Then it was gone, his face shifting back into the detached, unreadable mask she had come to despise. 

“Step back,” he said, his voice a quiet, controlled force. It was a command, not a suggestion.

She opened her mouth to protest, but she found herself speechless, unable to form words. Amir, wide-eyed and trembling, seemed just as paralyzed. Before she could blink, Homelander reached forward, grabbing Amir by the collar with a hand as casual as if he were lifting a bag. Noura’s heart lurched, and her hand shot out, but her fingers barely brushed Amir’s arm as Homelander lifted him effortlessly into the air.

“What… what are you doing?” she whispered, her voice shaking, eyes locked onto her brother’s terrified face. “Please, stop!”

Homelander didn’t answer. His gaze was fixed on Amir, his expression cold. Noura reached out, as if to pull her brother back from the edge of something dark and final, but Homelander moved faster than she could even blink. In a flash of movement, he was gone.

He shot up into the sky with Amir, a streak of red and blue vanishing into the darkness above. The force of his departure sent a rush of wind through the square, scattering dust and debris, throwing Noura back. She stumbled, her eyes wide, her gaze fixed on the disappearing figures as they climbed higher and higher, shrinking into dots against the night.

“No!” she screamed, her voice swallowed by the wind. Her heart pounded in her ears. She stared up, waiting for a sign, for anything to bring her brother back.

The night held its breath.

Then, it happened—a brilliant, fiery burst of light exploded above her, illuminating the sky like a second sun. The shockwave rippled down, shaking the buildings, rattling windows, throwing Noura to the ground. The roar of the blast echoed, loud and terrible, reverberating through her bones. She watched, her heart seized in horror, as the fireball bloomed in the sky, its glow lingering against the darkness.

Noura’s throat closed, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the explosion faded into silence, leaving only a shimmering trail of smoke. She lay motionless, her mind blank, the reality settling in with a crushing weight. 

Her brother was gone.