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knoepfl · 3 months ago

Text

Maybe Less Than God

Characters:

1. Homelander

Antagonist/love interest. Volatile, powerful, deeply insecure.

2. The Reader (You)

Protagonist. Confident, nurturing, refuses to be intimidated or controlled.

Trigger Warnings

1. Emotional/psychological abuse

2. Threats of violence (laser vision, near-death moments)

3. Trauma and isolation

4. Power imbalance

5. Emotional manipulation

6. Mentions of death/harm

Masterlist

Words: 1580

---

The night air in Vought Tower felt heavy, oppressive, as though the weight of Homelander’s fury seeped into every corner of the penthouse. You stood at the entrance, unflinching, watching as he paced the room like a predator stalking prey. His cape billowed with each sharp turn, and his fists were clenched so tightly you swore you could hear the leather of his gloves straining.

“They think they can humiliate me,” he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. “Me. On live TV. That bitch had the nerve to talk back.” He stopped mid-step, his piercing blue eyes locking onto you like a laser. “And you—”

You raised an eyebrow, standing your ground. “What about me?”

His lips curled into a sneer, and he began to advance. “You just sit there, watching. You think you’re any different? You think I don’t see the doubt in your eyes when I talk about what I’m owed? You’re just like the rest of them.”

“Careful,” you said evenly, your tone sharp but calm. “You’re not angry at me, Homelander. Don’t make me the target for your tantrum.”

The room seemed to grow colder as his expression darkened. “Tantrum?” he repeated, his voice dripping with venom. “I could kill you in an instant, you know. Wipe that smug look off your face forever.”

You took a step forward, closing the distance between you. “Then why don’t you? What’s stopping you, Homelander? Go ahead—prove you’re the god you think you are.”

His eyes narrowed, and for a split second, you thought you might have gone too far. He raised his head slightly, his jaw tightening as his eyes began to glow with that familiar, ominous red light.

The heat hit your skin immediately, prickling and almost unbearable as the twin beams crackled just inches from your face. You didn’t flinch, didn’t move, even as the heat singed the edge of your hair.

“Do it,” you said, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. “Burn me alive. Destroy the one person in your life who doesn’t lie to you.”

His jaw twitched, the light in his eyes flickering as his rage collided with something else—confusion, maybe, or doubt.

“I’m not scared of you,” you continued, your tone soft but unyielding. “You want to lash out at the world because it’s easier than admitting you’re scared. But deep down, you know you don’t want to hurt me. You just don’t know how to handle someone who won’t cower before you.”

“Shut up,” he growled, the beams dimming slightly.

“You can’t control me, Homelander,” you pressed, taking another step closer. “But that’s why I’m here, isn’t it? Because you don’t want another puppet. You want someone who sees you. The real you.”

His breathing was ragged now, the glow in his eyes fading completely as he stared at you, his expression a mix of anger, confusion, and something almost like desperation.

“I don’t need anyone,” he said, but his voice lacked its usual conviction.

“Maybe not,” you replied, reaching up to gently touch his face. He flinched but didn’t pull away. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t want someone. Someone who cares about you, even when you’re like this.”

For a long moment, neither of you moved. His body was tense, his hands trembling at his sides as though still fighting the urge to lash out. But as your fingers brushed against his cheek, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly.

“You don’t know what it’s like,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “To be...me.”

“You’re right,” you said softly. “I don’t. But I know what it’s like to feel alone. To think no one understands you. And I know it doesn’t have to stay that way.”

He closed his eyes, exhaling shakily. When he opened them again, the anger was still there, but it was tempered by something gentler.

“I almost killed you,” he said, his tone flat but laced with an undercurrent of shame.

“But you didn’t,” you said simply. “Because I know you, Homelander. I know you’re more than your anger. You just don’t believe it yet.”

His gaze dropped to the floor, and for the first time, he looked...small. Vulnerable.

“Why do you stay?” he asked quietly, almost to himself.

You smiled faintly, stepping back just enough to give him space. “Because someone has to remind you that you’re human, even when you don’t want to be.”

Homelander stared at you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. Then, without a word, he turned away, heading to the couch and sinking onto it heavily.

You followed, sitting beside him but keeping a respectful distance. He didn’t speak again, but when you reached out and placed your hand on his, he didn’t pull away.

The silence stretched on, heavy but no longer hostile. You knew this wasn’t over—that his anger, his darkness, would rear its head again. But for now, you had defused the storm.

---

The silence in the penthouse stretched between you both, heavy but no longer suffocating. Homelander sat on the couch, his posture still stiff, his eyes unfocused as though he was replaying every moment of the confrontation in his mind. You stayed beside him, quiet but unwavering, your hand still resting lightly on his.

After a long pause, he exhaled sharply and leaned back, running a hand through his blonde hair. His movements were jerky, as though the tension in his body refused to fully release. Then, almost reluctantly, his eyes flicked to you.

“You should hate me,” he said, his voice quiet but bitter. “After what I just did.”

You met his gaze steadily. “I don’t hate you, Homelander.”

“Why not?” he demanded, the frustration creeping back into his tone. “Why don’t you? Everyone else does—behind their fake smiles and hollow praise, they all hate me. Fear me.”

“I’m not everyone else,” you replied simply.

His jaw tightened, his eyes searching yours for something—what, you weren’t sure. After a moment, he let out another breath and slumped further into the couch, his facade of strength crumbling little by little.

Without a word, he shifted, laying his head in your lap. The suddenness of it caught you off guard, but you didn’t flinch. Instead, you adjusted slightly, settling into the new position as his weight pressed down on you.

He closed his eyes, his expression tight and strained, like he was bracing himself for rejection or ridicule. When neither came, the tension in his face softened, and he let out a breath that sounded almost like a sigh of relief.

Your hand moved instinctively, brushing through his hair with slow, gentle strokes. The action was calming—for both of you—and you felt some of the residual fear and adrenaline from earlier start to dissipate.

“You’re so confusing,” he muttered, his voice muffled. “One minute, I want to... God, I wanted to... hurt you.” His voice cracked slightly, the admission raw and unguarded. “And the next, I can’t stand the thought of you leaving.”

“I know,” you said softly, continuing the soothing motions with your hand. “You don’t know what to do with me, do you?”

A faint, bitter laugh escaped him. “No,” he admitted. “I don’t. I’m used to control. To getting what I want, when I want it. But with you...” He opened his eyes, glancing up at you, his expression almost pleading. “You don’t play by my rules.”

“That’s because I’m not afraid of you,” you said gently. “Not the real you, anyway. The part of you that’s hurt. Lost.”

He tensed for a moment, his pride prickling at the words, but then he relaxed again, his head pressing a little deeper into your lap.

“You’re either brave or stupid,” he muttered, though there was no real bite to the words.

“Maybe both,” you said lightly, your lips curving into a faint smile.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The only sounds were the faint hum of the city outside and the rhythmic stroking of your fingers through his hair. Slowly, you felt his breathing even out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming less erratic.

“You remind me of something,” he said suddenly, his voice low and thoughtful.

“What’s that?”

“Home,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not that I’ve ever had one.”

Your chest tightened at his words, the raw vulnerability in them. “You can have one now,” you said softly. “It’s not too late, Homelander.”

He didn’t respond right away, his gaze fixed on some distant point in the room. Then, slowly, he reached up, his fingers brushing against yours where they rested in his hair. The gesture was hesitant, almost uncertain, but it spoke volumes.

“Stay,” he said quietly, the word more of a plea than a command.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured him, your voice steady.

He closed his eyes again, his expression softening as he allowed himself to let go—if only for a little while. For all his power, all his rage and arrogance, in this moment, he was just a man seeking comfort. And for now, you were willing to give it.

As the minutes passed, you felt the weight of his body grow heavier, his breaths deepening as exhaustion finally claimed him. You continued stroking his hair, your fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns, grounding him even in his sleep.

Whatever tomorrow brought—his anger, his pride, his destructive tendencies—you would face it together. For now, the storm had passed, leaving only the quiet and the fragile connection you shared.

---

#fanfiction #fanfic #the boys tv #the boys amazon #the boys #the boys fanfic #homelander #the boys series #homelander x reader #homelander fanfiction #homelander x you #homelander x y/n #near death experience #Strong woman #confident woman

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lynnaredfield3383 · 3 months ago

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Under 18 -DNI. Not my characters. Fem reader. Violence & swearing & references to drinking. (I got tired of seeing 'my gf can wear what she wants bc I can break your jaw. Look, I'll wear what I want bc I can break your damn arm. I know martial arts & various self-defense techniques.)

You were out with Kiri, Denki, Sero, and Bakugo waiting for Mina to show up. It was a regular Saturday night meet-up since you started dating Bakugo.

"I'll get the next round," you offer moving to the other end of the bar.

"Dude, you let her leave the house looking that fine?" Denki whistled lowly.

Normally, Bakugo would scowl or hit Denki for his comments, but everyone noticed he was different with you. Bakugo never controlled his ex-girlfriends in any way. They wore what they wanted. Only difference was he never let them leave his side. Where they went, he went an arm around their waist, and their body always pulled into his.

With you, Bakugo seemed relaxed, laid back, and genuinely calm no matter what you wore or how far from him you were.

"I'm not her owner, dunce face," Bakugo responded.

"Oh shit. That dudes about to..."

Before Sero could finish his sentence, a random guy walked up and grabbed your ass.

Denki, Sero, and Kiri looked back at Bakugo. He was leaning back with an amused smile but made no move to put the guy in his place.

"Watch."

You turned to the guy who had just grabbed your ass, his drunken gaze boring into you.

"Please, remove your hand, or I'll remove it for you," you were always polite the first time.

"Ooo, feisty, I like that."

You sighed as the bartender casually moved all the breakable items nearby. In one swift motion, you grabbed the man's wrist and had him face down on the bar.

"When someone asks you nicely, you should listen."

You held him there until he mumbled 'sorry', his arm bent at an awkward position causing pain.

"See, my girl can do whatever the fuck she wants because she can break arms."

Bakugo smiled as you returned with the next round of drinks and sat on his lap. The first time a guy had grabbed you and Bakugo stepped in, you'd dumped him and blocked him for weeks. When he finally listened to your side, he understood you didn't mind him standing up for you, but you were used to handling things yourself. As long as he had your back, that was enough for you.

Would Bakugo still beat that guy's ass for touching you? Sure, but now he was smart enough to wait until you or said guy went to the restroom.

#random thoughts #mha #mha bakugou #mha denki #mha kirishima #mha sero #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha mina #independence #strong woman

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