Homelander super-hearing you getting off and is there within SECONDS
homelander x f!reader
18+ lite daddy/mommy kink, oral sex, toys, masturbation, dirty talk, lite voyeurism, creampie, established relationship, spanking. AO3 link.
Christ, this is fucking pathetic, Homelander thinks, despite the broad smile he's wearing for the public. These publicity patrols are boring as dirt. While the initial wave of adoration is pleasant enough, the longer he mingles, the emptier it leaves him feeling. The faces all begin to blend together, and the shrill excitement in their voices grates more and more on his ears.
That's when he listens for you.
He can pinpoint the sound of your heartbeat in a hundred mile radius with ease. He's come to know it as intimately as his own. The cadence of it never fails to bring him comfort when he knows that, as you've said yourself, it beats for him.
Homelander frowns. Your heart rate is up. An eager fan offers him a photograph, their voice drowned out by the elevated sound of your heart in his ears. He signs the photo automatically, forcing a smile back into place, but he is lost to the unusual rhythm your heart has adopted.
Broadening his focus, he listens for the rest of you. Your breaths are shallow. For a horrifying moment, he thinks you're in pain. He feels himself panic, but the sentiment is cut short when your moan resonates in his ears, the sound of it going straight to his cock. He sucks in a sharp breath, and something cracks in his hand.
Looking down, he realizes he's just snapped the sharpie that he was signing with, the ink splattered over his gloves. He blinks, the sound of the world around him suddenly crashing back in on him. He laughs in a way that even he realizes sounds fake. "Whoops, sorry about that," he says breathlessly, licking his lips. His mouth feels dry.
"Apologies, folks, but there's someone out there in urgent need of a hero," he says, broadening his smile and offering a wide wave, followed by a salute, before he abruptly takes off into the air. The speed with which he ascends shocks a ripple through the crowd, who gasp and marvel as they watch him disappear into the sky.
When he lands on the balcony of his penthouse, the door is already open. He doesn't need to focus anymore; the heated sounds of your breaths and your pitchy little moans are all he can hear, along with a familiar, deliciously wet noise.
Homelander finds you on the bed, wearing nothing but a sleep shirt, legs spread as you fuck yourself with a striped red, white and blue silicone cock. You haven't even noticed him yet, too enraptured in your pleasure, in whatever fantasy is playing behind your closed eyelids.
"Just couldn't wait 'till I got home, huh?" Homelander asks, his voice low, thick with desire. He listened to you the whole way here. His cock is already throbbing in his pants.
You gasp, his voice startling you to a stop. The fear dissipates quickly when you realize it's him at the foot of the bed. You laugh breathily, your hand still between your thighs, clutching the flared base of the toy. "I wanted to be ready for you when you came home," you say, giving the toy a slow, deep thrust. His eyes flicker down to watch it sink back into you. "You're early."
"I heard you," he says, walking around to the head of the bed, pulling off his ink-stained glove. "I listened for you, and I could hear you fucking yourself," he says, coming to stand next to you. He reaches out to thumb at your lips, cupping your chin. "How was I supposed to stay out there smilin' for a crowd of mindless sycophants while you were moaning in my ear?"
You give his thumb a sweet kiss. "I'm not going to apologize if it means I get you to myself."
With his other hand, Homelander unzips his pants. You watch with half-lidded, hungry eyes as he draws his cock out, giving it a couple slow pumps. Without hesitation, you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, opening your mouth, tongue out, an open invitation that Homelander readily accepts.
You both moan as his cock slides heavy into your mouth. "Don't stop," he tells you, voice already tight. "Keep fucking yourself."
With a hum that makes him shudder, you start pumping the toy in and out again, spreading your legs wide to ensure he has a good view. He pushes his hands into your hair, cupping your head to hold you steady while he begins to fuck your mouth in earnest, gaze bouncing between your mouth and your pussy, watching that toy disappear over and over.
Your cheeks hollow as you suck him, your tongue pressed up firm to the underside of his cock. He always tastes clean, fresh and woodsy. You've never seen him sweat. The thought of him spying on you as you got yourself off makes your whole body throb hotly, but the fact he immediately ditched his job to finish you off really pushes you over the edge, makes you feel incoherent with arousal.
Homelander's breaths have turned harsh. He runs his tongue along his teeth before biting down on it. You look so fucking perfect like this, flushed with pleasure, moaning sweetly around his cock while he fucks your mouth.
God, he wants to kiss you so fucking bad. The thought overwhelms him so thoroughly that he abandons his encroaching orgasm for it, pulling his cock from your mouth so that he can taste it for himself, bending down and licking hungrily into it. You keen loudly against his lips, fucking yourself faster with the toy, the sound of it music to his ears.
The disappointed noise you make when he suddenly takes the toy from your hands, tossing it onto the bed, is goddamn adorable. "Don't you worry, sunshine. Daddy's got the real deal for you," he says, effortlessly manhandling you onto your knees, head down and ass up, perfectly presented to him where he stands at the edge of the bed.
You laugh breathlessly, folding your arms under your head. "Don't tease me, then. Fuck me," you demand, spreading your legs further apart. He startles you with a sharp slap to your ass with his one gloved hand.
"Language, young lady," he purrs. His voice is like honey in your ears, as warm and sweet as the rest of him. It makes you tingle all over.
You bite your lip, smiling through it. "Or what?"
Another sharp slap pulls a low moan from you. He's grinning now, too. "Or there will be consequences."
"Promises, promises," you say, arching your back deeper. He spanks the other cheek this time, and then again, and then a third time. Each strike feels like a crack of electricity, stimulating your already sensitized pussy. The thought of someone with the strength to hurl a car would have been mortifying, but Homelander has proved he can handle you without breaking you. He knows intimately exactly how you love to be touched.
Homelander rubs soothing circles on your reddening ass before he moves his hand to your hip, pulling you towards his leaking cock. The head of it makes a wet sound as it presses against your soaked clit.
Your answering moan is so sweet he can practically taste it melting on his tongue like sugar. He drags his cock up and down along your pussy a few times just to make you writhe, holding you still to keep you from pushing yourself back onto it.
“Oh, god, John, would you just– fucking hurry–” you’re cut off by another smart slap to your ass, your words breaking off into a half laugh, half moan.
“You spoil yourself when I’m not around, huh?” He asks, and though you know he’s trying to sound teasing, you can hear the restraint untethering in the shake of his voice.
“It’s nothing compared to how I’m gonna spoil you,” you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. “C’mon, baby. Fill me up. I want my pussy dripping while I take care of you.”
Homelander nearly doubles over, his vision temporarily tunneling. Fuck, you’re so goddamn perfect. He can’t play at being the restrained one anymore. He holds you steady while he bottoms out in one slow, smooth slide, the two of you moaning in tandem. The toy was good, but Homelander is so much better, throbbing hot and alive. He opens you wider than the toy had, hits every spot inside you just right. You claw at the bed, twisting your fist into the fabric.
“Ffffuck,” Homelander hisses, teeth clenched. He holds your hips firm between his hands, the dull nails of his ungloved hand biting into your skin. Your cunt feels unreal, puffy and soft from how you fucked yourself, clenching around him like a hot vice. It takes everything in him not to pound you into the bed with all his strength.
While he shakes beneath the weight of his restraint, you push back against him. He lets you, pulling you in by your hips, but allowing you to control the pace. He watches, transfixed, as you bounce back against him over and over, using his cock as beautifully as you did the toy. “Faster,” he murmurs, pulling you back more sharply on each deep thrust, punching breathy little moans out of you.
After a particularly hard thrust that rattles all the way up your spine, you reach back and grab hold of his bare wrist, thumb stroking tenderly. “Don’t break me, baby,” you say softly.
That snaps Homelander’s attention up from where he’s driving into you. He meets your gaze, his lips parted. He looks wrecked, flushed with arousal, eyes blown black. There’s a fraction of a delay before he nods at you. “Never. Never. I’m going to keep you forever,” he says fervently. Your stomach flips. You believe him. He takes over the pace, fucking you deep and good, leaving you no choice but to take it while he chases his release. You move a hand down between your legs to feel your own cunt, to let his cock slide between your middle and index finger before dragging them back up to rub slow circles on your clit.
Homelander keeps a relentless pace, the rhythm stuttering the closer he gets to his climax. His cock has you stretched so nicely that you swear you can feel every throb of it, and when he comes, the rushing heat of him spilling inside you paired with the movement of your own deft fingers tips you over the edge with him. Homelander doubles over you, covering your back with his chest, both of his arms wrapping around your waist as he fucks the last of his release deep into you, gradually slowing to deep, pointed thrusts, milking the last of your respective orgasms.
You give a full body shudder, his weight sinking you down fully to the bed. The only sound in the room is the loud huffs of both of your breaths, the ambience of the city drowned out. The world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and the sound of your rapidly beating heart. The sound that brought him here in the first place.
Homelander lets out a shaking breath, nuzzling at your spine. After a while, he exhales a soft laugh. “Wowie.”
You laugh, too. “You should listen in on me more often.”
“Foolish of you to think I don’t already,” Homelander answers lazily, a slight slur to his words. “Got lucky today.” Gently, he eases himself off of you, giving you the chance to adjust. You roll onto your back, and then reach out to catch him, pulling him right back down on top of you.
“I’m the lucky one,” you say, drawing him close for a languid kiss, pushing your hands into his hair. Homelander presses in deep, savoring the feel of you on his lips, the taste of you. Everything about you intoxicates him. He feels love drunk, heavy-limbed and satiated as the two of you kiss, unbothered by the mess between you.
You eventually start working on undoing his shirt, peeling away the layer of fabric fastened across his chest. “Let’s go,” you murmur, pushing the suit down his shoulders. “Let’s take a bath. I promised to take care of you.”
Homelander rumbles out a pleased noise, nuzzling at the crook of your neck before leaning back, helping you undress him. “Sounds like an excuse to wash my hair,” he accuses, sounding no less content with the thought.
“Someone has to rectify the wrongs of your stylist,” you respond playfully. You’ve already made quite the mess of his hair, which had started off neatly slicked back.
He chuckles. “It would go everywhere when I flew if they didn’t glue it in place.”
“Excuses,” you dismiss, kissing him again. You feel him grin against your lips before he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you towards the bathroom. You smile up at him, touching the side of his face. He turns into it, aggressively and repeatedly kissing into your palm until you laugh. His eyes are never softer than when he makes you laugh.
Every sound you make soothes him. Whether it be your breaths, your laughs, your words, or the beat of your heart, your very existence creates a white noise that drowns out the noise of the world. Whether you are near or far, you bring him peace.
He is most certainly the lucky one.
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ON THE TOPIC OF BARNABY. as well as his relationship with Wally.
So. To kick this off - Riv (@funonion) and I were Speculating, and they introduced me to the johari window:
They put Barnaby in the “facade” section, and I entirely agree. To quote them;
“So he’s Wally’s guide, right? He’s the “knowledgeable” one of the two and is always the one teaching him new things. And you know, it’s one thing if you’re just teaching him how to laugh or how to tell a joke. But.
Clown has given us two doors. One says that Barnaby understands Wally in a way the rest of the neighborhood doesn’t, and is willing to do his dirty work so to speak. The other says that their friendship was not a natural occurring thing and had to be enforced repeatedly within the show. HOW THAT’S BEING ENFORCED IS ANOTHER THING ENTIRELY but it is worth it to note.
What is Barnaby willing to keep? What is he willing to bury for his little buddy? I can’t say anything definitively yet, but the fact that I even have to ask is telling. The class clown archetype is usually used as a way to cover up for something else a character might be experiencing”
And my response, (I won’t directly quote because I have little things in the phrasing & elaboration to add / tweak );
Barnaby being a Comic Relief Character immediately raised so many alarms in my head. I love comic relief characters. They’re always so fucked up in one way or another, and Barnaby is almost certainly SO inauthentic. He’s wearing a comedy mask just as opaque as Wally’s own mask. In everything we’ve seen about him so far he’s either Teaching Wally, wisecracking/joking, or… pretty much nothing else. We got that moment of concern in audio 14-14, but that doesn’t reveal anything beyond genuine care for Wally.
Comedic characters have the best disguises. Their poker faces & ability to deflect is always top tier [and practiced], and just look at comedy-focused actors and entertainers - so many of them have severe issues, either with their mental health or life. From what i’ve observed both in that aspect & with fictional characters, they play it off & work hard to entertain/deflect [one in the same] right up until the end. Sometimes it’s a coping mechanism. Usually it’s both. If they laugh loud enough and make people think they’re lighthearted fools w/ nothing underneath, no one will look any deeper and thus they’re “safe”.
& I’m a little suspicious that Barnaby’s red/orange/yellow spots aren’t naturally those colors. While yes, he could be (in-universe) designed that way to echo Ms. Beagle, there’s a strong possibility that that’s not it. What if he paints them to feel a connection to her, or it’s a physical manifestation of Barnaby covering up his insecurities/issues - what if it’s part of him striving to convince the world that he is what he paints himself as.
The laidback funnyguy with a loving mom and not a problem in the world.
And I mean, Barnaby claims to be a natural blue and I believe him! But the other colors? I’m doubtful
(I was going to include the Cast As Lil Kids Designs in this since Barnaby has all blue spots, but given how early in 2021 it was posted and how there seem to be little discrepancies from the ~official~ designs, I don’t want to provide it as evidence.)
& on the topic of Wally and Barnaby’s relationship being both real and not - disclaimer, this conversation happened before my Updated Thoughts On Them post, so there may be some minor rephrasing here from what I originally said - I’m sure that the relationship started out as inauthentic. Wally was assigned Barnaby as a best friend and technically vice versa, but I don’t doubt for a second that it became real to some extent. Clown wouldn’t treat their relationship outside of “canon” WH stuff the way that he does if they weren’t actually friends. They’ve said that Wally & Barnaby would be friends in every universe (which melts my heart <3 platonic soulmates my beloved <3), so then I have to agree with Riv. what WILL Barnaby do for Wally? I touched on this in the Milk Theory, but especially if Barnaby prides himself on “knowing Wally better than anything else”, what would Barn do to preserve that?
This relates to another conversation we had - Barnaby possibly having abandonment issues. It’s such a choice to have him of all characters be explicitly stated as an orphan. That and while every other Neighbor with a mentioned family have a somewhat large one (Howdy and his gajillion relatives, Julie and her three siblings, Poppy and her crowded tree [note: Eddie has a mentioned mother, but that info is tenuous and who knows if there are other Dears]), Barnaby has also explicitly stated that Ms. Beagle is his only family. That’s it. And farm life can’t be a sociable way to grow up, not with all the chores he must have had and how rural he might have grown up. Barnaby jokes that Home is the “Big Apple”, which could just be a joke - but jokes often come from a place of truth, and Home might be the most populated area Barnaby has lived in. Who’s to say!
Either way, Barnaby was orphaned one way or another, and I don’t doubt that it weighs on him. Especially if his birth parents really did abandon him. That added to a possible life of loneliness… I wonder if he’s latched onto Wally emotionally, which would hit all the painful places if it turns out that my “Barnaby is more attached to Wally than Wally is to Barnaby” theory has merit. Abandonment issues could also strongly back the apparent walls he’s plastered over with circus tent fabric
Back to Barnaby & Wally: the fact that, at present, Barnaby and Wally seem to have the best disguises / strongest masks. That. looking at 14-14, i suspect that Barnaby is excellent at keeping his up, but as soon as Wally’s mask cracks, so does Barnaby’s.
And then there’s the side of their dynamic that we could look at - it seems to be a very multifaceted relationship. The way that Barnaby genuinely cares yet in the 00 Halloween audio Wally was left off to the side and Barnaby was just “checking on him” while socializing (then again, this could be part of Barnaby understanding Wally & respecting his space / Wally wanting a break from that socialization). Barnaby is patient with Wally and yet he seems to sometimes treat Wally as his sidekick / let him fade into the background and yet Barnaby kept checking in on Wally during the 14 bug audios (this last one I could tie into the abandonment issues theory).
Then there’s how Barnaby calls Wally kid & can tend to treat him like one despite both of them being in the same age group. The way that all of this could, in a way, relate to the infantilization of autistic people (no matter how well-meaning or unintentional) & internalized ableism.
Note: Riv pointed out that Barnaby does seem to be doing the best with what he has, and that this can connect to the Johari Window’s blind spot / unknown.
I do agree with this wholeheartedly! And I have to mention that - and making a Very educated guess here - the interactions we’ve seen take place in the very late 60s / very early 70s, so Barnaby’s behavior towards Wally is actually pretty fucking stellar given the time period. We can’t expect him to be perfect or do everything / say everything right. That would be boring I think! And one thing I deeply appreciate about the Neighbors & their dynamics is that they feel like real layered people, not cardboard cutouts being perfect caricatures of what people are “supposed” to be like.
Riv also presented this:
We likely are going to reach a point where Wally asks Barnaby something that he can’t / doesn’t want to / won’t answer. And like.. Ok. This is a slight tangent but I swear it’s related! When I first discovered WH and learned the Wally basics, I wondered two things.
Are we going to watch Wally “discover” new emotions? Because he certainly has them. Clown has said that Wally only ever feels happy, and a lot of people took that to mean that Wally can’t feel anything else. I don’t think we should take that answer at face value, because. I mean. Look at the project & creator we’re talking about. Layers, guys. Indirect direct answers. I think that Clown meant that Wally only ever feels happy in the Neighborhood because he has no reason to feel any negative emotion. Everything is as it should be. Until it isn’t - and I think that’s where he’s going to have to struggle with new emotions as he encounters them through new situations/events unfolding as the “story” starts to deteriorate. We’ve actually seen this a little bit - in Wally’s record audios (i believe the chronological second to last?), the way he says “Let Me In” so insistently. That’s definitely not a positive emotion being expressed.
How will the topic of death be handled - because it will be handled, it’s stated in the project warnings. I was wondering this even before I read the list, because I was presented with a blank slate puppet character and so went “oh fuck, this dude doesn’t know about death, does he?” Obviously I wanted to know how that would go. I want to know how it Will go!
How would Barnaby explain emotions that Wally doesn’t know how to convey? How would Barnaby explain death in a way that Wally would understand - given that Barnaby (& all the Neighbors sans Wally) knows what death is - and would Barnaby be willing to explain such a thing? I have a feeling we may find out.
And in a way, I suspect that if none of them know, Wally will find out himself and have to process it without help. But then again, how can something die if it was never really alive in the first place? Unless the death warning relates to human characters… I’m currently assuming it relates to both humans and puppets.
In conclusion: Barnaby has a carefully fabricated facade, he's doing the best with what he has but it likely won't be enough, and uh. shits fucked!
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