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after-witch · 2 years

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Treat You Better [Homelander x Reader]

Title: Treat You Better [Homelander x Reader]

Synopsis: Homelander catches you talking to another man before your next session, and he doesn’t like it. Milky White Follow up.

Word count: 4094

notes: yandere & possessive behavior, reader is an escort, adult breastfeeding and breastplay, unhealthy relationship

“Shit!”

Ashley practically spits onto her phone as she thumbs the screen, rapidly texting whoever-it-was that was on the receiving end of her furrowed brow and pursed lips. She turns to you, smile tight and prim, and her voice raises an octave in faux pleasantry.

“Sorry about that. Emergency. You know how it is. This’ll just take as sec… wait here for me, ‘kay? ‘Kay.”

She’s gone before you can even answer, but it’s not like she was genuinely giving you a choice. You’re standing in one of what you’re sure are many elevator lobbies at Vought, waiting to be taken up to Homelander’s penthouse for your… services.

Services that you’ve rendered for some time now. It’s strange how as the meetings piled up, it got easier to do; easier to not think about how strange it was to have the strongest hero in the world sucking at your nipples, eager for the milk inside. And eager for something else, too… but you’ve never been brave enough to vocalize it, even to yourself. Warmth, maybe. Affection.

There’s nowhere to sit properly in the lobby, so you find yourself leaning against one of the tall pillars and hoping Ashley doesn’t take too long. You don’t want to be late. Homelander is many things--to the public, and to you--but he’s not the most patient of men. You were late a few weeks ago, thanks to a nasty traffic jam, and you swear he was practically pouting like a child when you finally made it up to his suite.

His attitude for that particular session wasn’t the best, and you convinced Ashley to have the driver pick you up half an hour early every time, just in case. Whenever you gave the slightest hint that Homelander wasn’t happy with something, all you had to do was mention it to Ashley and she usually fixed it right up. This was no exception. Besides, you could always wait in the car if you got there early, which is exactly what you did today.

Except now… well. You fight the urge to glance down at your phone and check the time. But maybe you should just go up yourself? Would Ashley be mad? Would Homelander be mad? Did you even remember what floor he was on?

”Are you lost?”

Your thoughts are broken up by a voice you’ve never heard, and you jump reflexively at the sudden intrusion into your space.

You get your bearings and let out a shaky laugh. It’s a man in a casual suit, no name tag. His soft brown hair is combed in a side part, and he’s carrying a tablet of his own. A Vought employee, maybe a bit lower on the ladder than Ashley, but an employee nonetheless.

“No,” you say, offering a thin smile. “Just waiting for someone.”

The man leans back a little on his heels. “Ah,” he says. “I was hoping you were lost. Then I could help you find your way.” He flashes you a smile, white and charming, so bright they are probably veneers.

And then it hits you.

Oh, he’s flirting. You can’t help the little laugh-scoff that escapes your lips, or the way you break into your own grin. You’re flattered, in a way. It’s not like you got a lot of opportunity to meet new men, what with a newborn and your current job taking up much of your free time. Both were exhausting, and exhaustion left no room for flings or nights out at restaurants or clubs, hoping to catch someone’s eye.

“Who are you waiting for?” He asks, looking you up and down in a way that he probably thinks is subtle--but really isn’t.

You don’t know if you’re supposed to say; Ashley did tell you that everything you did here was under a very strict NDA. Would telling this man that you’re waiting for Ashley violate that agreement, somehow? It might, and you err on the side of caution.

“I’m not sure, I was just told to wait here until they came to get me.” You pause.. Maybe you should throw him a false bone, just in case he decides to remember your face later on. “It’s for an interview.”

At your words, the man smiles wider. The elevator door behind you dings and opens, and you internally curse when the sound is not followed by Ashley’s clicking heels. If only she would hurry up--or if only this guy would be on his way. ”Interviewing for Vought? Congratulations.” He leans in closer, and the subtle musk of his cologne tickles your nose. “I hope you get the job. I’d like to see you around--”

“Well, this is a surprise.”

All the muscles in your body tense for one terrible moment, and then you turn towards the sound of the voice--Homelander.

Fuck.

The man immediately swerves, just as jumpy as you—and you wonder if, being an apparent long term employee for Vought, he has more to worry about if Homelander catches him slacking off on the job. Because when you glance at his face, you see, for just a moment, a split second of fear before it smooths over into a pleasant, strained smile.

“Homelander, sir,” the man says, smoothing out his hair. “It’s a pleasure—an honor.” He extends his hand and Homelander looks down at it for a few moments too long not to be awkward before taking it. You see the man’s muscles strain under the apparent weight of Homelander’s grip, before the moment is over.

“And who is this lovely lady?” Homelander turns to you, and you catch on in an instant that you’re not supposed to know him.

“Ah, well,” the man says, offering you a tight smile. “I actually didn’t catch her name. Miss…?”

You give it, feeling breathless, hoping your voice doesn’t tremble.

“She’s here for an interview,” the man offers, sensing awkwardness and anxiety in your tone, though he completely misunderstands the reasons for it. “I was just—”

“An interview!” Homelander’s smile is big and plastic and his voice matches it completely. You’ve never seen this side of Homelander up close, the side that’s full of fake pleasantries and falsehoods. It’s a sight you’ve only caught in front of the cameras, though you’ve only dared to question his publicly chipper attitude recently, being privy to something softer and more intimate and raw in your sessions with him. After all, how many people watching news clips of Homelander can say he’s been at their breast?

“You know what?” Homelander turns his smile towards you, and isn’t there something in his eyes, something you’re not quite catching? “I’d love to do the honors and take you up. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

It takes you a moment to realize that you should be shocked and grateful and happy, and the words spill out of your shaking lips.

“Thank you—thank you, Homelander, sir. It’s, um, an honor, really, I—”

His arm is around your shoulder, steering you away from the man without another word.

“Don’t mention it. Happy to help! And hey, buddy?” He turns his head back towards the man, who is standing, looking slightly stupefied, by the pillar. “Remember—you’re the real hero.”

It’s the most unpleasant elevator ride of your life, and you’ve ridden the elevator countless times with Ashley. Even after Homelander pulls his arm from around your shoulder, you can feel the weight of it on you.

Tension fills the small space so heavily that you swear you can taste it. Your mouth opens and closes a few times, but you’re unable to make the right words come out.

Then you finally splutter, “I’m sorry for being late, but Ashley—”

Homelander’s look cuts you off before you finish.

“You think I’m mad because you’re 5 minutes late?”

Well, you did. Not so much anymore.

“I don’t… know,” you admit, offering up a shrug, a pathetic smile. What else did you do? A mental checklist pops up in your head, trying to go over the ways you might have offended him, but nothing comes to mind. The elevator opens and he ushers you out.

He talks as he walks, not looking behind him.

“Who was that guy?”

“Guy?” You say, then feel stupid immediately after when he glances back at you. “He was just—I mean, Ashley went—”

Homelander finally turns to face you, and there’s something deep and impatient in his tone. Like you should know what your transgression was, and be apologizing for it already, but instead he’s having to explain it to you like a child.

“I’m not asking about Ashley. I’m asking about the guy you were talking to. The guy who looked like he wanted to fuck you right in the elevator lobby.” He practically spits out the last words, looking disgusted, looking…

Oh.

Homelander isn’t mad because you were late or because you were wasting his time.

Homelander is pissed because he’s jealous.

“I don’t know him,” you say slowly, thinking over every word. “He just came up to me while I was waiting, so I…”

It’s only a few steps between you and Homelander, and he strides through them in no time. He doesn’t grab you, but he’s close, as close as the man in the lobby was. But the two of you are alone, and there’s something new between you that you didn’t see before. Something that Homelander must be feeling, to act like this.

“I don’t want you talking to him.” It’s not a request, nor a demand—but a fact. One he expects you to accept, as if his word is law. And considering that he pays your bills, maybe it is. “You’re not here for him. Who are you here for? Say it.”

Your chest feels tight. There’s an uncomfortable feeling blooming there, and not the type of uncomfortable you feel when Homelander cuddles up to your breasts. A different kind, one more prickly, one more tinged with anxiety.

“I said,” he repeats, and for a moment you think he will grab you, but he doesn’t. “Who are you here for?’

“You,” you blurt, not sure how to say it, not sure how to take any of this.

He takes a short breath to steady himself. “Then say it. So I know you understand. Say, ‘I’m here to see Homelander.’”

You swallow, thick. You think about your nice apartment and the way you don’t skip meals to pay for diapers anymore.

“I’m here to see Homelander.” Your voice is almost a whisper. The anxiety bubbling in your chest gets pushed down, firm, insistently. You’re not afraid. You can’t be. He hasn’t hurt you. He’s just… jealous. He was preparing for a session and saw you with some guy. It would be weird if he wasn’t attached to you in some way after all this time, after the intimacy you’ve shared—paid intimacy, but still. Wouldn’t it?

The tight tension in his face seems to melt at your words, as he mulls them over, takes them in.

“Okay,” he says, half-sighing. “Okay. Good.” He smiles, and it’s not the tight smile from before; it’s the smile you’re usually greeted with when you enter his suite. Something between relief and pleasantry.

You smile, too, and if he notices the strained edges of it, it doesn’t bother him.

And just like that, everything is back to normal. Or as normal as it gets when he gestures towards the plush sofas in his living area and your hands automatically begin peeling off your shirt and undoing the clasp of your bra. You’ve taken to buying nicer maternity bras now; maybe he appreciates them, maybe he doesn’t. There’s no denying that you feel far less self-conscious in something with a bit of lace and style to it.

Sometimes you swear that the couch fits your grooves now. Maybe it does. Because it feels right—it feels comfortable��to sit down and snuggle yourself in. It doesn’t feel as awkward when Homelander shakes his wrists and sighs, forcing his body to relax, before he lays down with his head in your lap.

Today, he doesn’t go right for your breasts, though they’re waiting and primed. You’ve taken to timing your feedings and pumpings just right; it makes it easier. Otherwise, it tends to hurt, feeling forced and strained.

But now, he simply stares up at you. He’s not mad anymore. But he’s thinking. You can tell, even before he opens his mouth, that he’s not going to drop things entirely.

“You really didn’t know that guy?”

You tilt your head just a little as you look down at him. Somehow, when he’s in your lap, you don’t feel as much tension and fear as you might otherwise. Your hands stroke the side of his head, smoothing down his hair. It feels like a natural gesture at this point.

“I really didn’t know him.” And it’s the truth.

He smiles, a little childish smile, as if he was doubting you up until that moment.

“Good,” he says. “Because I… well.” He’s eyeing your breasts now, your rigid nipples, which move slightly as your chest rises and falls with your breath. “We’ll get to that later, okay? Later…”

He sighs and you take a breath, preparing yourself for the sensations that you can never entirely steel yourself to take. His mouth on your nipple, insistent, sucking. The motions are too strong, too controlled, especially now that he’s had weeks of practice. It’s better that you can’t get completely used to it, though, because it keeps your mind occupied. You don’t want to freely think about what just transpired; about what it means, or could mean. Hopefully, Homelander will be satiated with your session—with your breasts and milk and the way your hands gingerly stroke his head—and forget all about it.

“Mine.” The word is murmured around your leaking nipple so softly that you almost don’t hear it. But your mind jolts when it registers.

“Mine,” he says again, insistent, almost moaning it around your breast. “Right?”

You don’t want to think about that word, or what he’s saying, or the way his mouth movements have become more lurid. Something closer to what he’d be doing if he had fucked you the way you assumed he wanted that first day. You think about anything else. The tacky decor on the wall across from you. The cologne of the man from before. Homelander himself. His hair is soft. His skin is soft. He probably gets professional facial treatments, and God knows how much his haircare costs.

Then there’s a sharp low pain around your breast, and you gasp, jerking away just enough that his arm snakes around your back and holds you there. When you look down, you see a slight ring of red around your skin. He nipped you, he actually nipped you—

“Right?” He says again, eyes holding your own, breath panting shallow on your wet, sore nipple.

“Right,” you repeat, voice hoarse. “Of course.” You go back to petting him. Your voice is strained. “But remember? No biting.”

“Mm,” he mutters, before licking the skin he bit with surprising tenderness. “Sorry.”

He doesn’t seem all that sorry, but you’re too focused on the man, his grip around your shoulder as he led you into the elevator, his insistence on you saying you’re only here for him; the way he claimed you and bit you, and you have no recourse but to take it, admonishing him without any real authority.

It’s a lot to take in. Is it so bad that Homelander apparently wants you? You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find him attractive. But you were an escort. One that didn’t actually have sex with him—he hasn’t touched you in any way except your breasts, and it’s always been within the context of him nursing from you.

And yet.. You’d been seeing each other for months now. If he was growing attached to you, it wasn’t surprising, sure--and maybe it was even a good thing?

Before you know it, his alarm goes off. He doesn’t groan childishly like he normally does. Instead, he gives your breasts one last gentle suckle. It feels like an apology for his earlier harshness, and the softness of his mouth does feel soothing--both to your breast and your ego.

He gets up, like always.

You redress, like always.

But instead of waiting by the elevator, Homelander is standing close to you. Watching. Waiting. Patiently, which is rather unlike him, and it sets the first nervous sparks off in your mind.

When you’re dressed, he smiles--a bit too thinly, a bit too forced--and gestures for you to come closer. You do. Because he has given you no reason to avoid doing so. And he is paying you, after all, for your time.

You don’t know what you expect him to do.

But you don’t expect him to suddenly press both hands gently on either side of your face, stroking, almost a mimicry of what you do to him when he’s in your lap.

“Sir?” You ask, feeling your feet shuffle in place, feeling heat rise in your cheeks, feeling something nervous prickle in your chest.

He lets his hands fall away, and something feels like it’s stuck in your throat as you look up at him.

“You’re pretty, you know that? No--I meant to say, you’re beautiful.” He corrects himself, and you almost get the sense that he’s practiced what he’s about to say. “That’s what they say, isn’t it? It gives you a…” He gestures towards you, all of you, head to toe. “Glow.”

The rug underneath the coffee table is suddenly very interesting, because it’s all you want to look at .

“I think that’s for when you’re actually pregnant,” you correct. Then you realize that you’ve just rebuffed his compliment, and you add, swiftly. “But um, thank you.”

He snorts a little out of his nose. It’s a surprisingly natural gesture, one that is far more welcome than rehearsed speeches or prim smiles.

“So.” He clicks his tongue, and takes a breath. He steps closer to you, reaches out, and for a moment you think he’ll touch your face again. But instead he puts his arm around the small of your back. It’s intimate, far more intimate, somehow, than anything he’s done before.

“We’ve been seeing each other for a while now, haven’t we?”

You have. But you get the feeling he isn’t talking about your booked-and-paid-for-sessions, exactly. At least not in the same way that you view them.

“Mmhm,” you hum, trying to keep your voice light. Being this close to him in a new situation is strange. Is it bad? You can’t deny the feelings of anxiety in your chest, but it’s not because you’re afraid of him. It’s because you don’t know what’s going to happen, don’t know if saying or doing the wrong thing will end with you losing the best source of income you’ve ever had in your life. “It’s been nice,” you add, when you’ve paused for too long.

“Nice,” he repeats, softer than you said it. And now one of his hands does come back up to your face, gently holding your chin.

“It’s coming up on our… I guess you could call it our six month anniversary, isn’t it?”

You nod, though you didn’t know that nor did you ever view it as an anniversary, and he tilts your head slightly. He’s looking at you so carefully, but you don’t know why--or what he’s searching for. His fingers spread until one of them rests on your pulse.

“You’re so nervous,” he murmurs. “Your heart is pounding. Why?”

“I don’t know,” you breathe out, and it’s the truth. It feels strange to talk with his hand on your throat, on your chin, holding your face so delicately. “I’m not sure we… I don’t know if this is…”

You don’t know what to say or how to say it. None of your chats with the other women in the agency prepared you for this type of dynamic shift, and Ashley certainly didn’t, either.

“C’mon,” he chides, and his face gets just a little closer. “Don’t tell me you don’t like me.”

“Of course I like you,” you say, quick, and you don’t mean it to sound defensive but it probably does. “I’m just confused?” And it’s the truth again. You don’t know why but you’ve always sensed that he prefers the truth above all.

“Well, let me clear up some of the confusion.” There’s humor in his clipped tone, and at least your heart calms down a little. You haven’t stepped on any hidden mines so far, and maybe you wouldn’t ever, as long as you kept yourself clear-headed about things.

“I like you…” He emphasizes the words by removing his hand from your face and gesturing from his chest to yours. “And you like me…” And then back again. “And what do two people who like each other do?” His lips quirk up in a smile, expectant, even a little charming. When you don’t answer, he starts for you. “They…” He spins his wrist, laying his palm flat in front of you, enticing you to finish his thought.

“They kiss?” You suggest. Because what else might you suggest, given his proximity, given the way he was holding your face, given the way his body is close in a way so different than all the times you’ve seen him before?

“Right,” he says, half-laughing, and his hand grips your chin as he leans in and presses a kiss to your lips.

Your heart thuds inside your chest as your mind catches up to your body--to his body, and his mouth, and his hands on you. You murmur something against his lips, but you don’t know if it’s dissenting or not.

The kiss is warm and chaste, at first. Tentative and soft. And then his mouth opens against yours, enveloping your lips, and you don’t really think as you return the gesture, as the kiss deepens. There’s a buzzing underneath your skin, and you can’t decide if it’s good or bad. You feel electric. You feel naughty. You feel conflicted.

Should you be doing this? It was what you expected all this months ago, wasn’t it? How far will this go? Will he take you into the bedroom before you leave and--

He suddenly pulls away and his eyebrows furrow in annoyance, and there’s the brief fear that you did something wrong, before you hear the elevator door ding harsh and loud.

His face scrunches up in pure irritation.

“Hello, Ashley,” he says, voice biting, hard.

Ashley, for her part, is wearing a painted on smile.

“Hello, Homelander, sir.” She waves to you with painted nails waggling. “I’ve just come to collect--”

“I know why you’re here, Ashley. I’m not a moron. Christ.”

The electrical tension that was in the air has all but evaporated, replaced with an uncomfortable irritation that makes you feel slightly ill. You snatch your discarded jacket from the sofa and begin to fully button it up, offering an apologetic smile to Homelander as you whisk yourself towards Ashley.

Homelander starts to say something, but stops himself.

Ashley looks at you, then back at Homelander, then back to you. She looks like she might say something too, but her lips close and she taps the parking garage floor and simply stares ahead, eyes slightly widened, as they shut on Homelander.

Before they do, you offer a wave. It feels dumb. But in the split second before the door closes, you see him return it, and maybe that means things will be okay.

Ashley’s phone is dinging before the elevator reaches the bottom floor.

“Oh, okay,” she says, confusion clear in her voice.

Your stomach twists. You blew it, didn’t you? He’s telling her to have you fuck off and never come back, or telling her that he wants someone else from the agency, someone who won’t scamper out of his sight like a mouse the moment she gets kissed.

You finally can’t take it anymore, and you force yourself to ask: “Is everything okay?”

Ashley nods a little too quickly for you liking.

“Oh, of course. It’s just--well.” She gives a sly grin in your direction. “Homelander just told me to book you two reservations at the nicest restaurant in town for tomorrow night. Exciting, huh?”

You wish you could blame the drop in your stomach on the elevator thudding to a stop.

“Yeah,” you reply, thinking about his lips against your own. “Exciting.”

#yandere homelander #homelander x reader #yandere the boys #yandere #afterwitch writes #I'd say it's in between yandere and not #but gonna tag it cause.. kinda!

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anxiousnerdwritings · 1 year

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yandad!homelander:*take the supe!young!reader to the seven* super!young!reader:*demonstrates his powers by almost killing the members* yandad!homelander:☺they are so cute

Homelander: Hmmmmm….I don’t know about bringing in such a young Supe to be trained to join the Seven. Seems pretty ridiculous to me.

*Young!Supe!Reader, nearly obliterates half the city by showing an ounce of their power*

Homelander: *yandad mode activated* That’s my bby🥰💞💗🥹

#anxious answers #yandere homelander #yandad homelander #yandere the boys #yandere the boys concept #yandad concept #yandere concept

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cute-bag-of-bones · 10 months

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Can't Trust A Supe

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Masterlist

Part 1: "Uncle" Billy

Part 2: Ma Petite Poulette

Part 3: I'm scared

Part 4: You Got My Eyes

Part 5: No Running Away

Part 6: Angel Face

Part 7: Skin

Part 8: Pen and Paper

Part 9: Get Well Soon

Part 10: Blind

Part 11: Blush

Part 12: Homelander Apology

Part 13: Pepper Spray

Part 14: Milk

#billy butcher #homelander #the boys #fanfic #hughie campbell #oc stuff #frenchie #mothers milk #the female #slight yandere #yandere homelander #platonic yandere

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satrryeys4eva · 4 months

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.....soo ....... After basically being gone for literal years...... I'm back...sooo pls send requests for

Damon Salvatore

Aegon ii Targaryen

Oliver Quick

Homelander

Gotham! Bruce Wayne

Henry Bowers

Vance Hopper

Michael Langdon

Hunter Sylvester

Kevin Khatchadourian

Miguel Diaz

Koby (opla)

Luffy (opla)

Buggy (opla)

(yandere and dark mostly pls and if you don't have a plot that's ok just send in a character, a song and a vibe!)

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missglaskin · 2 years

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Warnings: TOXIC, ABUSE, FORCED relationship, Yandere

In many ways, Homelander could be considered a unique yandere, since he embodies a lot of yandere traits & types.

His possessiveness shines the most. He owns you. Any friends and families; gone. They don’t care or love you as he does. All your financial needs and resources will all be tied to him. There’s the need to control your every move. And he’ll feel threatened; feel as if you’re slipping away from his control if you were to make a decision without his notice. Homelander doesn’t feel the need to justify his actions, yet he still does.

Which leads to his protectiveness and manipulativeness. He’s acting in your best interest. Have you seen the world? Have you seen its people? The mud people. Sure, you may be one of them, but you’re not the same as them; you’re different. You need him; you need him to protect you from whatever danger that threatens to pull you apart - even if he has to hold you a little too tight in order to get the point across.

Your dependence on him is also tied to his dependence on you. It doesn't take long for you to notice his clinginess after being with him for a short while. He’s so emotionally dependent on you and for the strongest being on earth; he’s fragile. Nothing angers him when your attention is away from somewhere. Prepare to say goodbye to any pets you own. Spend a lot of time tending to your plants and they will be lasered.

It’s safe to say the most selfish and impulsive. Everything he does is for his own desire. If he were to do something nice, just know he always expects something in return. Homelander wants you to worship him, to see him as a god and to treat him like one. Failing to comply will result in disastrous results. Homelander acts as a toddler with tantrums. One moment he’s fine, the next moment he’s presenting the body of your dear friend. In the event you anger him too much, he may accidentally break a bone or two, and then demand that Vought heals you. They’re sure to give you an extra bottle of compound v in case anything were to occur.

Speaking of injuries; Homelander is a sadist to any obvious person. It does not matter how much he claims to love you and care for you as well as the fact that you are the only person he can tolerate; bad habits still appear nonetheless. He sometimes gets the satisfaction of humiliating you or making you so uncomfortable. His jokes are also questionable at best. Such as making one about how funny it’d be to drop you from a ten story building only to catch you at the last minute; anticipating your laugh.

Sometimes you assume he resents you, which isn't far from the truth. Homelander hates what you mean to him; how you are a weakness. The truth is that he’s obsessed; fixated. You occupy almost every thought in his mind. In spite of all the photoshoots and interviews Homelander have, he will always have time to watch you in secret; stalk you. His team and the surrounding staff notice his blank stare; it’s when his mind goes to you. His ears are always tuned to your heartbeat and voice.

In nature, Homelander is already delusional. Combined with his tendencies, it only exacerbates his delusions. As far as he is concerned, you love him, and that you two have something special between you. That's what he convinced himself with Maeve, despite her apparent resistance to his touches; with Stormfront, despite her obvious manipulations. You're lying, shy, there's someone else, you just need time, you're confused; there are endless excuses he has for you.

In spite of all his delusions, there are hints of lucidity. His presence causes your heartbeat to pick up; not due to fluster, but due to fear. When he leaves the room, he pretends not to hear your deep breaths; on the verge of a breakdown. And when you break, it's adorable how you think the shower can drown out your cries. As long as you tell Homelander you love him even if it's in a shaky voice and smile even if it's crooked, he'll indulge in the fantasy that you and him were meant to be. That you, him and Ryan will be one happy family.

#homelander x reader #the boys x reader #yandere x reader #yandere homelander #yandere the boys #yandere #x reader #reader insert #the boys #homelander #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #imagine #imagines #scenarios

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yanderes-galore · 1 year

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A romantic concept of Homelander form The Boys if you will? Him as a yandere would be the worst nightmare for anyone....

I've finished season one and haven't started the other seasons but I did do my research and... oh boy.

I feel so bad for whoever is in this situation...

Concept is kept vague and may have some spoilers for the show but not too many. I hope I managed to nail his character :) I really like him as a character so I had fun with this. I just wish I included more tense situations in this as I feel I could've depicted him better. This was just a general yandere behavior observation though.

Yandere! Homelander Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Swearing, Murder, Kidnapping, Stalking, Clingy behavior, Threats, Possessive behavior, Slight delusional behavior, Attempted mind break, Isolation, Stockholm syndrome, Biting/Marking mentioned, Forced relationship, Violence, Sadism, Homelander is unhinged.

Homelander is a nightmare of a man.

Throughout the show we see him get more and more unhinged.

His own darling would feel like they're walking on eggshells around him.

Homelander, John, is easy to set off.

There's no one and nothing that can stop him as far as the people know.

Homelander struggles understanding the concept of love due to his upbringing.

Which makes his darling suffer when he attempts romantic feelings.

Or really any feelings of care at all.

Homelander is Obsessive, Possessive, Arrogant, Entitled, Intimidating, Temperamental, Manipulative, Sadistic, and Childish.

What makes him terrifying is what he can get away with.

Homelander can break the law and no one will stop him.

He can kill... he can kidnap... he can use his darling all he wants to chase this obsessive craving for love...

No one will do a thing.

Why?

He's fucking Homelander.

Homelander would at first try to ignore this obsession he has.

Even more so if you are not a Supe of any kind.

Although... Homelander will begin to crave this obsession he has.

Deep down he's vulnerable emotionally.

He craves some sort of affection, some sort of love...

Which is what pushes him to chase down his obsession no matter how you meet.

Homelander's obsession is moderate in growth, he tries to keep it in the back of his mind but it eventually bubbles up to annoy him.

So he has to do something.

Homelander would try to keep everything under the radar at first.

He is a man that likes to keep up appearances.

Homelander deals with his obsession by stalking at first.

Normally he wouldn't mind killing distractions... but he craves something from you.

Well... this makes Homelander stalk you for the time being.

He knows where you live, where you work, and he's determined to know everything.

Soon playing hero becomes the annoyance as all he wants to do is watch you.

Homelander is possessive but he disguises it as protective.

Before he acts on his obsession he still shows a strong desire to hide you away like some guilty pleasure.

He doesn't want you near Vought, he doesn't want you near Supes, and he certainly doesn't want you among the public.

When Homelander eventually kidnaps you he places you in a remote area.

The idea alone of someone else having you makes him want to level a city.

Homelander both wants to show you off yet hide you.

But he eventually decides to hide his obsession for now... for appearances.

You'll make him imperfect.

Homelander is going to force you to love him when he meets you/has you.

It comes off as overwhelming as The Homelander is obsessed with you.

You're quickly forced to give affection to him as he could kill you any second.

Homelander wouldn't mind if he managed to give you stockholm syndrome.

It only confirms that you're his.

Homelander would probably mark his darling due to being possessive, like biting for example, he's also suffocating with his need for affection.

You're as addicting as Compound V.

He needs you... so he'll make you need him.

Homelander lives off praise.

He allows his darling to call him by his real name when alone.

He also wants you to hold him and stroke his ego.

You can't ignore him.

He gets violent and annoyed if you do try to ignore him.

He feels he's entitled to you.

He's rough when kissing you and he manhandles you when holding you.

He has to be mindful of his strength as he can easily hurt you.

You have to remind him of that before he gets too eager.

His strength and tone alone intimidates you and others.

The moment he seems irritated you're scrambling to either calm him or run away.

You're one of the only things that calms him down.

He is monitoring you 24/7.

He's fast, he has X-Ray vision, he can hear everything you do.

Homelander is part of your life and you're going to like it.

Homelander has charisma due to being the leader of The Seven.

He can make you an outcast, he can threaten you not to leave him, and he can isolate you from everyone with a glare and subtle threat.

He's manipulative and you aren't sure if you can trust him ever at times.

You know he's a monster....

Homelander can be childish.

He'll tease you and force himself onto your lap for attention.

It's strange to see a man such as him act like a clingy child.

But he is not as innocent as a child.

Nothing close to that, actually.

Homelander would do things for you to earn your praise and affection.

He saved some people... he manipulated someone for you... he's killed for you....

He'd call you ungrateful if you hate what he does for you.

Homelander may break you mentally in isolation before showing you off to the public.

If you get too much attention then he has breakdowns and wants to isolate you again.

If someone stole you away?

They're dead.

He'll make it slow, too....

Homelander wants to show you to the public to confirm you're his.

You'll still be living in isolation... but you get to see the crowds, all dressed up in his aesthetic.

There's no escaping him... you can't.

Homelander is outmatched in strength and power.

He'd find you in seconds... and you'll be left to his mercy.

#yandere the boys #yandere homelander

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valeskawhore · 2 years

Text

Soulmate AU!

Featuring Homelander x Sm! Reader!

Plot: “In a world where two souls have an unbreakable bond linking both of their souls. But the only connection with one-another is through a red string tied to each’s ring fingers.”

He hates the string because he just finds it annoying. Why does it haft to glow all the fucking time?

Homelander believes the whole purpose behind this.. soulmate shit is wonderful! But having it constantly tied around his finger, tightening every so often is so. fucking. irritating.

Soulmates we’re rare anyways. Commonly more in supes than humans but there’s always that one percent.

Having everyone constantly stare and gawk your right hand all the time is creepy.

Not to mention the questions… don’t get him started on the questions!

“Have you met your soulmate yet?”

“What does the string feel like?”

“Can you take it off?”

“I bet I can undo that knot!”

“Are you still single?”

Nonononononono! Fuck off!

His business is his business! Everyone else needs to mind their own! It doesn’t matter if hasn’t found them yet! They exist! And the string is proof!!

Some nights, he’ll get really lonely and start pulling at the string. He’d wrap it around his finger and hold it tight to his chest as a reminder that your out there and one day hopefully…

You’ll be wrapped in his arms at his side where you belong.

He should’ve snipped the string a long time ago and ended the suspense but he just couldn’t! He’s thought about it so much it should be something he’s ashamed of right now.

What if he’s disappointed and dissatisfied with his soul mate? You’re gonna haft to be perfect in his eyes.

He’s the fucking Homelander! He deserves only the best!

Or Atleast that’s his first thoughts…

When he meets you tho, your everything he’d ever want and he didn’t even know it. You fit his every criteria and help him in so many more ways than one.

You’re the assistant of Stan Edgar.. whom is the ceo of vought so it’s kinda a big deal..

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Stan loves you very dearly and he holds you very close to his heart. Rest assured, you’re under all kinds of protection.

Stan originally keeps you from Homelander at all costs. He does everything in his power to shield you away from that blue eyed devil and keep you with him.

But.. everything has to come out eventually..

You were on your way back from a doctors appointment when Stan had texted you to pick him up some coffee on the way to back.

You said- what the heck and stopped at a small cafe around the corner from vought. It was only 11 and still pretty earlier since your appointment ended sooner than you thought it would.

Because It was originally supposed to end around 12:30, that’s the time you and Stan had set for bowling but you decided to pick his coffee up anyways and make a beeline to vought so you could pick him up directly after his meeting.

Ashley stopped you in the door,

“Woah woah woah miss l/n, where do you think you’re going? Mr. Edgar isn’t done yet so-“

“Ashley we’ve been over the fact that I don’t give a fuck- and I- huh?” The string around your finger started to tighten and pull towards the door to the seven’s main room where Stan was.

Ashley panicked, still trying to shove you as far from the door as possible but fell in the process, spilling both her and Stan’s coffee all over herself. Now was your chance-

Homelander heard the commotion from outside the door and stood to answer it but Stan stopped him.

The string tightened.

“Homelander you fucking man-child, do not answer that door.”

No need, because you opened it from the other side anyways.

Bursting into the room and the first person you made eye contact with was shockingly… Homelander? What was he doing here—?

Wait… DUH… it’s VOUGHT— not like he works here or anything-

It didn’t matter because something felt as though it was pulling you towards him.. your eyes locked in place with each others and suddenly the commotion going on around the both of you— no longer mattered anymore in the moment.

You were lost in his soul and he was lost in yours.. the most he could do was mumble out about how you were his soulmate and how much he was captivated by your beauty.

He took you all in and you did the same.. is this really the man you were destined to be with?

He was head over heels for you already but you couldn’t help but rethink everything you had ever been taught about your soulmate.

Second thoughts— second thoughts— second thoughts— second thoughts—

But the strings had bounded with each other’s and braided down the middle, locking your souls for all eternity.

It was done and decided the moment you walked through that door…

•~•~•~•~•~•

He loves you.. mostly..

You had very strong opinions about stormfront being in a hospital bed inside his room at the vought tower.

She was supposed to be locked up in some disclosed location somewhere around the fucking Bermuda Triangle for all you gave a shit- so why the fuck!? Is she here!???

He didn’t like that you don’t approve of his pet but who could blame you?? Why the actual fuck is he still aquatinted with the nazi?

She worried you for a bit before she chewed off her own tongue and committed suicide.. leaving americas sweetheart to go off the deep end.

You didn’t give a shit, still don’t.

Then when Homelander flipped the fuck out on you about having something to do with her death. You lost all love for him and packed your bags, sending him a final middle finger before leaving vought and going back to Stan.

Stan approved for your antics and believed they were fully justified. He gave you all access to protection from homelander until finally the devil himself showed up on his front doorstep, begging to talk to you.

He got on his knees for one part in his speech and ohhhh lordddd Stan was amused.

Coming out of hiding, you gently pushed Stan out of the way and decided to listen to what John had to say.

Stan threatening him in the background but yannooooo-

You finally came to conclusion that Homelander has a lot of issues that aren’t exactly broadcasted on the news for the world to see. That the American idol was someone else behind closed doors and that if you wanted any kind of life with him at all, you’re both gonna haft to work through somethings.

Trust for one and privacy for another.

Homelander is constantly stuck up your ass whenever he’s bored or just has nothing to do. It’s like he’s your kid more than your partner.

He loves watching ‘ A day in the life of a non supe!’ Seriously tho, how is your life sooooooo boring??

He’ll try to help make it more exciting and if it gets just a little too extreme like him bringing a whole ass supervillain into your work place for some kind of excitement— you’re gonna have to explain him that your boring human life is exactly what you want.

You don’t want no supervillains or press crawling up your ass 24/7, you’re happy with the way things are.

Explain these things to him and sure enough, you’ll both eventually be happy.

Two story house with a white Pickett fence, a crusty dog and kids running around while he barbecues around back— the American dream!!

Seriously tho, I think you both would work out fine. He just needs reassurance and proof that you actually love him and are happy.

<3333333

#yandere homelander #the boys #homelander imagines #homelander x reader #homelander #the boys x reader #amazon

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

Note

Please can I get a Voyeur 3 with homie I feel it fits him very much (pls make it fluffy if u can cause I love soft homelander)

You feel his eyes on you like a prickle at the back of your neck. You're not sure exactly when you developed this sixth sense of yours, but at some point during the course of your relationship with him, you just began to feel when he was near.

Sighing, you lower your camera and look over your shoulder, up into the night sky. "John," you say under your breath, quiet enough for his ears alone. "You're distracting me." As a private investigator, you're accustomed to city life at night. Not much unsettles you, but time and time again, John has made it clear how distinctly uncomfortable it makes him that you roam about the underbelly of the city by yourself. You hear the flutter of his cape before you see him. Looking around the darkened alleyway, you stop when you see his silhouette emerge from the shadows. You slip your camera into your bag. He doesn't even have the decency to look sheepish at being caught yet again.

"You are getting awfully good at that," Homelander says sincerely, albeit a touch irritated. Clearly he preferred it when he could stalk you undetected. "I've had a lot of practice," you shoot right back, tipping your head back as he closes in on you. The way he kisses you, like he hasn't had a taste of you in days instead of hours, makes your stomach flip. You put a hand on his chest to ease him back. "But I am working, darling." "I wish you wouldn't," he grumbles, a point he has made several times before. "But since you insist, you could at least let me protect you in peace. If I don’t keep an eye on you, who knows what will happen?" Endeared, you beckon him close with a wag of your finger, kissing him again when he comes near enough. "You know, if you agreed to wear anything other than this very primary, very conspicuous super suit, I might. But I don't think I could trust you on a stakeout." Homelander hums through a smile, his hands settling on your hips, pulling you in against him. "Why's that?" "You're incapable of keeping your hands to yourself." He's proving your point even as you speak, his hands sliding from your hips to your ass. He grins, giving your ass a firm squeeze. "You didn't mind last night." "I wasn't working last night," you laugh, the end of it swallowed when he kisses you again, even hungrier than before. When you try to speak, he just uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

He has a way of making you forget that the rest of the world exists. The taste and smell of him overwhelm your senses, wholly replacing the acrid city stink of the alley from your mind. You forget about the cement you'd been standing on when he hauls you up, wrapping your legs around his waist while he continues to kiss you senseless. "If anything happened to you, I'd lose my mind," he murmurs fervently against your lips. You can feel from the heat of him that he's already thoroughly worked himself up. He wraps one arm firmly around your waist while he squeezes your thigh with his other hand. "You make me fucking crazy." You tip your head back and suck in a breath of cool night air, shivering at the heated press of his lips to your neck. He's like an animal, nuzzling and biting at your throat, marking up what's his. Fuck it, you'll catch up with your quarry later. You know there isn't a chance he's letting you go now. "Take me home, John," you whisper, pushing your hands into his hair. He's already lifting into the air, holding you tight. "Show me how crazy I make you."

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #yandere homelander #sorry this was hornier than it was fluffy HAHA #i'm in a Mood #i wrote this as a break bc i am a fool and have somehow started TWO SEPERATE kidnapping yandere homelander fics #they're very different flavors tho so #one is like a parasocial romance he started with you in his head and it's from his pov #and the other is an established romance from reader pov #my writing #fluff

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after-witch · 2 years

Text

Yandere Homelander x Vought Employee Reader Scenario (continued)

Synopsis: Imagine that you're an employee at Vought who has become the girlfriend of Homelander against your will. Follow up to this scenario.

Word count: 3001

notes: yandere, forced relationship, unwanted romantic advances, sexual harassment, violence, reader is asexual and semi-aromantic

Imagine that you're an employee at Vought who has become the girlfriend of Homelander against your will.

You told Homelander that you thought the relationship had been manufactured, that it was a marketing scheme concocted by the bright minds at Vought to boost Homelander's popularity among the masses. You told him you were asexual, that you weren't really interested in him romantically.

You thought he would be mad. You thought you might get fired. You even thought, briefly, that something worse might happen–Vought wasn’t known for forgiving those who pissed off the all-important Homelander.

But you didn't think Homelander would simply insist that you were dating, and leave you with the clear threat and all the implications buried underneath: you are dating him, and you will continue dating him. There’s no way out of this for you.

At least not a way that doesn't end with something dark and terrible.

Since that evening, you've tried to pretend that nothing happened. That you didn't try to break up with him. That he didn't make you feel like you were walking in front of him on a tightrope above a very steep ravine, ready to fall down the second he decided to give you a firm push.

The elephant in the room, as they say, was being ignored.

Not that nothing changed between the two of you. Oh no. They have. Homelander has become even more affectionate with you.

He’s constantly demanding to be held and touched. He insists you sit down on the sofa so that he can place his head on your lap, and you learn very quickly to card your fingers through his hair. He hugs you; after the first time, you longer have to be told to wrap your arms around him and return the gesture.

Sometimes when he hugs you, you remember his words, you remember his threats. You remember that he could snap your ribs as easily as you rip up a piece of paper.

He puts his arm around you in public, guiding you with his strength, not that you’d ever be stupid enough to truly fight him on this. He presses you closer, and not just when you’re posed in front of the cameras.

You’ve never kissed someone so much in your life. Kissing has practically become a ritual–when you first see him and if you ever have to leave his side are just the bare minimum. He kisses you for photo-ops, though you’ll at least be grateful that these kisses are often chaste. You suppose most people might see them as “cute.”

When you’re alone, his kisses are domineering, desperate. Like he’s telling you that your his and no one else’s, but he’s afraid at the same time that you’re not really listening to him.

His affection makes you feel oppressed and compressed, trapped and bound. It makes you want to fling your arms out and run free from him, from Vought, from all of it.

But you can't. Not if you want your job. Not if you want to be safe. And there's your family to think about. If Homelander threatened you (but what did he threaten you with? You couldn't say, not explicitly; that's why you can't even tell someone what happened) then he might consider your family fair game, too.

So you have to--have to--stick things out. For your sake. For theirs.

Whenever your brain gets the not-too-bright idea to fight back a little–to insist that you don’t feel like snuggling, to pull away from a hug before he’s ready… well. All it takes is the tiniest nudge of his strength and you fall into line.

The worst part is that he doesn't exactly do anything you can heartily complain about. Kissing is as far as he goes. He hasn't touched you sexually or tried to, not since you tried explaining to him that you didn't have sexual interests.

One day, he asks you to sit down on the sofa. You try to relax, preparing for him to lay down in your lap again, but instead he sits next to you and sets down a stack of books on the coffee table.

Your eyebrows practically shoot off your head when you realize they’re all books about modern sexuality.

When you look at him, you can’t hide your bewildered expression, and he offers a little laugh. He presses his lips in a thin smile and raises his own eyebrows.

“I know, I know, the last thing a hero like me needs to do is stick my nose in a book.” It’s not at all what you were going to say, but you don’t tell him that.

“I’ve been reading up on this whole…” He gestures with his hands in that way he does, vague confusion in his movements. “Asexuality… thing you talked about.” He opens one of the books, flips through it absentmindedly. “And okay, so maybe you’re not making it up.”

You can hear buzzing in your ears. That horrible metaphorical elephant in the room is outside the door, and Homelander apparently wants to let it in–but how safe is it to actually talk about what you said that night?

“I don’t pretend to understand most of it,” he says, setting the book down. You’re surprised he’d admit to that, but you are alone together, after all. “But what I do understand from all this is that you can still be in a relationship, even if you aren’t interested in sex.”

And there it is, you think.

“So.” There’s a matter-of-fact tone to his words. Like he’s talking down to you, telling you something you should simply accept.

“You can be my girlfriend, and you can love me. And I’m fine with no sex, just the…” He shakes his head, and his lips are pursed, but not unpleasantly. More like it’s awkward to say. Or perhaps awkward to admit. “Stuff we’ve been doing.”

He takes your hands in his, and he doesn’t squeeze hard, he doesn’t hurt you. But there’s a firmness in his grip that reminds you of the evening you told him that you weren’t interested in dating. A reminder.

“And you’re fine with all that stuff too, right?”

You wish you could be totally honest. You wish you could tell him that this entire relationship was a mistake from the start. You wish he’d sigh and understand and let you go and chalk this all up to a big misunderstanding. You’d even be okay with being fired–you’d have to move back in with your parents and job hunt all over again, but you could manage.

You wish that was a potential option, but you know it’s not. Not with how attached Homelander has become. Not with how possessive he is over you, even though you’ve been quietly submitting to all of his demands as of late.

There’s something you’ve learned about Homelander over these past few weeks. You’ve seen the side of him that craves affection to an almost desperate degree. A side that craves touch and reassurance and something that feels genuine, real, humble; something that isn’t a glitzy Vought-arranged press conference with cameras flashing and a hoard of adoring fans waiting just outside the security gates.

He wants you to love him. He wants you to stick by his side. He wants you to be there for him in a way nobody else is or perhaps ever was. Not Vought. Not even the other Supes. Maybe even Maeve wasn't there for him like this, you think, and you're surprised that the thought makes him more pitiful. You’re scared of him, yes. But you pity him, too.

But pity isn’t enough to make you love him. Pity isn’t enough to wipe away the uncomfortable fluttering in your stomach when you kiss or when he wraps his arm around you before leading you into a restaurant paid for on Vought’s expense.

You’re not fine with it. But you can live with it. And when you’re working in the circle of Vought, that’s as close as you’re going to get.

So your mind desperately reaches for how other people would react in this situation. Your entire life, you’ve had to watch how other people interact and copy what they do–it was necessary to advance, necessary to survive. Figuratively and now, maybe literally.

And so… you smile, and you nod your head, and you grip his hands back like you’re understanding him, like you're the girlfriend he wants you to be right now: someone who is slowly but surely warming up to him. Someone who is going to love him.

You glance back down at the books that he left on the table. Did he really read through them? He skimmed them, maybe. But still. It’s more than other people have done–more than your parents have done, since they refused (and still refuse) to consider you anything but someone who “hasn’t met the right person yet.”

At least… at least he’s considerate, on that front? He seemed genuine, if awkward, when he said he’s fine sticking to the “other stuff.” Your mind clings to this small consolation in the sea of bullshit that you’ve been navigating with him.

With the conversation over, he finally settles back into his usual position, and your hand shakes just a little when you begin to gently stroke his hair.

“You’ll never guess what I had to put up with today..” He begins, and you only half pay attention, murmuring assent to his venting to keep him satisfied.

Despite his constant need to be touching you–hugging and kissing and holding–-Homelander sticks true to his word on the sex front. He doesn’t even bring it up like he used to, before you tried to leave him. All he does is ramp up every other form of affection he can take from you. Sometimes you feel like he needs it to breathe, and you’re not sure that you’re exaggerating.

When you’re feeling like your personal bubble no longer exists, you find that public events are a little more tolerable than being in private, because Homelander doesn’t exactly want “cuddling” to be in the radar of his public persona.

That’s why you’re almost looking forward to the party tonight. Some corporate evening gala thrown by Vought in a bid to attract some lucrative corporate sponsors. You’ll be expected to be on Homelander’s arm, sure, but there’s no time or room for unnecessary intimate affection that sometimes makes you feel like a treasured object in Homelander’s grasp rather than an individual person.

It goes as expected… at first. Homelander keeps his arm around you and guides you around the room as he walks from Important Person to Important Person. The CEO of the company. The media coordinator. The CEO’s son, who’s Homelander’s Biggest Fan and Clearly Up Past His Bedtime. Homelander signs an autograph with a grin that feels plastic compared to the expressions you see when the two of you are alone. No one else notices. Or cares, if they do.

And then Ashley approaches Homelander with an expression that says she expects the worst and tells him that the CEOs want him to join them in a private room… alone. She looks at you with something resembling an apology, as if she hates to tear the two of you apart. Maybe she does, considering how much more reasonable Homelander is when you’re on his arm.

Homelander grips you tighter for just a moment before he releases your arm and gives you a tight frown. “I’ll be back soon. Just…” He points towards the tables of hor-duerves, platters of bite-sized meals and stacks of champagne classes. “Get a drink or something.”

It’s not a bad idea. Drinking helps you loosen up, not to mention cope with the stress. So you grab a flute of champagne and sip. It’s nice stuff. Nicer than you could ever afford. The dress you’re wearing is also far beyond your means. The makeup on your face is high-end, handpicked by your new Vought appearance team. You’re pretty sure even the hairspray they spritzed over you is pricey.

Is it wrong to enjoy these perks? Is it any different from enjoying your high salary working for Vought in the first place? Except instead of performance bonuses and overtime, you’re getting the perks for being with Homelander.

You’re pondering all of this when someone approaches you. It’s someone you don’t recognize; he must be from one of the other companies.

As soon as he speaks, you realize that he’s more than a bit tipsy.

“I’ve seen you on the news,” he says, grabbing another glass of champagne. He doesn’t need it, but you don’t tell him so.

You smile thinly. “Oh?” A quick glance around, but there’s no one from Vought rushing to your side to make sure you’re saying the right words. They’re all too busy or too drunk.

“Oh?” The man says, mocking your voice in a high falsetto. Your stomach twists. You look, without intending to do so, in the intention Homelander walked earlier.

You turn away, but the man steps in front of you, keeping you in his sights. “Seriously… you think you’re something real special, huh? Just ‘cause you’re dating Homelander? Think you’re better than everyone else, I bet.”

You begin to realize why Homelander’s smile is so plastic as you keep yours planted on your face. “No, I don’t think I’m special. If you’ll excuse me…” You keep your face flat. You just want him to go away.

You try to leave again, try to catch eyes with someone, anyone, who will come over and get this guy off your ass. No such luck.

“I’m not excusing you,” the man says, and he sets his drink down before stepping closer, gripping your upper arm and almost looming over you. It’s cartoonish. You can’t step back without pushing into the table of stacked glasses, so you freeze up. “Seriously. All those photos of you smiling, the inane tweets about your relationship–” You wonder what this man would say if he realized all those tweets were written by a PR social media intern, and you haven’t touched your own Twitter since this began. “--I bet you got a cushier job at Vought because of it, didn’t you? That wouldn’t fly at our company. No way, no fucking way.”

You’re desperately thinking of how to get this man away without causing a scene when a figure enters your peripheral vision.

It’s Homelander. And he looks absolutely pissed off.

“Hey there.”

The man immediately releases his grip on your arm, and stumbles back, startled.

The second he turns, Homelander’s face goes from raw fury to that smooth plastic grin that he’s sported all night.

“Having a conversation with my girlfriend, huh buddy? Well, I hate to break it to you, but this lovely lady is taken.” He says it so casually, so teasing, that the man’s worried expression breaks into an awkward smile.

“Sorry about that,” the man says. “Just uh, had a little too much tonight.” He takes a few more steps back, looking between you and Homelander, before he wanders off.

Homelander turns back towards you and fear rises in your gut. He’s possessive. You know this. And he just caught you talking with another man. He just caught you letting another man touch you. But that’s not how it happened, your mind reasons. The guy touched you without permission. But Homelander wouldn’t be the first man to see it that way, would he?

But instead of getting in your face and hissing about what just happened, he casually puts his arm around your shoulders and leads you out of the room. He ignores an assistant’s frantic calls–”Sir, sir, where are you going?”--and leads you to an empty conference room. The door clicks shut behind him, and you prepare for the worst.

“What the hell was that?” He says.

“I’m sorry–” You begin, but your words die in your throat at the dark expression on his face.

“You don’t ever put up with some creep talking to you. You understand me?” He practically wags his finger in your bewildered face. “You should have flagged down one of the assistants. Hell, flag down Ashley if you have to next time.”

“I don’t understand,” you say. “Aren’t you mad at me?”

He looks at you like you’ve just told him that you’ve grown two heads.

“Mad at you? Because some jealous asshole is pissed about–Twitter followers or whatever?” He presses his hand between his eyes, closing them and sighing. “Listen. You don’t have to put up with people talking down to you anymore.”

He approaches you, and pulls you into his arms, keeping you just far away to look you in the eyes as he speaks. “You're the Homelander's girlfriend. You're my girlfriend. You don't have to put up with any more bullshit. No more guys making creepy remarks, no one talking down to you, no one treating you like shit. Okay?”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, to your cheeks, then to your lips. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you tell him, quietly.

You may not have to put up with guys harassing you. You may not have to endure the ass slaps and patronizing comments in the workplace.

But you do have to deal with something that has the potential to be far more dangerous than any of those things. You don’t know which is worse.

A few hours later, curled up in Homelander’s bed, scrolling on your phone, your Twitter feed is suddenly pinging with news of local man found murdered. Horribly brutalized, beaten to death.

You wouldn’t have recognized him by the post-mortem photograph quickly shared around social media—a snapshot by someone in the crowd that quickly gathered around when his body was discovered. It’s only because the news links include the photograph from the driver's license found on this body that you recognize the man from the party at all.

Beside you, Homelander sleeps soundly.

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