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The superhero has been busy, but technically you have too. The stress of your job working for Vought, trying to find a new apartment for months before landing on the one you've been looking for forever, and so on. You're dreading packing and endless papers so you decided to go out as a reward for being a responsible adult.
Sadly, you never would guess who would be lurking there watching and waiting.
“I'm just not looking forward to packing… It just shows how much I hoard things.” You sigh longingly, swiveling the alcohol around in the cup as your friend laughs at that. The location you were moving into wasn't bad, though, you'd rather not think about it while you're in this high energy bar to not ruin the mood.
Talking to your friend, a man with blonde hair appears next to you. There's something about him you couldn't place your finger on, giving him a side eye trying to analyze him without being noticed but you already were. He has some scruff, wearing a simple black button up with jeans, sunglasses perched on his nose as he gives a side smile to the bartender. Let alone, he has an accent that's genuinely attractive and it makes your ears burn.
Looking back at your left, your friend has already disappeared with another guy and you sigh to yourself. You hope the guy doesn't start a conversation with you, only thinking about Homelander and patiently waiting for him to come back so you could force him to help you move. The guy beside you pushes his sunglasses up to push his hair back, eyes scanning the area before landing on you.
Still, he looks so familiar but you just don't know who. “You really remind me of someone.” You blurt out, not sure why you're starting a conversation with him but you couldn't help it.
“I've heard that a lot when I moved here.” He says it casually, his accent thick and it makes your heart skip a beat over it.
“Sorry, I'm sure it's annoying that people say it so often.” You quickly apologize, putting your hands up in defense and he smiles slightly at your comment. You noticed the sharp canine tooth, your eyebrows furrowing together more as the small details trickle more into your brain.
“Don't be, sweetheart. You have nothing to be sorry about.” He pats your hand, though, his voice comes off a little dark and before you could say something, your friend jumpscares you.
She's apologizing for disappearing but she can't think straight when the man beside you is giving her narrowed eyes to make her go on. She's a little uncomfortable by his stare, noticing he's becoming protective over you and she gives you a look to signal it. You tilt your head at that, looking at him to bite back but he just smiles sweetly and looks straight ahead while drinking.
You shrug back at your friend, telling her to go on already with the guy she's hooking up with. She's not too sure, the guy beside you being awfully protective over you but lets out a breath when you keep saying you'll be fine. She takes your word, kissing your temple as she always does before walking out with the guy she found.
“You’re dumb for thinking I wouldn't know.”
“Took you long enough.” His voice changes, a regular American accent as he sighs, almost like he was struggling to keep the other one going.
Laughing in a sarcastic tone, you grit your teeth. “You've been gone for a while and you think I’d be okay?” You snap, your voice in a whisper but it's harsh. He rolls his eyes at your reaction, leaning back into his chair with a huff.
His blue eyes are sparkling with mischief, but it's the same blue eyes you missed seeing a lot of times. They were bright and icy almost, luring you in by a simple glance.
Inhaling shakily, recalling the memories of missing him. “I fucking missed you.” You whisper, tears welling up in the corner of your eyes and he purses his lips together in a thin line. Here it was, the waterworks he always hated seeing from you because you were the only human he would tolerate.
He stands up, making you believe he was going to walk out but it was a totally different reaction. His arms wrap around your body, engulfing you into his embrace and this wasn't the same Supe you're used to. You're frozen in this moment, only smelling his familiar scent and cologne you almost forgot about, too aware of his stubble scratching on your head and how his body moved when he breathed.
“I know.”
He barely says it out loud through the loud talking around the place, but you heard it from his chest. This wouldn't last, knowing his tendencies fly in and out, his mental health deteriorating at a fast rate from his God complex kicking in. You nestle your face more into his throat, wanting to remember this version of him forever— the human version of himself that was more rare than a piece of diamond.
You're at your place, non stop apologizing about the mess in your place from the boxes and whatnot but he never said anything. He's quiet, looking around at the familiar furniture that would soon be somewhere new in a week or two and it oddly bothers him. You're starting a new era without him there, looming over you to make sure you're crossing your T’s and dotting your I's just so-so in the way he likes.
“You were gone for a few months and a few weeks.”
He looks at you, his eyes wide before narrowing down at you. “You say it like I was gone for five years.” He huffs, a sarcastic smile appearing across his face and he completely ignores how your heart is beating stronger and you feel the uncontrollable anger and anxiety with him in front of you.
“You just got up and left, how can I not be upset?” You bark back, slamming your hand on the table beside you and he lets out a low noise of disapproval.
He's walking closer to you, his demeanor changing drastically and you're going to hold your ground. Being with him you've accepted your fate of dying by his hands, always prepared even when you die he’d be the last thing you see and you've accepted this deal with him. He likes that though, noticing you’re holding yourself straight but he can see your heart is pounding from anger.
He reaches out, cupping the side of your face and you let him. His calloused thumb soothingly rubbing your cheekbone like all the times you've done it to him during his meltdowns. There's something dancing behind his eyes, almost as if he's entranced to touch you again. To feel you again, to see your heart skip a beat when the dots connected that you recognized it was him beside you at the bar. You're just a stupid little animal, something so fragile in his hands he could snap like a twig and hold your dead body close to his chest.
He was the wolf, and you were the naïve deer.
“You're starting a new life without me.” He finally speaks up, his voice gentle but it's oozing with venom. You knew he'd be butthurt once he saw the boxes, jumping to conclusions you're leaving him alone in a dark, secluded room.
Feeling like it was pointless to nag at everything he says, you mentally agree to your loss of the battle. “I'm not. I'm moving closer to Vought.” Grumbling, you lean your head into the palm of his hand and he frowns at it. Your eyes roll at his expression, hating him like this.
Holding his hand in your own, it makes him walk closer to you and tower over your own height. “Johnny, I can be closer to you.” Cooing, you kiss his wrist right where his heart pulses and his body shivers.
His eyes are scanning everywhere but the person before him. “I told you before, you don't need to go anywhere because I’ll find you.” He mutters back, his heart oddly tensing at the idea you’d be closer to his work place. You smile slightly at that little promise, wishing his good side would stay at all times.
“I wish you were like this all the time.” Mumbling the words out like a prayer, his face flinches at the secret you've kept hidden for a while and he doesn't know how to respond. You were just a stupid human messing with a God like him, only knowing the tip of the iceberg of his true insanity.
You find him in your bed hours later, the two of you barely speaking and he's nestled himself into your embrace. The familiar warmth of your body holding him close, letting him suckle on your two fingers to lure him to sleep. You would never deny it was weird and uncomfortable when he did it without asking first, but you soon grew accustomed and just decided it only helped his trauma to ease some.
“I really like your facial hair, you know.” You whisper out, playfully scratching under his chin and he hides himself into your abdomen to make you stop. “I didn't know you were a brunette, Johnny.” Chuckling at his acting, you decide to play with his hair and you finally notice his roots have grown out a lot. You were a little puzzled at yourself for not noticing sooner, but you assume since you were distracted you just didn't see it.
When he pulls back, you immediately wipe your fingers on his shoulder and he only sighs. “I don't want to dye my hair.” He mutters, “I don't want to be Homelander anymore.” Admitting his troubled thoughts, you coo him to sleep and he doesn't even fight with you about it.
You notice his eyes turning red in and out, almost as if he's angry at himself and you just coax him to relax.
A few weeks down the road and he's changed back to his normal self. The platinum blonde hair was back with no signs of his brunette hair, his facial hair gone to where it makes him look like he can't even grow it. The sarcasm, the lies, the hatred for others were all back and it made your stomach twist sometimes. Even the suit was back to haunt you, making you remember Homelander was back home against your will.
You two have been bickering nonstop for a couple of days, you telling him he needs to get his act straightened up but he doesn't see it that way. You're being mean to him, forgetting who's the one in charge and it definitely wasn't you. Even through the arguing he was still quite protective over you, daring anyone to try anything with you or even speak to you. He knew you were messing around, finding you sneaking out against his consent and it was irking him.
So, like any other reasonable person, he killed the man to make you learn.
You're standing in the large hallway, talking to another coworker about the Seven and Homelander appears with the fakest smile plastered on his face.
“You, now.”
He points directly at you, his pointing finger beckoning you over and you just smile and tell him alright. You two had a reputation and no one needed to know you've been arguing like two dogs in a kennel.
He grabs your wrist as you two walk, holding it a little tighter than he should but you put a brave face on. He lures you into the conference room, finding it completely empty and you're not sure what this would lead to now but you make a point to not show your anxiety was peaking the more you stayed around him.
“What the fuck is your problem?” You ask, throwing your binder onto the large, glass table behind you.
“What's my problem?” He asks back in a seething tone, his jaw clenched from anger boiling inside of him rapidly and you knew this wasn't going to end well.
“I'm not repeating myself, John.” Barking back, he’s now capturing you into the table so you can't escape.
“Don't fucking call me that, missy.” Homelander’s voice raises, grabbing ahold of your chin and you're glaring at him. Grabbing a hold of his wrist, you yank his hand off of you and his eyes are dark and stormy. Something was swirling inside of him, something you're bringing out against his will and you may actually die today.
“Don't act like you don't fucking want me.” Sneering through clenched teeth, his face begins to scrunch up from anger. He finally had you where he wanted, treating you like some type of prey while he's the predator.
You looked so angry and so tiny under his body as he kept you trapped against the glass table. He wants to break you and tear you limb from limb like a wolf who's starving. He wants to feel your blood gushing through his teeth, easing him down from a climax of being so worked up. It's not fair, your body teasing his thoughts and you purposely wearing shirts that showed a little cleavage to play with his mind for the rest of the day. It's just not fair he finds people flirting with you, you smiling back at their compliments when it should be him fucking you in the damn building.
You finally realize what's wrong with him and it's only because he can't have you to himself like he wants.
“You're so jealous, you look stupid.”
Your words are spat out like venom before immediately feeling guilt swim up your stomach when he grabs your shoulder with lightning speed to slam your back into the table. Faintly, you hear the glass crack a little from his strength but you're more focused on him deciding to kill you or not as your spinal cord screams in agony.
“I'm not.” He actually hisses out, his eyebrows quirking up with a grin appearing on his face that you'd say that to him. “I’m not jealous.” He mumbles, leaning down to look closer into your eyes and you actually feel a small heat begin to burn between your legs.
“Then tell me why I found out that the guy I saw a while back died a few days ago.” You ask in a deadpan voice, wincing when he shoves you more into the cracking glass.
You're pushing your limits with him and the thread between you two is barely there to keep you two from not killing each other.
He lets out a wheeze of a laugh, shaking his head at your pathetic tales. “You have the nerve to say this… this shit to me.” He laughs, “Talking to your superhero like you're above him.” Homelander mutters, holding your face but it sends shivers up your spine because it didn't feel right.
“I could kill you right now.” He mumbles, noses barely touching and you're forced to stare into his red eyes.
Reaching closer to his face, you’re now showing your teeth as your noses are pressed together. “Then do it, asshole. Kill me and give a fake story of how I was burned.” Snapping, you were so angry towards him you just wanted him to kill you to get out of this.
You wanted to be finally set free from his never ending lies and insanity but you knew he wouldn't. He won't do it because there is a dirty, shriveled anemic piece of him who still cares for you. It’s the same story but different font each time you two spiral like this, where one day you may not make it out alive.
Homelander hums at the thought, though it doesn’t feel as good when the person begs to be killed. “If you want to die so badly I will be more than glad to take you up to the rooftop.” Homelander promises, knowing exactly how to get under your skin.
He’s lost it, though, you believe he has lost it years ago and it’s just become too hard to keep it under control anymore. Swallowing thickly, you look away for a moment but he forces you to look back at him.
“Tick tock, babe. We don’t have all day to watch your pathetic body bounce on the ground from the rooftop.”
Homelander barks, standing up to straighten his back and force you to stand up next. Your head is rushing with thoughts, genuinely curious if he would let you fall off and die. You start to believe you’re becoming just as insane, taking his promise and asking him to take you up there. Homelander’s stupid smile fades, his facial expression faltering for a moment.
He was only bluffing, getting on your nerves and pushing you to the limit but he can’t back down now. He was Homelander, he kept promises and this wasn’t something ordinary for you to agree to. If he thinks about it long enough, you two have never gone this far in a fight like this.
With that, he flies you up to the rooftop and stands behind you menacingly as you look up at the nighttime sky. “Honestly,” You begin, looking behind your shoulder as the wind picks up around you two. “Would you let me die?” You ask in a concerned voice, watching him slowly stroll up to you so you two can be closer.
He tilts his head, a smirk appearing. “No, no,” He sighs, letting out a breathless laugh and you find it dishonest. “I was bluffing, sweetheart.” He coos, grabbing your shoulders while you give him a worried look. Your heartbeat is beginning to rise, your hands becoming sweaty because you’re playing Russian Roulette with the reaper that stood in front of you.
“I was joking.” He stresses out, but you’re shaking your head.
You don’t notice he’s subtly making you step back more to the edge, giving you a warm smile. “I don’t want anything happening to you. That's why I came back.” He’s lying, his words swirling inside of your head and you feel the wind pick up more as you hear the cars swishing back and forth below you. Wanting to look down, he tsks at you to keep staring at him and you listen like a fool, taking his promises in. He’s leaning forward, closing the space and you’re barely breathing.
“Now fly.”
You blink and you’re rapidly falling down, screaming out his name and as the concrete welcomes you in with opened arms, you find Homelander quickly swooping down to catch you. Even after pushing you off the rooftop, your brain scatters over the memories of him being nice once in a fairy tale. You’re not sure how far the drop is but you can’t help but cry over Homelander has changed in the worst, pushing you off the rooftop to kill you without a second thought in his head. You should be quickly thinking about God and asking Him to save you but you’re stupid and foolish, recalling memories of Homelander when he wasn’t corrupted.
You finally got him back just a few weeks ago, coming up to you like a hurt, stray dog and you’re not sure why he’s become worse now he’s Homelander again. You see him push quicker down to save you, hands reaching you to grab you from the sidewalk but you hope he won’t. You hope with a faint smile he doesn’t catch you in time so you don’t have to live in this anymore.
Barely, just barely, you’re a foot away from the ground and you find yourself in his arms. Shaking and paralyzed in fear, you don’t take notice the people swarming around you two as you stare blankly ahead. Everything is sounding like it's underwater and slow motion, you barely listen to Homelander tell everyone you’re fine and he caught you just in time. You want to throw up badly, feeling like you almost hate that Homelander swooped down and maybe, just maybe , you wished he didn’t catch you.
Leaning over his arms, you threw up everything in your stomach making everyone jump back in disgust. Homelander grimaces but decides to not say a word, keeping a brave face in front of everyone. However, he does have some type of look towards you, almost as if he’s cursing to himself he saved a pathetic human who thought they had it all with him.
Not even hours pass and you’re already back into another argument with him. You’re sitting on your couch, the blanket wrapped around your body as he walks back and forth like a caged animal in the zoo.
“I should’ve just let you die.”
“Then why didn’t you?!”
“You’re just a pathetic piece of flesh that can’t even keep their food in their stomach. You embarrassed me in front of the crowd.”
The argument wouldn’t stop echoing in your head, not sure what made you two react this way. You couldn’t even look him in the face, still pondering why he’s still there in your apartment if he hated you so much. You really wished he let you die, watch your lifeless body bounce on the hard concrete just like he talked about. If he leaves, you may just walk yourself on top of a rooftop just to piss him off for good.
You won’t and you two knew it.
“I wish you would leave.” Finally, you find your voice to speak up and make him go, earning a hateful look from him.
“I will leave when I feel like it.” He says each word with pronunciation, making you more on edge as he glares down at you with fire in his eyes.
Finally snapping, you feel uncontrollably anger shake through your body. “My God, just leave me alone and go! Please, just leave me alone!” Yelling, your voice raises extremely loudly for the first time ever and he stands there in shock, never seeing you talk back like that.
“If you want me to leave, then I will.” Homelander says it cooly, keeping his temper down just to save the last bit of sanity you had left.
“But just know this,” Homelander walks around the coffee table to lean over your body to make himself look more intimidating in front of you. “Once I leave, I will never come back. Do you understand me?” Homelander whispers and his teeth are showing with aggression, clutching the couch pillow behind you in a death grip where the seams may just explode.
You don’t answer him quick enough, tears in your eyes he’s acting like this. “I said: Do you fucking understand me?!” He yells, barely blasting your ears and you wince.
“Yes, I fucking understand! Just get out of here!” You’re yelling back, throwing a pillow at his chest before standing up and punching him in the chest repeatedly. You’re blinded by rage, hating him with all your guts and he’s taking it.
He’s taking it and not even moving a muscle. It angers you more, wearing your body out before he finally grabs your hands to make you stop.
“You’re such a child.” Is all that Homelander can spit out, his voice low and dark, sending chills up anyone’s spine but it doesn’t this time for you. “Such a weak, pathetic, stupid child.” Seething, he pushes you back but with his strength and you’re thrown onto the coffee table before yelping out in pain.
“For God sake, stand up and fuckin' take it.” He pants out, pushing a strand of his hair away from his eyes.
Before you know it, he’s grabbing you by the shirt and pulls you up to stand. You’re wiggling in his grip, annoying him and he forces you more into the broken glass on the floor while you yell in pain. Shards are stabbing you in the back, oozing red liquid onto your wooden floors and Homelander is finding pleasure in it.
He crouches over your body, his hand grabbing the back of your skull to make you look at him. “Look at you, bleeding everywhere.” He says it in a way like he's disappointed, shaking his head at the sight.
“Like I ever asked for it.” Replying with disgust in your voice, you spit at him and Homelander snarls his teeth at you before wiping the spit off his cheek.
“You stupid bitch, I should just kill you.” Homelander barks back, shoving your head into the floor and you yell in pain.
Your vision blurs a little, choking on air for a moment as he breathes so hard his nostrils are flaring like a bull. Grabbing his wrist, he grimaces and yanks it back, not enjoying the sensation of a pathetic human touching him.
“Just kill me, Johnny. Please, just do it.” You breathe out, licking your bottom lip to make them less dry and he only stares.
Homelander can’t think of a response, hearing that name from you ruined his entire headspace whether he wanted to admit it or not. His jaw moves around, staring daggers into you and his eyes are slowly turning red in thought. Looking around all of the sudden, he finds your phone and throws it in your face, but you miraculously catch it even though you’re in pain.
“Call an ambulance and tell them you had a man come in here.” Homelander breathes out, beginning to pace because he’s thinking more of himself than you.
You’re confused, not sure what he’s meaning before he barks at you to call for an ambulance or he’ll kill you right now. Swallowing thickly, your bloody fingers couldn’t even type the passcode of your phone, making him more agitated.
“Give me that damn thing.” Homelander sneers, ripping the thing out of your hands. He calls them for you, shoving the phone into your ear and you wince at the pressure he’s putting into your skull.
“I… I need the hospital.” You gasp out, feeling like the shards are shoving themselves more into your back the more you breathe and talk. “A man,” Whimpering, looking straight at Homelander who was staring back at you with red eyes as a threat. “A man came into my apartment and threw me into the coffee table.” You finally finish it out, feeling almost like your vision is blacking out and you blink desperately.
The woman on the phone is asking questions you can’t answer with a damaged brain, not sure what was happening at this point. You swallow thickly, begging weakly just to send someone to your place and she does.
With the call being done with, Homelander throws the phone onto the couch above you and you feel tears form in your eyes once more. “I hope you really learned your lesson, little girl.” Homelander breathes out, walking to your balcony to fly off and you feel your eyes become droopy.
Last thing you recall is him walking away and looking back at you with an expression you can’t name from the top of your head. Sorrow? Guilt? Anger? You don’t know and maybe you never will because of your head being so foggy that night.
~ ~
You have scars on your back from the glass, making you remember every little detail of the horrors Homelander put you through. Your therapist was genuinely surprised you didn’t kill yourself after the traumatic events, pleased to hear you had a strong will for all of it. You wished you didn’t, you wished you killed yourself with the pain pills the hospital prescribed you with after you were let out. Gripping your thighs with tears slowly forming in your eyes, you hope you never saw him again. However, there is a part of you he finds you again and act like his old self.
“Do you have feelings for him?” Your therapist asks, staring directly at you and you scoff at that comment.
“After what Johnny has put me through?” You let out a sarcastic laugh, throwing one leg over the other as you sink more into the loveseat sofa. She hums at your response, writing something down that makes your brain itch over.
You never mentioned who Johnny exactly was, giving a roundabout answer he was an ex who was a domestic abuser and nothing more. Even though you should call out Homelander and make his life a living hell you don't because you still care for him. It makes you sick to your stomach, not believing you’d still cover for a person like him but here you were, covering his ass like he’d want.
Your therapist notices you're spiraling over him, clearing her throat at this. You look up from the floor, feeling your eyes burn from the tears that won't shed and her lips purse into a thin line. She knew what it was about without even asking, knowing all too well you still loved him. You loved your manipulator ex and it's pathetic.
You’re pathetic.
Inhaling shakily, you look away for a moment before looking back at her. “So what that I care about him still?” You ask, a threat wavering in your voice and she chuckles at your response because she figured you’d get where she’s coming from.
Pushing a stray piece of hair behind her ear, she hums in thought before replying. “It's normal for a victim to feel such things, you know. I'm not judging you for anything because you're valid inside this room at all times.” She murmurs back, looking down back at her notes while tapping her pen on the top of the clipboard.
It's irking you more than it should and your eyes roll at her response, not sure why you're doing this when you never wanted the help to begin with before the sudden growing ball forms in your throat.
“He was sweet once. He was-” You choke up on your spit, bottom lip trembling at the memories of when he was younger and starting out. “He was a good person. I don't know what happened.”
Straining out the words, you automatically reach for the tissues and whether you pretend to not notice or willingly get out of your hard headed ways, your therapist did care a lot about you and hated you're going through this. She had a reputation and it was a business so she had to keep a neutral face in times like these.
She leans over, grabbing your hand and you laugh dryly at her being sympathetic. “It's hard to come to terms with things like this. You’ll overcome this if you just let me help you.” She stresses the words, praying you’d let them sink in but the two of you knew you’d never let Johnny go even the day of when you die.
After the session, you bring yourself home and not have a single thought to process. You’re numb, you’ve lost your will to be yourself. You wanted him back and you’re awfully stupid to believe you’d get your old life back. You're standing in the kitchen waiting for the coffee to dribble out of the machine, your back turned to your living room.
You hear someone knock at your door, easily startling you out of your dissociation. Cautiously, you walk to the door and open it enough for your body to stand in. Your heart drops into your stomach, not sure if your brain is tricking you of who stood there. Homelander stood there in civilian clothes, the type of clothes you swore the night he came home in six months ago and you felt your throat close up.
“You haven't changed in the slightest.” He says those words like you two are best friends, acting completely normal while you're beginning to spiral right in front of him.
He smiles, tilting his head to the side and it's a silent question if you're going to let him in. Obliging, you carefully open the door more and let him inside, not being able to think straight. He’s looking around your new place, finding no signs of no one and not even a dog in this entire apartment. He supposes you really did learn your lesson six months ago, deciding to stay single until he lurks around and gets you to come back into his arms for a short while.
He turns around and faces you, baby blue eyes staring down at you and you oddly miss the sight. He clears his throat, scratching under his chin in thought and you see he let his facial hair grow out again. A little piece of you wonders if he disappeared from Vought, though, you can't seem to find your voice to ask a simple question.
“You're quiet, it's unnerving.” Homelander sighs, pretending to shudder but you can't find humor in this. He hurt you in ways you could never say, being relapsed with PTSD against your will.
You look away from him, mouth feeling dry and your back becomes hyper aware of the night you were thrown into the coffee table. It subconsciously aches, making you want to run your hand across your skin to calm down the ghost sensations. He’s noticing your weirdness, seeing your heart is speeding up in anxiety and stress, making him curious as to why you're acting like this.
You should be happy, right? Jumping into his arms and kissing him? What’s your problem? You wanted this moment to happen for six months and you're letting your chance slip away. You’re pathetic to let this go to waste.
“Where did you go to find me?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, recalling your last day at Vought you were moving away and never told anyone your location. You even changed your name to save yourself and here he was, inside your apartment in a different state.
He hums at your question, slowly beginning to circle you like a caged lion and it sends shivers down your spinal cord. “Oh, you know,” He begins, inching closer to you and your feet feel like they're stuck in a cement block. “I have my ways.” He replies back to your question, voice low and rumbling from his chest and you wish he’d leave so you can drive yourself into a tree.
You won't because you want to kiss him one last time and pretend it's the old Homelander. The sweet, passionate Johnny from a long time ago who almost seems like folklore. Subconsciously, you reach out to grab his hands and intertwine your fingers together. You have shallow breathing, feeling the familiar warmth of his palms pressing against your own. Your bottom lip is trembling, tears wavering in your eyes because he still felt the same as before.
“It's hard, isn't it?” Homelander asks quietly, “Moving on from the past and wishing your boyfriend never changed?”
He hits the spot in your heart to make you break, easily getting your body to shake out a sob deep from your chest, clutching his hands in a death grip where your nails may make him bleed. Looking up at him, the sunlight is hitting his face just right and it hurts you more than words could say; watching his eyes sparkle from it and how the shadows fall on his face just right to make him beautiful.
His eyebrows furrowed together, pulling a hand away from your grip to push your hair away from your eyes. “People change and you can't seem to grasp that.” He mutters, grabbing ahold of your face but it's gentle and you still jump at the action.
“You want the old me back so bad, you've become fucking delusional.” Homelander’s words begin to hurt, yet he’s wiping away your tears with his thumb while you stay quiet. You’re genuinely expecting him to lash out on you and throw you across the room.
He sighs heavily from his nose, looking irritated when he rolled his eyes at your crying. “Just this once,” He sneers, his pointer finger in your face to show it was honestly a one time ordeal. “I’ll feed into your delusions because I flew a long way to find you.” Homelander’s words seem harsh but he says it in a cooing tone, now holding your face in both hands where he could easily crush your skull if he wanted to.
“You’d like that, wouldn't you?” He’s playing with your heart, not giving a chance for you to say anything. “Forcing me to dig him out just for your enjoyment.”
He’s in your face, showing his teeth, his hands holding your face a little tighter and you wince at the pain. He stops, pulling away to look at you better and he thinks you're pretty when you're crying like this.
Stupid, fragile deer.
“Can the poor thing speak or do I need to voice myself louder?” He spits at you, eyebrows raised curiously and you let out a weak huff.
“I'm not delusional.” You finally spoke to him, pulling away from his hands and he finds humor in this, laughing at your lie.
“And I'm not God.” Homelander replies back, eyes narrowing when he crosses his arms over his chest. He’s looming over you, showing his dominance in this room and you subconsciously crawl into your shell.
Circling around you, he’s eyeing you up and down slowly to analyze anything different about your body. “You were never good at lies and I think I've told you that before.” Homelander whispers in your ear from behind, making your blood run cold but you’re finding an old, familiar feeling between your legs.
You inhale sharply through your nose, standing your ground with him but it's hard when he's pressing his body against your back. His hands start from your shoulder and move down your arms, feeling every inch of your body. His chin is perched upon your shoulder, pressing wet kisses along your jaw just the way you liked it and it makes you gasp under your breath.
Hands were on your chest, moving down to your sides and it felt like they were burning through your clothes and into your skin like cigarette smoke. It wasn't fair, Homelander recalling exactly what you liked and how you would fold for him with simple gestures.
One hand grabbed your hip to turn you around, pulling you into a slow, heated kiss as if you’re trying to reunite. His other hand is in your hair, tangling his fingers through it to pull you close as possible and you finally let out a pleased noise. You hear him breathe through his nose harshly, making you curious if he’s already worked up but you’re becoming distracted from him picking you up.
“Johnny, wait-” Panting, you hiding your face in his neck, closing your eyes in thought but he’s still carrying you to your bed.
“No more waits.” Johnny replies back, kicking your door open and you whimper at the noise before finding yourself on the bed.
He’s working on the buttons of his flannel shirt, staring directly at you but you want to help him out like you’ve two been doing this forever. Almost as if it's the old times for you. Leaning forward, you push his hands away and he chuckles at your antics.
“That's very, very sweet of you.”
He coos at you like you're a dog, however, the words go straight between your legs and you feel your mouth water. Johnny doesn't even get his shirt taken off, letting it sit on his shoulders while straddling your hips and pushing you down onto the mattress so he could have his control back. His fingers twist themselves around the waistband of your pants, playfully tugging at them until you raise your hips for him.
He says something unclearly under his breath, perhaps even a praise for you listening to him. You reach out to hold onto his wrists, your chest heaving in anticipation of what’s about to happen between you two. His hands are slithering up your legs, pressing the heel of his hands into your muscles, feeling the way they flinch under his touch. You inhale shakily, feeling your face flush pink when they go up your shirt, cold finger tips touching your skin that almost seems frail to his eyes.
“You’re so worked up and we haven’t even done anything.” Johnny rumbles from the back of his throat, pleased to see you’re not squirming under him to leave. “You’ve been waiting, haven’t you?” He asks, tilting his head as he rips your shirt open with no problems and you gasp slightly from the sudden action.
Johnny presses his hand next to your head, stabilizing himself to lurk above your body. “And what if I have?” You ask in a quiet tone, feeling tears resurface in your eyes and he purses his lips at that.
He opens his mouth to say something out of pocket, to hurt your feelings all over again but he can’t do it. Not now, seeing how you’re longing for him and it makes him sick to his stomach. You’re just a pathetic human and he can’t even say anything because he was just as pathetic in this moment.
Nodding at your statement, he moves his knee between your legs and you let out a small noise from the action. You find him kissing you with yearn, inhaling deeply from his nose before nipping at your bottom lip for the entrance. You hope he smothers you, feeling the kindle of flames reigniting inside of you and you want to forget the past. You want to forget all of the wrong doings Homelander has done to your mental health, wanting to play pretend he was just a normal guy who cared about you.
It’s not a terrible thing to live in a fantasy while having sex, after all.
You begin to feel Johnny rut his hips against your own, uttering against your lips he needed to stop for a moment to take off his belt. You feel breathless and in a daze, hearts forming in your eyes as he sits up on his knees while staring down at you. He works on his jeans, deciding to keep them on as he lets out a low noise from feeling free of the restrictions you were causing him. It feels right between you two, feeling like you’re back in the past of no troubles.
“You’re beautiful up there.” You whisper, reaching up to caress his sides and down to his hip bones, thumbing the V-line soothingly.
Johnny gives a weird expression, not recalling the last time someone called him that and knowing it was a genuine compliment made his stomach twist uncomfortably.
“I’m really not.” He scoffs, pushing your hands away from feeling uncomfortable with the light on him instead of you.
It’s funny, he enjoys being the center of attention and seeking it out from every single person but right now, he doesn’t. It’s an entirely new sensation and he hates it.
Your eyes roll at his reply, wrapping your leg around his waist so you could be on top this time. He looks at you with confusion, immediately grabbing your sides but you push them down.
“Just let me, please?” You ask in a strained voice, feeling him press against your inner thigh and you shudder at the feeling.
You feel sheepish however, feeling like it’s your first time when he’s looking at you like that. His pupils are blown out, giving you a wide eye stare and his lips are swollen from kissing. There’s a pink color filling his cheeks, making him look shy almost with his hair skewed everywhere from your doing.
Johnny’s panting, letting out a low whining noise when you move your hips down onto his. Your hands are on his chest, teasing him just enough to edge him and make him breathless but there’s something different about him during this moment. Eyebrows stitched together, mouth slightly ajar before groaning from deep in his chest.
“Please?”
His voice is soft, almost pitiful and it changes your mentality like the snap of your fingers. His eyes are now half lidded, staring up at you with pity.
“Please what?” You ask back, forcing him to talk out what he wants. It’s strange how the room changed so drastically between you two when just a few moments ago he was trying to use power dominance over your head.
Johnny watches your fingers slide down from your abdomen and between your legs, pushing your underwear to the side and he groans at the sight.
His back arches, grabbing ahold of your hands but you slap them away. “Please, please. I’ve been good.” Johnny quickly mutters, breathless even as he licks his bottom lip hungrily.
“You have?” You coo back, using your free hand to push his hair away from his eyes and he nods eagerly, wanting to reach around and get himself off. “You’ve been a good boy, Johnny?”
You knew what to say to make him moan out and chew his bottom lip off from the words, feeling him squirm under your legs to ease the friction while you slowly rubbed your clit in return.
“I’ve been so good, I swear.” His voice goes a pitch higher, becoming more desperate by the second and you can’t help but to mewl under your breath from the sounds he’s making. “I’m your good boy, right? I haven’t even touched myself. Please, it hurts.” Johnny practically begs out, a new side of him shining through and before he can even say anything else you pull your fingers out of your underwear to shove them into his mouth instead.
Homelander moans wantonly around them, lapping up your fluids as if he needed water. Pulling your pointer and middle finger out, he desperately tries to catch them to keep suckling on. Instead, you use your thumb and pointer to catch his tongue, leaning down to become eye level and he has a certain look that would make anyone crumble. For once, Homelander looked pathetic instead of the other way around.
“Since you’ve been such a good boy,” You murmur, letting go of his tongue and he swallows thickly. “You deserve a reward. Right, baby? Good boys deserve something.” You talk to him in a small voice, rubbing his cheekbone in soothing patterns and he nods silently in response, too far into this headspace now and you knew it.
Helping him get situated, he’s holding your hip in a vice grip and you try not to think about the pain too much because you knew it was just him grounding himself. Pulling his cock out, it’s oozing precum and he inhales sharply through his teeth. You wrap your hand around it, pushing the liquid down the shaft to lubricate him a little more and his hips raise at the sensation.
You don’t waste time, wanting this the more you inch your way into his pants to feel sanity and forget the problems he’s caused you. Right now, this was the old Johnny who was just a puppy-eyed boy with big hopes in the world. This was your old Johnny.
Johnny moans at the sensation when you help him to push himself into you. You coo at him when his eyes flicker red, the feelings and whatever else become too overstimulating for him and you don’t want it to end immediately. He reaches out to grab ahold of your sides, wanting to control the thrusts but you grab ahold of his wrists to put them above his head and he moans your name.
“I’ll be good.” He genuinely whines out, panting heavily as he tries to thrust his hips up. “I’ll be so good.” Slurring the words, his head tilts back as he moans when you finally have him completely sheathed inside of you. You feel full, taking a minute to breathe and collect your thoughts.
“That’s it, Johnny. Good boy. You’re my good boy.”
Praising him made you feel like you were on top of the world, your God complex trickling in and he can’t even do anything about it. Everything felt too good in this moment, being loved and praised like he’s never done anything wrong but instead, do things in complete validation to seek out the attention you provided for him. You both are feeding into each other’s problems, ignoring what’s happened between you two for this small moment.
Of course, Homelander can’t last long from the build up of this, quickly whimpering out apologies and you grab ahold of his jaw.
“Don’t you dare do it. Good boys don’t come immediately.” You warn him, though the face he gives makes you want to remember it until you’re on your deathbed.
It was the raw version of him no one ever sees- the dirty, shriveled up, anemic piece that still lives deep down under the rubble inside his body. His jaw is clenched tightly when you say those words to him, a bead of sweat dripping down from his temple.
You find yourself pressed flatly against his chest, his arm securely wrapped around to flip each other around. Your back is pressed against the mattress, Johnny now having full control to do whatever he wanted. He’s breathing heavily, finding himself still inside of you and he breathlessly laughs at the sight. Looking up with his eyes, they’re dark and stormy as he leans over you whisper in your ear that got you to blush horribly.
“I will put a baby in you and make you mine.”
The words are a threat, nipping at your earlobe while repositioning himself to fuck you hard and fast. He’s been waiting for this moment for a long time, wanting you all to himself and keep you under lock and key. You’re basically being pushed into the bedrame, clawing up his back as he keeps up the rough pace, fucking you with hatred and bitterness. You can’t blame him, feeling the same back so you begin to dig your nails into his skin to make it bleed and you hear him groan in your ear.
Johnny grabs your headboard with one hand, holding your side with the other. Through it all, you begin to hear the wood crack under his strength while you both are close to climaxing.
“You want that, don’t you?” He hisses out, pressing his forehead against yours to stare directly into your eyes to hold dominance. “Look at me.” Barking, he pulls the hand away from your side to grab ahold of your chin like you just did with him a few minutes ago, however, his grip was tight and painful.
Johnny has the same mischievous smile you recall that night months ago but you can’t focus on it. Not now, feeling him push farther into you to bruise your cervix.
“You,” He breathes out, eyes beginning to turn red and you knew he was close from how his body is tensing up and his rhythm is stuttering. “You are mine. You will be mine, do you fucking understand that? You’ll bear my children just the way you fucking like it.” Johnny sneers out but at the end of the sentence he moans, wedging his hand between the two of you to get you off quicker, so close to falling apart.
You eagerly agree, sputtering over wanting him to breed you over and over again until you give birth and that’s all he needed to hear. Reaching your climax, you cry out his name and he laughs breathlessly at your vulnerability, feeling accomplished he got you back around his finger. You watch his eyes burn red, so close to lasering your mattress as he snaps the headboard behind you but nothing appears whilst he takes deep breaths of what just happened.
He doesn’t even pull out, lying down next to you and you see blood spots on his shirt. You quietly point it out, nestling your face into his neck as he pulls you close as possible. He looked over at his shoulder, not seeing anything until he moved to feel the fabric on his back was sticking to him from your doing. He hums tiredly, looking down at you who’s barely coherent.
“Do you really mean it?” Johnny asks in a whisper, as if he’s scared someone will hear him and you’re confused on what he means. “Being your good boy.” He exhales out, yet, you feel his dick twitch at the words that came out of his mouth.
You shrug, not really sure how to respond because it was after all just you being in the moment with him. “You’ve always been one. However,” You mutter back, shifting your body to sit up some to look at him and there were puppy eyes staring back at you.
You purse your lips into a thin line, hating him looking like that in front of you. “You caused me a lot of pain six months ago. I haven’t forgotten.” Clearing your throat, you feel the familiar ache in your chest begin to form from thinking about the incident between you two.
Homelander sighs through his nose, grinding his teeth together that you’d bring it up in front of him like this.
“If I apologized, would you forgive me?”
He asks the question quietly, almost inaudible but you catch it. Your eyes narrow down at him, uncertain what this could mean because he enjoyed playing games for these moments.
Homelander side eyes you, waiting impatiently for an answer but you were thinking. “You need to retire from The Seven and we can go on from there.” You say those words he never wanted to hear, irking him just enough to clutch the sheet under him and thinking of every curse over you saying such things.
“I am not…” Homelander trails off, a visible pout appearing on his face and you scoff at it while he thinks about the rest of his sentence. “I will not leave my team.” He says it matter-of-factly, glaring daggers into you for even trying to make him leave.
You shrug in response, deciding the deal is off. “Then tomorrow morning I’m going to the pharmacy. It’s final.” You state, turning over to put your back towards him and Homelander was holding back his comment.
It killed him inside, seeing you react like that or even think he’d leave his own team to be normal with a human like you- someone's who's pathetic and still longs for him after everything he’s done to you.
“Fine, fine. I don’t care either.” Homelander replies back in a condescending tone, turning over so his back faces yours. You hold in a laugh at his childish acts, not believing how quickly he changes in the span of seconds.
Homelander fixates on you, wondering if you’re bluffing in the slightest with him. Yet, he finds a piece of you thinking about him.
Longing for him, cherishing him, loving him.
It sends shivers up his spine as he stares at your bedroom door, deeply thinking about maybe he should leave Vought and never return just to make up with you. Stifling a yawn, Homelander snorts at that idea, knowing too well it’d never happen. After all, he was just using you like a mere toy when he was bored playing with his others back home.