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Christ, this is fucking pathetic, Homelander thinks, despite the broad smile he's wearing for the public. These publicity patrols are boring as dirt. While the initial wave of adoration is pleasant enough, the longer he mingles, the emptier it leaves him feeling. The faces all begin to blend together, and the shrill excitement in their voices grates more and more on his ears.
That's when he listens for you.
He can pinpoint the sound of your heartbeat in a hundred mile radius with ease. He's come to know it as intimately as his own. The cadence of it never fails to bring him comfort when he knows that, as you've said yourself, it beats for him .
Homelander frowns. Your heart rate is up. An eager fan offers him a photograph, their voice drowned out by the elevated sound of your heart in his ears. He signs the photo automatically, forcing a smile back into place, but he is lost to the unusual rhythm your heart has adopted.
Broadening his focus, he listens for the rest of you. Your breaths are shallow. For a horrifying moment, he thinks you're in pain. He feels himself panic, but the sentiment is cut short when your moan resonates in his ears, the sound of it going straight to his cock. He sucks in a sharp breath, and something cracks in his hand.
Looking down, he realizes he's just snapped the sharpie that he was signing with, the ink splattered over his gloves. He blinks, the sound of the world around him suddenly crashing back in on him. He laughs in a way that even he realizes sounds fake. "Whoops, sorry about that," he says breathlessly, licking his lips. His mouth feels dry.
"Apologies, folks, but there's someone out there in urgent need of a hero," he says, broadening his smile and offering a wide wave, followed by a salute, before he abruptly takes off into the air. The speed with which he ascends shocks a ripple through the crowd, who gasps and marvels as they wave him disappear into the sky.
When he lands on the balcony of his penthouse, the door is already open. He doesn't need to focus anymore; the heated sounds of your breaths and your pitchy little moans are all he can hear, along with a familiar, deliciously wet noise.
Homelander finds you on the bed, wearing nothing but a sleep shirt, legs spread as you fuck yourself with a striped red, white and blue silicone cock. You haven't even noticed him yet, too enraptured in your pleasure, in whatever fantasy is playing behind your closed eyelids.
"Just couldn't wait 'till I got home, huh?" Homelander asks, his voice low, thick with desire. He listened to you the whole way here. His cock is already throbbing in his pants.
You gasp, his voice startling you to a stop. The fear dissipates quickly when you realize it's him at the foot of the bed. You laugh breathily, your hand still between your thighs, clutching the flared base of the toy. "I wanted to be ready for you when you came home," you say, giving the toy a slow, deep thrust. His eyes flicker down to watch it sink back into you. "You're early."
"I heard you," he says, walking around to the head of the bed, pulling off his ink-stained glove. "I listened for you, and I could hear you fucking yourself," he says, coming to stand next to you. He reaches out to thumb at your lips, cupping your chin. "How was I supposed to stay out there smilin' for a crowd of mindless sycophants while you were moaning in my ear?"
You give his thumb a sweet kiss. "I'm not going to apologize if it means I get you to myself."
With his other hand, Homelander unzips his pants. You watch with half-lidded, hungry eyes as he draws his cock out, giving it a couple slow pumps. Without hesitation, you scoot closer to the edge of the bed, opening your mouth, tongue out, an open invitation that Homelander readily accepts.
You both moan as his cock slides heavy into your mouth. "Don't stop," he tells you, voice already tight. "Keep fucking yourself."
With a hum that makes him shudder, you start pumping the toy in and out again, spreading your legs wide to ensure he has a good view. He pushes his hands into your hair, cupping your head to hold you steady while he begins to fuck your mouth in earnest, gaze bouncing between your mouth and your pussy, watching that toy disappear over and over.
Your cheeks hollow as you suck him, your tongue pressed up firm to the underside of his cock. He always tastes clean, fresh and woodsy. You've never seen him sweat. The thought of him spying on you as you got yourself off makes your whole body throb hotly, but the fact he immediately ditched his job to finish you off really pushes you over the edge, makes you feel incoherent with arousal.
Homelander's breaths have turned harsh. He runs his tongue along his teeth before biting down on it. You look so fucking perfect like this, flushed with pleasure, moaning sweetly around his cock while he fucks your mouth.
God, he wants to kiss you so fucking bad. The thought overwhelms him so thoroughly that he abandons his encroaching orgasm for it, pulling his cock from your mouth so that he can taste it for himself, bending down and licking hungrily into it. You keen loudly against his lips, fucking yourself faster with the toy, the sound of it music to his ears.
The disappointed noise you make when he suddenly takes the toy from your hands, tossing it onto the bed, is goddamn adorable. "Don't you worry, sunshine. Daddy's got the real deal for you," he says, effortlessly manhandling you onto your knees, head down and ass up, perfectly presented to him where he stands at the edge of the bed.
You laugh breathlessly, folding your arms under your head. "Don't tease me, then. Fuck me," you demand, spreading your legs further apart. He startles you with a sharp slap to your ass with his one gloved hand.
"Language, young lady," he purrs. His voice is like honey in your ears, as warm and sweet as the rest of him. It makes you tingle all over.
You bite your lip, smiling through it. "Or what?"
Another sharp slap pulls a low moan from you. He's grinning now, too. "Or there will be consequences."
"Promises, promises," you say, arching your back deeper. He spanks the other cheek this time, and then again, and then a third time. Each strike feels like a crack of electricity, stimulating your already sensitized pussy. The thought of someone with the strength to hurl a car would have been mortifying, but Homelander has proved he can handle you without breaking you. He knows intimately exactly how you love to be touched.
Homelander rubs soothing circles on your reddening ass before he moves his hand to your hip, pulling you towards his leaking cock. The head of it makes a wet sound as it presses against your soaked clit. Your answering moan is so sweet he can practically taste it melting on his tongue like sugar. He drags his cock up and down along your pussy a few times just to make you writhe, holding you still to keep you from pushing yourself back onto it.
“Oh, god, John, would you just– fucking hurry–” you’re cut off by another smart slap to your ass, your words breaking off into a half laugh, half moan.
“You spoil yourself when I’m not around, huh?” He asks, and though you know he’s trying to sound teasing, you can hear the restraint untethering in the shake of his voice.
“It’s nothing compared to how I’m gonna spoil you,” you reply, looking over your shoulder at him. “C’mon, baby. Fill me up. I want my pussy dripping while I take care of you.”
Homelander nearly doubles over, his vision temporarily tunneling. Fuck, you’re so goddamn perfect. He can’t play at being the restrained one anymore. He holds you steady while he bottoms out in one slow, smooth slide, the two of you moaning in tandem. The toy was good, but Homelander is so much better, throbbing hot and alive. He opens you wider than the toy had, hits every spot inside you just right. You claw at the bed, twisting your fist into the fabric.
“Ffffuck,” Homelander hisses, teeth clenched. He holds your hips firm between his hands, the dull nails of his ungloved hand biting into your skin. Your cunt feels unreal, puffy and soft from how you fucked yourself, clenching around him like a hot vice. It takes everything in him not to pound you into the bed with all his strength.
While he shakes beneath the weight of his restraint, you push back against him. He lets you, pulling you in by your hips, but allowing you to control the pace. He watches, transfixed, as you bounce back against him over and over, using his cock as beautifully as you did the toy. “Faster,” he murmurs, pulling you back more sharply on each deep thrust, punching breathy little moans out of you.
After a particularly hard thrust that rattles all the way up your spine, you reach back and grab hold of his bare wrist, thumb stroking tenderly. “Don’t break me, baby,” you say softly.
That snaps Homelander’s attention up from where he’s driving into you. He meets your gaze, his lips parted. He looks wrecked, flushed with arousal, eyes blown black. There’s a fraction of a delay before he nods at you. “Never. Never. I’m going to keep you forever,” he says fervently. Your stomach flips. You believe him. He takes over the pace, fucking you deep and good, leaving you no choice but to take it while he chases his release. You move a hand down between your legs to feel your own cunt, to let his cock slide between your middle and index finger before dragging them back up to rub slow circles on your clit.
Homelander keeps a relentless pace, the rhythm stuttering the closer he gets to his climax. His cock has you stretched so nicely that you swear you can feel every throb of it, and when he comes, the rushing heat of him spilling inside you paired with the movement of your own deft fingers tips you over the edge with him. Homelander doubles over you, covering your back with his chest, both of his arms wrapping around your waist as he fucks the last of his release deep into you, gradually slowing to deep, pointed thrusts, milking the last of your respective orgasms.
You give a full body shudder, his weight sinking you down fully to the bed. The only sound in the room is the loud huffs of both of your breaths, the ambience of the city drowned out. The world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and the sound of your rapidly beating heart. The sound that brought him here in the first place.
Homelander lets out a shaking breath, nuzzling at your spine. After a while, he exhales a soft laugh. “Wowie.”
You laugh, too. “You should listen in on me more often.”
“Foolish of you to think I don’t already,” Homelander answers lazily, a slight slur to his words. “Got lucky today.” Gently, he eases himself off of you, giving you the chance to adjust. You roll onto your back, and then reach out to catch him, pulling him right back down on top of you.
“I’m the lucky one,” you say, drawing him close for a languid kiss, pushing your hands into his hair. Homelander presses in deep, savoring the feel of you on his lips, the taste of you. Everything about you intoxicates him. He feels love drunk, heavy-limbed and satiated as the two of you kiss, unbothered by the mess between you. You eventually start working on undoing his shirt, peeling away the layer of fabric fastened across his chest. “Let’s go,” you murmur, pushing the suit down his shoulders. “Let’s take a bath. I promised to take care of you.”
Homelander rumbles out a pleased noise, nuzzling at the crook of your neck before leaning back, helping you undress him. “Sounds like an excuse to wash my hair,” he accuses, sounding no less content with the thought.
“Someone has to rectify the wrongs of your stylist,” you respond playfully. You’ve already made quite the mess of his hair, which had started off neatly slicked back.
He chuckles. “It would go everywhere when I flew if they didn’t glue it in place.”
“Excuses,” you dismiss, kissing him again. You feel him grin against your lips before he scoops you up into his arms, carrying you towards the bathroom. You smile up at him, touching the side of his face. He turns into it, aggressively and repeatedly kissing into your palm until you laugh. His eyes are never softer than when he makes you laugh.
Every sound you make soothes him. Whether it be your breaths, your laughs, your words, or the beat of your heart, your very existence creates a white noise that drowns out the noise of the world. Whether you are near or far, you bring him peace.
He is most certainly the lucky one.