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blindmagdalena · 6 months

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Pocket Rocket ( Homelander x Madelyn )

18+ 1.9k micro/macro, external only, mild objectification, grinding, under clothing play, uh... sexy shenanigans with super powers. written for @cozycornerkinktober!

After Vought develops a shrinking serum, they decide to test it on their resident lab rat. Homelander takes surprisingly well to being 4 inches tall, especially when it comes to spending time with his favorite manager.

set pre s1. i... have nothing to say for myself lmao this is my first time writing anything like this, so be kind to me. thank you @xieyaohuan and @deliciouskeys for your enthusiastic encouragement. 🖤

It started off innocently enough.

By utilizing the biological response that the hero Termite’s DNA has to Compound V, Vought scientists are able to distill a potent serum that temporarily shrinks any hero to Termite’s infamous size. The results vary from hero to hero, but generally speaking, those with higher concentrations of Compound V in their system fare the best.

Naturally, Homelander is the perfect candidate for the continued trials. The strategic potential this offers them, in combination with his other powers, is undeniable. He could be anywhere at any time, practically invisible.

The one perk Madelyn didn’t anticipate was how intensely docile it would make the supe.

Even now as she works, he lays sprawled out in her upturned palm, fitted in a tiny replica of his suit. He had insisted the details be perfect, all the way down to his boots. She has to admit, it’s rather charming.

The serum doesn’t reduce him to quite the size Termite is able to accomplish. He’s about four inches tall, spanning the base of her middle finger to the bottom of her palm. Due to the sheer volume of V in his system, depending on how high of a dosage he takes, the solution can last as long as eight hours without any side effects. He’s been keen to make very good use of the time he has with it, eager to test it whenever the matter arises.

As for Madelyn, she doesn’t mind one bit. Not only does it allow her to keep an eye on him, it keeps him quiet and perfectly manageable. He rolls over in her palm, cushioning his head on his arm, and she can see in her peripheral vision that he’s smiling up at her. When she glances down, he closes his eyes like he’s sleeping.

Cute.

Her phone rings, and instead of rolling him onto the desk or awkwardly reaching across herself to answer it, she tugs open the breast pocket of her button-up and gently plops him inside it. She can feel him squirm a bit, but she knows he can fly out at any time if he wants to. However, it quickly becomes apparent that he isn’t squirming at all. He’s just making himself comfortable.

Taking her call, Madelyn does her best to ignore the sudden dim pulse stirring between her thighs.

From that point on, it’s a gradual escalation that, frankly, she should have seen coming.

He becomes obsessed with situating himself in her pockets, be they pants, skirt, or shirt. Any time he experiences so much as a modicum of stress, he seizes it as an opportunity to be tiny and close to her, seeking comfort in the same ways he always has, but with the added benefit of not pestering Madelyn when she has important matters to tend to. Besides, this little ritual of theirs has significantly improved his temperament.

It doesn’t hurt that she’s begun to enjoy it herself.

When the day comes that he storms into her office, pitching some kind of fit that a news station has run a cutting exposé on one of his recent heroic endeavors–citing a wealth of unnecessary collateral damage that she had already thoroughly reprimanded him for–she’s quick to reach for the stash of serums she now keeps in a small fridge behind her desk.

It isn’t until he’s nestled contentedly in the circle of her fingers that she realizes she doesn’t have pockets in this outfit.

With a thoughtful click of her tongue, she makes a choice and partially unbuttons her blouse. “Be good,” she tells him, and sets him on the curve of her breast, tucking him into just the top of her bra. She’s certain that she’s never seen him so delighted, nor has she ever felt him take so long to get comfortable.

The pulse between her legs has grown to a steady throb, and she can no longer deny that this is almost as much for her as it is for him.

The cup of her bra immediately becomes his new favorite spot. He’s even less conspicuous there than he’d been in her breast pocket, and she doesn’t have to worry as much about someone taking note of him as she goes about her work day. They’ve both begun to look forward to these days, to the point where Madelyn will often shuffle his schedule around in order to ensure he has at least one full day free of duty.

The dam doesn’t truly break until one such day she feels him shuffle down lower, squirming more than usual, followed by a pleasant little pinch that makes her whole body jolt. “What are you doing in there?” She asks with a furrow of her brows, hooking her fingers delicately over her blouse and bra, peering inside.

She finds Homelander pressed snugly between her bra and her breast, cupping her nipple between his hands, face pressed into it. She realizes that his squirming was him grinding against her. He turns his head to look sheepishly up at her, muttering something she can’t hear due to his size. He’s flushed thoroughly pink, looking like he expects to be reprimanded. She swallows thickly, the aching throb of her clit doubling at the needy sight of him tucked in against her.

Breathing a touch shallower, she gives him the barest hint of a nod and covers him back up, cupping her breast instead, feeling him in her palm through the layers of her shirt. He starts thrusting again, grinding against her soft skin, squeezing and nuzzling at her nipple with more vigor now. She shivers, holding him tight to her chest while she deftly unbuttons her skirt with her other hand, slipping her fingers into her underwear.

She fingers herself to the feel of him writhing against her until she comes. Neither of them speak of it, nor his tiny soiled suit.

After that, they stop bothering with the tiny suit altogether during these times. Seems foolish to keep making a mess of it. Besides, she takes (perhaps too much) pleasure in stripping him of each piece, holding him delicately in her hand as she pinches his gloves between her middle finger and thumb, sliding it off and setting each one to the side. He’s entirely malleable as she does it, watching her with parted lips and heavily lidded, love drunk eyes.

It’s been a busy few weeks since they were able to do this, and her skin is already prickling with anticipation. She’s wearing a dress today, and as per usual, she slips him into the cup of her bra to get comfortable as he pleases.

She’s worked up enough that she has to lay back while he gets settled, closing her eyes to enjoy the moment. Her heart is already beating in her clit, and he’s taking longer than usual to establish himself. “Homelander,” she warns, giving him a light pat through her shirt. “Settle down.”

He doesn’t, though. Instead, he pulls himself out entirely, popping up from the neckline of her dress. He swings his arm, beckoning her, and she picks him up, bringing him close to her ear once she realizes he wants to speak.

“I can hear you throbbing in your underwear, Madelyn,” he says, voice thoroughly addled with his own lust. “Why don’t you stick me where you really want me?”

Drawing her hand away, she shoots him a critical look. “You think you’ve earned that?”

He nods enthusiastically, looking equal parts convinced of it and hopeful that she is as well.

She supposes that he has been particularly well-behaved as of late. Is this why? Has he been listening to her arousal all this time, plotting the day he would be pressed against the heat of it? She can’t deny that she’s thought about it, too; wondered if he would feel anything like the vibrator she had pressed to her clit while she was thinking about it.

Slowly, with him sitting naked and eager in the palm of her hand, his cock full and hard, she stands up. He’s starting to look nervous, clearly beginning to think he’s overstepped. She waits until he looks just about ready to apologize or burst into tears—or both, frankly—before she hooks her fingers beneath the hem of her dress and slides it up her thigh.

“Be good,” she tells him, though it's a significantly more salacious demand than the first time she said it in this context.

With that, she closes her fingers around him and slips him into her underwear, releasing him into the narrow space between her cotton panties and her pulsing cunt.

A shiver rolls up her spine. She’s immediately hyper aware of him moving, adjusting until he finds a comfortable way to align against her. Her heart is racing, and she waits until he stops moving before she sits down.

Unlike when he’s tucked into her bra, she’s unable to think of anything other than the feel of him, especially once she’s sitting. She swears she can feel every single one of his movements, which feel more intentional than ever. It’s not as though she’ll crush or smother him; they tested him, and he’s just as durable as he is at his full size.

He’s not settling like he usually does, either. He hasn’t stopped squirming since she sat down. Instead of chiding him, however, she slips her hand between her thighs and finds his small body with her fingers, letting out a shuddering sigh when she feels him. He isn’t just squirming, he’s thrusting against her, using his unnatural strength to his utmost benefit, writhing against her clit, grinding, using his arms, anything he can, and it feels fucking amazing.

Madelyn moans outright, bracing her other hand against the edge of it in a white-knuckle grip. He’s absolutely relentless, more so than he ever was in her shirt, and it’s everything she imagined it would be and more. The strength he possesses is unreal, and even as small as he is, she feels it in his every movement, how his body practically thrums with it.

She comes with a stifled cry while bent over her desk, every harsh breath sending her documents a little further askew. Only then does he finally stop moving, but throughout her aftershocks she can still feel the inhuman buzz of his body.

Leaning back, she gingerly lifts the waistband of her panties and peers inside, spotting Homelander’s small body. He’s slumped back against her wet panties, glistening and utterly pussy drunk. He offers her a broad, dazed smile.

“Are you alright?” She asks. She’s a little breathless, but she maintains her composed tone of authority well.

He nods, looking positively delirious with pleasure and completely unharmed. She can already tell that he’s come, too, even if she can’t feel the mess of it amongst her own.

“Good,” she says, the word dripping with satisfaction. “You can stay there, then.”

With that, she lets go of her waistband and adjusts her dress back down, running her fingers through her hair while she resettles herself. She leaves him there for the rest of the day, an arrangement that they both wind up being more than content with.

Once settled, he behaves perfectly well for her. Any time she decides she needs a little break from work, all she has to do is rock her hips, and he starts right back up until she’s satisfied once again.

#cozy corner kinktober #homewell #homelander x madelyn stillwell #microphilia #my writing #smut #i might have finished this drunk LMAO #anyways i. don't know what i've done here. but i saw the kink and could NOT stop thinking about these two!

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abrubag · 2 months

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SIXFT - Homelander (multi-pairing)

youtube link

Happy birthday @deliciouskeys! Click here for a few other videos. Be warned it's all downhill from here.

#homelander #homewell #stormlander #starlander #butchlander #maevlander #selflander #the boys #dkbday

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bisexualhomelander · 27 days

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Firstly, happy birthday month! 🎉

Second, as I can never resist a good prompt idea: Lily-of-the-valley, Homewell.

The winning Homewell lily-of-the-valley mood: looking good enough to eat up, but toxic enough to kill a man.

lily-of-the-valley; sweetness & humility

He looks at her like she hung the moon into the night sky just for him. The comparison makes her twist her mouth. She's not usually that vivid with her imaginiations. The round lanterns of the street festival do look like little moons, though, and she's had three cocktails.

The people know his eyes smiling or hardened, on magazines and posters. America's favourite ladies' man.

He looks at nobody the way he looks at her.

It is just dark enough for him to become a little brave the way he rarely is in the daylight. He is shy around her, skittish. She has tried to train it out of him, and outside of their interactions, she has succeeded. His ego is beginning to become a problem in the company, or so she has heard. With her, he is different.

He is trying hard to be gentlemanly, in the old-school way they want him to be. Every little stone step has him automatically extend a hand to help her over it. He orders her drinks, but always asks what she wants. They allowed him to wear civilian clothes for their night out, and when he sees her shiver, he gives her his jacket.

The people around them do not recognise him, and for that she is grateful. It's humiliating enough that he openly acts like her lover despite very clearly being twenty years her junior. She wants so much to feel flattered by his attention because it is rare for her these days.

Madelyn Stillwell does not do relationships anymore. She had given up on it when she had begun to weigh the offers of men (and potential fathers of her potential offspring) against the way their faces would look with their eyes burned out of their skulls. Her charge is a possessive man, and he does not tolerate competition.

She knows all of his crimes. After all, she is the one cleaning up after him.

But there are no crimes in sight tonight, just the softness of his eyes and the way he leans into her space shy as a school boy about to kiss his prom date.

She obliges him and connects their lips. She knows he dislikes the taste of alcohol, is sensitive to it, and that her mouth must burn him, but the noise he lets out is pleasant, and Madelyn's smile feels real even to her.

#ask game #my writing #thank you for the ask!!#homelander #madelyn stillwell #homewell #bloody bouquets

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plasticfangtastic · 8 months

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My Masterlist

Hi my name is Plastic/Kay and I been meaning to make a masterlist of all my "The Boys" fanfictions. I Hate short stories and I write long chapters.

Might self-reblog after the cozy corner kinktober event--- after I add those fics.

My fave ships for the boys are Butchlander, Homeash and Homelander x A-Train (Homerun??) and nobody wants to give me that so i will be making my own for kinktober. Professional Homelander simp

Cuz tumblr only allows 10 links per post i be doing individual masterlists for my long projects and put the links here once this gets to max capacity i will do a new masterlist with this one as a link.. will update this frequently!

Currently working on:

Of The Same Poisonous Ilk (A Butchlander and Homelander self-cest fic) (on hiatus)

Building Blocks (A Butchalnder alt. au fic) (on hiatus)

Anybody Else Won't do (A Ashlander fic) (on Hiatus)

Thank you for reading my works!

Can We Be Lonely Together?:

R18+ Homelander x GN! Stalker/Supe Reader (or Homelander X Joe Goldberg... is up to you) this work is over 270 pages long and 120K plus words (status: completed)

Of The Same Poisonous Ilk:

R18+ Butchlander/ HL self-cest with a bit of Homewell (Status: WIP/ hiatus)

American Royalty:

M- Rating (australian rating no idea what the rating system is in the US/other countries so this is just like a bit over PG+13) Homelander X F!Reader/Dadlander fic. (Status: Completed)

Carnivorous lamb:

R18+ a OC and Homelander NTR sort of fic, so don't rec if you can't handle dark topic. (Status: Completed)

My one-shots

All fics are R18- first set its a collection of the cozy corner kinktober event, this will now include general one shots too.

#homelander #the boys amazon #homelander fanfiction #butchlander #homelader x ashley #homewell #homelander × you #homelander x reader #dadlander #personal #my masterlist #my fic tag #i made this on mobile and am sure there is a better way to do this on desktop but i dont own a computer so this is my only way to do it #hope y'all like it #hometek #homelander x tek knight #homelander x oc

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xieyaohuan · 1 year

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Homelander and Madelyn, The Boys, Season 1, Episode 2, "Cherry"

I love how he's trying to be cute for her with his flap down. He was probably standing in front of the mirror adjusting his look, pulling the flap down and up and down again before barging in on her.

#the flap is down #bb #homelander #madelyn stillwell #homewell #homelander x madelyn stillwell #the boys #the boys s1

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cozycornerevents · 6 months

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Cozy Corner Kinktober roundup

I waited a couple more days in case of stragglers (let's face it, I'm talking about myself here), but it's almost mid-November, so here's the Cozy Corner Kinktober roundup post with all the important links and statistics you all have been waiting for!

At the risk of spamming everyone, a big thank you to @theonlymanintheskyisme, @digitalbath2008, @deliciouskeys, @sehtoast, @saintmathieublanc, @blindmagdalena, @blaacknoir, @plasticfangtastic, @kosmochlor, and @jethrowest for creating for the prompts! We're a tiny community, and when I posted the prompts, I had no idea if anybody would have time to create something for this event, so I was so happy to see all your wonderful fills! ❤️ Thank you also to everyone who participated by reading, commenting and reblogging! ❤️

SOME STATS

Our favorite prompts/prompts that got 4 or more fills: overstimulation (7), praise kink (6), prompt of choice (6), macro/micro (5, woohoo!!!), double penetration (4), and voyeurism (4).

Ships with the most fills: Butchlander (12), Homelander x OC (7), Homewell (5), Homelander x reader (5)

First fill: prompt fill for gloves/kink of choice by @theonlymanintheskyisme

Most fills: 18 fills (or 17, depending on how you wanna count :P) by @deliciouskeys

Last fill: tbd, this event isn't closed

Below are links to all fills by prompt -- I couldn't do numbered prompts because there's a character limit on textblocks, apparently. I also probably messed up some links, so please let me know if you spot anything wrong with the links.

Praise kink: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

Gloves: 1, 2, 3

Breeding/pregnancy: 1

Overstimulation: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

Blindfold: 1, 2, 3

Public sex: 1

DIY porn: 1, 2

Five senses: 1, 2

Age play: 1

Orgasm denial: 1, 2, 3

Double penetration: 1, 2, 3, 4

Enema: 1

Nursing/lactation: 1, 2

Forced feminization: 1

Cigarettes: 1

Begging: 1, 2

Shibari: 1, 2

Voyeurism: 1, 2, 3, 4,

Training

Food: 1

Omorashi

Tentacles: 1

Sounding: 1

Cage: 1

Hypnosis

Figging

Macro/Micro: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Uniform: 1

Sex doll: 1

Facesitting: 1, 2

CNC play: 1

Alternative prompts

Kink of your choice: 1 (collar), 2 (pain), 3 (mirrors), 4 (incest), 5 (exhibitionism), 6 (collar)

Enthusiastic consent

Safeword

Hard limit

Aftercare: 1, 2

Vanilla

Undernegotiated kink

Fantasy: 1

Switch: 1

RACK

Virgin

#cozy corner kinktober #homelander #the boys #thank you everybody!#slightly terrified I forgot or overlooked someone #so if I did just let me know -- it was 100% not on purpose #butchlander #homewell #homelander x reader #homelander x OC #cozy corner kinktober 2023

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aliengh0st · 1 year

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#the boys #homelander #madelyn stillwell #jaboukie #homewell #aliengh0st

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digitalbath1988 · 8 months

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Happy Birthday @blindmagdalena! My fellow Virgo ❤️ I wrote this quickly for you.

You deserve so much more for all the wonderful posts and just being a lovely person. Hope you get to relax today. 🎂 🥛 ❤️🤍💙

Homelander looked down at your pussy, already puffy and dripping in anticipation. You’d been somewhat surprised when he opened the door to Madelyn, while you were mid-foreplay. But the elegant older woman had always interested you. Also, he was The Homelander, and things generally went his way.

“Don’t be shy, sweet boy,” Madelyn said, reassuring hand now sliding over his nude glute. “Why don’t you show your little girlfriend here just how much you’ve learned?”

You bit your lip and looked up at him, knowing he was actually overeager but attempting to control himself. “Yeah, show me,” you say, words like honey, opening your legs further.

He pursed his lips slightly, you could have sworn there was some sort of perverse pleasure in being lightly bossed around, as long as he was rewarded at the end. After far too long he knelt down, focusing his tongue in long, broad, slow strokes that had you wriggling.

Madelyn watched over you both, expression carefully neutral. She always reserved praise (or distaste) for him sparingly and didn’t express without much thought, and this time was no different. As he focused far too much at teasing your labia, you heard “now, what did we talk about?”

He leaned his head up, with a small whine of disappointment from you. Is he bowing his head?

“I ummm, I’m supposed to give more attention to the clit.”

“Good boy, that’s right.” She worked her hand through his hair. “Why don’t you make mommy proud?”

From the look in his eyes when she said it, you suspected he was already attempting to subtly hump the mattress, glute muscles twitching, probably coating himself in pre-cum as she spoke. Madelyn was getting that sight all to herself now, but you took a mental note to file away for later.

Luckily, you’d never been the jealous type. This experience was just exciting, even more so than the times you’d fucked on various rooftops.

He groaned as she guided his head back towards you gently, and started over, not making the mistake of going directly for the clit after a minute of zero stimulation. He started with those broad tongue strokes again, then sucked on your clit as he fingered you. The result was an avalanche. It was all you could do to grasp at the fitted sheet for dear life as you died a little, shuddering and cumming. The fact that she was there watching this made it even hotter, her calculating stare taking you in as you screamed out animalistically.

Finally, after a minute to let you recover, she fluffed his hair again. “Such a good boy. Next time you can take care of both of us.” You were too out of it to register much more than the click clack of her stilettos and the door shutting behind her.

He seemed to regain some sort of confidence, catching your chin on his hand and forcing you to focus on his bright blue eyes. “That’s just the first one, sweetheart.” He said with a grin.

#homelander #homelander x you #homelander x reader #homelander smut #ILYSM thank you queen for all the writing #Homelander x Madelyn stillwell #homewell #stilllander

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preakr · 1 year

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homelander/madelyn commission by prettyboizel

#homelander #madelyn stillwell #homewell

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deliciouskeys · 1 year

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Spot the difference

#still think fucking homelander counts as a type of monsterfucking #homewell #a woman and her pet dragon #anton robert leinweber #1912 #madelyn stillwell #homelander #the boys #the boys tv

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dramaturgical-sense · 2 years

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no i will not elaborate

#roman roy #homelander #sam winchester #the boys #succession #spn #romangerri #samwena #homewell #venn diagrams #mine

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blindmagdalena · 1 year

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Internal Affairs (Homewell)

i've been wanting to write Homewell for ages, but was having a hard time deciding exactly what i what i wanted to write, but then this idea hit me today. i ended up banging it out in a single morning, and i'm pretty happy with it! i enjoyed getting into Madelyn's head a bit. also, @xieyaohuan is 100% to blame for this. thank you for being the Homewell champion!

Summary: 18+ 2.3k homelander x madelyn. bottomlander. sublander. fingering. After Homelander and Maeve’s very public breakup, Homelander’s ego is wounded. Despite being talked into viewing the breakup as his idea by Madelyn, the rejection has left him stung and irritable. Because of this, Madelyn finds herself dealing with him storming into her office more than twice as often, pent up in every imaginable way.

She decides to take matters into her own hands, and relieve some of that stress. For both their sakes.

The knock to her office door barely counts as a formality anymore. By the time Madelyn gets halfway through her invitation of “Come in,” Homelander is already through the door, shutting it behind him. He’s wearing the same pinched expression he has been for the last week and a half, his lips pursed, brows furrowed. She bites back a sigh, bracing her hands on the edge of her desk.

“Have you seen The Source headline today?” He asks her, bristled and petulant.

“I have not,” Madelyn answers, pensively tapping her fingers on the underside of her desk. “Is there a problem?”

“Yes,” he hisses, stepping towards her desk, though he maintains an undercurrent of respect in the distance he keeps, even in his upset. “Maeve Moving On? It’s been a week, Madelyn! A week, and she’s gallivanting around like she’s Nicole Kidman post divorce. Like she’s celebrating,” he says, spitting the word like it’s something vile. “This is not what we discussed.”

“The tabloids will talk. That’s what they do,” she answers in her best soothing, placating tone. “It’s alright. Maeve has an interview with VNN this week. We’ll address the rumors then, and she can put them to bed.”

Homelander scoffs. “Please. The only thing she’s putting to bed is every Tom, Dick and Jane that catches her eye. She’s out of control, Madelyn. You need to talk to her. It’s not just her image on the line, alright? It’s mine, too. And the Sevens!” He says, pointedly tapping a gloved finger on her desk. Righteous anger is easier to wear than the petty, wounded state of his pride.

“I hear you. You’re right,” she says, standing from her seat. That causes him to straighten up, his hands falling to his sides. “Maeve’s out of control,” she echoes him, watching the way her validation loosens some of the tension from his expression. “I will talk to her. Make sure she’s up on all of her talking points.”

Though his jaw is still tight, Homelander nods curtly. In a perfect world, that would be enough. He would accept what she told him, his upset would be soothed, and he would leave her office in peace. Instead, he remains there as if rooted in place, his hands in tight fists by his sides. It isn’t enough, and if she’s being honest, Madelyn knew it wouldn’t be.

Ultimately, the tabloids have nothing to do with his upset. Homelander has dealt with the ups and downs of publicity his entire life, and this isn’t the first time his relationship with Maeve has been covered in a less than positive light. No, he doesn’t care about any of that. His split with Maeve has left him with a void he doesn’t know how to fill. That would be true no matter how Madelyn spun the situation in his favor.

She supposes it couldn’t have lasted forever. Maeve had been by no means an excellent accomplice in maintaining Homelander, but at the very least she had been effective. If she was going to keep the hero under her thumb, she was going to have to take a more hands on approach, and pick up Maeve’s newly loosened slack.

Madelyn smiles warmly, and lifts a hand to beckon him to her. “Come over here.”

Homelander blinks owlishly, visibly caught off guard. Perhaps he had expected to be dismissed, still broiling with unresolved misery and newfound loneliness. Tentatively, he crosses the invisible threshold Madelyn maintains between them, eying her with equal parts curiosity and wariness. He makes his way around her desk, but stops before moving behind it. His hands fold demurely in front of him.

She beckons him again, urging him closer. “It’s okay. All the way.”

His throat bobs as he swallows his hesitance, nodding. He steps closer, and Madelyn rolls her chair all the way back to the wall, opening up the space behind her desk. Once he’s close enough, she puts her hand on his forearm. “I’m sorry that she hurt you,” she says quietly, watching his expression slowly smooth out until he looks young and vulnerable. It takes very little from her to get him to this point.

She’s made sure of that.

“Breakups are hard, and they’re lonely,” she says. She strings together specific words, ones she knows will disarm him, with all the care of a jeweler crafting the perfect series of gems in a necklace. “You’re so strong. Anyone else would have crumbled by now.”

“Not me,” he says, an attempt to coax more of those pretty, sparkling words from her.

“No,” she agrees, smoothing her hand up and down his arm in short strokes, “Not you. Not my very best hero.”

His lips twitch in an almost smile, but it falters. His gaze drops to her hand on his arm, following the back and forth flow of it. There is familiar, barely contained longing in his expression. Through their time together, she has been careful to microdose him with these affections, feeding him just enough to ensure that he neither starves, nor grows bored. Either would be deeply dangerous.

However, every so often, she acknowledges that there must be something more dangling from the stick than a morsel. There must be the lurking possibility of a feast, or he will lose interest regardless.

Madelyn takes hold of his wrist, and gives a gentle pull. He looks back up at her with all the tentative curiosity of a wild animal. She maintains her nurturing smile, and asks him, “Do you trust me?”

He only nods, which tells her that, mentally and emotionally, he’s exactly where she needs him.

“Good,” she says, dragging the word out, letting it wash over him. “Come here. Put your hands on the desk,” she instructs, barely above a whisper. He casts her one lingering, uncertain glance before his curiosity and obedience win out. He bends slightly to flatten his palms to her desk, eyes trained on the grain of the wood.

Madelyn steps forward, her skirt brushing against his cape, and reaches around him. She deftly undoes the mechanism of his belt, and hooks her thumbs into the waistband of his pants. He sucks in a sharp, exhilarated breath as she pushes them down to his mid thighs. Without all the ridiculous padding of the suit, he feels much less unwieldy beneath her palms. She slides them up his outer thighs like she might touch the flank of a horse so as not to spook it, keeping her touch confident and smooth.

Homelander has always had a distinctly sterile scent to him, and impeccable hygiene. She has no doubt that the frequent showers are to do with his heightened senses. He likes to keep clean and scentless. He’s the same way when it comes to his gloves, always preferring to keep them on over getting his hands dirty navigating the world. Unless he’s seeking connection, of course.

Next, she adjusts his cape out of the way, settling the bulk of the heavy fabric on her desk. He adjusts his hand to pin it there, eager to assist the process in any way he can. With a hand between his shoulder blades, she gradually applies pressure until he gets the message, and sinks down, down, down, stopping only when his chest hits the desk.

“There we go. Just like that,” she coos, continuing to stroke his bare skin, letting her nails scrape every so often. With her other hand, she pops open the side drawer of her desk, and retrieves the bottle of massage oil she keeps. Most days it’s reserved for her dry skin and aching neck. Today, it serves a greater purpose.

Pouring a generous amount into her palm, she rubs it between her hands to warm it. Homelander cranes his neck to try and get a look at her over his shoulder, but between all the padding and his eagle pauldrons, there isn’t much maneuverability. She doesn’t let him wait for long. Once the oil is warm and slick on both of her hands, she puts her hands to his lower back, just beneath the top of his suit, and begins working the oil into his skin.

Homelander inhales sharply, giving a little noise of confusion that quickly melts into a pleased, needy sigh. Madelyn works her fingers into the tight, woven steel muscles of his lower back, dragging her hands gradually lower. His breath hitches when she takes two generous handfuls of the meat of his rump, rolling her palms into it.

Before long, he’s panting softly, rustling the papers on her desk with every huff. His legs have settled into a wanton spread, and she’s ignored the swell of his cock long enough that, when she steps back to apply more oil, she can see that he’s drooled a puddle of precome onto the floor below.

“Would you like some more?” She asks, to which he nods fervently.

“More,” he pleads, swallowing back the saliva in his mouth, breathing shallowly.

“Of course,” she soothes, stepping back in close. “Anything for my sweet boy.” She punctuates her words by cupping his balls in her warm, wet palm. His whole body jerks, but he settles readily back into her hand, rutting only once against the pressure before he reigns himself in. “That’s it. Always so good for me,” she says, massaging him in slow, rhythmic rolls of her hand. With her other hand, she takes her middle finger and begins working his rim.

Homelander keens while she slides knuckle deep into him, his hips giving barely restrained little jerks, torn between pushing down into her hand and back onto her finger. Everything about her touch is too much and too little, a balance she has worked diligently to perfect. She’s certain she could make him cry if she teased him long enough, but there isn’t time enough in the day for that. He has an appearance this afternoon, and she’s determined that he will be on his best behavior.

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” She prompts, drawing her middle finger all the way out, only to join her index finger with it, sinking both back in in a slow, purposeful push. “You deserve to feel good.”

He’s nodding, babbling reedy nonsense through his breaths.

Madelyn smiles down at him. “Because you are good. My good, good boy,” she says, his balls tightening up in her palm as his muscles contract. She fucks him languidly with her fingers, scissoring them on every slow pull. “Aren’t you? Tell me you’re my good boy.”

“I’m your good boy,” he rasps out immediately, fists clenched so hard on her desk they shake, the leather of his gloves barely surviving his grip. If he were gripping her desk, he would have cracked it by now.

“That’s right. And you always will be,” she murmurs, sliding her hand from his balls to the underside of his cock. With only her middle finger, she touches a firm line from the base of his cock, following the thick, throbbing vein there, all the way up to the leaking head of it, and then all the way back down.

That’s all it takes to set him off. Homelander moans loud and low, his whole body going rigid as his cock jumps with each pulse of his release, ribbons of come audibly painting the floor beneath Madelyn’s desk. She slips her fingers out of him and settles both hands on his ass, massaging and hushing him through his explosive orgasm.

“There you go,” she whispers, maintaining those calming strokes as he comes gradually down from his high. He’s slumped completely down on her desk, but he’s managed not to destroy anything. That wasn’t always the case. These little “sessions” used to invariably involve some degree of destruction, be it strength or laser related, but over time she has trained him well. Aside from the spill, one would never even know unless they saw it happen. “That’s it. You’re wonderful.”

When his breathing evens out, and the aftershocks settle, Madelyn cleans her hands on a hand towel, and then helps him pull his pants back up. He turns around, and she tucks his soft cock back into the confines of his pants with all the care and attention of a lover, albeit a brisk one. She fastens his belt back into place, and smooths his suit out.

Homelander is smiling loosely down at her, cheeks flushed a vibrant pink. He’s got the look of a lovesick puppy, and he leans into her hand just like one when she reaches up to fix his hair. “Thanks,” he whispers, his tone warm and conspiratorial.

“It’s my pleasure,” she tells him sweetly, brushing back a couple loose locks of his hair. “Do you feel better?”

“Mhm,” he hums, leaning towards her. She can see in the half close of his eyes and the slight tension in his lips that he means to kiss her, but she deftly redirects him, and kisses his cheek. Certain rewards must be reserved.

“Good. Nothing makes me happier,” she tells him, giving his gloved hand a squeeze before she steps back. “Now, I have a meeting, but Ashley has your talking points for this afternoon. Will you pick them up from her on your way out?”

There’s a brief flash of disappointment in his gaze, but ultimately, the giddiness of his post orgasm haze wins out, and he nods. “Sure. You’re going to be there, right?” He asks, voice sounding small, despite the way he towers over her.

“Of course I will,” she says, smiling. “I’ll always be there for you.”

His own smile broadens, predator teeth hidden behind the wide spread of his lips. “Okay.”

He lingers only a moment longer before he clears his throat, and sheepishly excuses himself. Madelyn watches him go, waiting until the door closes behind him to sit. She inhales a slow, silent breath, sinking into her seat on the exhale. She stares down at the steaky, wet mess of come staining the carpet beneath her desk. After a beat, she reaches over for her intercom. “Ashley, make sure Homelander gets those documents for his appearance today. Also, send in the custodian. I spilled my coffee,” she lies smoothly, lifting her finger off the button.

Sometimes, keeping your business clean requires making manageable messes.

#i hope there's no egregious errors dfghj enjoy!#homelander x madelyn #homewell #homelander fanfiction #madelyn stillwell #my writing #smut

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