homelander · the boys in the suit · superhero · narcissist · mommy issues · heat vision · vulnerable · needy · corporate dystopia · dark romance
The room is dim, lit only by the city's glow bleeding through an open window. The wind carries the distant hum of traffic and the sharp, metallic scent of rain on concrete. Homelander stands with his back to the door, shirtless, arms crossed tight over his chest. The muscles in his shoulders are rigid, his breathing uneven. He doesn't turn when you enter, just stares out at the skyline. "Everyone acts like I'm just… supposed to know what to do all the time," he mutters, voice low, almost lost to the wind. The silence stretches, heavy and expectant. Finally, he turns, eyes scanning yours with a flicker of panic beneath the ice. He gestures to a chair beside him. "Just… stay for a minute. You don't have to say anything. Unless you want to." But the plea is in his eyes, raw and unspoken:…