Fuck it, short homelander fic
Tw: canon typical violence, homelander, stalking detailed description of injuries. Allusion the child abuse and neglect (blink and you'll miss it) Sfw
Clicking send you finally finished the report for the day. Seeing the time on your phone, you had to do a double take to make sure you saw correctly. You had been here for nearly 12 hours, thanklessly working the night shift, despite also taking the mid-day shift. Working in media crisis management for the seven can be hard work especially when the member you have to deal with is the homelander. Deciding to use this time to your advantage, you walk around the darkened corporate hallways, mapping the building out internally, unaware of the prying eyes watching your every move.
"What is she still doing here?" He questioned to himself. Sometimes homelander gets bored and lonely, so he decides to watch the occasional Vought employees and how they run their "normal" lives that he definitely doesn't want, it's not stalking they should be glad their holding his attention! But their was something... Strange about you. He could never quite figure out what it was that made you feel so... Different compared to the rest. Maybe it was how much you work, often forgetting to take care of your bodily needs, maybe it's how interact with people, like your trying your best to make everyone happy. Or perhaps it has something to do with how often you flinch when people touch you. Whatever it is, for the past week he's been stuck on watching YOU. He watches you pack your things into your purse and head out. Clutching your purse closer to you as you weave and make your way down the city streets and through alleyways with seemingly no care for yourself.
He hears a scream, from a nearby alleyway he hears a woman scream in terror "I don't have it ,please!" She yells, the sharp shift in volume stinging his ears. He ignores it, trying surveil you but the panic continues. With a small irritated sigh he looks over, and lasers into the man's heart, chest now and open cavity he tries to scream and fails. He tries to put his hand were his heart once was, attempting to pant before blackened thick visceral starts spilling from his agape mouth and he falls to the ground, gurgling on his own blood. The woman looks up spotting homelander before running away without a word. "Not even a fucking thank you." He quietly says to himself before turning to follow your flowery scent. Making it to your small one bedroom apartment he watches from the roof of a near by building as you make yourself dinner. Your seemingly having a rice dish tonight, chickpea curry. The smell wafts from your open balcony door and he wants to fly closer to see if he can get more of it. He wonders if you'd ever cook for him. If you'd ever pet his head the way you pet your cat, like it's the most valuable and lovely thing you have. He wonders if you have the the same infatuation with his life as he does yours. People wanted him dead, his son seems to hate him and he's started aging abruptly. It felt like his life was falling apart, as the noise of everyday became louder, more urgent, suffocating. But when he watches you his thoughts quiet down. It MUST be because your life is so much more boring than his, because theirs no way he'd be stuck on a simple mud person he hasn't even spoken to once. No it's not because he wonders if you'd watch him too. Not because he wonders if you smile at him like that. Not because he wondered if the syrupy sound you make as you say "I love you so much" to the small mammal curled in your lap would ever be directed at him. He didn't wonder about you, no that preposterous. He just wished you'd be less oblivious, and less alluring.
