Archive of Our Own ^beta

"It's time to come home." That was all that her Father had said before hanging up, after so many years that was all that he had to say to his (by her knowledge) youngest daughter. 'His little backup plan' Mary thought bitterly, a slight grimace gracing her face before she could school it back into place, but what could she expect from him. She hadn't been surprised that he had known how to reach her, but the fact that he had even called her personally, it was a feat of emotional consideration that she didn't believe he was even capable of.

A lump formed in the base of Mary's throat, a memory came to mind, the memory of the last time she had talked to him face to face. Father had only answered one, of the many questions she had bombarded him with. "When can I come home?" Mary's voice shook with a slight uncertainty, not truly wanting to know the answer. He looked down at her with disappointment, ‘Was it her question that had displeased him, or the way her voice shook when she asked it?’

"When you're perfect." At the time her Father's answer puzzled her, When would she know when she was perfect? It took a few years after she had been sent away for Mary to truly understand her fathers answer, and how he must have laughed at, or more likely pitied her naivety. After she had been sent away Mary had thrown herself into what she thought was perfection, from her education, to honing her abilities.

It hadn't taken long before she had been assigned missions, nothing too gruesome, yes there were murders, but mostly he had sent her on retrieval missions, everyone more dangerous than the next. In the end, she had found it added up little to nothing to her father, perfection is subjective, and since she was his daughter and not a mirror she would never be his definition of perfect.

But for the moment, none of that mattered, she was not perfect, but for right now she was useful, and in the end isn't that better. She had been staying in a (By her Fathers standards) a cozy loft near union square, to be honest she had made her way back home awhile ago, or at least close enough to it.

Mary had been reluctant to confront her Father, what would she even say to him 'Long time no see Father, why did you abandon me?' No it was better this way. He could pretend she didn't exist, and She could work through her daddy issues in peace, and for awhile it had felt like she was healing.

That was until He had called, mentally throwing her against a wall until she laid bleeding, bruised and begging for mercy. Was she really going to go to him, like a dog at his beck and call? He didn't own her (but he did) she didn't have to go (but she would).

She would always come to him, in the end he was the only reason she was here, and maybe if she went to him, just this one last time she could get what she had always wanted from him. Answers, satisfaction, understanding (love).

When the time came to meet him she had dressed in her 'work' clothes as requested, the ones she wore when she had to get up and personal with a target; a full latex getup with a veil, opera gloves, double slit skirt and thigh high boots to keep blood off her hair and body.

She could admit it was a bit promiscuous, and most likely sacrilegious, but it was easy to take off and clean, leaving her with less to worry about later, after everything was said and done. So that's how she had arrived, she had rarely wore her work outfit in daylight, but she hadn't been surprised by the looks she had gotten as she walked through the Vought tower doors.

It wouldn't be hard to recreate her outfit, by walking into the first sex shop you saw, and rummaging through their discount leather pile, but it worked well for her so she stood tall, her back straight and her hips swaying as she made her way to floor 82.

Stan Edgar had been standing in front of his desk, when Mary had walked into his office, a red head with a visually nervous disposition, looking like she was on the verge of tears stood near him.

"I-I'm just not sure how Homelander will take the news Sir, he's been through a lot and this just doesn't seem like-"

"Ms. Barrett you are the senior vice president of Hero management are you not?"

"Yes, Sir-"

"Recommended by Homelander"

"Yes, Sir but-"

"Then whatever you tell him is up to you, so however he takes the news is not my problem but yours, right?"

"...Right"

Looking up to finally acknowledge the nun in the room he gives one his ‘Smile for the camera' looks.

"Ah, and here she is Mother, thank you for coming here today, this is Ashley Barrett Vice president of Hero management."

Ashley steps towards Mary trying to keep a confident smile on her face after being steam rolled by Edgar.

"Hello it's-"

"No need for introductions right now, I'm sure you and Mother will have plenty of time to get acquainted, right now you should focus on informing Homelander that there's going to be a new Seven member arriving in” Looking down at his watch he smirks, “Half an hour."

Her smile turns uneasy, into one of obvious discomfort, and her face pales realizing time was of the essence. ‘Ashley’ almost stumbles over herself, making her way out of the door, and into the hallway, the sound of her making haste could be heard in the distance.

Finally, looking at her if she wasn't made of wallpaper and glue, Edger seemed to be waiting for her to speak, and like so long ago Mary wanted to ask her questions, even if they were ignored, even if she stumbled over them like a newborn dear.

She knew better though, and knew what she had to say, what he wanted to hear. Anxiety bubbled in her guts as she defaulted to what she had come to learn was a safe response, keeping her head slightly bowed she spoke. "Objective?"

She wanted to break down right there, why did she come here if she couldn't even look him in the eyes. Slowly lifting her head, his closed mouth smile had taken her off guard, he seemed pleased, 'Of course, my obedience after all this time must be comforting.'

He looked proud of himself, as if he had commanded the seas themselves. Speaking with an even tone, "We won't have time to go over your full objective, so I'll give you an abridged version. You will be working for Vought as a new member of The Seven, under the Moniker 'Mother', and for all intents purposes we will have no famil relations."

Not noticing, or maybe just not caring, that her stomach dropped at his words he continues. "It could compromise our other plans for you, we also wouldn't want anyone to think you were a nepto hire, no, for now I'll have you meet your new colleagues, and from now on unless out of suit of course, you are 'Mother'."

Finally noticing her unpleasant expression he pauses. "Questions?" A million and one questions were going through her head, the most prominent one screamed at her asking her, 'Why did I come here?' "No, Sir." This time showing his teeth, he smiles back at her, "Good."

Edgar had personally introduced Mother to The Seven with calm and precise wording, that could have almost been mistaken for boredom. Not looking Mary's way he began firing off her abilities, like he was selling a car. "Persuasion, Longevity, Durability, healing, flight, slightly translucent wings that can be used as a shield... or if need be a weapon." Pausing, finally taking a glance at Mary he smiled. "Almost perfect." Mary's heart leaped at the word perfect, but soon dropped as he continued his spiel, smile turning into a smirk.

"If not for her lack of overt superhuman strength, and naivety of course." 'Of course, she mockingly thought 'He has to keep me humble, but why couldn't he just keep the last part to himself.' Mary continued to smile as if she hadn't heard his little jab, instead took time to look over at Edgar, into his eyes she saw something that contradicted his words, ‘PRIDE’ ’’shined brightly almost overlapping planning, no.. scheming?

They seemed to be intertwined, and then ‘PREPARING’, preparing for what? In the very back buried deep in the shadows of his eyes laid ‘regret’, her face softened at this, it was weak but it was there. Turning way from him, she gives the supes In front of them her best Macy's sale commercial smile, but the only thing that ran repeatedly through her mind was, 'You should be sorry.'

There was one power that Mary was able to keep to herself, Intuitive empathy, she couldn't read minds but, more like see a persons intentions and emotions, which came in handy at times. Edgar had been honest when he had said she was naive, so she took time to look every seven member in the eye starting with Black Noir.

She couldn't really see his eyes, but knew him before she was sent away, at that time she got around that problem by holding his hands, her powers were weak then, she wondered what she could uncover about him now. The last thing she felt from him was uneasiness, bitterness, and HOPE, those feelings that she had unearthed from him had helped her heal, and made forgiving him easier, she would save him for later when they were alone.

She looked at Starlight, she seemed calm on the outside but underneath was a hectic curiosity of the unknown, the desire to stay positive with a slip of dread tucked away, Starlight seemed to want to make friends with her but was hesitant, 'What happened in the past, to make her so wary?'

Mary could read A-train in her sleep, insecurity, frustration, not focused on Mary but inwardly, but just like Starlight there is a curiosity, he wants to use Mary but for what? She didn't know yet but she was sure he'd be showing up at her door soon enough.

Queen Maeve was shrouded in a translucent disillusion, mixed with a foreboding that could barely hold back her feelings of hope, her smile was semi-honest, and unlike Starlight and A-train it seemed she was better at holding back her interests and curiosity in getting to know Mary, maybe she could take a deeper look later but she was running out of time, though reading surface level feelings took seconds, they began to add up.

The first thing that Mary notices is that Homelander isn't looking at her, not really, he's looking at Edgar, and no matter how much he's trying to hide behind that perfect plastic smile, his emotion flow like a nicked vein steadily and continuously. The flow almost over takes her, making her light headed, she tries to grab anything from his amalgamation of emotions.

Exasperation, paranoia, insecurity; Every emotion hit her like a bullet, forcing her to close her eyes, giving up on processing his emotions from the fear of passing out. When she finally opens her eyes, she realizes that he must have noticed her pulse spike, he's staring at her now, and she must look like prey from the way his canines glisten at the view of her.

The hand reaching out to touch Mary's shoulder almost makes her jump out of her skin, luckily she's able to stay calm on the outside, electing to instead smile at Edgar, whose hand was still placed on her shoulder. "Great Idea Mother, why don't you give us all an Idea of what you can do."

Confused at first by the seemingly random request, she notices that her wings have become visible, had they bristled when Edgar had startled her? Does he know, do they all know that her nerves are shot. Edgar must have noticed, and is giving her a chance to redeem herself. Perfect, she's not perfect, but she can be more than perfect, she can be useful.

Still nervous Mary nods at Edgar, taking a deep breath, 'Get it the fuck together, you can do this.' Squaring her shoulders she turns back to the one that caused this reaction, and looks him dead in the eyes. Instead of a harsh onslaught of emotions that had almost made her pass out before, the ones she's able to whittle out now are almost playful, mischievous, maliciously gleeful.

Homelander must have noticed she was nervous and assumed it was from him, a fire began to build in Mary's guts and her thoughts went wild, 'Is he laughing at me? Am I a fucking joke to him, I must not even come up on the radar of the so called, 'World's Greatest Superhero, What a fucking joke, I'm not weak, not anymore.'

Her canines weren't as big as Homelander’s, but they were just as sharp, baring her fangs she gives him the widest smile she can, and hopes that her message is clear, 'I'm not your prey and you're not the only predator here.'

The first words that comes out of Mother's mouth seems to startle everyone in the room, except of course Edgar whose hands are back to his side, and whose face was one of passing interests at best. Staring deep into Homelander's soul Mother ask, "Can you hear me big boy?" His face is one of confusion, but before he can try to laugh her question off she continues.

"I asked you a question, can you hear me Homelander, "Huffing out in indignation, he finally answers with clear irritation in his voice. "Yes, I can hear you." Visibly nervous he looks around the room, but his eyes end up back at Mother. "Look at me sweetie, look at Mommy..." With a slight furrowed brow he mutters out, "Mo...Mommy?"

She can't help but smile softly, "Yes, I'm Mommy and you're my sweetheart, do you understand?" Nodding he gulps down, knot stuck in his throat. "What would you do for Mommy?" Before he can swallow them, the words they're ripped out of his throat, "Anything, I would do anything for you Mommy." His eye’s full of desperation, he wanted, no needed to please her.

"Really?” He quickly nods his head, showing how eager he is to obey her.

"Then stand up and stand In front of Mommy." His smile turning into a grimace, Homelander grips the end of the table until it dents, he looks like he might resist her, but in the end he stands up and walks over to Mother, until he's standing right In front of her.

'Iodine, he smells like iodine, sharp, but there was something underneath the iodine, something sickeningly sweet, focus Mother!' She almost grimaces at the smell clinging to his body, but keeps her face neutral. "Mommy needs you to do a favor for her."

"Anything, Mommy I woul.." He was so far gone now. She places one finger softly on his lips, "Shusssh, Mommy knows Mommy understands, just do everything I say, okay Sweetheart?

Put your hands around my neck."

Nodding he slowly places them around her neck, and she can't help but smile.

"Now, snap my neck."

The atmosphere became uncomfortably thick, from her request, but Mary's smile stays soft as Homelander's hands embrace her neck, tighter and tighter, until the only thing in the room that can be heard is his strained breaths, and the groan of his leather gloves. This goes on until his grip loosens, looking down at her with the most pitiful expression.

"I'm sorry Mommy, I can't..I." Placing a hand on the side of his face she smiles as he leans into it, a light pout still gracing his face. "Heyyy, hey, don't make that face you were perfect, you ARE perfect. "Since you did such an amazing job, Mommy wants to give you a reward." Digging into a small pocket near her hip, Mother retrieves a creamy vanilla flavored piece of candy.

She unwraps it using her teeth, and her free hand. "Open your mouth." Placing the piece of candy directly on his tongue, she swears she can hear him moan. Ignoring his moan, and the fact that she definitely wasn't the only one to hear it, she softly pats him under his chin, signaling him to close his mouth. "Good boy, you can go sit in your chair now." Lightly sucking on his piece of candy, he sits down politely until the crack of her gloves brings him back.

It had been a while since she had been back to Vought, so waking up to Noir standing over her, makes Mother's heart jump out of her throat. Pulling her blankets closer to her bare skin, she watches as he signs, [Sorry, we go?] frowning, "Edgar?" Nodding he turns to let her get dressed, grabbing her phone from its charger she takes a second to look at the time.

Of course Edgar would call for her at ass-o-clock in the fucking morning, didn't he have anything better to do than to fuck with her sleep schedule. Since it wasn't specified she decided to wear a simple white crop top, with a white two split long skirt after jumping out the shower, not in the mood to put on all that leather so early in the morning. Walking towards the kitchen, she sees Noir staring at her while tapping his wrist, [late.] sighing, she walks in front of the stove top while placing her hands on her hips.

"Look just because he wants to meet me before even the birds have time to scream at the sky, doesn't mean I have to rush to see him, and it especially doesn't mean I have to skip breakfast. So you can sit and wait for me to finish, or you can knock me out and drag me to him, because that is the only way you're going to get me there any quicker." He takes a moment to think about it before deciding to sit down, and it's not long before a plate is placed in front of him.

Touching down in front of Vought HQ, she wastes no time making her way to Edgar's office, "Mother, how nice of you to finally show up." His tone making her bristle with irritation, 'First he wakes me up at an ungodly hour, now he wants to berate me when I don't come running, also I’m out of costume, why is he using my Supe name?'

She shoots daggers at him. "You're welcome and thank you for waking me up so bright and early." A tight smile graces her lips. "Noir and I were able to have a lovely breakfast because of you." Seeing she was clearly in a mood; he decides to egg her on further. "You're welcome, though I have no idea where you could have acquired your disregard for others time, though I guess neither do you." He smiles when she stays silent, obviously striking a chord.

"Now that morning pleasantries are done, I can tell you what your assignment is." Sliding a USB stick across his desk, Edgar stands up from his chair. "How do you feel about Homelander, I hear he may have given you some trouble a while ago, but since then has let you be." She had forgotten all about that, merely sweeping it under the rug like most embarrassing, and horrible things in her life, why did he bring it up now?

"You know he has a track record that says you should have disappeared that day, that's why I'm more confident than ever, that you'll be able to do what needs to be done." Though she had spent most of her life abroad, she had heard things in passing, about missions gone wrong, and Vought workers going missing, growing more anxious by the second she speaks up.

"And what exactly is that." Giving pause, he takes a second to think but continues. "You're going to be his companion… his best friend." Anxiety flowing over, unable to hold her tongue anymore, her feelings pour over. "Fr-friend? Best Fucking Friend, that's why you called me hear, is this why you're wasting my time, giving me hope!" Her voice begins to raise. "You may not understand, but this is import-"

"No, no, fuck you, do you hear yourself right now? You uprooted me from my life, just when I was becoming comfortable… secure… HAPPY! I was happy for once in my life.” He lets her continue on her tirade. “Now, what? You now want me to play what, babysitter to your pet project gone wrong? You know what I've tried to be patient, I've tried giving you time, but I'm tired of tiptoeing around you, scared that you'll never talk to me again.”

She was breathing hard, trying to keep any composure she had left. “That you'll leave me forever, so please just put me out of my misery, and just answer my questions. Do you regret throwing me to the wolves, did you miss me while I was gone, do you love me?" "…" The silence is deafening, he hadn't said a word, but had answered all her questions, eye twitching under the stress, she focuses on her heartbeat.

'Was I just a pet, no not a pet, people adore their pets, would die for them… I was a tool, a means to an end, FINE, then to ashes it is.' The cloud in her mind parts, and everything seems so much clearer now. 'Fuck him, fuck this company, and the building it resides in.' Tilting her head, her smile must have unnerved Edgar for just a microsecond, and for the first time in his eyes she saw uncertainty.

Unable to stop herself her smile widens, "Objective." Eyes now narrowed and full of suspicion, he clears his throat. "Are you okay, we can reschedule-" 'I'm going to burn this place to the ground.' "I'm great, I think I was just too uncertain of my place in life, really my place in your life." 'Cleansed in fire.'

"People can become emotional, when uncertainty hits them." 'Nothing but ashes.' "Now that everything has been cleared up, my mind finally feels clearer."

'Ashes.' "I'm focused, I now know my purpose, and now I can serve you better." 'Ashes' "So let's not waste any more time, we both are going to be very busy people soon." 'Ashes.' Nodding but still on guard, he keeps his assignment precise and clear. "As I was saying, I brought you here for one thing, and that is to manage Homelander, I am under no great illusion that he will happily accept retirement.”

“He'll need to be eased into termination, while his replacement can be perfected, and that time will come, but before then, we need him docile and willing enough to step down on his own, and that is where you come in. The fact that you were able to manipulate his mind so easily means that I chose correctly" 'Perfected, no one's a human to him just say trained like a dog, and how many times does he plan to do this, I'll live forever so-'

"Great, of course all need a few things from you." As if he's trying to get her smile to falter, he smirks at her, to make her feel like an idiot, "Naturally if you take time to look through your contract you'll see that everything you need will be taken care of, that is, as long as you don’t break your contract." Smile never wavering, she replies in kind "Yes, yes, are there any other requirements, I should be aware of at the present."

"You will be required to stay in the tower, all medical history will be recorded and taken care of by and at our Vought approved clinic, and you are forbidden from engaging in promiscuous behavior, and dating those not first approved by Vought, if you decide to read it, there’s a celibacy clause in your contract, no dating or sexual escapades for the first year"

"That makes sense, though a bit invasive, but understandable; My stove, final decision on what I wear, where I work, make it eight months, a year is excessive, and my own advocate personally picked out by me." "Done, done, done, done, though your advocate will have to go through a background check, just to be safe-"

"Yup, yup, yup, sounds great." Holding eye contact, Edgar looks deeply into her eyes. "I want to give you one small piece of advice, that you would do good to never forget, never cross any lines you can't erase by yourself."

Making her way back to her apartment Mary hadn't even been surprised when she opened her door to find it empty, bare besides the wallpaper she had personally put up, not being able to help herself she begins to walk around, taking in her surroundings as if she'd never see them again, and would she? In her mind she had talked a big game, she had been fuming on her way home, wanting to set a literal fire to Vought, the only thing Edgar ever seemed to care about other than…Will you still love me tommorooowww

Pulling out her phone she glanced at the caller ID, and mumbles, "Vic." She shook her head, she had once believed that although they had different beginnings in the end they resided in the same boat, but now she wasn't too sure. There of course had been times when she wanted to make Edgar set himself on fire, but Vic had always been there to calm her down, growing up she'd lecture her about hormones and emotions as if they were something you could grow out of with age.

With any assignment that was forced on her, Vic was there to nudge her forward, set her head straight, she had once loved the thought of having a big sister, but now she had to wonder had everything Vic said to her just been a ploy to keep her in line, and was Edgar now using her to do the same to Homelander? Finger hovering over the answer button she pressed down. "Hello?"

It had been the same ol’ bullshit, just like she knew it would be, sisterly platitudes to keep her docile, and most importantly never questioning Edgar, that’s who Vic was doing all this for. Mother couldn’t believe she never realized it, but Vic almost never called her unless she was on the edge of breaking out of her assigned role/mission, Vic ended the call as soon as she was sure that Mother would fall in line. Every time Mary wonders if that hollow feeling in her chest could get any deeper, the ones that she care about grab their shovels and go to work.

Her new apartment on floor 99 hadn’t been too bad, and for now Edgar seemed to be honoring her contract, there it was, the only thing that she had kept purely for herself, walking over to her kitchen it was the only thing that was truly for her. She sometimes wonders if she hadn't been born a Supe would the culinary arts been her calling, supe children rarely get to pick their future careers, often pulled along by whatever power that makes them useful.

August had been the very example of that, they had met in college, August had been an amazing note taker, able to strip down information to its bare importance, with a photo memory, and a built-in lie detector, that would have made him a perfect partner in business.

There was so much potential in him, but instead he was given some shitty Supe name and told to pose for pictures in a mall, and since that's all he's ever known that's what he did, barely being able to make rent.

When she first presented August’s credentials to Edgar he had scoffed, it was obvious what his opinions on Supes were, Mother paid him no mind. August was in the system already and they knew that he was somewhat trustful, so there shouldn’t be any problem, and there wasn't. Edgar begrudgingly approved August's employment as her advocate/secretary.

August is the one who informs Mother that there was a meeting in the seven-conference room. “Did you remember to order the drinks, and did you remember that I wanted a large water extra ice with a lemon.” The last thing she needed was coffee to make her feel jittery. “Yes, Mother.” She wish he wasn’t so formal, but maybe it was better this way.

“Good, we should make a good impression shouldn't we.” Walking into the hall Mother turns to August. “I can make it there by myself, why don't you go and grab the drinks and meet me in the conference room.” August gives her a Curt nod as he walks towards the elevators, she walks towards the conference room, and when she arrives all the current seven members are already seated.

Rushing into the first empty room he could find, slamming the door behind him, Homelander is in disbelief at what he had witnessed at The Seven meeting room. Even Stormfront hadn’t been bold enough to do that in front of an audience.  

Unzipping the front of his suit, taking off his gloves, Homelander moans as he frees his dick, thinking of how Mother was like a walking talking porno mag. What had she been thinking wearing that outfit, no bra, it was like she wasn’t even trying to dodge the ice water that hit her body. Mother hadn’t even had the shame to cover herself and instead let him watch as her nipples harden, leaving nothing to the imagination. 

Breathing deeply, Homelander grips himself tighter, remembering the way she smiled and for a second wondered whose attention she was trying to get? Mother had been looking at him, but had also been a bitch to him every time she occupied his space, even today… ‘You want to fuck me so bad.’ He did.

Frustration plagued Homelander as he sped up his movements; he had to be quick. Mother had been scheduled to move into Stormfront’s old apartment, but she hadn’t the last time he had checked. Homelander checked once, maybe twice (a week) since she had been introduced; she had mostly disappeared but he could sometimes smell her on Noir. 

Homelander wanted to ask Noir about her but decided against it, even though it was his right as team leader to know where she was. If he started looking into Mother’s whereabouts, it might get back to Edgar. Frowning, Homelander almost loses his hard on thinking about the trouble Edgar would give him if he found out Homelander was sniffing around the little flesh light.

Spitting directly on his dick, Homelander slowly works his way back up, thinking of the way Mother had demanded that sub-human show him respect, how she had defaulted to his command, how she was the only one on this goddamn team to show him some fucking respect, the way she called him Homie, and the way her lips pouted. “Fuck.” Homelander tries to keep his voice down as his come hits the floor in ropes.  

Breathing hard, Homelander looks down at the mess in front of him and notices this load had been especially thick. He hadn’t accepted any comfort from Stormfront thanks to Mother pointing out the smell, and now that he knew it was there he couldn't ignore it. Running his fingers through his hair Homelander puts himself away, puts on his gloves then leaves the room with his come seeping into the carpet. 

It takes a couple of weeks but Homelander finally ‘Mistakenly’ walks towards Stormfront’s old apartment, ‘Mother’s new apartment’ catching Mother leaving her apartment dressed in what could be described as workout wear. Sighing he was only slightly disappointed in her change of clothing.

Homelander hadn’t expected for Mother to walk around every day in wet clothing, but the view she had given him (And unfortunately everyone else in the Seven conference room) had made dealing with the day to day bullshit worth it. It wasn’t all bad; what she was wearing now showed off how curvy she was. He couldn't help pausing, biting his lip as his eyes laid claim to her. 

When Mother noticed Homelander staring at her, his cheeks grow hot, but he doesn’t avert his gaze and instead of ignoring him like he expects her to she smiles at him, taking him off guard. He turns around to see if anyone’s behind him, but no one is in the hallway but them; Mother shocks him even further by walking towards him, ‘Of Fucking course they bounce.’  

Eyes bright and smile even brighter Mother puts her hands on her hips, standing in front of Homelander as if they were friends, “Just the Hero I wanted to see, I’m on my way to see my new suit.” Waiting for her to elaborate he looks confused as to why she’s telling him this, “And?” Seeing Mother pout brings his mind back to that day and he can’t help glancing at her lips. “I want you to give me your opinion.”  

Shifting side to side Homelander was now nervous, what game was she playing? “Why, would you-” Reminding him of her bad habits, Mother excitedly cuts Homelander off, “I heard that your key inputs on your own suit design made it unforgettable, and I agree the flag was an amazing Idea, very memorable.”  

Mother had also heard that was the last time he was given autonomy, but she would keep that part to herself. Looking down at her with interest, Homelander doesn’t answer Mother immediately, making her smile waver. “Ah, sorry you must be busy I-” It was now his turn to cut her off, “I’m not, I mean I am busy but I don’t mind helping you out, I wouldn’t be a good leader if I didn’t help guide the new family member”  

They begin walking to the hero suit and costume department. Gaining a few curious looks on their way, Mother smiles up at Homelander, “You truly are the dad of America, definitely something to inspire to.” He chuckles not quite sure what to make of her statement. It was true that he was a father, but the way she had worded it made him sound so old, human.  

Homelander smiles looking down at Mother and how her gait makes her bounce so… “So about what happened with drink guy.” She slows down looking up at Homelander, visibly embarrassed, “Sorry about that, I may have overreacted a bit.” His smile widens; it was like he couldn’t help himself. He loved to tease her, and she made it so easy, “Just a little?” Speeding up Mother decides she’d rather get to their destination sooner than later, “Should I have just killed him? And don’t tell me that all life is precious, I’ve killed enough people not to adhere to that bullshit opinion.”  

Looking around Homelander seems spooked but excited at Mother’s candor; the fact that she would just openly admit that where people could hear her, “I’m just surprised that someone with your powers would have such a blasé reaction to death.”  

Standing in front of the costuming and design doors, she sighs, “Death is one of the last natural things in this world.” Looking over at Homelander Mother chooses her next words carefully. “Even Gods are granted it’s sweet embrace.” His eyebrow slightly raises before giving a hearty chuckle, “Wow, Look we’re here.” Dismissing her serious tone he opens the door in front of them.  

As soon as they walk through the door, someone comes up to them with a smile on their face, “You must be Mother.” Nodding she watches as they turn to give Homelander a look of confusion. “Um, Homelander is there anything we can help you with?”  

Trying her best not to roll her eyes at the designers clear disdain for Homelander,  Mother had to wonder if these people had any sense of self-preservation, “We’re here together, He’s going to look over the design of my suit and improve it if needed.”  

Their eye twitches as they try to work through what they're being told. “Oh, well there won’t be a need for that; Edgar personally saw to your design, no more leather for you.” Handing her a portfolio of her new suits design, “Edgar wanted to focus more on the heavenly and healing aspects to your power.” 

Clicking her tongue at the white and gold design, she can’t hold back the contempt in her voice, “I thought he would.” Mother barely gives the portfolio a glance and instead turns to Homelander, “What do you think?”  

Handing the examples over to Homelander, the designer who had looked miffed by his presence looks put out that Homelander is even getting the option to voice his opinions. “It’s fine but-”  

They interrupt Homelander, “Edgar already approved everything.” Sending them an icy glare Mother shuts them up and urges Homelander to finish his thoughts. “But?” “It too closely reassembles…”  

He waits for her to finish his sentence, “Starlight.” Shrugging Homelander gently places the folder back into Mother’s hands, “It’s just what I see.” She hands the portfolio back to the designer, “Change it.” She turns to Homelander, “Color?” He doesn’t pause before answering “Mauve.” Now the designer looks not only confused but frustrated, “But Mr. Edgar…”  

Homelander knows exactly what that means, and rolls his eyes waiting for her to agree to the original. Mother waits for them to elaborate but they don’t, not expecting push back. “I’m sorry is that suppose to mean something to me?” Not picking up the lack of fucks in her voice the designer gives Mother a patronizing look, “If I tell Edgar the reason his vision isn’t realized he might have a talk with you.”  

She gives them a faux look of concern, “Ohhhh, you’ll sic Edgar on me?” She pulls out her phone pressing the call button “One second.” To be honest Mother doesn’t expect Edgar to answer the phone but as soon as he does she puts it on speaker “Hello, Mother?” “You’re on speaker, we’re here with a hero costume designer.”  

She gives them a scathing look before continuing, “And they’re under the impression that you have last say over what I wear, is this true?” “I would not consid-” Frustrated She cuts Edgar off. “Just answer the question.” Hearing the hostile inflection in her tone both the designer and Homelander give her a double take. Edgar sighs, displeased at her abrasive attitude, “No, this is incorrect, I hop-” 

Hanging up, after getting what she wanted from Edgar she looks deeply into the Designer’s eyes, “Did you hear that?” They look nervous now, as if they had finally realized who they’re speaking to. “Yes, Ma’am.”  

They try to turn to leave but she places a hand on their shoulder whispering in their ear softly enough that only Homelander could hear, “And never question the leader of The Seven again,” Color drains from their face as they hear the unspoken threat, “I didn’t mean…ye-Yes Ma’am.” Homelander glances at Mother as she waves the stammering designer off, irritated on his behalf. Homelander didn’t need it, but when was the last time someone stood up for him like Mother? 

After a few measurements, they begin walking back to her apartment when Mother turns to Homelander, “Thank you for taking time out of your day to help me, all of this can be so daunting.” Basking in her appreciation, he motions his hand relaying that it was nothing, “I’m just doing what all great leaders do, lead.”  

She nods, stopping in front of her door, realizing too late that he’s expecting to be invited in. Seeing her hesitation he smiles at her, “I still have time, I could give you some pointers on interior styles.” Homelander playfully rolls his eyes, “Not to brag, but I have quite the painting collection.” Mother smiles back at him but doesn’t let him in, instead in a calm tone she softly declines his offer, “As I stated at my introduction I have a no suit policy, but I really appreciate your offer.”  

Homelander’s smile tightens; Mother’s words seem to have rubbed Homelander the wrong way. Looking in his eyes she watches as his emotions instantly shift from ‘bubbly’ and ‘warm’ to ‘Embarrassment, and Disappointment’.  

Mother can see the malicious intent in Homelander’s eyes before it reaches his lips but behind those malicious emotions she can see ‘sadness’ and ‘loneliness’ rooted in his core. “You know Mother, you seem to have a special relationship with Edgar, does he have to ask to come in?” 

Ignoring the implication Mother tries to stay calm while keeping a smile on her face. Homelander was trying to make her feel as embarrassed as he felt and was doing it in the best way he could, through juvenile bulling. 

Closing her eyes for a second she sighs, “The best way I can describe my relationship with Edgar is one of a benefactor and beneficiary, he’s not even a friend.” Folding his arms the hostility radiating off of him almost gives Mother a nose bleed. “So he’s your client and you’re what, His Escort?” Tilting his head in curiosity his voice grows low, “How much does he pay you for a blow job?”  

Mother hadn’t expected him to ask for her rates, but she shouldn’t be surprised. He’s trying to hurt her, but she had to wonder if she threw out a number how quickly he would match it. Homelander is easier to read than a child's book, and even with all his feelings of embarrassment, sadness, loneliness, and disappointment bombarding the fuck out of her, one emotion was a constant companion to whatever emotions he would throw her way. 

Lust; it sat there and had only grown bigger since their eyes connected. “I’m sorry,” Homelander bites his lip then smiles at her, misinterpreting Mother’s apologies as submission, “It’s alright, I’m sure you were just confused.” Unfolding his arms he moves closer, getting ready to be let in. 

She puts a hand on his chest before he can get any closer, “I’m sorry, for orgasming in front of you, it was inappropriate, and now you have distorted ideas of who I am.” Anger and frustration back in full force Homelander towers over Mother. 

Homelander places his hand on her door frame while leaning towards her, his voice was low and deadly. “You were practically begging Noir and A- Train to visit you, so is my view of you distorted? Or are you just a high end slu-”  

Someone clears their throat behind them. “Am I interrupting something?” Mother looks under Homelander’s arm to see Starlight out of suit. Before he can say anything she tries to clear things up, though even to a casual observer the workplace harassment that was taking place was clear as day. “No, Homelander here is just dropping me off after helping me put the finishing touches on my new suit.”  

Watching Homelander tightening and relaxing his hand, Starlight doesn’t fully believe Mother and doesn't leave; instead she stands there waiting for Homelander to move. Huffing while pushing off the wall, he doesn’t even say goodbye as he stomps away, fist gripped tightly.  

Exhaling, Mother glances over at Starlight before gesturing to her door, “Did you want to come in?” She does, and Mother offers her refreshments while getting weather talk thrown at her. Starlight gets a serious look on her face, warning her about Homelander. Mother thanks her for the warning, not wanting to linger on the occupational dangers of Vought, before wishing her a great rest of her day. 

Weeks go by and Mother gets a visit from all of the Seven in some capacity. Most memorable is when A-train stops by. Mother had been given a small file on each member so she had known that A-train would come around sooner or later for her ‘services’. 

When she’s finished with him she’s sweating and her heart is pounding; she almost faints but manages to stay awake long enough to tell A-train goodnight. He only looks slightly concerned before returning her farewells. 

Mother can feel herself healing as she watches A-train turn the corner, but before she can fully get back inside and close her door she feels a tidal wave of irritation coming from the other side of the hallway. Lo and behold, Homelander comes strutting down the hall dressed in jeans, a jacket, and a jumper. 

Smile tight, Homelander tries to hide his frustration, “Funny bumping into you here, was that A-Train I heard scurrying away?” Mother steps fully into the hallway, closing her door behind her. His eye slightly twitches giving away his displeasure at her closing her door, denying him access to her. Smiling back at him she ignores his question, “Hello Homelander, how are you tonight?” 

By the way his teeth grind he must have noticed she dodged his question, “Fine, just taking a stroll.” Mother places a hand over her mouth letting out a fake yawn, “It’s really late..” His face cracks; he doesn’t need to bother asking, she’s not letting him in.  

Huffing his eyes flash red before he screws his eyelids tight, they look almost wet, “You know what, fuck it, I’m trying to be nice, wasting my time trying to make you feel welcomed, and all you’ve done is give me mixed messages.”  

“I’m sor-” Frustration overtakes him as he raises his voice “Stop apologizing!” closing his eyes again he tries to slow down his breathing, running his fingers through his hair he lets out a deep sigh, “Just uh. Forget it.” Homelander turns away from Mother like when he had gotten interrupted by Starlight, his hands tightened into a fist. Homelander doesn’t ‘bump’ into Mother anymore after that, not that she doesn’t still feel his presence. 

Late at night while laying in bed she lets her powers reach out as far as they can, catching frustration whipping through the air. When she catches lust mixed in with his frustration Mother ponders whether or not she should start wearing clothing to bed, but decides against it if she changed her sleeping habits he might figure out that she knew he was there, besides she didn’t care if he saw her naked or not. 

Letting out a sigh, Mother stretches her power out and just as she expected there he was, just as sexually frustrated as the other nights he had sat outside her window doing God knows what. Mother wants to run out on to her balcony and scream at him that he wasn’t the only one sexually frustrated, but he didn’t see her flying around broadcasting it to the whole world.

Glancing over to her nightstand she sits up, digs into her drawer, and pulls out the star spangle banger laying on the bottom of her end table. It had been put in the house warming gift left on her counter when she first moved in. 

Mother had no problems with sex toys or using them; matter-of-fact she hoped Vought would give her her own soon, but that gift bag was just one complaint away from a sexual harassment scandal. 

It had been awhile since she had last gotten laid and with the legal chastity belt Vought had put on her, it would be awhile more. Needing a little lubrication, she takes the tip of the dildo to her tongue and slowly does a magic trick by making it disappear down her throat.

Mother doesn’t need to do all this but if he wants to watch her why not put on a show. With the dildo still in her throat she maneuvers her body until she’s laying on her back facing the window where she knows he is lurking. Slowly removing the dildo from her throat, she begins to run the tip up and down her clit before plunging it into her pussy,  letting out a long moan as it gets deep enough to tickle her cervix. Mother wonders if it was a life size replica, the curve alone had her curling her toes. 

Letting out a sigh of satisfaction as she almost gets to the base of the toy, she barely has to expand her abilities. His emotions were like a shock wave sweeping over her body and he wanted her bad. Maybe she'd let Homelander fuck her; even if the sex was trash it'd still be a good conversation opener. Dragging his dildo in and out of her pussy with one hand she takes her other and uses her fingers to help bring her closer; this was a demonstration but resolution was soon approaching.

Hips rocking against the dildo she’s almost there; she almost calls out Homelander’s supe name but has a better idea. He needs to know that being Homelander would get him nothing from her, so as she reaches climax coming all over his replicated dick, she hopes he takes note of whose name she moans out, “John, fuck John please, want it so bad! m-Mr. Gillman!”  

Wings opaque and stretched out in satisfaction, Mother deeply breathes in and out, letting her body come down from euphoria. It’s her post nut clarity that tells her that might not have been the best thing to do in front of a man she knew partook in monstrous activities, and who she was trying to push into retirement. But her fears slowly dissipate as the seconds then minutes pass and nothing happens.

Mother removes the toy from her pussy, cleaning it off then putting it away, places the covers over her body and turns out her lights. She had a feeling that something was holding him back from busting down her door, but she’s not sure what or who that was yet. Either way she sleeps lightly at night not knowing why he’s holding back.

The first time she had really ‘crossed the line’ as Edgar put it, had been an accident and by the looks of it, an unexpected one. Mother had been in The Seven for a couple months now, she had personally met most of the members. All of them had their problems, but she could say without a doubt Homelander was the most fucked of the bunch.

There was something deeply wrong with him; it seemed almost innate, as if what made him unnatural was woven into his DNA. Sure they all were Supes, but there was something so damn uncanny about him that unnerved her to her very core. 

That's why she had been more surprised than anyone when her hand cupped Homelander's. Where had all that courage come from? She didn't know, but it had immediately left when she heard the crack of his leather gloves in her ears. With her heart in her throat, she steeled herself. He hadn’t done anything to her; really he had tried his best to ignore her, only watching from afar. 

She was sure it was his way of punishing her for denying him entry twice; she wouldn’t have cared but his behavior hindered her progress. And the way he would linger around her apartment unnerved her. She had been surprised to learn that he particularly liked to watch her cook; he couldn't hurt her physically, but she remembered what Homelander said, “There are things worse than physical pain.” and she believed him. 

What if he exploded right here? Trying to push her anxiety away, she turned to the source of all her fears, and she could see it. All the anger, heavy as ocean waves beating against the side of a light house; the irritability sharper than flint, that if struck would burn the whole world down.

Deeper, past the orgy of blunt emotions, she saw the softer ones, the ones he seemed to want to hide more than anything. The hurt, confusion, suspicion, and in his opinion the most vile of all, hope. Hope, he still had hope? Hope for what... His grip tightened; she realized she had been staring, staring at a smile as blinding as the sun and into eyes it never reached. She had felt him drowning, and one of the rules when someone is drowning never take your eyes off of them. So she gathered all the courage she could muster; from the bottom of her soles to the tip of her head she hoped this would work. Mother matched Homelander's smile, pushing as much sincerity and adoration as she could to the forefront of her visage.  

She pushed so hard that at first, even Homelander was taken back, his eyes giving a slight squint. The confusion she had seen deep within him surfaces; her smile would have fooled anyone else of her sincerity, but he could hear her pulse beating faster than anyone who was genuine had the right to. She thought of the advice her older 'sister' had once given her years ago, "You don't have to lie, but you don't have to tell them the full truth, let them fill in the cracks with whatever lie they want to, they always will." 

The truth is, you are afraid; he most likely already knows that you're afraid he’ll make a scene, you were afraid of him. He can only suspect this, so use that fear. Don't lie, just let him fill in the cracks. Leaning toward him she puts one hand on his shoulder almost as if she was using him for support.

Sliding her other hand out of his and sliding it slowly in-between his torso and upper arm, she gives him a slight squeeze and whispers in his ear, "Sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, I'm just so...” She pauses and looks at the cameras flashing in front of them then looks back at him, “…You're our leader, my leader."  

His face goes from slight confusion to an almost condescending smirk as if he had figured it all out, as if she had been as obvious as a child trying to lie. She didn't need to say anything else, he understood loud and clear. She was nervous from all the flashing lights, and she needed him, her benevolent leader that she trusted to comfort her. 

SHE NEEDED HIM. He is a hero and most likely her favorite. She could have gone to anyone, but of course she went to him. He's the best. She trusts him. He's her hero. Letting out a slight chuckle almost mockingly "Of course." Had it been shyness this whole time? He had to punish her by ignoring her but he still watched over her, making sure she was okay like a good leader would. He had been rewarded for his diligence as he watched her pump herself full of his silicone dick; he should have known it was shyness. She most likely had a crush too.

Homelander’s eyes slowly rake down Mother’s body. It had been a shame that her suit hadn’t been ready during the filming of the new Seven movie. She had only been given a small role dressed in her civvies. Mother had shown up to meetings dressed in more modest wear of late too, so this had been the first time he had gotten to see her fully suited up.

Homelander couldn’t deny she looked beautiful, like a goddess, like mother earth, gia herself. Unable to really enjoy Mother’s new look, Homelander's thoughts are interrupted by the shrill and obnoxious voice of a reporter covering Mother's debut and trailer launch for Dawn of the Seven. 

“Homelander can you give us an update on your Nazi girlfriend!” Fixing his mouth to regurgitate Stan’s stupid man in love speech, Mother places a hand on his shoulder, stopping him before he can utter a single word. Feeling Edgar’s hard stare directed at him, Homelander was eager to just get the whole bullshit speech over with. So when she does this, he looks down at her in confusion. Before Homelander can ask what Mother needed, he watches as she looks straight at the reporter who brought up the question and scoffs. Whatever fears that might have been plaguing her were now wiped away by the introduction of the vermin in front of her. Gliding over to the offender, Mother singles them out. Looking down at them with as much as disdain as she could generate without seeming too hostile; she pouts and gestures to her body, “I’m wounded, a woman as beautiful as sin itself is standing before you and all you can talk about is some Nazi bitch that hasn't shown her face in months?”

Expletives seem to come natural to Mother. It was something that PR had tried to wring out of her, but her tongue stayed sharp as ever. Besides, she wasn’t here to maintain her public image or to make fans. She was here to complete a mission, and it started by fixing Homelander’s approval rating and this is where she would start. Instead of averting their gaze, the reporter sneers at Mother, dying to put her in her place, “We have a reliable source that, that Nazi is still living with Homelander. What would you say to that?” Mother doesn’t miss a beat. Rolling her eyes, she sends a smirk across the crowd, “I would just ask where you got your sources from because last time I slept over she wasn't there.” She knows how it sounds, and she knows how they’ll take it; let them fill in the cracks. A pregnant pause takes up room, waiting for Mother to explain herself. Instead she stares straight at the reporter, smirk never wavering.

Not backing down, they turn their full attention to Mother, “Are you saying you slept over at Homelander’s apartment?” No dates, no times, no other information, just nonchalance, “A few times.” Mother should be embarrassed to admit that, and they’re racking their brains on why she isn’t, “Why?” She leans in giving the reporter a toothy smile, begging them to ask her what they really wanted to know, “Why not?” They were grasping straws; either it never crossed their minds that she could be fucking Homelander or they were too scared to ask, opting to circle back to old reliable, or at least what was reliable, “With the whole stormfront-”

Holding a hand up, Mother signals she has heard enough and she was sure the public had too, “Enough about the Nazi. I'm right here and this is my debut; I would like some nice pictures to place in my apartment.” Placing her hand on her hip she looked so unimpressed at their attempts to center Stormfront. “Unless you have something interesting to ask that hasn't been asked by a hundred reporters better than you.” Mother takes a peek behind the now red faced reporter and gives a wave to the people with cameras, “Can you let the lovely camera people behind you do their job?”

Face lacquered with embarrassment, the reporter had tried to ignore the new addition to the seven. But now they had lost the support of the other reporters, who now had front row seats to witness the show off between the fresh faced Seven member and the supposedly seasoned reporter. “Homelander, does she speak for you?”

Gliding back over to Homelander, Mother places her hand on the side of his chin, running one finger down his neck. Feeling him shiver under her touch she whispers in his ear, “Tsk, don't worry about them right now just take my body and show me how to pose.”

Homelander couldn’t be misreading Mother’s signals could he? Looking down at her he nods, “Mother's right let's not Sully her debut with old news instead...” looking up and down at her body he reaches for her but hesitates for a second, looking in her eyes. A question flies past Mother, ‘Does he want permission to touch me? Guess there's a first time for everything.’ Inwardly chuckling, she nods relaxing her body to let him do as he pleased without resistance. 

Posing Mother like a life size doll, a real, real doll, Homelander surprises Mother by stepping out of frame after frame, every pose. Quickly running out of chances, Mother grabs his wrist before he can step back, “Take this last one with me.” Looking her in the eyes, Homelander nods, now letting her take the reins, interested in what she’ll do.

Mother poses him in one of the generic hero poses she saw Homelander frequently use, and she could feel him rolling his eyes at her basic choices. Throwing her own spin into it, she has her wings become opaque and spread out. Moving behind him, she slowly lifts herself off the ground until her back hits his, their shoulders align, and the flashes go crazy.

Just as Mother had expected, Edgar had called her to his office as soon as he could, not eve n trying to hide his distaste at her recent behavior.

Still not saying anything, Edgar just stares at her, this is how he had always operated when it came to Mary.

Using his silence until she was quaking with uncertainty, until she was begging for him to punish her just for it to be over.

“It seems you’ve been around bad influences.” Edgar wanted Mother to submit, but instead of apologizing until her throats raw she shocks him.

At least she assumes it’s shock that’s on his face by the way his eyebrows lift, as the first few words leave her lips.

Mother’s face screws up, “Oh cut the bullshit, a few months here didn't change me, all it did was affirm what I’ve always known but was too afraid to admit.”

Pausing she lets out a deep sigh, “That you've never loved nor cared about me, and that I've always been a means to an end.”

Mother expects to be dismissed immediately but instead Edgar doubles down, slowly shaking his head, “You are so ungrateful, you've always been ungrateful I've given you freedom, I've given you leeway, much more than I did Victor-”

Mother can’t take much more of him tying to shame her, gaslight her into submission.

She feels like she came back wrong, how could she have craved approval from such a petty man all these years, she’ll never know.

The subtle crack in her voice betrays the fact that his disapproval still hurt her, “Yeah you didn't have to substitute for not loving her, all you’ve ever given me was neglect, I was a latchkey kid from birth.”

Like he hadn’t heard a word she said he dismisses the distress in her voice, “Even now you're talking back to me, disobeying me, undermining me. I gave you a job, I gave you a purpose.”

His voice goes soft, filled to the brink with the condescending tone he got when he thought he had gotten one over on an opponent. “Though maybe you'd be better off without one.”

Edgar’s words make something deep within her twitch, “Maybe, I didn't ask to be here, you asked me, if you want me to go, I'll go but don't forget why I'm here.”

He had dragged Mary from the life she had been steadily building without him and couldn't seem to understand nor care why she might not be appreciative.

A memory passes by her eyes, the memory of Edgar whispering in her ear, “All you have to do is be a good girl.” clutching Mary’s shoulders forcing her to watch a screen, planting the seed of fear deep within her.

Mother scowls at Edgar with disgust, “Or do you plan to finally follow through on your little promise?”

Lifting a single eyebrow Edgar clasps his fingers together, “What promise?”

Mother didn’t know if Edgar was just trying to gaslight her, or if traumatizing a child was such an insignificant part of his life that he had simply forgotten.

“Oh, suddenly you don’t remember threatening to put me, away!?” His voice is filled with nothing but boredom, “I never…”

Putting her hand up to silence Edgar, Mother was falling apart as tears fell from her cheeks and onto his office floor.

“Just stop, you would show me videos of some kid locked up and told me that if I ever misbehaved that’s where I’d end up, do you know how much that fucked with me!?”

Voice growing horse from shouting, breathing in and out she tries to calm down why did he still have so much power over her.

Looking at the ground Mother begins massaging her temples as she lets out one deep and weary sigh.

She looks back up at Edgar who was now giving her an unimpressed blank look, that said that she was taking up more time of his than she was worth.

Mother tries to keep her voice steady and professional, “I don't want to argue anymore, I’ll do what I was tasked to do.”

“My work ethic is good, and my drive to complete a job with nothing less than perfection is something you've ingrained in me.”

Breathing finally under control she hardens her features, “The company won't suffer just let me do my job.”

Deciding to finally walk away on her own she hears Edgar stand up from his chair, “Mary without powers you could have been great.”

Even now he wanted to hurt her with his backhanded comments, she gives a sad and soft laugh, “Without my powers, you would have been able to admit it.”

Leaving Edgar standing there, she silently walks from his office to the elevator never glancing back at him.

Riding to floor 99 Mother walks down the corridor until she’s greeted by Maeve, who looks to be on her way back to her own apartment.

Maeve gives Mother a knowing smile, “You look rough.” For a moment Mother feels small, “Edgar…”

Nodding Maeve seemed to completely understand, “Ah, the photos?” Mother’s childlike tone of voice gives a glimpse to her shame, “Among other things…”

Crossing her arms in front of her Maeve leans back, “You cool?” Mother shakes her head trying to fight off all the bad feelings Edgar had seen fit to lay upon her shoulders.

“Honestly? I just regret that I didn't stock my liquor cabinet up before dragging my ass back here.”

Opening the door beside her Maeve gestures to the inside of her apartment, “What are you into?”

Happy to be given a respite after her horrible meeting with Edgar Mother throws her a wink, and in a flirtatious sway slowly makes her way into Maeve’s apartment. “Anything and everything…”

Mother waste no time getting comfortable, sinking herself into the first couch she sees as Maeve hands her a bottle.

Watching as Mother tips it all the way back before grimacing and wiping her lips, “Fucking Everclear, what are you a college freshman? I hope you don't mind me doing a little bitching.”

Maeve laughs into her tumbler, “Why, do you plan on getting wasted?” Mother smiles pinching her fingers together without letting them touch, “A little yeah.”

Mother’s halfway done with the bottle when her voice begins to slur and her vision wavers, rubbing her eyes she accidentally drops the bottle on the floor.

Pouting she sets it back up before too much of it gets out, “Fuckin’ everclear, I'm not supposed to tell but who the fuck cares it's not like he was a good father.”

“I'm not sure if he even is my father, at least not my birth one, he's just some guy that paid for my schooling.”

Stopping mid sip Maeve moves her drink from her lips, “Who Edgar?” Looking over at Maeve, Mother can see her shocked face while nursing the same drink she had started with.

Mother places a finger to her lips in a shushing motion, “Don't tell anyone though, I'm not supposed to say anything.”

Placing her drink down Maeve seems to be pondering something. “Your secret's safe with me.”

Maeve's emotions told a different story, making Mother giggle, “You're lyyying, but it's okay I'm used to being used, also used to being lied to.”

Mother says the last part softly but can instantly feel regret and sadness flowing around Maeve.

“Oh, pretty lady don't feel bad, I'm sure you have your reasons, and I’m sure it has to do with why you’ve only taken two sips of your drink since I got here.”

Stretching her body over the couch it was time for Mother to give Maeve a knowing look, “I’ll give you a warning before you do somethin’ drastic. Don’t. Just let Mommy handle it.”

Before Maeve can make up a lie, Mother’s phone vibrates. ‘Beep bop boop.’ Knowing exactly who it is before she looks at the caller id Mother groans, “Ugh One second, I have to take this.

“Hello… I'm getting drunk right now… no not with Homelander, I'm not stupid…” Mother looks over at Maeve and smiles, “A hot brunet…”

Sighing Mother looks away, “You don't have to call me every time I piss Edgar off; I'm not going to go nuclear just because he makes me cry…”

“I'm drunk too drunk to listen to you pretend to care about me.” Trying and failing to grab the bottle off the ground she gives up with a frustrated huff.

“Listen just let Edgar know I'm not fucking Homelander, yet, I'm not thinking of staging a hostile takeover, and I'm not suicidal.”

“Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to drink until I can't remember my childhood.” Hanging up her phone she ignores Vic's pleas for her to drink water.

Sitting up Mother places her head in her hands, “Ugh fuck me.” Maeve watches Mother successfully grab the bottle from the ground and tips it back growing slightly worried the longer she drinks.

“Family troubles?” Throwing the now empty bottle to the ground, Mother lets it shatter before her, “They’re not my family! I don’t know why it took me so long to figure it out…”

“I don't know why I even bother; Noir has been the only one in my life I could call family, I should have made an effort to stay in touch after Edgar sent me away…”

Mother sits in silence before standing up leaving her phone on the couch, she wobbles over to a now concerned Maeve who was on the cusp of grabbing the other woman before she fell.

Before she can stand up Mother lays on top of her, legs spread saddled on Maeve lap Mother presses her breast against her.

Twirling Maeve's soft locs of hair between her fingers she looks her in the eyes, “You know you really are beautiful, and yes they’re real.”

Grabbing Mother's hand, Maeve rolls her eyes and smiles. “Thanks for the compliment, and I can’t lie, I was curious.”

Maeve looks down at Mother's cleavage then back into her eyes, “But it looks like you’ve had enough.”

Watching her seductive face suddenly turn into a playful pout Maeve had to admit that Mother was cute like this, even with the glass scattered across her floor.

“I’m serious, tall brunettes are one of the seven wonders of the world.” Moving closer Mother places her head against Maeves making Maeve let out a dry laugh.

Questioning Mother’s motives, this was her first time seeing Mother so needy. “I'm an auburn, now what are you up to?”

Lips almost touching but not quite, Mother caresses the side of Maeve’s cheek, making a tingle go through Maeve's body.

Body going still and breath hitching, Maeve realizes Mother is healing her. Mother’s eyes seem glossy, “Can I sleep here tonight?”

Maeve never gets to answer her as Mother's body droops forward, passing out on top of her. Smiling Maeve takes her to bed.

The morning sun floods Maeve’s room, as the sound of curtains are heard being pulled back.

Maeve makes a spectacle of waking Mother up, “Rise and shine princess.” Mother tries to cover her face, but she’s too late as the sun hits her eyes, momentarily blinding her.

Tears prickle her eyes, “Fuck!” Maeve pulls the covers from Mother’s body, “Here.” She hands her a bottle of water.

Maeve looks down at Mother fondly, enjoying the repercussions of Mother’s actions like she’s remembering a bygone memory.

“Thank you.” Mother begins to sip at the water while feeling her healing kick into overdrive, trying to kill the headache forming.

“Um, I didn’t say anything weird last night did I?” Smiling Maeve helps Mother out of her bed, “Would you feel better if I said no?”

Nodding, Mother doesn’t ask any more questions as she watches Maeve stretch, “Thank you for healing me.”

Walking towards the entrance Mother grabs her phone on the way out, looking down at the time she lets out a curse.

Still in her suit, and without pockets she tucks her phone under her breast, before flashing Maeve a smile, “That’s what I’m here for.”

Maeve squints her eyelids with that same knowing look as before, she smirks, “Is it?” Mother smiles and wonders what she had let slip while drowning in her frustrations.

Leaning in, Mother whispers near Maeves ear, “Just between you, Edgar and I, not really, but who cares.”

Stepping back Mother waves goodbye to Maeve who copies her movement, “Have a good morning… I mean afternoon!”

Walking slowly back Mother feels a cloud of frustration coming from the direction of her apartment.

Finding Homelander dressed in his civies in front of her door, with a sour expression that screamed, ‘Welcome home cheater’.

Shocked and a bit confused Mother treads lightly, “John what are you doin-” Not waiting for her to finish her question he immediately digs into her, “Where were you?”

Ignoring his newfound possessiveness, Mother skips to her next question while ushering him into her apartment, “How long have you been standing here?”

His voice still full of accusation, he follows Mary through her apartment, and into her bedroom, “Long enough to know that you didn't come home last night.”

Sighing she begins to remove the hair accessories from her locs, “Maeve was kind enough to put up with me.”

He lets out a bitter huff as if Maeve’s name alone was enough to paint a vivid picture, “Maeve huh? that would explain the smell, I didn’t know that she was your type.”

Removing the gold chains across her body she doesn’t deny her attraction to Maeve, nor does she stop undressing, “She is, but that’s not why I was there.”

Homelander gawks as he watches her unzip her suit, throwing it on the bedroom floor, taken completely off guard he tries to remember his anger. “What are you-”

Grabbing her robe and towels she makes her way to her bathroom, stopping at the door she turns to look at Homelander, “I need to wash the scent of booze off of my body, don’t snoop through my things and if you steal any of my panties replace them with new ones.”

Looking slightly taken back he places a hand over his chest, “Why would I steal-” Mary puts a hand up waving it in a dismissive matter, “I don't know I don't care, just replace them if you do.

Still a little surprised at Mary undressing in front of him, without any inhibition to speak of, it takes Homelander a second to collect his thoughts.

Even though he had seen her naked plenty of times before, without her knowing of course, it felt different to see her walking around so casually in front of him.

His thoughts were at war with each other, either she felt so comfortable around him that she didn’t feel the need to cover up, or she didn’t see him as a man. ‘Like some no dick puppet,’ shaking the thought away he hopes it’s the former.

Homelander had never been in her room before, he had looked around a bit while she was sleeping, or on very good days stuffing herself full of imitation dick, but that had always been from a distance.

He glances over at Mary’s bedside table, the one he knew held her star-spangled banger, and back in the direction of her shower. ‘Would she have taken it in the shower with her if he wasn’t there?’

He quickly turns his head towards her closet, trying to get the thought of her spread around silicone out of his mind. Strolling over he decides to take a little peak at what was inside.

The first thing he notices is her wardrobe, packed with civilian clothing vastly different than her supe suit, he had felt like he had walked into a 1950s clothing catalog.

Everything placed neatly in their respectable categories, not a single clothing piece out of place, that’s what makes it so easy to find a little basket filled to the brim with silk.

Murmuring under his breath Homelander justifies his actions to no one but himself, “She said it was fine as long as I replaced them.”

Grabbing a red pair he brings them to his nose, even though they’d been cleaned there was still the faint smell of Mother for Homelander to enjoy.

No matter how much they washed, bleached, burned a smell away he would always be able to smell what was once there.

Making his way to her bed he sits down slowly, relaxing his shoulders he unbuckles his belt, sliding his jeans and underwear down until his dick sits flushed against his stomach.

Taking one last deep inhale of her panties, he enjoys the sweet vanilla bean undertones stitched into the silky fibers, before wrapping the cloth around his shaft.

Moaning from the soft caress of her panties he begins picking up the pace, enjoying the sensation of it moving up and down against him.

Until his eyes land on the vanity mirror in the corner of her room, and for a moment he feels ashamed. “What are you doing? Is this really enough for you? She’s right there, a berry ripe for the picking.”

John knew that ‘The Homelander’ could be volatile in so many ways, but at the same time he had protected John when he needed it the most.

So John would often give into Homelander’s more dangerous desires, it was the least he could do for him, but….“She’s not ready…”

Homelander slowly strokes his hand down his shaft squeezing at the base. “Fuck, oh I could make her ready, make her see how good we can be for her if you just sit back and let me take the reins, just like with…. you know… we could bring her so much pleasure.”

John had let Homelander do what he pleased before, but this was different, he couldn’t, not this time, “We’re friends.”

Still stroking he could feel the pre-cum dripping onto the silk clutched between his palm and cock. “We could be fuck friends, buddies, whatever the fuck they’re calling it nowadays”

Slowly shaking his head, if he let Homelander have his way… “She trusts us.” Barely thrusting into his hand, Homelander slows down delaying his orgasm, as if he was saving his hard on for something else.

“Yeah enough to stupidly let her guard down, and while we’re thrusting into our fist we could be thrusting into her.”

John was at the end of his rope he could feel Homelander getting frustrated by his resistance, but still he wanted to reason with him, “What if she told someone.”

The thought seemed to only make Homelander more excited, “I’d make sure she didn’t.”

Thinking about the supe taking up space in their apartment John tries to appeal to Homelander’s righteous side. “What about Stormfront?”

Letting out a bitter laugh Homelander isn’t impressed, “Is that supposed to be some kind of fucking joke? You haven’t even checked up on her in weeks, no use bringing her up now, besides she would understand more than anyone, you’re a man, you have needs.”

John couldn’t let Homelander ruin this for him, no matter how much he hated to fight with him. “No.”

Rubbing the tip of his dick Homelander contemplates his next words, John was being an unreasonable romantic, he just needed to see the bigger picture. “If you want we can wine and dine her later, but for right now-”

John knew what would happen if Homelander got his way and he couldn’t risk it, he didn’t want her to be afraid of him. “I said no.”

Letting out a frustrated snarl he grips his dick almost to the point of pain. “Fine! we’ll do it your way… but there’s no reason we can’t take a peek, this is tame compared to what we’ve seen before, right?”

John relents, if compromising meant that he could get Homelander to back off for now than he would do it, truth was that he had wanted to do it anyway.

Fixing his sights towards where her shower laid he catches her just as she’s washing over her folds.

With a satisfied look on his face, Homelander looks vindicated. “Well would you look at that Johnny boy, the carpet matches the drapes, never noticed that before did you?”

John lets out a shaky breath as Mary’s hands rub over her breast, pumping faster he loosens his grip feeling the silky material softly work against his skin as he’s nearing his release.

He screws his eyes shut while gripping her bed sheets, trying and failing to not rip them as he empties himself into her panties.

Breathing hard he feels as if his head is floating away from his body, almost missing the sounds of her leaving the shower.

His mind slides back into focus, quickly rolling his underwear then pants back up and buckling his belt, he panics as she’s getting closer to the door.

Silk underwear still lay in his hand, not spotting any clothes hamper in sight and having no were else to put them he throws her panties back where he found them.

Sitting down just as she walks out the bathroom wrapped in her robe with her hair tied up, she smiles at Homelander sitting on her bed patiently waiting for her arrival.

At least that's how he would look if Mary couldn’t see the nervous emotion wrapping itself around his body. “Did you miss me?” Her voice is playful but he doesn’t say anything, and instead gives her a nervous smile.

She had a pretty good idea what he was up to and if his open fly and flushed cheeks were any indication, he must have just finished.

Homelander watches as she calmly walks over to him, kneeling down between his thighs, she makes his heart skip a beat.

“I know that you’re probably not used to being in your civilian clothes, but you have to be careful not to be seen with your zipper down.”

Placing her fingers on the metal pull, she stares deep into his eyes, “Depending where you are someone might get the wrong idea.”

She was talking to him so condescendingly, but all he could bring himself to do was nod.

Still a little hard he lifts his hips to give her better access without bumping into anything, he needn't bother, she gently tucks him back in, while hearing him whimper as her fingers softly press down on his hardening cock.

Standing up she steps back. “Do you have your phone on you?” Placing his hand over the pocket where it was held he pulls it out and holds it to his chest, “Why?”

Holding out her hand she quickly grows impatient, “Give it to me.” Huffing he sounds annoyed by her pushy nature, but deep down it excited him how familiar she behaved around him, like she had known him for years.

John hands it to her still unsure of what she’s going to do. Looking down at it she seems surprised, “Oooh you actually have a smartphone.”

Lightly furrowing his brows he scoffs, “And that’s surprising?” Taking her hair down she shakes her locs out parting them to the side, “You look like the type to still use flip phones.”

Loosening her robe, she lets it slide to her shoulder before using Homelander’s phone to take a picture, typing something, then handing it back to him, “Here when you need to get a hold of me just call, I’ll answer when I can.”

Taking a glance at his phone, he sees that his background of the American flag had been replaced with Mary’s sexy but tasteful photo.

Debating whether or not to change it back, he decides to leave it for now, placing it back in his jacket pocket.

Grabbing a bottle of lotion from her nightstand, Mary sits beside Homelander filling her hand with a few generous pumps.

She rubs her hands together and begins to rub her body down, fully aware of John’s eyes mesmerize by her motions.

“Remember when I told you I was sent away?” His eyes making their way back up her body John slowly nods his head.

“It was Edgar who ordered my re-education.” She said the last part slowly as if the whole situation still confused her, caused her pain.

“It had been soon after the first ‘incident’.” Her face grimaces recalling how the boys head had toppled from his neck as they finished kissing.

Looking away then back at Homelander, Mary tries her best to school her features, “As a child, when I first really began to comprehend the magnitude of my abilities, Edgar would force me to watch videos, of a young boy with a blue blank-”

Not ready, or maybe just unable to hear the rest of her sentence, Homelander interrupts her before she can finish. “I have something for you.”

Surprised from his interruption she takes a glance at the emotions swirling around him. ‘Nervousness, discomfort, shame.’ He was going haywire, she thought opening up to him would make him do the same.

‘What had made him react this way, was it something she said?’ Pulling out a ring box he opens it in front of her. looking down at a flag shaped ring that tiptoed the line of gaudiness she tries to smile.

If his emotions hadn’t confused her, surprising her with a ring had, unsure of what he was trying to imply, she had to be careful with her next words.

“What is this?” He gives her a coy smile while grabbing her hand and placing the ring on her pinkie finger. “Just a little thank you.”

Coughing out a relieved laugh she sounded almost hysterical, “John, I really love it, first the flowers now this ring, not to mention I never repaid you for helping me out with my suit.”

He was glowing at her appreciation, until she continued with a tone of hesitancy. “You’re going to make me feel bad for what I’m going to say… well the thing is…”

Smile growing tight he was dreading the words that would fall from her lips, every little doubt he had about himself was screaming in his ears.

Telling him how they would deal with her when she rejected him, it was almost hard to focus. “What?”

She shyly looks away as if she’s embarrassed, “I was going to ask you for another favor, but now I feel like I’m asking for too much, as if I’m using you.”

The relief he feels from her confession is indescribable, John wasn’t sure what Homelander would do if he couldn’t control himself, and he wanted nothing more than to be useful.

“Nonsense what are friends for, now tell me, what can your old pal Homelander do for you.” Smile slowly wavering she corrected him, “John.”

Confused he answers her, “What?” Her eyes dart away from him this time she was actually nervous, “I prefer talking to John.”

He tries to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling growing in his chest, “Pff, whatever same diff.”

Mary is looking at him now, her eyes grow soft, “Not really though, just like in here out of suit I’m not Mother, you’re not Homelander.”

She could feel how much he wanted to lash out at her, it was all there, sizzling like the wick of a lit bomb ready to go off, and at the same time there were emotions trying to defuse what was there.

Laying her soft hands on his, she squeezes his hand trying to ground him. “Right here right now, can we just be John and Mary?”

Licking his lips, they had suddenly felt dry, he stares blankly at her before nodding. A smile begins to appear on her lips, “Is that a yes?”

The sirens in his head were going off, but the soft touch of her fingers guided him, John, forward. “Yes.”

Mary watches the part of John that had wanted to blow up at her slowly fizzle out. “Great, now back to that favor, I have a lingerie shoot coming up next month, and I need your guidance.”

Smiling, a part of John had hated the way she had spurned Homelander, Homelander wanted to punish her a little for being rude, but she needed John, and he was happy to be needed.

He wasn’t sliding into her, but neither were they, that’s what Homelander tries to tell himself as Mother takes another pose, body shimmering as the light hits her.

As the weeks had past John and Mary had gotten a little closer, true to her word she would answer his calls when she wasn’t swapped with whatever the fuck Vought had her doing.

Homelander knew she’d never purposely ignore his calls, she had shown herself to be trustworthy.

Once when his call went to voicemail, she had quickly texted where and what she was doing, it had been some boring PR P.C bullshit classes narrated by Ashley.

Curious and with nothing better to do, he had ‘checked’ up on her and found her doing just what she said she was, he watched her from a distance texting her back and forth.

Reveling in the smiles that would grace her lips whenever her phone buzzed, it made him giddy with excitement, and in truth was a little addicting.

Mary had asked him to guide her through her shoot, but honestly Homelander was feeling a bit out of place, he was just standing there watching, listening as those around made lewd and disparaging remarks.

In Homelander’s honest opinion Mother was being kind and way too accommodating. ‘Yeah, she’s fat but in a hot way…With just a bit of lipo…Why is he here?…I wonder if she’d let me fu-’ Homelander was close to burning the whole building down with every disgusting freak in here.

Done with a round of shots, Homelander notices one of the worthless go getters that every business seemed to have standing around approach Mother, slowly unzipping her suit.

Before Homelander can question them, one of those so called go getters walk up to him, contaminating his air with whatever they had recently decided to stuff their gullet with, and a fake smile.

“Homelander Sir, we’re going to be doing a few risqué shots soon, so we’re going have to ask you to leave, and then comeback after we’re done.”

Homelander can see the photographer behind who was now going to call Gogetter, glancing over every few seconds, most likely being the one who gave the order, too chicken shit to walk up to Homelander himself.

Looking down at the little sacrificial lamb that was put in front of him, he gives them a tight smile. “Is that what Mother wants?”

Voice filled with uncertainty, they didn’t want to lie, but they had been given an order, “She didn’t exactly express those sentiments but-”

Trying to keep his calm, Homelander leans in a bit with that same tight smile printed on his face, “So, what’s the problem?”

Letting out a frustrated sigh, little Gogetter looks like they would rather be anywhere else than speaking with the particular Supe in front of them. Squaring their shoulders they do their best to keep the tremble in their voice to a minimum.

“Mr. Homelander look, I’m a fan and I don’t mean to be rude, but don’t you have enough on your plate with the Nazi girlfriend thing? The last thing you need is a ‘metoo’ moment on your hands, right?”

Homelander’s face hardens, and for a moment he ponders whether or not to rip Gogetter’s face off, but that moment passes and instead he swallows the thick and bitter taste in his throat and begins walking towards the exit.

Before Homelander can get too far a hand lays softly on his shoulder, “John where are you going?” The sound of Mother’s needy voice stops him in his tracks, his eyes a little wet, he turns back around trying not to show how that pathetic fucking worm had affected him.

Intervening before Homelander can explain what had transpired, Gogetter tries to alleviate the concerned look on Mother’s face. “Mr. Homelander here has decided to give you some privacy while we take your more risqué pictures.”

With a confused look on her face, she doesn’t even glance towards Gogetter. “John is that true?” Homelander’s smile widens as he grits his teeth, too embarrassed to repeat what Gogetter had said.

He didn’t want to remind Mother that he was being treated like a pariah, because even though she knew, she never brought it up, but what if it became too much for her?

John didn’t know what Homelander would do to her if she decided to ignore him like the other members of the Seven. “Well, we don’t want you to feel uncomfortable now do we?”

Brows furrowed, Mother looks at him as if he had lost his mind, placing her fingers on her bottom lip she startles Homelander by breaking out in laughter.

Smiling, he’s unsure what part of this situation is funny enough to bring tears to her eyes, but he lets her finish. “John what the fuck are you talking about, you’ve seen me naked already?”

Gogetter’s eyes widen from Mother’s candor, Homelander can’t blame them for being shocked, even he found the things Mother would say when they were out and about a little bit much sometimes.

But he enjoyed the looks that those around them would throw her way, those looks were almost as enjoyable as the looks she would give him when he would needle her.

“You’ve probably seen parts of me that I’ve never seen myself…” Mother’s voice grows quiet as she suddenly realizes that it might not be her comfort he was trying to cater to. “But uh, if you want to leave because you feel uncomfortable, I won't make you stay.”

Placing her arms around one of his, she gives him a little squeeze, her breast pressing against Homelander he almost lets out a deep moan but quickly catches himself. “But I really would like you here with me.”

Looking down at her pouting lips Homelander doesn’t know how much more of this he can take, it’s been months since he’s done anything with anyone.

Mother’s touch was starting to drive him wild, maybe John should have let Homelander- “Of course I’d do anything to you.” Shaking his head he tries to fix his wording, “I mean-”

Listening to her giggle Homelander let’s Mother pull him by the hand. “Come here Johnny.” Placing Homelander right beside the photographer, she waves at him while getting into place.

Displeased that Homelander was still standing around the studio, the photographer motions a ‘WTF’ to the person Homelander had deemed Gogetter.

Trying to look busy Gogetter hands Mother a white cloth, taking off the robe they had given her for decency's sake, as soon as the cloth touches her skin, she yanks it off, looking at it with pure disgust she quickly puts her robe back on. “What is this?”

Looking over at the cloth, Gogetter tries to place it back on her to no avail, “Oh, it’s just a plain cloth, it adds to the sex factor, leaves something to the imagination.”

Pushing the cloth away, Mother eyes it as if it was out to get her, “I see, it’s kind of itchy…”

Frustrated not just from Mother being difficult, but also from the fact that they were told to escort Homelander out, but the fucker still stood there and was probably going to be the reason they were going to be filing for unemployment soon, Gogetter’s voice becomes snippy.

“I’m sorry I can try to find you something softer, but if you could just deal with it for a few shots, it would really help move things along.”

Grabbing the supposed cloth, that felt more like canvas material than anything from Gogetter, Mother inspects it before throwing it as far as she can. “Hmmmm, no.”

Looking at the discarded fabric and the last of their sanity, they were close to doing something stupid, “What do you mean no?”

Mother squints at Gogetter, watching their frustration reach new levels, “I have a better Idea.” She turns her head towards Homelander. “John.”

With a Hollywood smile plastered on his face, Homelander floats over to Mother, happy to get away from the photographer that was sweating with anxiety. “What can I help you with?”

Still on the floor, she reaches out grabbing the end of Homelander’s cape, and with the sweetest, softest voice she has, she asks him, “Can I borrow this?”

Without thinking Homelander starts to remove his cape, but pauses, letting out an uncomfortable chuckle, “Wait, don’t you think this could be seen as a little… I don’t know, treasonous?”

Gently running her fingers over the red, white, and blue fabric, she looks up at him in a way that makes his dick twitch. “I’m a hot bitch that’s going to have the American flag practically falling off my tits, what’s more patriotic than that?”

Nodding but still uncertain, he hands his cape over to her waiting arms. “Thank you Johnny.” Mother blows him a kiss, watching his face become flustered.

Her robe falls off her body as Mother poses patiently, letting Gogetter strategically place a few too many double stick pieces of tape on her body.

Looking over at Homelander, whose been observing her the whole time, she smiles. “John what do you think?”

Mother watches as embarrassment and uncertainty flow around Homelander, his shyness overtaking all other emotions.

A strong blush appears on his cheeks as he looks at her then looks away. “You look fine… good, beautiful.” The childlike and innocent way that he complimented her makes mother giggle, she was definitely talking to John.

John was who she needed Homelander to be in the long run, but right now she needed a sharper tongue, someone with a little blood on their hands, “Homelander…Do I look fuckable?”

Homelander’s eye twitches and suddenly Mother is greeted with an onslaught of emotions, he looks down at her with a sneer and an air of superiority.

She knows in an instant who she’s speaking with. Slightly tilting his head to the side, he lets his eyes rake over her body, no longer ashamed of where his eyes linger. “You don’t look as slutty as you usually do, it wouldn’t hurt to show more skin.”

Eyes locked on his she plays innocent, running her hands down her body, “Where? Show me.”

Before Homelander can place his hands on her, Gogetter lets out a cough, signaling that they were still there.

Mother scowls at them, biting out a command, “Go get yourself something to drink.”

Eyes glossy Gogetter smiles, “Right away ma’am.” They bump into the photographer on their way out the doors, leaving the man holding the camera confused.

Giving Mother a sly smirk, Homelander slowly slides off his gloves as he bends down, laying them beside her.

Moving his cape lower on her body and between her legs, he uses his heat vision to carefully remove the double stick tape that was placed recklessly on her soft skin.

Feeling the gentle caress of Homelander’s heat on her body, Mother let’s out a soft sigh.

Smelling the wild honey between her folds, he wonders how far he could get between her thighs before anyone noticed, or better yet before she stopped him.

Homelander couldn’t figure her out, most times when it was just her and John in her apartment alone, she was demure, chaste.

Then times like this would occur, and she would become soft, needy, practically begging him to take care of her.

Maybe John had been wrong, it was true that Mary seemed to enjoy John’s friendship, never asking for more than a hug.

Was she waiting for Homelander to make a move? If Homelander slipped a finger in right now, he could put his little theory to the test.

It’d be worth it, no matter the outcome he would be fucking her on top of Vought towers soon.

Before Homelander can move his fingers, Mother leans forward and whispers in his ear, “After this, would you like to show me that big art collection you once bragged about?” She watches as his face goes blank.

“I-Um…” The aggressive emotions that had been radiating from all around Homelander come to an abrupt stop, he looks away flustered and unsure of how to answer her.

Mother hadn’t really planned to sleep with Homelander, not yet, what she had been doing was throwing out feelers.

It was funny the amount of information she could get from him with a little flirting.

Feigning sadness with a bit of jealousy, she pulls away from him, immediately seeing how her change in mood affects him.

By the looks of it, the Nazi would be out of the picture sooner than she had hoped.

John had again found himself lounging on Mary’s couch as she busied herself with mundane housework.

He’d never understand what joy she could possibly get from meal prepping, or getting up an hour before the sun appeared just so she could water her little makeshift garden.

(That, in his opinion, took up too much space on her balcony.)

Just so the water wouldn’t burn the leaves in the evening, or mold the dirt throughout the night.

John had once asked why she didn’t just get someone to do it for her, but Mary had just shrugged and said that the mundane kept her hubris in check, whatever that meant.

Taking a sip from a tall glass of milk, Mary had once found him drinking from her milk carton. John had steadily grown flustered from being caught and had tried to make excuses.

Mary had seemed more intrigued than angry, even going as far to ask what his favorite brand and type were.

Now every time he stopped by, she made sure to pour him a cup as soon as he walked through the door.

Taking another sip, John glances over at Mary whose wiping down her kitchen counters. “Who’s your favorite superhero?”

Looking up at an obviously understimulated John, Mary smiles while cleaning off her towel, and hanging it up to dry.

Mary makes her way over to where he’s relaxing, sitting close enough that their knees brush. “Is this a trick question?”

Mother knows the answer, but she loved to watch Johnny lie to her, he always ended up revealing more than he could ever hope to hide.

Smiling he rolls his eyes, “No, if course not.” Shrugging Mother sits back, uninterested in answering his seemingly ‘innocent’ question, “Then it doesn’t matter.”

John tries to keep his voice calm and relaxed, but he could feel his irritation begin to grow, “Yes it does.”

Tilting her head towards him, the smirk on her lips widens as she lets out a light chuckle, “So it is a trick question.”

Leg beginning to bounce, John was confused as to why she was being so difficult about a simple question. “Yes, no, just answer!”

Putting her hands up in mock surrender, Mother leans backwards a bit, with playfulness laced in her words, “Okay…okay, what if I said Black Noir?”

John sighs and rolls his eyes, as if he expected that to be her answer, “He was always a fan favorite, after me of course.” he quickly adds.

Nodding in agreement, she lifts a brow, “What about A-Train?” Homelander’s head cocks to the side, he didn’t have a problem with A-train per se, A-Train was family after all.

Homelander just hadn’t particularly liked Mary and A-train together, not after he had caught A-train in her apartment.

Really, it was in their best interest to not be seen together, Homelander knew exactly how quickly celebrity gossip spread.

What everyone would think, and how Vought would want to play into it, Homelander couldn’t let that happen, for their sake.

“What are you, a hyperactive seven-year-old?” Mother softly giggles, while observing Homelander’s aura being consumed with a possessive jealousy.

“The Deep?” Homelander doesn’t even humor the thought, but her answer does kick him out of his possessive mood.

Folding his arms, ‘The Deep was no one's favorite’, Homelander throws Mary a condescending smirk, “How cute, try again.”

Slowly leaning forward, Mother places a hand on Homelander’s thigh, gently giving it a squeeze, she answers him slow and sensually, “The Homelander?”

‘YAHTZEE!’ “I wouldn’t say that’s the correct answer…” Suddenly Mary removes her hand and leans back smirking at a gratified Homelander.

“So, this is a trick question.” Done playing her little games Homelander gives her one more chance to answer him.

“Just answer me honestly. Now.” Homelander smiles at the end of his ‘request’, but it was tight, filled with a certain hostility that could only be picked up by people with shitty childhoods.

Honesty? That wasn’t something Mother would ever willingly give Homelander.

In faux contemplation, Mother rolls her tongue over her lips, before softly biting the bottom of her lip, pretending to put thought into her answer. “Perhaps Crimson Countess.”

Following the dance of her tongue Homelander nods, “More believable than the deep, but still why?”

‘He can never seem to ask the right questions.’ Mother thinks as she crosses one of her legs over the other, “Sexy and bold.”

Those were just words to Mother, what she had said hadn’t really answered any of his questions.

Homelander doesn't seem to notice, and instead throws out a little tidbit he had heard about The Countess in passing. “Isn’t she a cam girl now?”

Mother shrugs his words off in indifference, “So what? There’s no shame in that, and she has to pay the bills somehow?”

Homelander scoffs at Mother’s liberal attitude towards petty prostitution.

When Mother had first been introduced to The Seven, she had been dressed a bit… indecent.

Homelander had his own theory as to why, and her nonchalant attitude only solidified his suspicions.

“It’s not like she’s a special case, many supes that work for Vought are given the short end of the stick.”

Mary thinks of August, who had ended up at a dingy mall trying to sell signatures, before Mother had scooped him up.

“The only way to survive life after Vought, is to either budget and save every dime you get, or get reallll comfortable with living without.”

Suddenly realizing she may have revealed too much about herself, Mary cautiously finishes her thoughts.

“When I’m finally let go, I plan on buying a new build, where I can plant a proper garden to grow my own produce.”

Looking out the window at the plants practically falling off her railing, Mary let’s out a bothered sigh.

“Not just on some balcony… maybe I'll even plant some trees for shade, I’ve always been partial to willow.”

With the way Homelander was smirking at Mary, she had a feeling he would remember her words, whether or not he’d use it to hurt her, she could not know.

They sit in silence for a moment, while Mother goes over how the slip of Mary’s tongue might affect her future.

She had to be careful about growing attached to whatever familiarity she was creating with John, Homelander. But she was only human.

“Kids?” Not Immediately comprehending his question, she looks up at him a bit confused, "Huh?”

Homelander gestures his hands around, “Where do kids fall within your little, retirement utopia.”

Smiling Mother would never tell Homelander the truth, but Mary would just have to hope he didn’t hurt her too badly. “A baker's dozen or more.”

Eyes lighting up with excitement he begins to laugh at Mary’s answer, making her smile waver. “Wow, or more? What are you trying to do, reenact little house on the prairie?”

Mother fights off the sneer forming on her lips, “Maybe, maybe I just like cream pies, what about you?” Mother says sharply watching as John grows confused, “What about me?”

“What are you going to do when you retire?” John looks uncomfortable from Mother’s question, not taking time to think about his answer. “I’ve never really thought about it.”

Mother could see that wasn’t completely true, there was a small cotton ball worth of yearning nestled around him, that had to amount to something.

But Mother couldn’t read people's minds, all she could do was infer. “At your age you should.”

Homelander’s mouth twitches, displeased with Mother’s implication, but before he can reply she continues speaking.

“Maybe you could live on a beach, sail the ocean, or if sitting on your ass all day is too mind numbingly boring, maybe you could start a business managing adult Supes.”

In a patronizing voice, mother looks askance at him. “I doubt you can comprehend how much you've helped me out.”

Not giving Homelander a fraction of a second to analyze her backhanded compliment, Mother continues to bombard him with questions. “How do you feel about kids? Ever thought of-

“I have a son.”

Mother watches as a collage of emotions whip around Homelander, then almost instantly neutralize themselves.

Mary had never witnessed anything like that occur while talking with John before, treading lightly she drops the attitude, and instead adopts a more caring tone. “Really…? I've never seen him around, What’s his name?”

“His name is Ryan… I’m not really sure where he is right now.” John seemed to be in a trance, made from a wall of grief.

John’s short replies began to unnerve Mary. “Well… I’d love to meet him, if his mother is okay with it.”

“She’s dead.”

Mary tries her best not to lean away from John, she didn't need for him to know how his current behavior unsettled her. “Okay?…I see, well I’m sure it was an accide-”

“It was- It was an accident; Ryan was trying to protect her from…” As he goes quiet, John resembles a child, innocent and confused.

“Who?” Mary could have easily guessed who it was, but she needed him to say it out loud.

“Stormfront.”

Gently placing a hand on John’s knee, Mary sighs deeply, “I think I understand now, I know you don’t like bringing her up, but can I say something?”

John doesn't try to argue, but instead nods, letting Mary speak.

“I'm only saying this as your friend, but she doesn't seem like a good life partner.” John turns his head away from Mary, as if he was trying to hide from her words.

“Getting outed as a Nazi, then leaving you to bear the brunt of humiliation, and public ridicule, while doing nothing to cushion your fall from grace…”

“It also sounds like she’s the reason you haven’t seen your son, Johnny baby use your head, next you’ll tell me she’s tried to run her Nazi spiel on you, that’s not love.”

John gives her those pathetic puppy dog eyes, and Mother has to be honest for a second, she kind of wants to throw up.

Playing with his fingers he still hasn’t looked Mary in the eyes. “She just needs someone to vent to; we are both all we have left.”

Moving closer Mary lays her head on John’s shoulder. “That’s not true you have me, and your son Ryan.

I'm sure if you could find a way to reach out, try to find him, you’d find that he needs you too.”

Looking up she can see a shimmer of wetness threatening to fall from John's eyes, he was shrouded in hopelessness.

Making her way up his body she sits saddled on his lap, snaking her arms around his neck, “Oh big boy, it’ll all be okay.”

Mary lays his head on her breast, giving him a squeeze. She lets him squeeze her back, relaxing into her touch as they sit for a while, every few minutes telling Mary little things about his son Ryan.

Beepbeepbeep

Mary jumps at the sound of her cell going off, “Ah, its August, I forgot have an interview today.” Dressing in haste Mother jumps out of her home clothing.

Handing John a remote she smiles, “I’ll be back soon, here if you want you can watch me.”

“Wish me luck.” She doesn’t wait for him to respond, as she lays a kiss on top of his head, making her way to her door entrance and waving goodbye.

Unsure of what to do now that she was gone, John turns on the television and waits.

Mother smiles at the talk show host’s faux sunny demeanor, and newly minted veneers. “Hello! everyone out there, tonight we’re here with the newest member of the seven.”

Looking like a wooden doll they gesture to Mother, “Would you like to introduce yourself to our audience right here and at home?”

Homelander’s eyes are glued to the screen watching Mother like a hawk, he wanted to see the fruit of Ashley’s labor.

Especially since all those PR lessons had been the reason Homelander’s calls had gone to voicemail.

“Hello, I’m Mother also known as Mother Mary, and Mommy to my really close friends.”

Homelander whispers under his breath to no one in particular, “That definitely wasn’t in the script.”

The host already slightly uncomfortable, looks to the cameras than back to Mother, “Wow we didn’t know that you were so flirty.”

Homelander’s lip lifts into a smirk at the same time as Mother’s, he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

Mother coyly bats her eyes while tilting her head, “I like to think I’m more than just flirty, I’m fuc-… actually, I don’t think I can say that while live, can I?”

Smile tight and on the verge of panicking, the host looks like they want to go to commercial, they try to stay calm, giving a hearty chuckle, “Not if you want to sell any dolls.”

Mother follows suit showing off her beautiful row of canines, “Well thank the heavens that I don’t give a fuck about dolls than, though I’d love to partner up with Real doll.”

The host was in full panic mode but with too much baby botox to show it, they try and steam roll pass Mother’s sharp tongue by acting seemingly amused.

“Wow you are very spicy, speaking of spice there have been some photos circulating around the web with you and your co seven member A-Train, is there something you’d like to tell us?”

The smirk on Homelander’s face instantly drops, shaking his head, he knew this would happen.

He should have put more effort in smothering their interactions, now the media was going to make a thing out of nothing.

Homelander looks back up at the screen, to see Mother looking confused, as if she truly can’t comprehend the question, nor the implications. “Like?”

Giggling like a child, instead of a grown adult with a fully formed frontal lobe, the host leans in with a theater whisper, “Is there an office romance of some type going on?”

Mother places her hand on her chest, scandalized. On her pinky finger, Homelander can see the ring he gave her and softly smiles.

“Between me and a train?” Homelander can’t help but laugh at how insulted Mother looked, “Fuc- How many F bombs am I allowed?”

Mother could see how distraught the host was and reveled in it.

Their smile was as bright as when Mother sat down, but the light had long been extinguished. “None, the first one was one too many.”

Running her fingers over her mouth, Mother pretends to be embarrassed, “Ah, okay then… No, he's a nice kid… but no.” She says, slowly shaking her head.

The host gives a shocked scoff, head moving back and forth like a marionette, “Kid? He's older than you!”

Leg bouncing in frustration, Homelander talks to himself once again, “What the fuck is their problem? She said no, move the fuck on.”

For the first time in her interview Mother seemed shy, but Homelander could see that there was something off about her sudden timid behavior.

Mother nervously fidgets with her fingers, “Yeah but… I don’t know maybe in 20-25 years, but at the moment he's just not my type.”

Eyes almost bulging out of their sockets, the host is close to intruding on Mother’s personal space.

Praying that Mother finally understood the assignment, they were in tears desperate for one appropriate answer. “Then what is your type?”

Demure act instantly shed, Mother smiles wickedly at the cameras, as if she had personally willed the host to ask that precise question. “Dads.”

Back from what a hysterical Ashley had called a failed interview, Mother walks by Homelander’s apartment; glancing over just in time to see a medical crew, wheeling a catatonic dark-haired woman out of Homelander’s apartment on a stretcher.

Smiling Mother skips to her apartment humming and softly singing, “You can tell by the way that I use my walk…”

Finding her apartment empty, with her TV still on Mary gets ready for the night.

Expanding her powers, she pauses for a second when she finds that Homelander isn’t in his usual creeping spot.

Matter of fact he wasn’t anywhere at all, laying down for the night she’s a bit worried but still brushes his unscripted behavior to the side.

It’s not until the afternoon arrives that John calls Mary, his tone nervous enough to put her on edge.

“Um, You talked about wanting to meet my son…” Unsure of where this was going she hoped for the best, “Yes…”

John says his next words with a little more confidence, “Can we stop by now?”