Got Milk? | Homelander x Reader

20 | Lingering Heat

Stepping out of the bathroom, you quickly began gathering your clothes, the soft rustle of fabric filling the quiet space. Homelander's presence loomed nearby, his eyes following your every move. As you slipped into your dress, you glanced at him, a hint of shyness in your eyes.

"I think I'll call a taxi," you said, trying to sound confident despite the lingering effects of the evening's intensity.

Homelander's smile turned into a slight frown, his brows knitting together. "Absolutely not," he insisted. "I'll arrange for a chauffeur to take you back home."

You hesitated, not wanting to impose. "I don't want to be a bother. Really, a taxi is fine."

Homelander stepped closer, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "It's either that or I fly you home myself," he said, his tone firm but teasing.

The thought of flying with him, while thrilling, was too nerve-wracking. You managed a nervous laugh. "I've never flown before. I think I'll go with the driver."

A playful smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Chauffeur it is," he agreed, clearly amused by your nervousness.

Moments later, the driver arrived, and Homelander escorted you downstairs to the car. As you reached the vehicle, he opened the door for you, his hand lingering on your lower back. When you got in, he leaned in, his face close to yours, his voice low and intimate. "Thank you for tonight," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "I had an incredible time."

You smiled, your heart fluttering. "Thank you," you replied softly. "Yes, it was... great."

He nodded, his eyes locking onto yours. "Text me when you get home."

"I will," you promised, and before you knew it, his lips were on yours in a gentle, lingering kiss that made your heart skip a beat.

With that, he closed the door gently, watching as the car pulled away. He stood there for a moment, his mind replaying the evening's events. Everything about tonight had left a lasting impression on him. With a final glance at the car, he turned and launched himself into the sky, flying back to his penthouse with a contented smile.

The drive home was quiet, the city's lights blurring past as you leaned back in the seat, your mind racing with the events of the evening. When you finally arrived home, you stepped out of the car, your body still tingling with the memory of Homelander's touch.

Inside your apartment, you kicked off your shoes and sank onto the couch, covering your face with your hands in disbelief. "Did that really happen?" you mentally asking yourself, a smile spreading across your lips. Your first date with Homelander had been more than you could have ever imagined.

You started thinking about the full date, from the movie theater to the penthouse, and couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement mixed with nervous energy.

Your cheeks flushed as you remembered how his eyes had followed every movement, how he had looked at you as if you were the most captivating sight he had ever seen. The memory made you blush and smile, a mix of embarrassment and pride swelling within you.

And then there was his height. The way he had towered over you, his presence so commanding and yet so gentle. The way he had looked down at you with a mixture of desire and care, making you feel both protected and utterly desired. You felt a warmth spread through you at the thought, your body responding to the memory of his closeness.

Lying back on the couch, you let out a deep sigh, feeling a pleasant ache of longing. Your mind replayed every touch, every look, every word exchanged, and you couldn't help but feel both thrilled and overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. The evening had been a whirlwind, and you were left with a profound sense of anticipation for what might come next.

The excitement and heat from the evening lingered, making it difficult to settle. You glanced at your phone, debating whether to text Homelander yet, your heart racing at the thought of continuing the connection you had started to build tonight.

As you sat with your thoughts, your phone buzzed with a message from Homelander, sending a thrill through you. You quickly unlocked your phone to read his message, a simple "Did you make it home safe?" that made your heart flutter with anticipation.

You quickly replied, confirming your safe arrival home, and added, "Thank you again for tonight. I can't stop thinking about it."

His response was immediate, "Me neither. You were amazing tonight." His words made your cheeks flush with warmth, a mix of excitement and nervousness washing over you.

Encouraged by his enthusiasm, you typed out, "I keep replaying every moment... especially the theater." The implication was clear, a silent invitation for the conversation to take a more daring turn.

His reply came swiftly, a playful, "Is that so? Which part was your favorite?" The question hung in the air, inviting you to delve deeper into the night's memories.

You hesitated briefly before responding, "Maybe the part where you made me feel like I was the only one in the world." The confession felt bold, yet liberating.

His reply was swift and teasing, "I was only just getting started." The promise in his words made your heart race and your mind spin with possibilities.

The conversation continued, the messages between you growing increasingly bold. You confessed in a whisper of a text, "I can't stop thinking about your hands and how they made me feel."

Homelander responded with an audacity that made your pulse quicken, "Just my hands? What about my mouth?" The words painted vivid images in your mind, each more intoxicating than the last.

Feeling daring, you typed, "And the way you looked at me, like you wanted to devour me," adding a winking emoji to soften the boldness.

His next text made you shiver with delight, "I still do. And next time, I won't hold back as much."

The thrill of the exchange left you breathless, each message a tantalizing hint of what could be. You felt a heat rising within you, a longing for more that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

Finally, a message appeared, "I wish I could be there with you right now." His honesty was a balm, soothing the nervous energy that had been building inside you all night.

Feeling emboldened, you replied, "What would you do if you were here?"

His answer was immediate and left little to the imagination, "I'd show you exactly what you do to me." The weight of his words settled over you, each one a promise of the passions that simmered between you.

As the conversation reached a crescendo, he sent one last message, "I have to go for now, but I'll be thinking about you tonight. I'll be busy the next few days, but I'll contact you as much as I can."

You read his words with a mix of excitement and longing. "I understand," you typed back, hiding the slight pang of disappointment. "I'll be thinking about you too."

Before ending the conversation, you sent a final message, "Goodnight, Homelander. Thank you for an unforgettable night." His reply was almost instant, carrying a warmth that settled in your chest, "Goodnight, beautiful. I can't wait to see you again." You smiled at the screen, feeling the sincerity in his words. With a gentle sigh, you placed your phone on the nightstand, your heart fluttering at the thought of what lay ahead.

The evening closed with the promise of more to come, leaving you with a feeling of warmth and anticipation that lulled you to sleep.

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