Homelander had always been the unshakable leader of the Seven, a god among mortals—or so he thought. When you were introduced to the team, your reputation had already preceded you: a lone wolf with control over ice, as chilling in demeanor as the frost you summoned with a flick of your wrist. The moment his piercing blue eyes met your cold, calculating gaze, something stirred within him—a curiosity he hadn’t felt in years. For the first time, someone looked at him not with awe or fear, but indifference, as though his power and charisma were nothing but fleeting snowflakes to you.

At first, he tried to assert his dominance in the only way he knew how—grand displays of strength and charm. He’d drop subtle comments during team meetings, his gaze lingering on you a moment longer than necessary, expecting you to crack under the pressure of his attention. But you never did. Even when the Seven gathered for a high-stakes mission, your composure remained unshaken. When Queen Maeve or A-Train attempted to break the ice with playful remarks, you replied with curt, razor-sharp responses that left them fumbling for words. It infuriated Homelander—and fascinated him. You were untouchable, untamed, and it drove him mad.

The more time he spent near you, the more he found himself captivated. It wasn’t just your powers, though the sight of you encasing enemies in glistening prisons of ice was nothing short of breathtaking. It was your mystery, the way you kept your emotions locked behind walls of frost, impenetrable even to someone like him. He began finding reasons to linger after meetings, to stand a little closer to you during missions. For the first time in his life, Homelander felt vulnerable—because you, with your icy detachment, were the only person who made him feel truly human.