When you laugh, I almost died | 10

[ The next day ]

[ Morning ]

Donna moves quietly, glancing toward the living room where John is occupied with another call from Vought.

She turns back to Annie, lowering her voice.

"Come with me. " She whispers, already leading the way toward the upstairs bathroom.

Annie hesitates but follows. Her mom's urgency makes her stomach twist, like she already knows what this is about.

Once inside, Donna closes the door behind them, turning to face her daughter. She reaches into a drawer and pulls out a small, unopened box she bought for Annie. Donna doesn't say anything at first, just gives her a knowing look, soft but firm, as she presses it into her hands.

"You need to take this. " She says simply. Annie's fingers tighten around the box.

Shs nods, because her mother is right. It's time to face it and be sure. Annie turns toward the sink, and rips open the box.

[ A Few Minutes Later ]

Annie stares down at the small plastic stick in her hands, her breath caught in her throat. The two pink lines are bright. Undeniable.

She's pregnant with John's child.

Beside her, Donna watches closely, arms crossed, lips pressed together her expression is one of understanding. Acceptance. Almost expectant.

Annie forces herself to breathe. "It's real. " She murmurs, almost to herself. "I'm really… having his baby. " Donna steps forward, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder.

"You are. " Her voice is steady, reassuring. "And it's not something to be afraid of, sweetheart. " She adds. Annie laughs softly, disbelieving.

"Mom, it's Homelander's baby. The most powerful man on the planet. What if-" She begins.

"Then that means your child will be extraordinary. " Donna squeezes her shoulder. Donna kneels slightly, bringing herself to eye level with her daughter, her tone gentle but firm.

"You need to tell him, sweatheart. Sooner rather than later. " She says to her precious daughter.

"He deserves to know. And you deserve to have his support. " Donna continues, softer now.

"Yeah. You're right. But not today. " Annie nods slowly. She looks down at the test one more time. The proof of what she already felt, deep in her bones.

Her hand settles over her stomach. A new life. John's child. Their child.

In the morning they goes to the city funfair. It's alive with color and sound, the scent of fried food in the air, the flashing lights of carnival rides, the distant shrieks of children and thrill-seekers alike.

Annie walks between John and Donna, one hand laced with his, the other tucked under her mother's arm.

John, as expected, dominates every rigged carnival game, knocking down bottles, sinking impossible shots, racking up prizes with zero effort.

"You're supposed to miss a few. " Annie teases while Donna laugh, giving away another stuffed animals to a young girl passing by.

The day feels strangely perfect. No cameras, no missions, no obligations, just Annie, John, and Donna, moving through the city as if they were any normal family.

Lunchtime is at one of the city's most exclusive restaurants, the kind of place where reservations are impossible, and the waitstaff practically worships John ans Annie the moment they step inside as they easily recognize them.

Donna takes the attention and respect from being with them in stride, enjoying it, Annie catches her eyes flicking between the two of them every so often, like she's still processing their status.

At some point, as their meal winds down, John's hand settles over Annie's, his thumb brushing absently against her skin.

"You doing okay ? " He asks intimately, just for her, watching her refuse a glass of red. Annie meets his gaze, warmth spreading through her chest.

"She's doing fine. " Donna says, a small knowing smile playing at her lips. "She has you, doesn't she ? "

Their last stop is Pappajohn Sculpture Park, the city skyline glowing softly in the distance, the massive steel and stone structures casting long shadows in the moonlight.

Annie walks at John's side, fingers laced with his, feeling light, happy, content. Her mother walks beside him too, close, almost pressed against him.

His other arm rests casually at Donna's waist, guiding both of them as they stroll through the park. Every so often, his fingers press lightly into her hip, steering her the way he wants, just like he does with Annie.

"Never really got the point of this stuff. " John admits, eyeing a towering abstract piece. "Looks like a pile of metal someone forgot to clean up. "

"It's about interpretation. It makes people feel something. " Annie laughs, nudging him playfully.

"You make me feel something. " John smirks, glancing down at her.

[ Ashley's Apartment ]

Ashley took her one night stand to her apartment.

Her apartment. Not some dingy, one-room rental like some of her college friends still live in. A real place, a real space because now, she's someone.

Because he made her someone. Homelander helped her rise. Got her recognition. Got her that raise. She worked hard sure but his favor tipped the scales. Now, people listen when she speaks.

Ashley leans over the bed, one hand gripping the man's wrist, the other pressing firmly into his chest. She slaps him, once, twice, until he begs to stop.

"Mistress please ! " The masochist man begs her and she smile widely.

She moves faster, rougher, nails dragging along his skin, lips parted but still, nothing.

" You've put all of it inside ? " Ashley asks, destroying the man already low ego. He's not particularly small, he's average but after tasting Homelander he seems so ridiculous to Ashley.

Her mind drifts, against her will, to him. To Homelander. To the way he handled her The way he made her submit effortlessly, the way his cock filled her fully, leaving no crevices untouched in her pussy.

The way he made her feel small. Weak. Helpless. She thought she hated it. She should have hated it. But now ? Now, nothing else feels like enough. It's been a month since he last touched her and she's been on fire ever since.

Ashley slows, frustration mounting, she gets up and looks at him condescendingly.

"On your knees. " She orders him amd he comply obediently while she puts on a strapon and get behind him.

"You're more pussy than man slave, so you'll get treated as such ! " Ashley says coldly, slapping his ass with a martinet and getting ready to destroy his backdoor.

At least this will stimulate her mentally until Homelander decide she needs to get dicked down again and she can really get satisfied.

[ With Kimiko ]

The warehouse is a slaughterhouse. Kimiko moves like a ghost, her feet barely making a sound over the blood-slicked concrete. Bodies drop before they even realize she's there.

A man lunges with a machete, she catches his wrist, snaps it backward then buries the blade in his throat. Blood sprays, painting her face.

Another opens fire, bad move. She's already on him, fingers digging into his jaw, thumbs pressing deep into his eye sockets until they burst with a wet pop.

The rest try to run. She doesn't let them. By the time it's over, the ground is soaked. The only sound left is the wet drip of blood pooling beneath her feet.

One step closer. She needs to join The Seven for one reason to find her brother. To use Vought's resources, their reach, their intel.

That's what she decides with Homelander, while he'll help her if she just ask she can't only count on him to do the work. It isn't fair for him, he already saved her and helped her attack the camp she was detained with her brother in the past.

She has another reason.

The Shining Light Liberation Army, the ones who made her into this, who stole her life, who stole her brother. She's going to kill them all.

She could tell Vought all this, or the public. Could explain, could speak.

Because the truth is she can speak again. She found her voice shamefully, unexpectedly, tangled beneath him. It wasn't in rage, or pain, or freedom but in surrender to his dick. In Homelander's arms.

And now ? Now she can't seem to use her voice for anyone else.

[ Last day of their weekend ]

The scent of dinner still faintly clings to the kitchen, but now, it's just the two of them, alone in her bedroom.

John leans against the dresser, arms crossed, watching her.

Annie stands a few feet away, fidgeting, her fingers twisting together.

"There's something on your mind baby. " He says, having noticed it for a moment.

Forcing herself to meet his eyes, piercing, unreadable, waiting. Annie throat is dry. But it's too late to back out now.

"I-" She stops, inhales sharply then tries again. "I'm pregnant. " Annie finally says it.

John doesn't move at first. Doesn't even blink. Then, slowlyhe pushes off the dresser, stepping toward her. Annie holds her ground, but her pulse is thunderous in her ears. When he finally stops, he's so close she can feel the heat radiating off him.

"Say it again. " He says. Not a request. A command.

"I'm pregnant. " Annie repeats it.

Something flickers behind his gaze something dark, something possessive, something terrifyingly pleased. He gaze at her womb, his vision peeling away the skin and tissues until he sees the small developing embryo growing inside her.

His hand comes up, settling firmly over her womb, like he's claiming something that was always his. A slow smirk curls at the corner of his lips.

"You're carrying my child. " He says voice almost reverent. His fingers press just a little harder, as if cementing the fact that she's his in a way no one else could ever be.

Annie lets out a breath she didn't realize she was holding. Then, his other hand cradles her jaw.

"I was afraid…I didn't know how you'd react. " Annie lets out a shaky laugh. John's gaze snaps back to hers, sharp, almost insulted by the thought.

"Afraid ? " His grip on her waist tightens. "Of me ? "

"I didn't know if…if you wanted this. If you'd be happy. " She bites her lip, nods just slightly.

"You're carrying my baby. Do you have any idea what that means ? " He asks.

"What ? " Annie blinks.

"You're the most important person in the world, the only that truly matters and you're mine. " John says, leaning in, lips grazing her forehead. The weight of his words settles deep in her chest.

A slow, genuine smile spreads across her lips.

"I am happy, John. " She says, voice soft, certain. "Really happy."

"Good. " He answers, his lips brushing against hers. Now he really need to get a ring on her finger he thinks while kissing tenderly his woman.

However, while this revelation makes him the proudest and happiest, it also raises a question. A question that keeps going nagging and making him feel angry.

Why was it so easy to impregnated Starlight while Maeve never got pregnant despite the many times he pumped her womb full.

An answer quickly comes to his mind, evident, Vought. All roads lead to Vought. Every time.

He struggles to restrain his fury, to not ruin this moment with Annie despite the realization Vought interfered with his life at every step. The source of his woes.

[ One Week Later ]

[ Homelander's Penthouse ]

The city glows beneath them, the skyline stretching endlessly beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Homelander's penthouse.

Annie moves through the space effortlessly now her space. Her things are here. She is here. No more pretending she belongs anywhere but by his side.

And yet, despite the warmth of her presence, despite the satisfaction of knowing she's carrying his child, something festers inside him.

A grievance.

It should have taken longer. Should have been harder. And yet, one month of unprotected sex and Annie was pregnant. Just like that.

So why not Maeve ?

He filled her again and again, claimed her body, her womb for years and nothing. Not once. Not even a scare.

Everything always leads back to Vought. Every step of his life controlled, altered, manipulated. And now, even this ? Hiding Becca Butcher death and his stillborn son was already an enormous slight but this.

His jaw clenches, his fingers tightening into fists.

He wants to tear through the Tower, demand answers, make someone bleed.

But not yet.

Instead, he lets a smirk tug at his lips, brushing a hand over Annie's stomach as she leans into him, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing inside him.

[ That Night ]

Homelander stands at the window, arms crossed, cape draped loosely over his shoulders.

Tonight, he's paying Madelyn a visit. She'll have answers. Or she'll wish she did.

Homelander soars through the night, faster than sound, his eyes blaze red-hot, cutting through the darkness like twin embers ready to ignite. Madelyn. That conniving bitch.

The anger boils inside him like a storm, pushing him faster, harder, until the air itself crackle in his wake. His cape whipping violently behind him.

The sky shudders as Homelander lands on her doorstep, hard enough to rattle the windows.

Inside, Madelyn startles, nearly dropping her wine glass. She doesn't need to check the cameras. She knows exactly who's at her door but she still does. A slow, practiced exhale. Control. Calm. Contain.

But as soon as she unlocks the door, as soon as she meets his eyes the illusion shatters.

His eyes are still glowing, still burning, still itching to sear through her skull.

She steps back on instinct. "John-" The door slams shut behind him.

"You're going to answer a question for me. " He says, voice too quiet, too controlled.

Madelyn swallows. "If this is about Becca, I already-"

"Not about Becca." His voice is sharp and cold. He takes a slow step forward, and she mirrors it in retreat.

"Tell me why Maeve never got pregnant. " He says his voice still dangerously calm.

The blood drains from her face and her heart skip a beat.

"You tampered with her. " He says.

Madelyn straightens, trying to collect herself. "John-"

"You think I wouldn't notice ? That I wouldn't figure it out ? " His cape billows as he takes another step, his shadow drowning her.

"Vought couldn't risk a pregnancy. A child born from you and Maeve, the two strongest supe ? With your genetics ?" Madelyn tries to explain. She presses forward now, desperate, trying to salvage control.

"If Maeve got pregnant, it would've changed everything. It would've-" She continues but Homelander moves faster than she can react.

One hand snaps to her jaw fingers tightening and he tunes her out, his vision reddening.

The air smells like burning flesh.

The walls are splattered with red, charred black where his heat vision burned straight through her skull. l

Homelander stands expression blank over what's left of Madelyn Stillwell, her skull seared open, her body slumped against the counter.

He should feel satisfied. But he doesn't. Because Madelyn wasn't the only problem.

His mind shifts to the next step. This can't be messy. Not yet.

Vought can't know. Not until he's ready to take over.

[ Later ]

By morning, Madelyn Stillwell will be alive again. At least, that's what Vought will think.

The shapeshifter, Doppelganger adjusts the fit of his new skin, standing before the mirror in Stillwell's house, practicing her voice, her smile, her poise. Her posture as she holds Teddy.

He'll play the part for now. Until it's time to disappear when Homelander will gives the signal.

[ Earlier That Day ]

[ Ashley's Office ]

Ashley sits at her desk, legs crossed, trying not to look nervous or moans as Homelander leans over her from behind. His hands under her blouse, playing with her boobs, tweaking her nipples.

"I need Doppelganger. " Homelander says, matter-of-fact, unquestionable. "And I need it done quietly. " He adds.

"Of course ! Yeah, I mean, no problem, I can-" Ashley nods too quickly. Homelander's eyes narrow, and she shuts up immediately.

She doesn't ask why. She doesn't ask what for. She just makes it happen.

By evening, Doppelgänger is secured.

By night, Madelyn Stillwell is dead.

By morning, she's alive again.

Now that this point has been set. He raises her up from her confortable chair, pulling up her skirt and pushing aside her panties while freeing his dick.

His hands snaking around her lower back, and he suddenly pulls her to him before his hands got a firm grasp on her supple butt. She instinctively puts her arms around his neck and circles his waist with her legs.

He rubs the tip of his dick in her labia, lubricating himself using her wetness and opening her entrance to his thick cock. She flares her nostrils, acting like she hasn't been waiting for this for weeks.

Slamming his hips forward, burying a good portion of his cock in her tight folds, he saws in and out of her pussy.

"Hmmm, Ahn~ Hng." Ashley moans as she clenches around him, her hands going to his broad and muscular back as finally is balls deep inside her, hitting the entrance of her womb.

He's easily bouncing her on his cock at the same time that he slams his hips against hers. A rough, fast, and hard fucking that knocks the breath out of her lungs each time he buries himself to the hilt.

He is using her like a toy, not that she can contribute much, Ashley is at his mercy... and she finds it hot.

Not a single part of her body is touching the ground, she has no leverage as Homelander fucks her rhythmically. She only needs to receive the pleasure of the dick that stretches her out.

It didn't take long for Ashley to become a mess, her eyes crossing to the back of her head, her mouth opening with her tongue out as she hugs his head tightly and cums on his cock strongly.

Noticing her orgasm, John does not slow down his thrusts, going even faster, rocking her body with waves pleasure as she comes down from her climax and is assaulted by another as soon.

" Ahh~ I've missed this~" Ashley whispers as Homelander continues to pounds her pussy till she orgasm three more times.

Suddenly she's back on ground, pushed on her knees as his familiar dick meets her lips and she welcomes it. Sucking it till he cum in her mouth, swallowing his jizz eagerly.