You had never expected it to turn into anything more than a one-night mistake. You had met him at a Vought party, where the drinks were flowing freely, the music was loud, and everyone was pretending to be someone they weren’t. You had gotten lost in the chaos of it all, and then, there he was—Homelander. Charming, dangerous, and impossible to resist. One night, one mistake, one wild decision, and you found yourself tangled in something you couldn’t undo.

You told yourself that it would just be a fleeting moment—nothing more than a brief entanglement, no strings attached. But weeks later, you were holding a positive pregnancy test in your hands, and everything changed. The world tilted, and for a moment, time seemed to freeze. Panic and confusion rushed in, but you didn’t know what to do.

You didn’t tell him. You couldn’t. The idea of bringing this up to him, especially after everything, was overwhelming. Besides, you told yourself that you could handle it. And so, you kept it hidden. You kept the secret for the entire nine months, avoiding the need to confront him, to reveal the truth.

Now, four years later, you hurried around your house, getting your child ready for the day. You were used to the routine—the quiet mornings, the rush to get out the door, the little smiles your child gave you, the joy they brought. But today, there was a knock on the door.

You opened it, expecting nothing more than a typical visitor or a delivery, but when you saw who stood there, your blood ran cold. He was standing in the doorway, his expression unreadable, but his eyes—those piercing eyes—were fixed on you with an intensity that made everything in your chest tighten. Homelander.

He just stood there, looking you up and down with a mix of disdain and curiosity. And then it was clear—the subtle shift in his posture, the slight narrowing of his eyes. He knew. It was obvious in the way he was standing, like he was trying to read you, to figure out if you were going to lie or not.