The penthouse was quiet for the first time in days.
Homelander had left for a late-night strategy meeting with Edgar and the remaining Vought executives. Something about "stabilizing the narrative" after Season 4's fallout. He'd kissed me hard before leaving, promising he'd be back soon to "check on his favorite girl."
I was finally alone.
I stood in the massive bathroom, steam still curling from the shower I'd just taken. The white robe hung loosely off my shoulders, barely tied. The mirror stretched across the entire wall — floor to ceiling, mercilessly clear.
I stared at the reflection.
Golden hair damp and wavy. Flushed cheeks. Full lips slightly parted. The robe had slipped open just enough to show the inner curves of my breasts and the flat plane of my stomach. Between my legs, the smooth mound was still glistening faintly from the shower.
This was me now.
Not Kevin. Not The Deep.
Starlight.
I let the robe fall to the floor.
My hands — Annie's delicate hands — rose slowly. I cupped my breasts, feeling their weight, the softness, the way my nipples tightened instantly under my own touch. A small shiver ran through me.
"Fuck…" I whispered. The voice was still hers. Sweet and breathy.
I squeezed gently, rolling the sensitive peaks between my fingers. Pleasure sparked low in my belly, quick and unfamiliar. My thighs pressed together on instinct.
I'd never felt anything like this when I was in my old body. Everything here was amplified — softer, deeper, more electric.
My right hand slid down my stomach, slow and hesitant. Fingers brushed over the smooth skin until they reached the warm folds between my legs. I was already wet again. Not from Homelander this time. Just from looking. From touching.
I bit my lip and spread my legs a little wider, leaning back against the marble counter.
The first stroke was light — just my fingertips gliding over my clit. A soft gasp escaped my throat. The sensation was so intense it made my knees weak.
"Oh… shit…"
I did it again, circling slowly. My hips rocked forward on their own. The mirror showed everything: the way my chest rose and fell faster, the flush spreading down my neck and across my breasts, the way my thighs trembled.
I slipped one finger inside myself. Tight. Hot. Wet. The walls clenched around the intrusion, sending a fresh wave of pleasure up my spine.
I added a second finger, thrusting slowly while my thumb kept rubbing my clit in tight circles.
The moans coming out of my mouth sounded nothing like the old me. They were high, needy, feminine. Annie's voice moaning like a porn star while I fucked myself in her body.
I watched my own reflection the whole time — eyes half-lidded, lips parted, golden hair sticking to my damp skin.
It felt dirty. It felt wrong.
It felt incredible.
I imagined Homelander walking in right now and seeing me like this — legs spread, fingers buried deep inside myself, moaning like a slut in his bathroom. The thought made me clench harder.
Faster. Harder.
I curled my fingers, searching for that spot I'd felt when Homelander fucked me. When I found it, my whole body jerked.
"Ah— fuck, right there—"
My free hand gripped the counter so hard my knuckles turned white. The pressure built fast — tight, coiling, unstoppable. My hips bucked against my own hand. Wet sounds filled the bathroom.
I was close. So fucking close.
In the mirror, the woman looking back at me didn't look scared anymore. She looked hungry. Eyes glowing faintly with that inner light Annie used to control. My light now.
"Come on…" I gasped, voice breaking. "Come on, you perfect little slut… cum for me…"
The orgasm hit like a lightning bolt.
My back arched violently. A loud, broken cry tore from my throat as my walls spasmed around my fingers. Warm wetness gushed over my hand, dripping down my thighs. My whole body shook, breasts bouncing with every shudder.
I kept rubbing through it, drawing it out until I was whimpering, oversensitive, legs barely holding me up.
When it finally faded, I slumped against the counter, panting hard.
In the mirror, the new Starlight stared back at me — flushed, messy, glowing with aftershocks.
I brought my soaked fingers to my lips and tasted myself. Sweet. Electric. Just like Homelander had said.
A small, dark smile crept onto my face.
"This body…" I whispered to my reflection, voice husky. "It's fucking mine now."
For the first time since the transplant, the voice in my head didn't sound like Kevin anymore.
It sounded like Starlight.
And she was starting to like it.