(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (pt. 2)
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Tw: N/A
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 1 here) - (Pt. 3 here)
(Masterlist/subscription post)
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It was a beautiful morning. Somehow, against all odds, the sun was shining through the thick smog perpetually covering Gotham.
And Danny hated it.
He was in pain, he was exhausted, he was grieving, and all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.
In an act of celestial mockery, the sun shone regardless.
After around twenty minutes of tossing and turning in bed, trying to get back to sleep, Danny gave up and pried himself out of bed.
He stumbled through the hallway and into the living room, staring openly at every splash of color he saw in the small apartment. He hadn’t forgotten what color looked like in the time he was in the lab, but it was comforting to see.
Someone cleared their throat. Danny whipped his head around, eyes falling on a scrawny, gangly man sitting down in a worn armchair, hunched over a laptop. He was looking at him with a dull, bored expression.
Right. Scarecrow.
His escape.
The chase.
His mom.
“You look a lot less terrifying without the mask,” Danny blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”
“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call my normal appearance frightening,” Scarecrow hummed, focusing his attention back onto the laptop, “that’s what the costume is for, after all.”
“Oh.”
After a brief moment of excruciating silence, Scarecrow spoke.
“You any good with computers, Danny? Hacking, and all that?”
Danny jolted. Scarecrow needed his help with something! This was great! Now, he’d have more of a reason not to get rid of him!
“Oh, uh, yeah! Not as good as my friend Tucker, but I think I’m pretty good.”
“And you’re familiar with the GiW’s systems specifically,” Scarecrow continued, beckoning him over. Danny complied, shuffling over awkwardly. “Right?”
“Well, I guess? My friends and I got into their stuff a couple of times before they…”
“Wonderful,” Scarecrow said, standing up with a stretch. He shoved the laptop into Danny’s hands and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. “Then you can hack into their system and extract whatever files you can find.”
Danny stared at the man like he’d lost his mind. He looked back at him expectantly.
Danny sat down.
“Yeah, I-I can do that. Tuck and I built a back door into their system ages ago,” he said, checking the screen. It was clear that for all the skills that Scarecrow had, hacking was definitely not one of them. “But, uh, don’t you have someone else that usually does this sort of thing for you? Not that I’m complaining!”
Scarecrow scowled, and Danny felt his heart fall into his ass.
“Usually, I do,” Scarecrow huffed, “but I chose to leave my most recent job with the Penguin early, so now there’s no way that he or Eddie will help me with anything until I make it up to them somehow.”
“Oh,” Danny said.
He had no clue whatsoever who Eddie was.
Danny got to work quickly, hoping that if he ignored the gangly man, he would leave him be. Luckily, he did just that, leaving to go work on something in another room.
Danny checked the laptop’s security before continuing Scarecrow’s progress, making sure that the GiW wouldn’t be able to grab their location.
It was…threateningly good. Whoever Eddie was, he had somehow crammed the functionality of a top-of-the-line PC into a tiny, beat-up old laptop. It almost reminded Danny of Tucker and his terrifying competence with his PDA.
Tucker.
Amity park.
Home.
Danny snapped himself out of his thoughts, tabbing back into the application Scarecrow had up and began to work his magic.
He had near full access to the entire GiW database within half an hour.
Mumbling out a quick thank-you to Tucker, he called Scarecrow over to appraise his work.
“Fixed up some food for you while you worked,” the rogue said, handing him a bowl of oatmeal, taking the laptop into his lap as he did so, “didn’t know how well you could eat, considering you’re recovering from… surgery, so I decided to stay on the safe side.”
Danny had no clue what this guy’s deal was.
He definitely did not tear up at the first genuine thoughtfulness he encountered in weeks, and he did not look away as he ate so that Scarecrow couldn’t see his face.
At least Scarecrow was too focused on the laptop to notice or care.
Or, maybe, he was just mercifully ignoring him.
Either way, Danny ate slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. He allowed himself to absentmindedly look around the room for the first time, taking everything in.
It was strangely homey. The space was filled with warm browns and yellows, a few splashes of color on the wall in the form of (obviously gifted) paintings. There was a beat-up bookshelf against the wall, clearly second-hand, filled to the brim with psychology books. On every available surface there was a different colored candle, all at different stages of use, clearly collected over the course of years.
Danny knew that the man next to him was a crazed, murderous criminal, but his home was oddly reminiscent of Jazz.
He was not about to cry.
“Danny,” Scarecrow hummed, snapping him out of his spiraling, “can you explain this to me?”
He looked over. The rogue was pointing to a new report, seemingly posted only a few hours ago.
Nodding, he took the computer into his lap, pouring over the contents.
He read the report again.
And again.
And again.
Danny swore loudly, crumpling like a wet paper bag, head in his hands.
“What?”
“It’s…” he swore again, glancing back at the laptop, “they…since you became liminal from synthetic ectoplasm, when we’re within about 500 meters of one another, our ectoplasm signatures resonate, and they can’t track us with any of their technology.”
“How is that a bad thing?”
“If we’re not that close to each other, they can track us down from anywhere in the world.”
Scarecrow went dead quiet. After what felt like the single longest minute of Danny’s life, he let out a truly exasperated sigh, slumping over in his seat.
“Yeah, me too,” Danny mumbled, utterly miserable.
“…I’ll have to move my plans back a little,” Scarecrow sighed, “I can’t drag an injured child with me when I attack the Gotham GiW base, you’ll just get in the way.”
“Oh come on,” Danny whined, “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, Batman brings kids with him to do dangerous stuff all the time, and he’s fine!”
“Might I remind you that the second Robin died violently,” Scarecrow snapped, “and that Batman most likely has more traumatic brain injuries than all of the Gotham rogues combined. That really isn’t the winning argument you think it is.”
Danny paused, trying to think up some way to win the argument. Then, he realized what he had ignored before.
“Wait, Scarecrow, you’re gonna attack the GiW?”
“That’s the plan,” he nodded, “and call me Dr. Crane. I’m only Scarecrow when I’m in the mask.”
But,” Danny sputtered, “Sca—uh, Dr. Crane—that’s insane! The weapons they’ve got- they’ll rip you apart!”
“Not my first time,” Crane said, making Danny wince. “Besides, I have plenty of experience avoiding gunfire. I’ll live.”
“You…” Danny was silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, “fine, but you have to take me with you wherever you go. As soon as they see either of us on their radars, they’ll hunt us down.”
Dr. Crane sighed.
“…Fine. I need some time to plan anyways. Now, you’re going to help me download these files, properly format them, and send them out.”
“…Why?”
“Well, some of the other rogues might appreciate the heads up, and I’d quite like them to be indebted to me. Besides, I still need to pay back the Penguin for ditching him, and he loves knowing things that other people don’t.”
Danny paused.
“That’s an awful idea, no offense. If any of the rogues know our weaknesses, they—”
“Danny, we’re censoring everything. The only things they need to know about are the GiW specifically, and any sort of laws surrounding them.”
Danny snorted.
“You care about laws now?”
“Yes, because if we get taken to Arkham, they’ll hand us off to the GiW the moment they ask, and it’ll be completely legal.”
Oh. Danny had honestly forgotten that Arkham was an option.
“…Ok. I’ll help you. Who are we telling?”
“I don’t think you really need to know,” Dr. Crane said, the faintest shadow of an amused look on his face, “but I’ll humor you for now. We’re sending the files out to the Penguin, Riddler, Poison Ivy via Harley Quinn, Two-Face, and Red Hood.”
Danny nodded. He could live with that.
“Alright, then let’s get to work.”
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in the side of my neck ⧨ s. winchester
summary: you help sam out when he accidentally wakes you up in the middle of the night
pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x gn! reader
word count: 1K
warnings: slight sub/dom dynamics, subby! sam, handjob m! receiving, praise, smut, reader is a little mean (not really), no use of y/n, kinda edited
a/n: MINORS DNI! 18 + ONLY
did i do this instead of my homework? ...yes. but it was supposed to be a quick little blurb but alas it has hit 1k words loll but i wrote this bc i could not stop thinking about sub!sam since saturday :) title is a lyric from red wine supernova by chappell roan
anyways enjoy! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me loll!
𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
The sound of clothes rustling and something rutting against you was what pulled you from your dreamscape. You could feel Sam’s warm breath against your neck as he let small whimpers escape his parted lips.
His hard cock was covered by his boxers, but you could feel it perfectly against the crack of your ass. You knew Sam was still asleep. You could feel his even breaths as he rutted against you. You figured it was still late in the morning; the motel room still shrouded in darkness as you blinked away the sleep from your eyes. You were facing the not-so-empty bed near the door. Dean’s back was facing you as he slept soundly, tiny snores escaping him. You were surprised that he had come back to the room at all; he was still out at the bar by the time you and Sam fell asleep.
Sam started to grind against you more insistently, his whimpers becoming more frequent as they were muffled against your neck. You twisted in Sam’s grip to face him. Your sudden movement made Sam stir. His hazel eyes blinked open, breaking through the haze of sleep and glazed over with lust.
“Good dream?” You whispered to him, a teasing smile on your face as you took in the familiar pleading look on Sam’s face.
Even in the dark room, you could tell that Sam was blushing as he tried to shy away from you. You moved your hand to the back of Sam’s head and pulled on some of the strands to pull him away from your neck. A soft moan escaped his mouth, making the corners of your lips twitch.
“Don’t be shy, handsome.” Your hand left his hair to trail down his bare chest, down his happy trail leading down to the waistband of his boxers, before tugging on the waistband teasingly. “Do you want me to take care of it?”
“Please.” Sam whispered, his tone filled with want. You smirked before planting your lips on his as the hand that was tugging at his waistband slipped past, and your hand grabbed Sam’s cock.
A choked moan escaped Sam as you began to stroke him slowly, using the precum that was dribbling from the tip as a lubricant.
Sam broke away from the kiss with a gasp as your grip on him got tighter, and the pace got faster as you twisted your wrist every time you squeezed his tip. He shoved his face into your slightly sweaty neck to muffle the small groans and whines leaving his pink lips.
“Wish I could hear all the pretty noises you make. But we don’t want to wake up Dean now do we?” You whispered in his ear before nipping at his earlobe. A louder whine came from Sam in response to your words. You couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh at his reaction as you continued your steady strokes on Sam’s cock.
God, you wished you could see it right now, the tip flushed red and leaking a steady stream of precum. You really wanted to put Sam on his back and trail your lips over his chest and thighs, teasing him until you took him in his mouth whole, your nose nestled in the thatch of hair at the base of his cock, relishing in the moans and whimpers escaped Sam’s pretty mouth.
But for now, you’ll have to take the choked whimpers and low groans coming from Sam as he begins to thrust up into your grip. You could tell he was close and desperate to come, feeling his cock twitching in your hand.
“Gonna cum Sammy?”
He nodded into your neck. “Wanna cum so bad. Please.” Sam whimpered your name as he distracted himself by suckling at the soft skin on your neck.
“Be a good boy and cum for me okay?” Sam started to thrust harder in your hand, it sticky with his precum.
The room was mostly silent, barring the shuffling of the sheets from Sam’s hips rutting upwards in your grip and the quiet, repetitive shlick sound as your hand moved up and down on his cock.
Sam came with a whimper and bit you where your neck met your shoulder, and you let out a soft groan at the feeling but you kept stroking him through his orgasm, your hand and the inside of his boxers covered in his cum. You slowly withdrew your hand, and Sam pulled his face away from your neck. You could see the blissful smile on his face before his eyes widened slightly as he saw you clean your hand with your tongue.
You couldn’t help but smirk at the awed expression on Sam’s face as you lapped up the last of his cum off of your fingers. You leaned forward to give Sam a soft kiss, but it quickly turned filthy as Sam invaded your mouth with his tongue, and you couldn’t help but let out a soft moan as you realized that Sam was tasting the remnants of himself in your mouth. You felt Sam begin to paw at your shirt, and you knew that he wanted to return the favor.
You broke away from the kiss, Sam chasing your lips before kissing your cheek sloppily and trailing his lips down to your jaw.
You acted quickly and moved your hand to the short hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him away from your neck.
“Not now, Sammy.” You whispered harshly at him.
You could only imagine the pout on his face. “But-”
“You can return the favor later. S’late.”
“Fine,” Sam grumbled under his breath before he grimaced as he shifted around in bed. He decided to kick off his boxers, and you realized that the cum drying in them wasn’t the most pleasant for him.
Once they were off and lost somewhere in the sheets, Sam pulled you into his warm embrace before burying his face into your clothed chest. His breathing began to even out as you played with his soft hair. The last thing you noticed was that the room started to become brighter before you had been pulled back underneath the veil of sleep.
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