#I hope only bad things continue to happen to him and Dick

[ra-archives]

The Death of Jason Todd

[mirthmave]

So I was thinking about the whole younger siblings getting taller that older siblings thing that I am a victim of and it got me thinking.

So it’s known that some boys will continue to grow until they reach the age of 21 . Not all of them mind you, but some of them do.

From what I remember, Dick is currently 26, Jason is 22-23, Tim is forever 16-17 and Damian is 14.

Dick being the eldest was able to stay the tallest for a long time. Then Jason came back around 17-18 and suddenly his little brother isn’t so little anymore and Dick suddenly realises that it is possible that the others will get taller than him as well.

Damian is a given as Bruce is 6’2” so Dick knows that he hasn’t got a chance there, especially when Damian starts getting that mid-teen growth spurt. But Tim…

Tim has always been shorter than him by four inches. He’s 5’6” and Dick is 5’10” and the kid is barely growing. There is hope that he will continue to be taller than Tim!

Little does Dick know that Tim is still growing, just slowly.

Something happens that causes Tim and Dick not to see each other for a little while (nothing bad, just busy vigilante stuff) so it comes as a shock to Dick when they can all get together for dinner finally that he’s not seeing the top of Tim’s head.

No, that boy is now looking at him eye to eye.

Only not completely because Tim now has an inch on Dick.

[clockwayswrites]

City Pigeons Bleed Green Part 22

masterpost

Someone’s fingers were in Danny’s hair when he woke. The fingers weren’t so much carding through his hair as petting him. Some sleepy part of him wondered if that was something he should be offended by, but the comfort of it far outweighed any offense of being pet like a cat. Besides, the touch said safe.

He’d woken last night with a nightmare.

It hadn’t been a bad one— at least not once he was awake. Swirling starscapes and the smell of something woody and spiced brought him back to the here quickly despite the unnerving quiet of the Manor. Still, it had been a nightmare and Danny was very grateful when Jason had settled, more upright than not, next to him the bed.

That was very much not Jason’s hand in his hair though. It wasn’t big enough.

Danny made a mumbled noise to let whoever it was know he was starting to wake up. The hand stilled and then pulled away. (He should have stayed quiet.)

“Good morning, Brother.” Oh, Damian. “Todd and Grayson are off doing something that is surely inane. Grayson asked that I stay with you until you woke. I hope that was not a problem…?”

“Nope. Thank you for staying,” Danny said around a jaw cracking yawn. “It’s, um, just change, you know?”

“Yes,” Damian agreed after a moment. He continued almost hesitantly. “When I first arrived at the Manor from the League, I woke often from the quiet. In the League, there is always movement with guards changes and the global nature of it. It is also unwise to sleep too soundly there. The act of… fully resting is one that has taken me time to accept. But it is safe here. Father and the others would allow nothing to harm us here.”

Danny finally made himself open his eyes and roll over so that he could look up at Damian. His little brother, though not by much. “…yeah, they wouldn’t, would they?”

“They would not.”

“Thank you for staying with me anyways,” Danny said.

Damian’s resulting blush was pretty adorable.

“Yes, well, you are welcome,” Damian said as he swiftly stood. “Breakfast will be at the hour. That should be plenty of time for you to appropriately ready yourself.”

Danny held back a still sleepy laugh as Damian practically fled the bedroom. Then he took a moment to stretch slowly from the very tips of his toes to the tips of his fingers. The bed— his bed was just the right side of firm while the bedding softened everything back down. Despite the nightmare, Danny felt well rested.

It was a feeling he could get used to.

Breakfast called though, so Danny got up, showered (a novelty he still enjoyed), and dressed. The Red Hood sweater was a comfort that things hadn’t changed too much even though everything felt (and was) so very different.

If he got a little lost on the way down to the kitchen, well, that was just an adventure, wasn’t it?

-

Someone had saved Danny a spot between Dick and Damian, and Danny tucked into it quietly. The table was alive with chatter and people passing around plates. It was overwhelming. It was nice.

The seat at the head of the table was empty, and Danny figured it must be for Bruce who was just now stepping into the chaos of the dinning room. He stopped behind Jason’s chair and rested a hand on his shoulder. “I see you were busy last night.”

Jason jutted his chin up defiantly. “Dick was there too.”

“Ever the big brother. Well, I’m proud of you, Jaybird,” Bruce said and dropped a kiss to the top of Jason’s head.

It left Jason looking completely stunned. His mouth open and closed a few times before he mumbled a quiet thanks and tucked into himself as much as someone Jason’s size could.

Worried about Jason’s response, Danny looked to Dick. He looked only proud though, grinning at both Jason and Bruce, so Danny tried not to worry about it. They would either explain it or not.

There would be a lot that happened now that Danny wouldn’t get or understand, and that would have to be okay. They’d been a family long before him. The others had managed to join though and become part of it, so Danny would too. Or at least Danny could try to believe that he would too. He was trying to have hope again.

“Master Danny,” Alfred called from the doorway. “Do you enjoy eggs with breakfast and if so, what kind?”

“I, um, yeah, I’ve been enjoying what Jay’s been making me.”

“Master Tim, what sort of eggs has Master Jason been making?”

Tim blinked up blearily from his mug of coffee. “Why would I know that?”

“Scrambled,” Jason said to Tim. “Or over-hard. Nothing with runny yolk.”

Alfred continued to look at Tim pointedly, who shifted in his seat before repeating what Jay had said.

“Thank you, Master Tim,” Alfred replied before sweeping away rather dramatically, for a man in an old fashion suit.

“Okay, what the fuck?” Tim questioned several beats later.

Bruce, of all people, hid a smirk behind his hand.

“Jason’s mad at Alfred, and Alfred is maybe not handling that well,” Dick answered eventually.

“Wait, Jason, at Alfred?” Duke asked, leaning forward to look at Jason with wide eyes. “Is something going to explode? Has exploded? Will be rigged to explode soon?”

“Naw, all the destruction is long gone and none of it was exploding,” Jason said, then paused. “Okay, well I guess it did start with an explosion.”

“Oh my god, Jason,” Dick said and buried his face in his hands.

“It’s my death, I’m allowed to joke about it.”

“Oh, is that the rule?” Danny asked.

Suddenly all eyes turned to him. Danny leaned as far back into his chair he could. The attention was more than a little intimidating.

“Yes,” Jason said with a pointed gesture of his cup.

“No,” everyone else at the table replied.

Danny was a little confused.

“Maybe wait until we’ve talked about how you’ve died,” Bruce said. There was a strained tone under his gentle words. “And give us a little time to come to terms with it.”

“Oh.” Danny gave a little nod. He tried not to think about all the things that he still needed to tell. “That makes sense. Since I still haven’t…”

“How about a tour of the manor after breakfast?” Dick asked, scattering Danny’s thoughts.

“What?”

Dick shrugged. “Well, you didn’t really see much yesterday. We should give you the full tour. This place is big.”

“And confusing,” Duke added. “Take every tour you can get. I’ve been lost more than once.”

“Thomas is being dramatic,” Damian said with a sniff.

“No, he’s right,” Jay said. “You rich boys don’t get a say in what’s normal.”

Tim waved away the comment. “Are we including downstairs in the tour?”

Everyone but Danny seemed to look to Bruce for that answer.

“I don’t see why not. After all, Danny has known most of you all longer in the masks then out of them. It isn’t like that part of our family is anything hidden,” Bruce said. “Besides, if Danny needs anything during the night, he should know where to go.”

“Not that we’re all going to be out on the streets right now,” Dick assured quickly. “There’s going to be some of us still in the manor every night.”

Danny was saved from having to say anything to that by Alfred coming back with plates, but he thought that at least a few of them noticed his tight grip on his coffee cup.

-

The tour started on the ground floor. It turned out that there was more than enough to see there before even getting to the second floor and Bruce’s office, Damian’s art room, a study room, etc.— Danny didn’t know how he would find anyone. The manor might be great when people needed quiet or time apart, but how was Danny going to find anyone?

In the apartment, all Danny had to do was walk out of his room. There was always someone right there in the living room or kitchen. There was always someone when Danny needed them. Now if he walked out of his room there were at least eight rooms to try. There were studies and offices and sitting rooms. There was a library and cinema and an indoor pool. There was a billiards room.

It was like a game of Clue.

Danny F—Phantom, in laboratory, with the portal. And the scalpel and the acid and the electricity—

The hand he quickly slapped over his mouth with didn’t quite cover up the hysterical laughter.

Jay turned to look at him, question and worry both evident in his eyes.

“Sorry, just… weird thought. Can we… could we take a break before the basement part? It’s just a lot.”

“Of course we can, Brother,” Damian said and immediately started them off in a different direction.

He’d been acting as the main tour guide, as was his ‘duty as the blood son’. Jay had come, because Danny was still embarrassingly attached to him and Dick, and Duke trailed along with because ‘someone was needed to translate the rich into real person’. It turned into an interesting set of commentary, that was for sure.

Danny was glad for the break and how that apparently meant refreshing lemonade, fresh fruit, and cookies in one of the sitting rooms.

“It’s wild, isn’t it?” Steph said.

Apparently she’d shown up at the manor at some point, which meant that her, Cass, and Tim were also joining them for the break. Jay had left to ‘drag Dick out of the hell pit’, whatever that meant.

“Yeah, it is. I really think mansions are just like that though. Every one that I’ve seen has been wild in some way,” Danny said. “Though this one takes it as far as history and sheer… grandeur.”

“Dude, how many mansions have you been in?” Duke asked as he snagged another cookie.

“Okay, well, maybe only three, but they’ve all been wild. One had a bowling alley and the other was owned by a half-dead villain,” Danny explained. He paused thoughtfully. “Or maybe everyone I know… knew is just weird.”

“I mean, looking around this room…,” Steph said.

“I’d be insulted if it wasn’t true,” Tim said.

“You’re a drama queen, I bet you’re insulted anyways,” Steph replied.

Tim gasped, dramatically, and through his hand across his forehead. “How dare.”

Danny covered his soft laughter with another bite of a cookie. It was a little overwhelming having so many of them around at once, but it was also nice. Everything was so much more… alive. Danny could use to be more alive.

“Having cookies without me?” Bruce asked as he leaned against the doorway.

“Yes,” Tim answered without hesitation.

“I see,” Bruce said with a slight smile. “Danny, why don’t you steal a few and come with me.”

Danny nodded, scooped up several cookies into a napkin, and headed Bruce’s way. He held open is haul when he got close. He hoped Bruce liked the same type of cookies as him. Bruce took a white macadamia nut cookie, one of Danny’s favorite. Danny ducked his head with a smile.

“So,” Bruce started after they had been walking a bit, “did they show you where my study is?”

“Mhum.”

“Good. You’re always welcome to come in if you need me, even if I’m in a meeting or working, all my children are.”

“I—okay, got it,” Danny said. He fiddled with the napkin before plucking out a macaroon to chew on.

“Good,” Bruce said. Danny didn’t know if Bruce believed him. “I was thinking that you and I could start to to look over the Batcave together, there are a few things I’d like to talk to you about.”

Danny nodded and popped the rest of the macaroon in his mouth for the excuse not to talk. He followed Bruce into his study, through (of all things) the grandfather clock, and into the wall. The elevator ride down was quick and the air got noticeably colder until the world opened up into an actual cave.

The space was full of vehicles, spaces he assumed were rooms, a massive computer, and several very large, very odd items. Who just had a life sized t-rex? Apparently Batman, that’s who.

Bruce lead them over to a round meeting table and sat down. He motioned for Danny to do the same, so Danny did and placed the napkin of cookies on the table between them.

“Danny,” Bruce leaned forward and clasped his hands. “I want to assure that there is no obligation or expectation that you do anything with the vigilante work.”

Danny glanced away from Bruce’s serious gaze. “I… everyone else does…”

“Yes, and sometimes I hate myself for that.”

Danny started, gaze snapping back to Bruce.

He smiled somberly. “I’m not exactly the most well adjusted person and I know that. I doubt I would have ever been ‘normal’, but losing my parents so young to a violent crime and being raised by a man who still calls me ‘master’ didn’t help. I feel a… profound sense of obligation to this city and guilt when something in it goes wrong. To me, my wealth and skills means it is my duty to protect Gotham, often at the sacrifice of all else. Too many times that drive has almost lost me the things that matter most.

“When Dick first came to me after his parents death he was angry and reckless and determined to get justice. I saw so much of myself in him that in an effort to protect him, I let him follow in my footsteps. When Jason joined the family… I wish I had been clearer that his place in this family wasn’t dependent on him becoming a vigilante. I wish I had told he in very clear words that I would love him no matter what. I’m still working to make up for that.”

Danny pulled a the the sleeve of the too large hoodie he was wearing. “What if I… what if I feel that sort of guilt to?”

Bruce let out a huff of air. “You and I, we bring up the very complicated question of what is nature verses what is nurture. I will always work to never assume that how I might do or feel something is the same as how you might. I know there are times where I will mess up though. And if you do feel a guilt like that, I know very much how it feels and I will do my best to help you through it or set you up with someone who can.”

“What if it doesn’t go away?”

“I wouldn’t be trying to make it go away,” Bruce assured him firmly. “What I would be trying to do is give you the tools to handle it in a healthy way. To know where your lines are. Our goal is to make sure that you’re happy and healthy. After that, if you still want to be a Cape, we can talk about what that would look like for you.”

“Okay,” Danny said after a moment. “Can I… if I don’t end up being, um, a Cape, can I… would I still be allowed to change into my other form?”

“Of course, Danny,” Bruce said. There was soft look about him that Danny couldn’t quite name. “Since you were injured last time you were in it, I would like someone to be with you when you first changed so you can have medical help if you need it. But if there’s no issue, you can change whenever you want to. We want all of you here.”

Danny rubbed at his eyes. He wasn’t going to cry. “I—thank you.”

“Are you seriously having a heart to heart in the Batcave, B?” Jay interrupted as he stepped out of the elevator.

Dick bounded out from behind him and over to scoop Danny up into hug that Danny leaned happily into.

“It’s fine. It was… it was needed,” Danny said. He peaked out from around Dick’s arms and glanced from Jason to Bruce and back. “Bruce has something to say to you also.”

“Danny,” Bruce sighed.

Danny buried himself back into Dick’s hug. His reply was muffled. “Better late then too late, right?”

“Right,” Bruce agreed after a beat. “Danny and I were talking about how there’s no expectation for him to be a vigilante. I wish… that I had been clearer about that with you, Jaylad. I wish I had told you that neither your place here or my love for you was contingent on you becoming Robin.”

Dick sucked in a sharp breath and his arms tightened around Danny, but he stayed silent. It was very silent.

Finally Jay cleared his throat. “Yeah, I wish you had too, old man.”

“It’s still true,” Bruce said quickly. “If you want to go to college still or start a foundation—anything you want, chum.”

“Right. I’ll… yeah, I’ll think about it.”

“But for now,” Dick cut in excitedly, “time to show off the the fun parts of the Batcave!”

“He means the dangerous parts,” Jay said. His voice was still a little rough sounding.

“Boys…” Bruce said, sounding resigned. “Danny is still healing. Let’s keep the dangerous parts to a minimum, please.”

“Sure, B,” Dick chirped in the least unconvincing way possible.

Danny was afraid in that good excited away, like right before the drop on a roller coaster. It was a nice sort of fear to have and he smiled as Dick dragged him off deeper into the cave.

[quizzicalwriter]

i literally understand if u don’t do this request but dally coming home in a rly bad mood to femreader n being rough like spanking choking 🤧

Mercy

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Believe it or not Dallas had his fair share of patience, but you’d managed to wear it thin - imagine that.

Warnings: Smut. MDNI. Choking, hair-pulling, fingering, blowjobs, overall rough sexual themes.

A/N: Thank you for the request and the kind words! And I absolutely write things like this, so don’t worry!

Word Count: 3.4k

You weren’t normally possessive over Dallas. Alright, that was a lie. Usually, you weren’t overly possessive, but some women made it difficult. You could be at a house party, out with the guys, it wouldn’t matter if his arm was around your waist - some woman would inevitably ogle at him and you’d have to drape yourself over him like some makeshift blanket to get them to look away.

Dallas always shot them down, something that made you feel secure whenever you saw it. Most of the time he was too busy with whatever had caught his attention to give anyone the time of day, unless it happened to be you or the guys. He never faulted you for your possessive nature, he was the same damn way - only the last time a guy had flirted with you in front of him it’d nearly resulted in a fistfight.

You’d been hoping that tonight would be normal, a fun night with the guys in Buck’s shooting the shit and getting tipsy on whatever was available. For the most part, it was, you’d had enough to drink to feel slightly tipsy, and you’d somehow beaten Two-Bit in a round of pool. But as always, people flooded through the front door. With the crowd came a few women, most of whom had come with a man and stuck clear to their side throughout the night.

One, however, did not. She was pretty, pretty enough for two of the guys to notice her and give her a cunning smile, whistling obscenities that would’ve made anyone unused to their behavior blanch in embarrassment. She simply waved them off, eyes flickering over to Dallas for a moment as she bit at her bottom lip. In his defense, Dallas had been completely focused on keeping score for the current game, seeing as how he had nearly twenty dollars bet on Johnny to win.

You’d seen it, and that was enough in your mind. As soon as her eyes flitted over to you, you gave her a feigned smile, hand immediately moving over the front of Dallas’s jeans where you grabbed him through the denim. His legs jerked closed, eyebrows furrowing in both frustration and irritation as he looked over to you for having scared the shit out of him. The woman looked away, a faint blush painting itself over her features, so you considered yourself victorious.

“The hell you grabbin’ my dick for?” He asked, tone full of disbelief, but soon slipping into soft laughter as he followed your gaze to the woman who now faced the bar. “Jealous? Really?”

You had no defense of your actions, but seeing as how you hadn’t pissed him off you gave him a shrug in response. Your nonchalance on the subject made him roll his eyes, soon returning his attention to the game, although he kept his hand fixed on your upper thigh as he kept score. You’d scooted closer to him on the couch, draping one of your legs over his as you switched your attention between the crowd and the game, soon forgetting all about the woman as the rambunctious nature of the guys picked up once more.

Somehow Dallas’d won nearly thirty bucks off of Johnny, finding himself seriously proud of the kid as he continuously beat everyone around him at pool - even you found yourself amazed, although you found yourself more preoccupied with your current sitting position on Dallas's lap and how his hands held you steady.

After Dallas had collected his winnings he returned his attention to you, circling his arm around your middle as the guys dispersed into the crowd or over to the bar. During the games Dallas’d jerked on the couch, or slipped his hand higher along your thigh whenever it grew tense - so it was safe to say you were painfully horny.

“Can’t believe he won so many times.” He laughed out, snapping you out of your daze. You huffed out a laugh, nodding at his words even though you hadn’t a clue what the man was on about, something he caught onto quickly. “Tunin’ me out?”

“No.” You responded, tone a bit more snippy than you’d meant for. He furrowed his brow, leaning back against the couch with a cocky grin as he patted at your thigh, pulling your attention back to him with a hushed, “You have an attitude.”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have an attitude if you’d do something about it.” You’d huffed out, eyes rolling with your words as you shifted on his lap. Not the smartest thing you’d ever said, but you blamed it on the two drinks you’d had earlier in the night even though they no longer had any bearing on your judgment, but you had to have an excuse, right?

“Excuse me?” Dallas asked through a laugh, hand moving up to cup your chin as he tilted your head back to meet his gaze. “Want to say that again?”

You shook your head, swallowing thickly as your thighs clenched together, all too aroused at the sudden rough nature of Dallas’s actions. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, eyes flitting to where the guys stood against the bar. Within a second he had you up on your feet, hand grasping your waist tightly as he led you to the stairs.

You’d opened your mouth to defend your actions, worried you’d pissed him off, but before you could utter a single word Dallas’d pulled you into his bedroom.

“No.” He grumbled, narrowing his eyes in frustration as he motioned to the floor. “Get on your knees, doll.”

The cold wooden boards bit at your knees through the frayed denim, making you wince inwardly as you settled yourself onto your knees. Despite the pain, you couldn’t help the sheer arousal coursing through your body at the way Dallas was treating you, causing your thighs to clench together as you fumbled with your hands in your lap.

“Expect me to do all the work?” He laughed out, shaking his head as he began unfastening his belt. You quickly moved, pushing his hands away as you undid his belt, tossing the leather to the floor before unbuttoning his jeans. You could feel him straining against the denim, cock twitching with each brush of your hand against the front of his pants.

As you freed his cock from the confines of his boxers he cupped your jaw, eyes softer than they had been previously as his thumb brushed against your lower lip with a whispered, “You want this?”

You nodded, a soft smile upon your lips as you rested your cheek against his touch. He returned your smile, giving your cheek a quick pat before threading his fingers through your hair, giving the strands a gentle tug as his other hand grasped his cock, pressing the tip to your lips. Your eyes fixed on his as you pressed a kiss to his tip, shifting your legs ever so slightly as you took him into your mouth.

The taste of his pre-cum coated your tongue, causing your cunt to ache as you leaned forward on your knees, taking him farther into your mouth as your eyes stayed trained on him. His grip on your hair never faltered, even as his eyelids fluttered at the feeling of your tongue circling his tip. He wanted to see his cock buried in your throat, to see you choke on him.

“Crazy how all that attitude goes away when you’ve got my cock down your throat.” He remarked, tutting afterward as he slowly inched his hips forward, a soft groan emanating from his chest as you struggled to take him deeper. “This what you needed, doll?”

All you could do was blink, eyes watering as your gag reflex instinctively kicked in. He didn’t waver, instead tightening his hold on your hair until your hand tapped against his thigh. As soon as he felt your tap against his thigh he pulled away, a string of your saliva connecting you to his cock as you caught your breath. Ragged breaths filled your lungs as you nodded, letting out a quiet, “Yes.”

He smiled down at you, a proud look on his face as you opened your mouth. He guided himself back to your mouth, slapping his tip against your tongue before pushing forward. You hummed around him, hands held behind yourself as spit dribbled onto your chest. He gave you time to adjust, free hand raising to cup your jaw as he pushed his hips forward.

You choked back your cough as you took him down your throat, tongue laving the underside of his cock before moving to bob your head. He met your movements with eager thrusts of his hips, groans falling past his lips as his pace picked up, all sense of kindness falling away at the feeling of you choking around his cock.

His hold on your hair tightened, using it to control your movements as he continued fucking your mouth, watching in lust-stricken awe as your eyes watered, yet remained focused on him. He could feel his orgasm building, cock twitching against the soft warmth of your tongue as you hollowed your cheeks around him.

“Fuck, fuck-“ He hissed, abruptly pulling out as he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to cum as he listened to the sounds of you desperately catching your breath. With a deep intake of air, he nodded toward the bed, voice rough as he spoke. “C’mon, get on the bed.”

You didn’t have to be told twice, scurrying to your feet as your hand absentmindedly wiped at your mouth and chest. As you moved onto the bed you stripped yourself of your shirt, wiping your throat free of spit and pre-cum before tossing it to the floor. You watched with bated breath as Dallas approached you, cock twitching against his stomach as he turned you over onto your stomach, a groan sounding from within his chest as you immediately arched your back.

He grabbed a pillow from behind you, placing it underneath your hips before moving to remove your jeans and underwear, trailing his fingers along the folds of your cunt once he’d removed both articles of clothing. You pushed back into his touch, cheek pressed to the chilled mattress, craving his warmth. He pushed two of his fingers into you, watching with a smile as you rocked back on his fingers, whining his name into the duvet.

“Look so pretty taking my fingers.” He murmured, tone akin to a condescending coo as he pulled his fingers free, leaving you clenching around nothing. You felt his hands against your hips, pulling you back against him. He swiped his tip along your folds, warm laughter resonating from within his chest at the sheer amount of wetness that covered your cunt, giving you no less than a second to prepare yourself before he bottomed out within you.

The pace was brutal from the start, each thrust pulling a desperate moan from your lungs as you felt your cunt desperately trying to accommodate his size. His hands smoothed up to your waist, fingers still wet with your cum as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. He was big, big enough that you were sure you could feel him in your stomach. With a whimper you reached underneath yourself, pressing your hand against your lower stomach, where sure enough you felt him - each roll of his hips pushing his cock deeper into your waiting cunt.

The added pressure pulled a grunt from him, his head falling back as he took in a shaken breath. He’d thought you were touching yourself for a moment until he noticed how still your hand was. Curiosity got the better of him, causing him to place his hand over yours, feeling himself against his fingers. The feeling almost made him cum right then and there, making him still his hips as he took in another ragged breath.

“You like feeling my cock buried inside of you?” He asked, tone taunting as he jerked his hips forward again, the movement pulling a whimper from you as you nodded. “Made for it, huh? Made to take my cock.”

You could only whine as you nodded, eyes filling with tears at the feeling of his cock brushing against that spot within you that made your thighs shake beneath you. You were utterly fucked out, something that Dallas found hotter than he ever thought possible. As if sensing how mindless you’d become from the feeling of him fucking you, he grabbed at your hips, picking up his pace in a manner that left you breathless.

You were left sobbing into the bedsheets, hands clutching for some reprieve you’d never find as he bullied his cock into you from behind. The pace was brutal, the feeling of his hands on your hips even more so, and yet you could feel your cunt squeezing around him, pulling him deeper within you with each thrust of his hips.

“Cryin’?” He asked, already having known the answer from your sniffled back whines and the way you wiped at your face with the motor skills of an inebriated person. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, bringing his hand down in a harsh slap against the plush skin of your ass as he continued. “Yet you’re squeezin’ me like you’d die without my cock in you.”

The degradation only made you whine more, eyebrows furrowing together as you pushed your hips back against him, meeting his harsh thrusts with sheer desperation you hadn’t known existed until then. He laughed in response, a deep and toying laugh you’d only heard him make a few times throughout your relationship. His hand smoothed up your back, abruptly pushing down against the middle, forcing your chest to be level with the mattress as he kept your hips up to meet his thrusts.

The angle forced the air from your lungs, tightening your cunt around his cock. You could hear him biting back groans, his hands grasping at the soft skin of your hips as he pulled you back to meet his thrusts. You could feel your cum dripping down your inner thighs, each push inward of his cock only forcing more out. All you needed was a bit of friction against your clit and you’d cum, so you snuck your hand between your thighs.

Dallas had picked up on the subtle movement, hand immediately snatching yours by the wrist to pin it against your lower back. You cried out in frustration, but you weren’t frustrated enough to move away from his cock. He let out a condescending “awe,” jerking his hips forward in a manner that all but bruised your cervix.

“Think you can cum after bein’ a brat?” He grunted out, laughter fueled by disbelief falling from his lips as he continued fucking you. You nodded, pleasure-fueled tears falling past your eyes as you struggled against his hold, needing to touch yourself so badly that it hurt. “Gotta earn it, doll.”

You didn’t argue, knowing any form of rebuttal would only garner further frustration on your part. You pushed your hips back, pressing your face against your forearm as you whined against your damp flesh, the slick sound of you fucking yourself back into his cock echoing throughout the room, paired with his self-satisfied laughter as he grabbed onto your hip with his free hand.

The pleasure was nearly blinding, just enough to have you careening on the edge as his tip brushed against your g-spot with each perfect roll of his hips. He wasn’t mean enough to make you do all of the work, but he was mean enough to watch you whimper into your arm with a smile on his face as you struggled to keep up with his pace.

You reached down between your legs, fingers splaying against the underside of his cock each time he’d pull out, earning you a cut-off groan as his hand released your wrist in favor of holding onto the curvature of your waist. You could feel each vein beneath the pads of your fingers, slick with your fluids.

“C’mon, doll.” He grunted out, voice hoarse from self-restraint. “Touch yourself, cum with me.”

You nodded against the bedspread, tears partially blinding you as you moved your hand to your clit, swirling your fingers around the slick and hardened bud as he fucked himself into you. You didn’t need much friction to build your orgasm, having already teetered on the edge for the better part of twenty minutes. As soon as your fingers circled your clit you were left sobbing into the mattress, cunt spasming around his length as he thrusted into you, his hands tightened their hold as he grunted out words of praise that were lost on your pleasure-ridden mind.

You’d hardly had a moment to catch your breath before he bent over your slumped form, looping his forearm around your neck before leaning back up, all but impaling you on his cock as he resumed his brutal pace. You let your head fall back against his shoulder, babbled out whines falling from your lips as you held onto his forearm, letting him use you.

The closer he got to his orgasm the tighter his hold got, his lips pressed against your temple as he grunted out words, each praise and degradation going straight to your still oversensitive cunt. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, air becoming harder to take in as his hold around your throat tightened.

“So fucking tight, doll.” He grunted, a low groan of your name following as his hips jerked forward, warmth following the thrust as he painted your cunt white with his cum. You whimpered at the feeling, noise in tandem with another moan on his part as he wrapped an arm around your middle, letting the one around your throat fall to his side. You sagged against him, taking in a ragged breath as his cock twitched within you.

“Hey-“ He started, lifting his hand to tilt your jaw back, meeting your bleary gaze with nothing but care in his. “You alright?”

You nodded, wetting your lips as you continued to slow your breathing, heart still pumping wildly within your chest. He gave you a short nod, pressing a kiss to your temple as his hand smoothed over your stomach, still buried to the hilt inside of your cunt.

He shifted behind you then, a quiet curse falling from his lips as he pulled out of you. You let yourself slump forward against the mattress, bottom half a complete mess of cum and sweat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care with the sheer amount of post-coital ecstasy flowing through your veins. You hadn’t even noticed that he’d gotten off his bed until he returned with a towel, delicately wiping between your thighs before wiping himself off, tossing the dirtied fabric to a far corner of the room before moving back onto the bed beside you.

“C’mon, doll.” He whispered, the tone so gentle your muddled mind could hardly perceive it until his arms wrapped around your middle, pulling your back flush to his chest as he helped you to get comfortable. “Did so good, real proud of you.”

You could only hum in response, shifting your hips as he pulled the covers over the both of you. Thankfully you’d somehow pushed the plush duvet off the mattress during the whole ordeal, leaving you both with a thin white sheet that felt more cool than anything, a genuine blessing against your still-hot skin.

“Did I fuck you quiet?” Dallas asked through a laugh, words immediately snapping you awake as you turned halfway to give him a half-hearted frown. He returned the look, clearly mocking you before leaning up to press a kiss to your forehead. “Messin’ with you, doll. I don’t think anything could make you shut up.”

“Dallas!” You laughed out in disbelief, swatting at his forearm as he chuckled behind you, absolutely pleased with himself for his joke. “Not funny!”

He relented, pressing a kiss to the back of your neck as you settled back down in his arms. You’d let your eyes flutter shut, content with the feeling of him holding you so securely to his chest, his soft breaths lulling you to sleep, only to feel him stifle a laugh.

“It is funny.”

A/N: This one is LONG. But I hope you guys like it! I honestly don’t mind writing rough stuff, I’ve read and written enough of it in the past that I might as well write it for Dallas hehehe. As always, thank you for the love you guys have shown my work! Any requests feel free to ask them and I promise I will get to them! You can find all my works over on my AO3 account, “Unscriptural.”

[ravenromanova]

I fucking hate you

Parings: Bucky x Female avenger reader

Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Mean Bucky (only for a little). SMUTTTTT DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18+! Daddy kink, Metal arm kink, Praise kink, Hate fucking, Breeding kink, Unprotected sex, Oral (m and f), Fingering. DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE

Summary: When you and Bucky are forced to have a therapy session after a mission gone wrong you two find another way to let the anger out.

Kinktober masterlist - Main masterlist - Send me requests!!!!

~

The sound of the clock ticking mixed with a pen tapping against a notebook drives you insane as you stare at the wall. It’s been thirty minutes of silence with neither you or Bucky daring to speak first. In your eyes this session was pointless. He was the one who fucked up the mission and yet youre paying for it by having a therapy session with him.

The mission was a simple intel mission… or it should’ve been until Bucky went off the rails and got the both of you captured. Luckily you were able to get yourselves freed before anything bad happened. But nevertheless you were told by Fury and Maria that you two needed to fix the issues between you. Honestly you didn’t hate Bucky as much as you led on but he could be such an insufferable asshole sometimes.

He would constantly pick on you like a small child, belittle your powers and abilities, and not to mention he would constantly ditch you during missions. So since he wanted to be an asshole you decided that being a petty bitch would get him to stop… You were very wrong and that just seemed to make it worse for you.

All in all you were completely infatuated with the super soldier but it was clear he had no interest in you. So you kept up the petty bitch act and that just meant the two of you were constantly at war with one another.

“This is a waste of time, It wasnt even my fault the mission got fucked up so im not even sure why im here.” You state crossing your arms looking at Dr.Raynor.

“The reason youre here y/n is so you and James can work through whatever it is going on in hopes that you two start getting along” The older woman says with a slight shake to her head.

“I wouldn’t have a problem with him if he wasnt such a dick” Your words made Bucky whip his head to look at you with a scowl on his face.

“Oh im the asshole? What about you huh? You’re a fucking pest and not to mention the weakest one on the team” He scoffed looking back at raynor.

“THE WEAKEST ONE? The only thing special about you came from a fucking test tube” You retort feeling yourself about to explode from rage.

“Oh so that’s how we are gonna play this?” He asked cocking his head to the side with a smug smile.

“You act like youre tough shit when in all reality take off the arm and take away the serum then what are you? A amputee with a military background.. You aren’t that special” Your words hit a part of him he didn’t know existed anymore.

“Okay enough you two!” Dr.Raynor said before Bucky had the chance to respond. “This is ridiculous! Throwing insults back and forth wont help whatever is going on between you two” She continued and you and Bucky huffed.

“It definitely makes me feel better knowing miss priss over here gets knocked down a few pegs” He mumbles under his breath.

“Okay that’s it! I’m fucking done. I cant do this shit anymore. You wanna hate me? fine. Guess what? I fucking hate you too” You said standing up abruptly and slamming the door as you exit the room.

Bucky and Dr.Raynor both looked at each other and sighed. “Why cant you just be honest with her?” She asked him making him roll his eyes.

“I dont know what youre talking about” He shakes his head making the older woman groan.

“Dont play dumb James. We both know how you feel about y/n you are just to chicken shit to tell her” She retorts raising her eyebrows at the solider.

“You’re a terrible therapist” He retorts shaking his head at her comment. Yes Bucky was madly in love with you but he didn’t think you’d feel the same after his past and how he’s treated you.

Ever since Bucky had come back from being blipped he found it difficult to readjust to life yet again. So he did what he always did he threw himself into his work. Avenging became the only thing he did day in and day out. He had met you during a meeting when you were introduced as the newest Avenger. You were all bright and bubbly towards everyone even him.

Naturally he avoided you not wanting to taint the sunshine that shined from within. But despite him being a dick to you, you still smiled at him during training, said good morning whenever you saw him in the mornings. You were just always sweet to him for some reason even though he had never shown you kindness. Well that was until six months ago when one day you were just as bitchy to him as he was you.

For some reason that hurt Bucky more than he thought possible. He didn’t think he would miss your sunshiny attitude until it was gone. The two of you started fighting amend arguing over everything for the past six months. The entire team was annoyed by the sudden escalation in you and Bucky’s relationship. Normally he would just be cold to you and that was it. But now you’ve started fighting back which was a surprise to everyone since you were normally so quiet. Bucky missed the ray of sunshine you used to be but he also didn’t want to taint you with his presence.

But nevertheless Bucky kept up his whole thing of messing with you and you started being bitchy right back, which was why the two of you were forced into therapy together.

“Go tell her how you feel James, That’s youre homework for the week” Dr.Raynor said breaking Bucky out of his thoughts.

“And if i dont?” He pushed tilting his head. The woman looked at him then sighed.

“If you dont ill make sure you and Peter are assigned on the same missions for six months” She threatened and Bucky’s eyes widened at the thought of being stuck with parker on missions.

“Okay okay no need to do all that” He said standing up and putting his hands up in defeat. The older woman laughed to herself as she watched Bucky walk out her office.

Bucky had left the office to go and find you but had no luck. He had looked for you in all of your normal spots kitchen, living room, game room, your room but you weren’t there. It wasnt until he decided to check the training room that he had found you. You were at the punching bags hitting them as hard as you could to get out your anger.

“Y/n?” He said softly as he approached you carefully not wanting to startle you. You had turned around to face him with your chest heaving and your face sweaty.

“What Bucky?” Your voice dripped with venom as you spoke. Bucky had ran his hand through his hair sighing a little.

“Look i just wanted to say im sorry” He said and you looked for any hints of sarcasm or anything in his eyes but found none.

“I’m sorry im gonna need you to repeat that” You brought a hand to your ear acting like you didn’t hear him.

“I’m sorry for being an asshole. I never meant to hurt youre feelings doll” Bucky repeated but this time adding in a nickname that made your heart race.

“i-its okay” You stutter out not really fathoming the fact that Bucky is apologizing or that fact that he used a nickname to address you instead of an insult.

“No its not- i-i just dont know how to handle my emotions properly and i took it out on you when i shouldn’t have” His hands didn’t their way to your hips as he speaks. Your eyes go to his wands on your waist and then back up to him.

“It’s okay Bucky i get it” You say as your hands find their way to his shoulders. Bucky’s flesh hand moved to cup your face as he looked into your eyes making you melt. He slowly rubs his thumb against your cheek making you smile and lean into his touch.

“Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?” The question comes out shaky when you speak.

“Because it wasnt until you said that you hated me that i realized i fucked up and treated the one person who has never looked at me like a monster like shit. And i couldn’t stand the thought of you hating me.” He said honestly and for the first time you could see genuine emotion in his eyes.

“And whys that?” You ask stepping a little closer to him with a small smile.

“Because im in love with you” Bucky admits bringing you into a passionate kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss earning a small groan from him. The two of you get so wrapped up in each other you forget to come up for air.

“I-I love you too” You admit after you catch your breath making him smile. Bucky then picks you up and you wrap your legs around his waist. He then carries you out of the training room and takes you to his.

When he brings you back to his room he lays you down on the bed before getting on top of you. He slots himself between your legs as he brings you in for another heated kiss. You moan into the kiss as you feel his hands roam all over your body. Bucky’s hands find the hem of your shorts and pull them down your thighs not breaking the kiss.

“Please” You whisper against his lips feeling his metal hand graze your dripping core. He sits on his knees and takes off you shirt then bra before sucking on your nipple. You throw your head back in pleasure letting out a moan.

“Oh fuck” Bucky takes his metal hand and finds his way in your panties and starts playing with your clit. “Yes daddy” You whimper breathlessly feeling the cool metal come into contact with your heat.

“Oh you like that kotenok?’ He asks after he releases your nipple with a pop. You nod your head and whisper a ‘Yes’ and start bucking your hips against his hand.

“Please please fuck me” You beg moving your hand down to his clothed crotch.

“So needy” He mocks unbuckling his belt and drops his pants on the floor before taking off his boxers and shirt. Once he’s fully naked in front of you, you cant help but stare at his reddened cock standing at attention for you.

You sit up so you come face to face with the red tip and wrap your hand around the base of his cock. His eyes go wide and his breath catches in his throat when you lick the pre cum off his slit.

“So good” You whisper before you hollow out your cheeks and take him into your mouth. His hands instantly find their way into your hair trying to resist fucking your throat. You tap his thigh letting him know he can use you as he pleases.

Bucky then grips onto your hair tighter and starts to thrust into your throat. “Fuck kotenok” He whines feeling your tongue graze the vein of his cock. You open your throat as much as you can so you can fully take him and sink down to the base of his cock.

“Fuck- i-im gonna cum if you keep doing that” He grunts feeling your throat open and close around him. His thrusts gets sloppy as he feels himself about to finish. He abruptly stops thrusting and pulls himself out of your throat making you whine.

“As much as id love to make you swallow id much rather breed that pretty pussy” Bucky says wiping the drool off your chin making you nod your head. You quickly get on all fours in front of him and wiggle your ass making him smack it.

“Yes daddy” You moan in delight feeling his metal hand come into contact with your soft skin. Bucky smirks and smacks the other cheek making you moan happily.

“You like that baby?” He coos rubbing the red marks he’s left making you shiver.

“Mhm” You nod backing your ass up against his cock. He takes the sign and slowly eases himself into you before bottoming out.

“So tight” He groans pulling out then thrusting back in. You scream in delight feeling his thick cock stretch you out. You weren’t a virgin in the slightest but Bucky had definitely been the biggest you’d ever taken.

“S-So big daddy” The words come out broken as you feel his tip kiss your g-spot.

“You can take it baby. Take daddy’s cock be a good girl and take it so i can fill you up. Would you like that? Do you want me to breed you and make you a mommy?” He asks wrapping his metal arm around your neck bringing you up to get a new angle.

“OH FUCK YES” You scream at the new angle feeling him in a new way. The thought of Bucky breeding you makes your eyes roll back and your brain go fuzzy. “Please-please fill me up daddy” You bed as his thrusts get harder.

“Oh i will kotenok dont worry” He says squeezing his hand a little around your neck. You never thought in a million years you’d have all your fantasies come true but fuck were you loving it.

“G-Gonna cum daddy… can i cum?” The question is choked out making Bucky smile.

“Yes baby cum for me im right behind you” He said and that’s when the coil in your stomach snapped and you came all over him. Feeling your warm walls clench down on him sent him over the edge, and he wrapped his flesh at around your stomach holding you close as he came. Bucky’s thrusts slowed down as he fucked his cum into you ensuring none would leak out.

“Fuck baby” He groaned in your ear giving you kisses up and down your neck and collarbone. “You did so good kotenok” Bucky praised slowly pulling out but still holding you close. Once he pulled out he laid you against the pillows and settled in between your legs again.

“T-Thank you daddy” You said in a fucked out haze trying to catch your breath. Bucky kisses from your chest down to your thighs and then settles his face in front of your pussy. He spreads your wet folds with his flesh hand before leaving a kiss on your clit.

‘Too sensitive daddy-cant-please-“ You protest trying to close your thighs but failing as he holds them apart.

“Just wanna taste you baby” He whispers giving your thigh a kiss. Not trusting your voice you opt your nodding and letting him do what he wants.

He slowly licks a stipe from your hole to clit making you whimper and cry out. Bucky groans at the way you taste and starts eating you like a man starved. His lips wrap around you clit and starts sucking lightly making you claw at his back.

“Yes yes yes” You chant feeling another orgasm about to rip through you. He picks up the pace and starts sloppily eating your pussy making you feel like never before.

“Gonna cum!” You scream arching your back off his bed and gripping the sheets as you finish on his tongue. Bucky groans in satisfaction and licks you clean before bringing you into a messy kiss.

“So fucking good” He praised after he broke the kiss. You smiled at him and feel back against the pillows in a haze. You felt the bed dip and you saw Bucky walk into the bathroom and grab a wet cloth. He came back to the bed and cleaned you up while telling you how good you did.

“You’re so perfect” He whispered in your ear laying down next to you. You crawled over to him and laid your head on his chest looking up at his pretty blue eyes.

“Not too bad yourself” Bucky laughed at your comment bringing you in for a loving kiss. “I could get used to that” You said with a cheeky grin on your face making him roll his eyes in faux annoyance.

“You better because now youre stuck with me” He said giving you a wink. The thought if being ‘stuck’ with him gave you butterflies and make you melt even more into hin.

“I think id be okay with that” You said pretending to think about it making Bucky laugh. He ran his hand through your hair and admired your beauty. In all of his 106 years on this earth he never thought he felt this way about someone. That was until you.. And he’ll be damned if he ever lets you get away again.

~The end~

I do not give permission for my work to be copied or translated on other cites

[thriftedtchotchkes]

the way we fight

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: you and joel love taking your frustrations out on each other—in more ways than one

warnings: 18+ MDNI, language, drug use, canon-typical violence, slight spoilers for minor tlou 2 cutscene, jackson era, enemies to lovers, undefined age gap, sloooow buildup, smut, grinding, rough oral (male & female receiving)

word count: 6.7k

a/n: no idea how this got so long, but here we are! generally my fics are based on song lyrics, so this one goes out to my girl ari and social house. this honestly took a while to wrap my brain around and idk how the end got so filthy but alas, i really hope y'all enjoy! as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated 💕

It’s always an argument with him. He’s just so stubborn. Actually, Joel Miller might be the most stubborn man you’ve ever met. There’s never any room for disagreement or discussion with him—it’s his way or the highway. Half the time, you don’t even know what you’re fighting about, hurling callous, empty words at each other as if they don’t hurt. Immensely.

Maybe you really do genuinely hate each other. Or maybe it’s just for the fun of it.

It’s been like this for as long as you’ve known him, which, in hindsight, hasn’t even been that long. Probably a year? Year and a half? In all that time, you’ve never managed to crack his tough exterior and, as far as you know, no one else has, either.

The only things anyone knows for sure are that he’s Tommy Miller’s older brother and he’s got a daughter named Ellie. He hasn’t made a lot of friends here and it’s not hard to see why. He’s mean in a surly old man kind of way and rarely has anything nice to say to anyone—if he says anything at all.

Yet, somehow you still find yourself spending the majority of your time with him. It’s not something you do by choice. It’s a forced proximity thing.

You can’t tell if Tommy schedules you for patrols together because you’re the only one who hasn’t kicked up a stink about it or if he just thinks it’s funny to watch you both squirm. Most of the town thinks it’s hilarious, so you can only guess it’s the latter.

During your first few outings together, Joel wouldn’t talk to you unless it was absolutely necessary, and, even then, all you’d get was a grunt or some grumbled instructions. The silence got old pretty quickly. It wasn’t until you made your first mistake out in the field that he finally started communicating. Maybe a little louder than you’d hoped.

Now, Joel will pick a fight anywhere, usually over the dumbest shit. But his bark is worse than his bite—most of the time, at least.

On his worst days, his anger is explosive and it seems like he takes it out exclusively on you. It’s honestly a little ridiculous that you haven’t just asked Tommy to take you off his patrols already, but there’s a part of you that’ll never admit you actually kind of like your dynamic.

Not a lot happens in Jackson—it’s well-protected and even the community drama gets a little stale. Joel might be a dick, but he keeps things interesting, keeps you on your toes.

And it’s hard to ignore the fire in his eyes that makes you think he likes it just as much as you do.

It’s fucking freezing out and you haven’t even left for patrol yet before Joel’s muttering something condescending under his breath. Surprise, surprise—he’s in a bad mood and about to make it your problem. You throw him an unimpressed look over your shoulder, the best you can muster this early in the morning, and continue to saddle your horse.

“You wanna say that a little louder, Miller?”

He looks tired and annoyed and, god, you haven’t been awake nearly long enough for this shit. Today’s going to be trying enough as it is. You were assigned one of the longer routes and the clouds are already dark with the promise of rain or worse.

There are a few other patrol groups nearby gearing up to leave and their preparations suddenly slow, eyes darting between the two of you as if they can sense the impending argument. You barely notice their loitering, the small crowd inching forward to not-so-subtly eavesdrop.

“No, really, I’d love to hear to hear what you have to say,” you taunt him, hands settling on your hips. “Y’know, it’s really not like you to keep things to yourself. You sure you’re feeling alright today, old man?”

“Feelin’ just fine, sweetheart,” he grits through his teeth, rolling his eyes. “Just hurry your ass up so we can get this over and done with. I’m not tryin’ to spend any more time with ya than I have to.”

You quirk an eyebrow. Sweetheart? That’s a new one. It sounded sarcastic as hell and a little patronizing but, still, that’s not something Joel’s ever called you before. Useless and annoying, sure, but never sweetheart.

Your stomach swoops, but you force yourself to ignore it; that’s not even remotely something you want to analyze today.

“Uh, yeah…whatever,” you eye him strangely, and he abruptly looks away, shifting his focus back to checking his saddlebags. It’s like he’s purposefully avoiding your gaze, and it’s weird. He’s acting so fucking weird today.

Sparing him one last glance, you throw a leg over your horse and start toward the gate at a slow trot. You don’t bother waiting for him to catch up.

“What’s our first checkpoint?” you call over your shoulder, but he’s somehow already right behind you, his horse falling in line with yours.

“You should already know that,” Joel sighs, brow furrowed in what you can only assume is irritation. Oh, here it comes—the inevitable lecture. He does this every single time you're on patrol, whether you’ve done something wrong or not. You must’ve really pissed him off if you’re hearing it this early.

Except—he’s not berating you. Instead, he pulls a map out of his backpack. “Alright, look,” he says, leaning in closer so you can see. “This is us right here, and—,” his index finger traces a route from Jackson, winding along a road that passes through a small neighborhood, and lands on your first stop, located a few side streets off a main road, “—we should end up here in about an hour if the weather holds up.”

Nodding, you look up at him. You hadn't realized how close his face had gotten to yours, and your lips part around an involuntary gasp. His eyes drop to your mouth for a second too long before he pulls away, folding up his map and tucking it back into his pack.

You try to convince yourself that you imagined it, that Joel Miller would never intentionally look at your lips like he wants to kiss you, but you can still feel his warm breath on your skin and it’s affecting you more than you want to admit.

This is…not at all like your normal dynamic and it’s throwing you off. Joel hasn’t raised his voice once today and, at most, he’s only made a few snide remarks that weren’t nearly as bad as they usually are.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you breathe out, creating a tiny puff of condensation in the air. “It doesn’t even feel like it's cold enough to snow, anyway. The worst we’ll probably get is some rain and we’ve ridden in way worse than that.”

All you get in response is a low grunt, and then he’s lifting the reins, leading his horse in the direction of your first checkpoint. You sigh. Guess you’re back to square one. You never thought you’d miss your spats, and can’t help but wonder what the hell happened to make him change his behavior so radically.

“Seriously, though, are you okay? You’re, like, really quiet today,” you prod, and his whole body tenses. He turns to you, expression angry, and it sends a shiver down your spine. There he is.

“Didn’t I already fuckin’ tell you I’m fine? What, you suddenly lose the ability to hear or somethin’?” He shakes his head in annoyance, and you’re glad he’s not looking at you anymore because you can’t suppress the grin that spreads across your face.

“This girl, I swear,” you hear him mutter as he trots away.

You don’t say anything to each other for the rest of the ride to the checkpoint. The crumbling attorney's office is basically the same as you remember from the last time you were here. It’s old, obviously, and musty, but it’s stocked with random provisions, like food and ammo, so patrol crews can replenish their supplies before heading out to their next destination.

There’s also a killer view of Jackson from one of the windows, and you get distracted looking out at the lights and mountains in the distance. It’s starting to flurry, so you drop your backpack on the floor and stick both hands out to catch some of the snowflakes in your palms. So much for rain.

“You dilly dallyin’ again? Just sign the logbook already so we can move the fuck on,” Joel’s voice startles you out of your reverie. Huffing, you turn away from the window, looking for the pen that’s supposed to be next to the notebook, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“You know what, asshole, you could’ve just as easily signed the damn thing yourself. You were there too, or are you getting forgetful in your old age?” you shoot back as you hunch down, getting on your hands and knees to search under the desk. You hear him scoff behind you.

You spot the pen towards the back, because of course it rolled that far, and bend down so you can reach out a little farther. Your fingers brush one end and then you’ve got it, sitting back up with your prize in hand. Looking over your shoulder, you just barely catch Joel’s eyes darting away from where you were a moment ago, basically puppy-posing on the floor. That’s…suspicious.

“The fuck? Were you just staring at my ass?” you ask incredulously. There’s no goddamn way. He snorts, arms crossed with an uncharacteristic smirk on his face, and you raise an eyebrow at him.

“You wish, sweetheart,” he says condescendingly, and there it is again. That fucking word. So, he’s calling you pet names and staring at your ass now? There’s something seriously off about him today and you want to know what his deal is.

“You wanna tell me why you keep calling me that? You’ve been acting weird as fuck all day and it’s giving me whiplash,” you glower at him, taking a seat at the edge of the desk and forgetting all about the logbook. He shrugs.

“Dunno what you’re talkin’ about,” he says simply, and you squint at him.

“Seriously, Joel? You've called me sweetheart twice today and now you’re checking me out,” you hop off the desk and walk over to where he’s leaning against the wall. “If I didn’t know any better…,” you glance down at his lips, moving closer, “I’d say you were flirting with me."

Well, that made him angry. "Fuck you,” he growls in your face, and his lips are soft where they accidentally graze your cupid's bow. He’s trembling now, fists clenched at his sides, and you think he’s about to push you away when he grabs you by the hips and shoves you against the wall. Your head lolls back and you laugh cruelly.

“Yeah, Joel,” you roll your hips into his and he grits his teeth, tightening his grip. “I think that’s exactly what you wanna do.”

But before you can go any further, there’s a crash just outside the door accompanied by a familiar sound that turns your blood to ice.

It’s unmistakable. The clicking, guttural and stuttered, is followed by a high-pitched shriek that echoes throughout the small space, and you both freeze. You look up at Joel, terrified, and he raises a finger to his lips, eyes telling you to be quiet or else.

There’s no way either of you can unholster your guns—and reload, in your case—without alerting it to your position. Joel reaches for the hunting knife strapped to his thigh, and you move to do the same, only to realize it isn't there.

Fuck, it has to be somewhere. Probably in one of the dozen random holsters you have attached to you right now.

Frantic, you pat at your sides and legs—anywhere it could be—as your panicked intakes of breath gradually increase in volume. A hand slaps over your mouth, and suddenly Joel is crushing your body against the wall, halting your movements.

"Quit," he whispers harshly, lips brushing the shell of your ear, and you nod quickly.

The creature abruptly changes course, jerking toward the open window, and that’s when you notice something familiar by its feet. It's—fuck, it's your backpack. And your knife is gleaming from where it sits, nestled in one of the side pockets.

Stupid, that was so stupid. If, by some miracle, this thing doesn't kill you, there’s no doubt Joel will once he realizes your mistake. His hand drops from your mouth and he glances back over his shoulder at the clicker, gripping his knife a little tighter.

He looks resolute, and it dawns on you that he’s about to make a move. It takes everything you’ve got not to grab onto his coat and pull him back to you as he slowly shifts away, but then something else stops him in his tracks.

Another screech rings out from the other side of the room, and now you know you’re fucked. There’s only one option left now. Either you run, or you get torn apart. He reaches down to take your hand in his, warring emotions of anger and fear in his eyes as he looks into yours, and squeezes; it’s now or never.

The path to the doorway you came through is somehow miraculously clear, and Joel takes off at a sprint, dragging you with him but, to his horror, you decide to do yet another stupid thing.

For reasons you can’t explain, you find yourself ripping your hand out of his, swerving to snatch your backpack from where it lies just a few feet from the clicker.

Joel is yelling, or at least you think he is, and you vaguely feel his blunt nails scratch the back of your hand as he reaches out to stop you, but he can’t. You’re moving on autopilot, can barely register your body moving at all, until your fingertips skim the strap of your pack and the clicker is shrieking in your face.

You don’t think you’ve ever been this close to one before, even dead, and it’s worse than you could’ve ever imagined. The world freezes for a moment and you freeze with it, unable to move or look away from the fungus erupting from its skull, teeth gnashing inches away from your throat.

And then you feel warmth—warm, strong arms wrap around your waist and tug harder and harder until you’re back out in the cold. Joel spots his horse a short distance away, likely spooked by the commotion, but you can’t see much farther than that. What was a gentle flurry less than a half hour ago has become a violent blizzard, and you’re both getting pelted by ice that burns as it scrapes across your skin.

There’s one horse—just Joel’s horse—but there’s no time to think about the fate of your own before his hands are on your hips, lifting you up and into the saddle, and he’s climbing on in front of you.

He urges his horse forward and you’re off without so much as a glance behind you, galloping away from danger and down a street that you realize you actually recognize.

“Joel,” you squeeze his waist and he ignores you. He’s shaking and it’s definitely not just from the cold. You can feel the anger radiating off of him in waves and it’s warranted. You fucked up big time. “Joel, turn right,” you say a little louder, and he’s still not listening. “Turn right! There’s a library up ahead, you have to turn now!”

He growls, and you think he’s purposely going to miss the turn until he’s yanking the reins to the right, nearly throwing you both off the horse.

“You better know what the fuck you’re doin’,” he all but shouts back, and you wrap your arms around his waist a little tighter.

“It’s safe!” you yell, struggling to speak loud enough for him to hear you over the wind. “Ellie’s been there before, loads of times, and she says it’s safe. “

And that’s all it takes to convince him.

The library’s completely boarded up and, with the wind howling against your backs, it takes more than a few hard tugs to yank enough of them off to get inside the lobby with Joel’s horse.

He hands you the reins before moving into the next room, crouching along the rows of aging books and knocked-over bookcases, and you peek in, watching him anxiously. Cracked bricks litter the ground, and he steps over a few as he crouches into place behind a broken book cart.

He picks one up and then shoots you a look, eyebrows lifting pointedly, and you realize he wants you to get back into the lobby, out of sight. You duck behind the wall, placing a soothing hand on his horse right as you hear the sound of the brick shattering against the ground, and wait. A few agonizing seconds pass before you hear him throw one more a little farther out, just to be sure.

When nothing startles or jumps out, Joel whistles and you know that’s your cue to come out from your hiding spot. Normally, that would piss you off immensely, him whistling for you like you’re a fucking animal, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.

You’re exhausted now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, and the only thing you want to do is curl up into one of the torn-up chairs in the corner and pass out until morning. But that’s not what Joel has in mind.

“Y’think you’re off the hook for the shit you pulled earlier?”

You sigh, head tipping back and thumping against the bookcase behind you. “Do we have to do this right now? Joel, I’m tired and hungry, and fucking cold, and I really don’t have the energy.”

“Seriously? Sure looked like ya had the energy when you were runnin’ straight into that clicker’s mouth,” he scowls, reaching down to grab something next to the book cart and throwing it at your feet. “Thought ya might want this back since you apparently decided it was worth more than your life.”

You inhale sharply through your nose, eyebrows pinching together. Joel…he—

It's your backpack.

You were so sure it got left behind when he saved you from that clicker and yet, there it is. You lean over to pick it up, but Joel kicks it out of reach before you get the chance. He looks livid and now, you realize, you’re about to get that lecture you dodged earlier tenfold.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Me? I'm not the one having an identity crisis! You’ve been nothing but distracting all damn day,” you scoff bitterly. “None of this would've happened if you hadn't had a complete personality makeover overnight.”

You can’t believe he…is he serious? There’s no way you’re taking the fall for this, not all of it. Yeah, you fucked up with the backpack, but Joel isn't entirely blameless, either. If you hadn’t been fighting again, you would’ve just signed the stupid logbook and moved on like you were supposed to.

"Yeah, alright, sweetheart. It's my fault you almost got us both killed. Maybe you’re forgettin’ I saved your goddamn life back there, somethin' I wouldn't have had to do if you hadn't gone and done something so fuckin’ stupid."

Sweetheart.

"Stop calling me that! I…fuck, Joel, I just don't get you. I get it—I know I fucked up, but…,” your voice cracks and you can feel your lower lip wobbling, but you can’t let yourself cry. That would only prove to Joel what he already knows—you’re weak. “I’m sorry, okay? What more do you want from me?”

He chuckles mirthlessly. “You really wanna know what I want from ya?” He crowds your space, leaning in slightly. His head tilts like he's going to kiss you, and your breath hitches. “I want ya to get your shit together and stop makin’ unnecessary mistakes,” he says cruelly instead.

Your jaw drops.

"No, you know what? Fuck this,” you seethe. “When we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to never put me on your patrols again. I can’t do this anymore.”

“Think I give a shit about that? Go ahead, you’d be doin’ me a favor!” he yells at your back as you storm away, and you flip him off over your shoulder. Behind you, he sighs heavily, sounding as worn out and frustrated as you feel.

What a load of bullshit. You don't deserve to be treated like this. There's a stark difference between the inconsequential arguments you normally have and whatever the hell that was.

And the worst part? It hurts so much more than you expected it to. Leave it to you to get attached to the asshole whose personal mission it is to make you miserable. This whole thing was fun while it lasted, but you meant what you said. You and Joel, it’s over.

You exhale wetly, tears still threatening to fall as you leave him behind in what the yellowing signs tell you is the romance section. Well, isn’t that ironic.

You quickly realize navigating the library in the dark is more difficult than you anticipated, even with your flashlight. Not even ten steps away from where you started, you trip over something protruding from the ground and almost land flat on your face.

Joel comes running over as you let out a frustrated noise and push yourself up onto your knees. His knife is at the ready like he was expecting danger but, no, it’s just you humiliating yourself even further. He lets out a relieved sigh, holstering his knife, but then just stands there glaring down at you.

“I’m fine, by the way,” you wave a hand from the ground. He shakes his head, reaching down to help you up, and his hand feels so nice in yours—big, strong, and calloused.

You curse yourself for still thinking about him like that, like anything at all, but you can't help it. And when his hand drops yours, it feels distinctly cold and empty.

Shaking it off, you aim your flashlight at the offending spot on the floor. “What is that, anyway?” you ask Joel as he crouches down to brush away some of the dirt and debris.

“A handle,” he mumbles, pulling out his knife again and digging it into a crack in the floor, tracing around what looks like…a door?

“Is that a trapdoor?” You lean over his shoulder to get a better look. He looks back at you and nods, looking a little less angry and a lot more concerned. “Well, should we check it out?”

Instead of answering you, he wrenches the door open and shines his flashlight into the opening. There’s a ladder leading down and you can hear something rumbling below that sounds like a generator.

“Stay here,” he eyes you sternly as he begins his descent down the ladder.

“Uh, yeah, that’s not happening,” you scoff, following him. The ladder’s longer than you expected, and once your feet touch the ground, you reach out to run your hands along the wall, searching for a light switch.

A few moments later, your fingers come across something vaguely switch-like and you flip it, a warm glow filling the room, emanating from about a dozen heat lamps hanging from the ceiling. Your eyes adjust and—

“No fucking way.”

Joel is silent beside you, and you glance over, his expression just as stunned as yours is. You step closer. “Is that…?”

“Weed,” he breathes out.

You didn’t mean to get this high. Really, you didn’t. But you're in a fucking grow room hidden beneath a library in some tiny, backwater town, and you almost just died. So really, what reason was there not to?

The blizzard’s still going strong outside and, at the very least, it’s nice and warm down here. There's also the added bonus of something fun to do while you wait it out.

…Yeahhh, so you might’ve found a mason jar full of already rolled joints between some couch cushions, literally just sitting there for the taking. What were you supposed to do? Not smoke them?

But what surprises you even more than the pot itself is that Joel is smoking it, too.

It’s cute how he coughs after every drag, eyes watering as you pass a joint back and forth. The air is thick with smoke and a strange tension that neither of you can really describe, but you’re not fighting anymore. Not yet, at least.

The couch you're sitting on is cozy and less tattered than the chairs upstairs, so you settle there for the night, sitting closer than you ever willingly have before. Enough time has passed that you’re beginning to realize neither of you plans on moving, either. That you’re actually enjoying each other’s company.

The warmth of him seeps pleasantly through your clothes, and he feels so solid and real against you. Unconsciously, you melt into his side, your fuzzy brain chemicals urging you to feel more, more of him, and he tenses only for a moment before lifting an arm to rest behind you on the back of the couch.

It's strange how readily he's accepting your touch now. With each drag, you feel a little braver and press more of your body into his, draping your legs across his lap and nesting your head in the crook of his neck. He goes boneless when you mouth damply at the skin just below his jaw, his throat rumbling under your lips as he lets out a ragged breath.

You’ve both loosened up so much since earlier. It’s an easy, comfortable sort of peace you’ve found down here, even after the horrors you experienced earlier in the day. Part of you wishes it could always be like this with Joel but, then again, that just wouldn’t be you and Joel.

Your relationship thrives on the way you fight, almost like you can’t exist together without the promise of battle. So, when the high wears off and the world feels less lazy and more dire, you’ll both remember with sharp clarity that you hate each other. The memories will fade away and the war will continue. That’s just how it is.

It’s a little sad when you think about it, but for at least a little while longer, you’ll still have this version of you and Joel. You’ll enjoy the way he feels pressed up against your body; the way he feels pliant and suggestible under your lips.

And you’ll ask the question that’s been eating away at you all day because right now, you’re positive your lips can convince him to do anything.

“Tell me why you keep calling me sweetheart,” you murmur against his skin. He freezes, clearly not expecting you to bring it up again. You lift the blunt to his lips and encourage him to inhale to calm his nerves. The smoke plumes from his nose like a dragon as he exhales, and you're enraptured by the way it swirls through the air before dissipating. He braces a hand on your thigh before responding.

"Well, I…uh—," he mumbles, his cheeks turning a deep shade of burgundy, and you can’t resist reaching out to stroke the heated skin with your fingertips. He breathes shakily as he continues, "I—had a dream about ya last night, and…you, uh—you were…"

He cuts himself off, and your mind goes fuzzy for a moment as you let that little bit of information sink in. So, Joel was dreaming about you last night…and now, he’s treating you so much differently. Calling you pet names, eyeing you up, touching you. It all makes sense—but now you need him to tell you everything.

"What was I doing in your dream, Joel?"

He meets your gaze, looking flustered and a little ashamed, and it's a far cry from the man who was yelling at you not even an hour or two ago.

"You, uh," he clears his throat, still hesitating. You bite your bottom lip in anticipation, sucking it wetly into your mouth, and his eyes darken. He lifts a thumb to your mouth, tugging your lip down just slightly, and you can see the moment his apprehension disappears. "You were on your knees for me," he murmurs. "Doin' such a good job, too, workin' that pretty mouth of yours."

You inhale sharply and his thumb drops, but his eyes never leave your lips. Gingerly, you pluck the joint still burning between his fingers and take one last deep drag before flicking the rest to the side and crashing your lips onto his.

God, they feel exactly like you thought they would, soft and a little chapped from the cold, but so fucking eager against yours. You hold his face in your hands, rubbing your thumbs along the roughness of his beard, and he groans as you exhale into his mouth, tasting the smoke on your tongue.

Sighing, you lean back slowly, heavy-lidded eyes roving over his face to take in his kiss-swollen lips and that beautiful burgundy flush. He's so pretty, and you can’t help but run your fingers through his thick, graying hair as he pants heavily below you.

You need to feel more of him, all of him, so you climb into his lap, straddling his hips and grinding down against where he's already straining in his pants. He grips you tighter in response, working you steadily across his hardening cock.

"Keep going,” you moan breathily. You're already so wet, and heat blooms in your belly every time your clit grazes the seam of his jeans. It's a foggy, hazy pleasure, what you feel when he speaks, and you're addicted to it. “Keep telling me about your dream—a-about my mouth…I wanna hear more.“

You feel rather than hear him growl low in his throat as he ducks his head down to your neck, sucking and biting bruises into your skin.

“Your mouth…so fuckin’ wet—s-soft and tight around my cock,” he sucks hard under your jaw, and you gasp. “Takin’ me all the way down, like I always knew you could.”

Your breath hitches, eyes rolling back. The thought of him dreaming about his cock down your throat makes your cunt pulse, and now you're positive you're soaking through his pants.

You bet he thinks about it when you're on patrol together, too—that when you're fighting like you've both got something to prove, he's thinking about shutting you up with his cock. Fucking your mouth to show you that what he says goes.

"M-more, Joel…ngh, fuck, I need more," you reach down to shove his shirt up so you can feel him, his stomach flexing and unflexing under your palms. He starts to buck into your clothed pussy faster, like he's fucking you through the fabric, and you whine pathetically as he tugs hard on your hair, yanking your head to the side.

"S’alright, n-needy girl, 'm gonna tell you exactly how I was fuckin' that sweet mouth of yours last night…h-how you were—," he groans raggedly in your ear, voice cracking, and you swear you can feel his heartbeat racing between your legs. "…c-chokin' and gaggin' around my cock while I was cummin' down your throat…"

He keeps giving you what you asked for, tells you all the filthy shit he wants to do to your mouth, and his hips start to stutter like he's bringing himself closer to orgasm with his own words. It would make a lot of sense—Joel's always loved the sound of his own voice, especially when it's directed at you.

But you can’t hear much of anything anymore aside from the sound of your own stuttered moaning, suddenly so, so close to hurtling over the edge with him. You’re sliding so easily over his cock now and you brace your hands on his shoulders as your thighs start to quake around his waist. He digs his fingers into the plush curve of your ass, pulling you down harder, but you squeeze his shoulders roughly to get his attention.

“Y-you—Joel, you can’t cum,” you whine into his neck, and he all but snarls in response. “No…no, no, no. Want you t-to fuck my mouth—you have to cum in my mouth—”

He abruptly yanks you off his lap, shoving you back onto the couch and wrenching your jeans and underwear down in two hard tugs.

You barely have time to let out a squeal before he buries his face in your cunt, honing in on your clit and sucking wetly. He flattens his tongue, circling once, twice, three times, and then you’re cumming with a loud exhale, gushing as you grind into his face.

Your pussy’s still pulsing, locking down around nothing, as you tug him off of you by his hair.

“Joel—jeans..o-off…now.” You help him push them down just enough to free his cock, and then your mouth is on him, sucking him down to the hilt.

His hips buck off the couch of their own accord and he groans pathetically as you gag around him. He’s petting your head and saying something raggedly above you, likely apologizing for hurting you, but it’s drowned out by the blood rushing in your ears.

Instead of pulling off to reassure him that you very much want him to keep gagging you, you guide his hands to bury themselves in your hair and squeeze his thigh, praying he gets the hint. His fingers tense against your scalp as he holds you in place and, yeah, he absolutely gets it.

Your head feels like it’s disconnecting from the rest of your body as he starts fucking into your mouth the way he was probably dreaming about last night. He’s just so fucking big, and you feel a weird sort of pride bloom in your chest at being able to take him like this.

Tears are streaming down your face from the effort and you’re drooling all over his lap but, fuck, if he wants to do this every time you patrol together, you’ll let him. You take back everything you said before—if Tommy ever takes you off Joel’s patrols, you’ll kill him.

His fingers start to tug harder, painfully at your hair and you can hear him moaning something above you, his words slurred and desperate.

“S-so fuckin’ good, sweetheart, you’re…ngh—fuckin’ perfect,” he grits through his teeth, breath hitching as you wrap your lips tighter around him, flattening your tongue along the underside of his length. “‘m gonna cum…fuck, fuck—need you t-to swallow it all, sweetheart… know you can do it…so goddamn good.”

Humming and swallowing around him, you reach up to cup his balls and he erupts, pumping thick cum into your mouth and down your throat. Deep groans are punched out of his chest with every spurt and you can feel his cock pulsing against your tongue.

There’s so much of it. You try your best to do what he asked, to be good and swallow everything, but it’s starting to leak out the corners of your mouth and down his cock. Slurping up as much as you can, you pull off with an audible pop and lick off the rest of the salty, white streaks remaining on his skin.

When your watery eyes finally meet his, he’s looking at you like maybe he really has been dreaming this whole time. He’s still a little dazed, from both the weed and the intense orgasm, and he reaches out to cradle your face in his hands almost as if to prove to himself that you’re real. It’s a surprisingly tender gesture that kind of makes your heart ache.

Your lips quirk up as you lean into his touch, aching to prolong the moment, and he leans forward to press a sweet kiss to them, mouth coaxing yours open to taste himself on your tongue. You whine softly as his tongue runs along your bottom lip, and then he pulls back, hauling you into his arms to lie back on the couch.

Those heat lamps feel unbearable now. You're both hot and sweating, chests heaving from exertion, but you still refuse to separate from each other. Your brain’s feeling a lot less foggy, so you’re probably coming down from your high, which means Joel is, too. The realization sends a pang of worry through your chest like you expect him to suddenly come to and push you away, but he doesn’t.

Instead, he pulls your back to his chest, positioning your bodies more comfortably before murmuring fondly in your ear, "You’re somethin’ else, y’know that?”

You breathe out a sigh of relief. Maybe you’ll get to keep this after all—and without sacrificing everything that makes you and Joel, well…you and Joel. You twist around to shoot him an unimpressed look, but the burgeoning grin on your face betrays you.

“What, you’re just figuring that out? Took you long enough.”

He scoffs. “Listen, sweetheart—“ But you gasp, cutting him off before he can finish his sentence. No, way. How are you just putting two and two together now?

“Wait…oh my god, wait—is this why you keep calling me sweetheart? Because it's what you called me when I was blowing you in your sex dream?” You’re grinning so hard it hurts. How the fuck didn't you notice that earlier?

There was plenty of time to work it out when you were all but fucking on the couch for the past hour. But then…he didn’t actually start calling you sweetheart until he was cumming, and the realization makes your cunt throb. You file that information away for now, but make a mental note to come back to it later—hopefully back in Jackson with Joel.

…who’s still mumbling irritatedly into your shoulder. You tilt your head back to press your lips under his jaw, and you're quickly learning that kissing that particular spot turns him to jelly.

“You can keep calling me sweetheart,” you start, thinking over your next words carefully. “But I’ve got conditions.”

“Oh, she’s got demands now,” you can hear the dramatic eye roll in his voice. You suck a bruise into his skin to stop the back sass and it works spectacularly.

“Oh, shut up. It benefits you too, asshole,” you glare up at him before continuing. “I want your dick in my mouth every time we patrol from now on. And next time, you have to fuck me.”

His fingers dig into your sides, and you’re pretty sure you just felt his cock twitch against your ass.

“…Y-yeah, I, uh. I can do that,” he stutters, suddenly demure, and it dawns on you how much you like seeing all these different sides of Joel. He’s been mean and angry, shy and tender, and so fucking sexy all in the span of a single day. It's not something you ever would've expected from him.

You used to think he was just some grumpy old man and that his one personality trait was being an obnoxious jerk, but tonight you were proven very, very wrong.

You pull his arms tighter around you, let yourself get lost in the steady thrum of his heartbeat against your back, and hum contently. You’ll have to thank Ellie and her weed-grower friend later.

“Y’know, I almost thought you were gonna say no more fighting,” he says after a few seconds of silence. You look up at him incredulously, and he chuckles.

“Nah, where’s the fun in that?”

thanks so much for reading! 🥰

[doctorbitchcrxft]

No Exit | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? )

Warnings: Jo and reader are dicks to each other, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 5754

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You and the Winchester boys had been hunkered down in the rooms Ellen told you about the first time she met you for a few days now. You were grateful for her generosity while you and the brothers tried to pin down your next move with the demon or another hunt, but you were going stir crazy. You sat on the hood of the Impala under the shade of a tree pouring through newspapers. Sam and Dean approached you after a few hours of you researching.

“What are you doing to my baby?” Dean asked you.

“Dee, she’s fine, we’re bonding,” you said, tapping the spot next to you on the hood. “Nothing’s dented or broken; promise.”

He gave you a skeptical look but said nothing else.

“ ‘Sides, I was getting ready to come get you anyway,” you said, hopping down. “I think I got something. Los Angeles, California.”

“What’s in L.A.?” Sam asked.

“Young girl's been kidnapped by an evil cult,” you smirked.

“Yeah? Girl got a name?” 

“Katie Holmes.”

Dean chuckled, and a grin spread across your face. 

“Seriously, though, it’s like all things supernatural disappeared off the face of the earth,” you continued.

Dean turned his head toward the Roadhouse at the sound of a glass breaking. “Ooh, catfight.”

You grimaced and followed the boys into the bar cautiously. Ellen and Jo were arguing loudly about Jo wanting to go off and Ellen wanting her to stay at the Roadhouse or go back to school. She stopped shouting when she noticed you. “Guys, bad time.”

“Yes, ma'am,” Sam said. The three of you turned to leave.

Dean got one more quip in, saying, “Yeah, we rarely drink before ten anyway.”

“Funny, let’s go,” you deadpanned, grabbing his jacket lightly and pulling him to the door.

“Wait. I wanna know what they think about this,” Jo said.

At the sound of the creaking front door, you turned to see a family with two kids under three walking in wearing bright yellow “Nebraska is for Lovers” t-shirts.

Ellen continued to yell despite the customers that had entered. “I don't care what they think!”

The father of the two young kids cut Ellen off. “Are you guys open?”

Jo yelled, “No!” and her mother yelled, “Yes!”

The dad grimaced and shrank away. “We’ll just… check out the Arby’s down the road.”

The phone rang as the family left, and Ellen went to answer it. Jo turned to you and the brothers; her gaze mostly focused on Dean, per usual. 

“Three weeks ago, a young girl disappears from a Philadelphia apartment.” She shoved a file at Dean. Dean looked down at it strangely.  “Take it, it won't bite,” she said.

“No, but your mom might,” he responded.

Jo’s lips pinched, still holding out the folder. He took it reluctantly as Jo continued explaining. “And this girl wasn't the first. Over the past eighty years six women have vanished. All from the same building, all young blondes. Only happens every decade or two so cops never eyeball the pattern. So we're either dealing with one very old serial killer, or—”

Dean flipped through it and cut her off. “Who put this together? Ash?"

Jo smiled proudly. “I did it myself.”

Dean hummed, impressed, and you took the folder from him. You flipped through it, secretly hoping to find holes in it somewhere, but you couldn’t at first glance. You were impressed, too, much to your chagrin.

“I gotta admit. We hit the road for a lot less,” Sam added.

“Good. You like the case so much, you take it,” Ellen stated.

“Mom!”

“Joanna Beth, this family has lost enough. And I won't lose you too. I just won't.”

Your gaze softened as you took in Ellen’s grief-stricken features. You could completely empathize with how that felt. And so, you and the brothers set off. 

***

“I feel kind of bad, snaking Jo's case,” Sam said as the three of you stalked around the deceased’s apartment.

“I don’t,” you said. “Her mom’s only trying to protect her.”

“Exactly. Maybe she put together a good file,” Dean added, “but could you see her out here working one of these things? I don't think so.”

You pulled out your EMF meter and continued walking around the very nice apartment. “What I wouldn’t give to have one of these,” you muttered. “You getting anything?”

“No, not yet,” replied Sam. Just as he spoke, you heard his meter beeping. He leaned over to something in front of him, and you walked over.

“What's that?” you asked.

“What?” Dean came up behind you as Sam reached down to the lightswitch and lightly touched it.

“Holy crap,” the younger Winchester said.

Dean reached forward, too. “That's ectoplasm. Well, Sam, I think I know what we're dealing with here. It's the Stay-Puft Marshmallow Man.”

You snickered. “Can we get through one hunt without a Ghostbusters reference, please?”

“Never.”

“Guys, focus, please,” Sam deadpanned. “I've only seen this stuff, like, twice. I mean, to make this stuff you have to be one majorly pissed off spirit.”

“Alright, let's find this badass before he snags any more girls,” Dean said. You followed him out of the apartment and immediately had to cling to a wall to avoid being seen by the approaching voices. Your face fell when you realized one of the voices was Jo’s.

“It is so spacious.” Her voice was getting closer. “You know, my friend told me I absolutely have to come check it out, and I have to admit, she was right. You did a really good job with this place.”

Dean stepped out suddenly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“There you are, honey,” Jo grinned, wrapping an arm around Dean’s waist. You could’ve killed her.  “This is my boyfriend Dean, and his buddies, Sam and (Y/N).”

“Good to meetcha,” the landlord said. “Quite a gal you've got here.”

Dean smacked her ass roughly, trying to convey his frustration to her. “Oh yeah, she's a pistol.”

“So, did you already check out that apartment? The one for rent,” Jo asked Dean.

“Yeah. Yes. Loved it. Heh. Great flow.”

“How'd you get in?” the landlord asked.

Dean swallowed harshly. “It was open.”

“Now, Ed, um, when did the last tenant move out?” Jo grinned back at the landlord.

“Oh, about a month ago. Cut and run, too. Stuck me for the rent.”

“Well. Her loss, our gain! 'Cause if Dean-o loves it, it's good enough for me.”

“Oh, sweetie,” Dean gritted through his teeth, smacking her again.

Jo pulled out a wad of cash. “We’ll take it.”

The landlord’s eyes widened, and he immediately brought you back to the front office to get a key.

***

You paced around the lovely apartment furiously at Jo re-hijacking the hunt you’d hijacked from her. 

“I’ll flip you for the sofa,” she said to you.

“Does your mom even know you’re here?” you asked.

“Told her I was going to Vegas.”

You scoffed. “She’s not stupid, She’s not gonna buy that.”

“I'm not an idiot,” Jo challenged. “I got Ash to lay a credit card trail all the way to the casinos.”

Dean took your humorless laugh as an opportunity to jump in before you got any uglier. “You know, you shouldn't lie to your mom. Shouldn't be here, either.”

“Well, I am,” she said. “So untwist your boxers and deal with it.”

“Where'd you get all that money from, anyways?” Sam questioned.

She gave a prideful smile. “Working. At the Roadhouse.”

“Hunters don’t tip that well,” Dean replied.

“Well, they aren't that good at poker, either,” she smirked.

‘Take away her immaturity, inexperience, rashness, and massive crush on Dean, I probably could be friends with her,’ you thought.

Dean’s cell phone rang. “Yeah?” He answered, still glaring at Jo. “Oh, hi, Ellen.” Dean and Jo had a furious muttered argument before he said, “I haven’t seen her” back into the phone. “Yeah, I'm sure… Absolutely.” Dean hung up, and Jo grinned cheerfully.

“Why didn’t you tell her?” you hissed at Dean. “Ellen’s gonna murder us.”

“Seriously?” Jo folded her arms at you. “You’re scared of my mom?”

“No,” you spat back. “I just don’t wanna babysit the whole time I’m trying to hunt.”

“(Y/N), stop it,” Sam warned.

“Me? This chick has a death wish, and I need to ‘stop it’?” you snarked. “I’m going to get some air.” You stomped out of the room, Dean trailing behind you.

“(Y/N), where are you going?” he asked.

“Away,” you snorted. “She’s pissing me off. I’m not hunting with her.”

He grabbed your arm. “I’m not happy, either, but what’s this really about?”

You felt caught. “What?”

“You heard me. What’s goin’ on? You’re normally the one who has to talk me off the ledge. Not the other way around,” he said.

You lowered your voice. “I don’t trust her,” you began. “I don’t trust her to have any of our backs. All she’s tried to do thus far is get in your pants and act like an immature brat.

"She has potential, sure, and she’s smart, but she’s not one of us. And I have no idea what her skillset is. She pointed a rifle at you one time; we’ve never seen her use one. She could be an awful shot. And she has no idea how to actually kill anything. She’s, what, twenty-one, twenty-two? She didn’t grow up hunting. She has no experience.

"She doesn’t belong here. And you not telling Ellen she’s here was a huge mistake. Because now, she’s our responsibility. And like I said, I’m not babysitting. If it’s between you or Sam, and her, I’m saving you and Sam every time.”

Dean smirked down at you.

“What?” you hissed.

“You’re jealous,” he said simply.

“Seriously? Did you hear anything else I said?” You crossed your arms and quirked a brow.

He chuckled. “Yeah, I did, and I agree. I’ll watch her if you’ll watch Sam, okay? No blood on your hands if something happens to her,” he replied.

You shook your head. “No, Dean, I don’t like that, either—”

Dean smirked down at you. “What, don’t you trust me?”

“Of course, I do,” you replied. “I don’t trust her.”

He chuckled. “I think you said that already.”

“Just—” you huffed. “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Dean snorted. “C’mon, it’s me we’re talking about. I’ll be fine. Will you come back and be civil now?” he asked.

“No promises.”

“Okay, I guess we’re doing this, then.” He raised his pinky at you, and you rolled your eyes.

“I can’t make a pinky promise I can’t keep,” you replied.

“That’s the point. You have to, so I know you’ll be civil.” Dean looked down at you, a challenge in his eyes and a smile plastered on his face.

“But—” you tried.

“No.”

“Dean,” you groaned but locked pinkies with him nonetheless.

“See, was that so hard?” he smirked down at you.

“You can’t use my own thing against me,” you said as you headed back to the apartment. “That’s against the rules of pinky promises.”

“Oh, there’s rules now?” Dean questioned playfully.

“There are when I say there are,” you responded flippantly, opening the door to the apartment.

Jo and Sam turned to face you, and you suddenly felt incredibly uncomfortable. 

“Look, Jo—” you started.

“Save it. It’s fine,” she replied.

“Well, okay, then,” you mumbled, softly enough that only Dean could hear you mocking her. 

Dean gave you a warning look. “(Y/N).”

“I know, I know.”

***

You sat at the table with your laptop next to Sam as Dean paced around the room. Jo had been flipping her little knife around for the last thirty minutes while she looked over the blueprints for the apartment.

“This place was built in 1924. It was originally a warehouse, converted into apartments a few months ago,” she explained.

“Yeah? What was here before 1924?” Dean questioned.

“Nothing. Empty field.”

“So, most likely scenario, someone died bloody in the building, and now he's back and raising hell,” Sam added.

Jo shook her head. “I already checked. In the past eighty-two years, zero violent deaths. Unless you count a janitor who slipped on a wet floor.” She looked up to Dean. “Would you sit down, please?”

Dean sat hesitantly at the head of the table, eyeing Jo guardedly. “So, have you checked police reports, county death records—”

“Obituaries, mortuary reports and seven other sources. I know what I'm doing,” she said.

“Jury’s still out on that one,” Dean replied. “Could you put the knife down?”

She complied, eyeing him angrily. He glared back.

Sam huffed. “Okay! So, uh, it's something else, then. Maybe some kind of cursed object that brought a spirit with it.”

“Meh, unless somebody’s got a relic from an Egyptian tomb, I’m not sure a cursed object has the kind of spirit power necessary to make ectoplasm,” you said. 

Jo completely ignored you. “Well, we've got to scan the whole building. Everywhere we can get to, right?”

“Right. So. You and me, we'll take the top two floors,” Dean said firmly. “Sam and (Y/N)’ll take the bottom two.”

“We'd move faster if we split up,” the blonde tried.

“Oh, this isn't negotiable,” Dean responded. 

***

You and Sam returned to the room way sooner than Dean and Jo did. The two of you found nothing of particular interest, unfortunately, and opted to just sprawl out on the couch and floor watching a rerun of Seinfeld. 

“I just wanted to tell you,” Sam began, “I don’t think you’re wrong about Jo. Just… tone it down a bit. My brother’s dickish enough to her.”

You sighed. “Dean made me pinky promise I would be civil, so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.”

He scoffed. “My brother made you pinky promise?”

You giggled. “I introduced him to the concept.”

“What have you done to him?” Sam chuckled sarcastically. 

You shook your head. “I have no idea. I don’t know what he’s doing to me, either.”

Sam paused. “Have you… talked about it at all?”

You nodded your head from side to side as if to say, “sorta.” “I just don’t think now’s the right time. I mean, after your dad, I don’t wanna take advantage of that or him to use me as a distraction.”

He nodded in understanding. “I get it. But… I also don’t think Dean would use you.”

You shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.” You paused. “How are you holding up, by the way? We haven’t had much of an opportunity to hang out one-on-one recently.”

“Honestly? Not great,” he sighed. “I’m scared, man. I don’t know what’s happening or how to stop it. And I think my dad died thinking I hate him.” Tears began to well in his eyes. “I never should’ve said those things to him.”

You got up from the floor and went to sit next to him. You reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezing firmly. “If it helps at all, I think my dad died thinking the same. And that feeling goes away after a while. I think both our dads knew that despite our many, many, many issues with each other, the bottom line is, we loved each other a lot.”

He squeezed your hand back and looked at you with sad, puppy-dog eyes. “I hope you’re right.”

The door opened to reveal Dean and Jo bickering and Dean’s fist clenched around a clump of blonde hair with skin attached to it. 

You giggled. “What, you hate each other that much that you ripped a piece of Jo’s hair out?”

Dean deadpanned, “No, smartass. We found this in a vent.”

Your stomach dropped. “Oh. Gross.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Dean grumbled. He opened the trash can in the room and dumped it inside.

“Alright, it’s getting late,” Jo stated. “Who’s sleeping where? There’s four of us, two beds, and a couch.”

“(Y/N) and I’ll take a bed,” Dean said casually almost immediately. “Sam’ll take the other. Jo, you got the couch.”

The three of you were stunned at Dean and his adamancy. 

Oh-kay,” Jo said, still shocked. 

“C’mon,” Dean said, jerking his head toward one of the rooms. He picked up your duffel bags and headed off.

You followed behind, saying “Goodnight, guys,” and shut the door behind you. You tapped the sides of your thighs with your palms as you stayed firmly planted by the door.

Dean seemed to feel a little awkward, too, and blew out a breath. “Was this… uh, okay?”

You nodded. “Yeah! Yeah. Sure. Why not? We’re adults. We’re friends. We can share a bed. No big.”

He chuckled. “You sure? You ramble when you’re nervous.”

“Nervous?” you laughed awkwardly. “Why would I be nervous?” He raised a brow at you, and you took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I’ve just… I’ve never… Hunting’s lonely. Even when I did hook up, I’d leave before I fell asleep.”

Dean seemed stunned. “Really? Why?”

“I don’t know, it just… felt too intimate, I guess? And I’ve never had anybody I seriously cared about that I’d want to experience that with,” you explained, sitting on the foot of the bed and kicking off your shoes.

His voice quieted considerably. “You sure you’re okay with this?”

You nodded. He seemed to understand what that meant, though both of you refused to talk about it. 

Dean showered, as did you, and then you climbed into bed next to one another. The two of you seemed to have scooted to the far edges of the bed, facing away from each other. After several minutes in silence, Dean spoke up.

“(Y/N)?” he murmured.

“Yeah?” 

“C’mere.” 

You could feel yourself getting flustered as you shuffled over to Dean, who now laid in the center of the bed. He opened his arms and wrapped them around you, allowing you to lay on his chest. You rested your hand on his stomach, and he took in a sharp breath.

“Should’ve cleaned the pipes,” he muttered.

You scoffed. “Perv,” and moved your arm across his stomach completely. You settled into him and drifted off to the most peaceful sleep you’d had in a while.

***

The next time you awoke, you felt arms around you, and you tensed. It took you a second to remember Dean was sleeping soundly next to you. His arms held tighter when he felt you shift, and you turned your face toward his. You smiled sadly at his beautiful, peaceful face, knowing this hunt would be the only time for quite a while that you’d get to wake up to him. You closed your eyes and nuzzled back into him, only to feel him groan above you; beginning to awaken.

“Morning,” he said. His sleepy voice was incredibly attractive. His arms didn’t move from around you.

A smile spread across your face. “G’morning. How’d you sleep?”

“Great, actually,” he admitted. He almost looked sad and regretful as he looked down at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“You’re confusing me again,” Dean said.

You looked away from him, understanding. Your face fell, too. “You’re confusing me, too.”

“I want to… be more to you so bad,” he began, “but I can’t. I’m tired, (Y/N). I’m so fucking tired. I’m tired of this job, I’m tired of dealing with my dad, I’m tired of… all of it.”

“I know,” you said. “So, what do you want us to do? Do you— Do you want me to leave?”

“No, god, no,” he said quickly. “I don’t know what I want.”

You snorted. “Well, what is it you don’t want? Why don’t we start there?”

He considered for a moment. “I don’t wanna lose you.”

“You won’t,” you immediately said.

“Will you let me finish?”

“Sorry.”

He sighed. “I don’t wanna name and claim anything right now. I don’t wanna be just your best friend, but I also— I don’t think I can—” Dean paused and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t be able to give you what I want to give you right now. I can’t be what you deserve.”

“Dean,” you said. “This is a very low-pressure situation. I know you and I can’t go there right now. I know that. And… I want to, too. I care about you more than I’ve ever cared about… anybody else.” You swallowed tensely, not sure if you’d said too much. “I— I want you to heal. And I know you’re tired. And I know it’s awful. And I hope that one day, I can make things better for you. But I also know that you have to fix you first. But until then, we can just be us. I won’t initiate anything. I need you to come to me when you’re ready. And until then, we’ll just be you and me.”

He nodded. “Thanks.”

You smiled softly. “Always.”

***

After you and Dean talked things over a bit, you learned from Sam that another girl had died. Dean was off to investigate the room while you, Sam, and Jo researched. Jo wouldn’t look at you with anything but disgust after you spent the night with Dean. Her schoolgirl-ish crush was beginning to really just annoy you more than make you jealous.

Dean burst through the door. “Teresa Ellis, Apartment 2F. Boyfriend reported her missing around dawn.”

“And her apartment?” Jo questioned.

“Cracks all over the plaster, walls, ceiling. There was ectoplasm, too.”

“Well, between that and that tuft of hair, I'd say this sucker's coming from the walls,” Sam added.

“But who is it? Building's history is totally clean,” Dean reminded you.

There were various pictures and blueprints from Jo’s file spread across the table between you, Sam, and Jo. You picked up a picture of the field where the apartments now stood. Next to it was a building with bars on its windows. “Check this out. We’re next door to a prison.” 

“Nice going, (Y/N),” Sam grinned. 

Jo pulled out her phone. “I’ll call Ash—”

“No,” you shook your head, standing. “Let me figure this one out. Something about this is sounding really familiar to me, and it’s gonna bother me if I’m not the one to nail it down.”

“And what a shame that would be,” Jo snarked.

You glared at her as you continued to pace around the room. “Blonde hair, in the walls, prison, field, Philadelphia…” you murmured to yourself. You repeated it over and over to yourself until something struck you. “H. H. Holmes,” you breathed. “Holy shit.”

“What? What about him?” Sam questioned, straightening in his seat.

“That was his whole thing! He was really, and I mean, really into blondes— though, he’d kill just about anybody— had his whole ‘murder castle’ thing in Chicago, and the feds tracked him all the way to Boston. They brought him back to Philly, and he was hanged. Hence, field. Fields next to old prisons were almost always used for hangings,” you explained.

“What do you mean, ‘murder castle’?” Jo questioned. “And how do you know all this?”

“I like true crime,” you shrugged. “He built all these fake walls, fake hallways; his place was a fucking maze. Acid vats, trap doors, quicklime pits all up in his basement— although most of that was probably sensationalized— but anyway, this guy was a complete freak. ‘Multi-murderer’ was first used to describe him before they knew what serial killers were. He confessed to twenty-seven murders, but he probably killed over a hundred. He, uh, he used chloroform to kill his victims.”

Dean nodded, “Which is what I smelled in the hallway last night.”

“At his place,” you continued, “cops found human remains, bone fragments, and long locks of bloody blonde hair.”

Dean snickered at Jo. “Boy, you sure know how to pick 'em.”

“Well, we just find the bones, salt 'em and burn 'em, right?” she said, anxiously.

“Nope. His body’s in town encased in a couple tons of concrete,” you responded.

“What, why?” she asked.

“Didn’t want anybody fuckin’ with his corpse. ‘Cause, y’know, that’s what he did,” you cringed. 

“Wait, (Y/N), that means Teresa could still be alive. Inside the walls,” Sam added.

You nodded. “Yeah. Poor girl.”

“We need sledgehammers, crowbars. We've got to smash these walls; anywhere thick enough to hide a girl,” Dean barked out, hurriedly moving around the apartment.

***

You went with Sam, and Dean went with Jo as he promised you he would. Sam couldn’t get too far into the crawl-spaces of the walls, and you insisted on pressing forward. If you could get through, then the space was big enough to hide a girl. 

“(Y/N), holler if you need, okay?” Sam called to you.

“I’m good, dude, I promise. But you do the same.” You continued to wriggle through winding, claustrophobia-inducing corridors till you came face to face with the man himself; H. H. Holmes. Although, this version of the famed serial killer was a lot more gray, decayed, and gaunt than the one you’d seen in pictures. You screamed, “Sam!” before the world went dark.

***

You next awoke in a box that eerily mirrored a coffin; it was made of wood and just big enough for you to lay down in. You pointed your flashlight up at the ceiling to see long, deep, bloodied gashes in the wood; presumably nail marks. You huffed out a shaky breath, collecting yourself, when you noticed a slit in the wood to your right. A noise startled your already shaken mind, and you heard Jo say, “Hello?” You refused to talk, worried that it would upset Holmes even more.

You heard another woman’s voice coming from a different part of the room. “Is- Is anybody there?”

Jo continued talking. “Your name's Teresa? This won't make you feel better, but I'm here to rescue you.”

“Oh, god. He's out there; he's gonna kill us!” Teresa cried.

“No, he won't. We're getting out,” Jo insisted. “My friends are looking for us; they'll find us.”

Footsteps fell eerily nearby, and you could vaguely make out something approaching you.

“Oh, god, he's here!” Teresa sobbed.

“Shh! Just be quiet!” Jo scolded.

‘So much for being quiet, Jo,’ you thought. The next thing you heard was Jo screaming in pain, and you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from calling out to her.

You took a knife out of your belt and began hacking at the wall. You kicked with all your might until you finally started to break through a little. Suddenly, a man’s mouth appeared at the opening you were making in the wood. 

“You're so pretty. So beautiful,” the spirit cooed, reaching in your cell to stroke your cheek. You cringed and turned away, groaning in disgust. You turned back and stabbed it with your knife, the spirit crying out before disappearing again. You went back to kicking and hacking at the door with even more force than before. At long last, the paneling came loose, and you laughed in relief. You pried the rest of the paneling away from the wall and rolled out onto the floor, catching yourself before you toppled over completely. When you stood and dusted off your hands, Holmes appeared behind you and clasped a hand over your mouth. You kicked and struggled against him, screaming behind his hand muffling you. You wrestled with him a bit more before the spirit suddenly let you go. He disappeared completely when you heard a gunshot go off.

“(Y/N)!” Dean ran into the room, holding a shotgun.

You breathed out a sigh of relief. “Holy shit, I’m so happy to see you.” You ran to him and wrapped your arms around him.

“Um, little help, here!” Jo said from her box. 

You ran to the wall next to her and picked up a crowbar lying nearby. You began prying the cell open, groaning strenuously as you did so. When it finally released, you helped Jo down. “You okay?” you asked her.

“Been better. Let's get the hell out of here before he comes back,” she answered.

“I’m not leaving here just yet,” you said.

“(Y/N), no—” Dean protested firmly. He seemed to understand what you were doing.

“What other plan do you have, Dean?” “Wait, what’s going on here?” Jo questioned.

“(Y/N)’s gonna use herself as bait,” he explained. 

“What, would you rather Jo be bait? I don’t think so,” you said flippantly. “Now, get them out of here.” You gestured to Sam to help a frightened Teresa and Jo out of the room. 

***

You sat in the center of the room completely unmoving. You sat cross-legged, breathing evenly. You’d learned long ago how to steel yourself to these situations. You grinned slightly when Holmes began to approach you. When he got very close, Dean yelled, “Now!” and Sam and Dean began shooting the bags of salt you’d strung up to the ceiling to create a perfect circle of salt around the spirit. You ran out of the circle, leaving Holmes trapped inside. He wailed and growled at you, running around the salt circle pathetically.

“Scream all you want, you dick, but there's no way you're stepping over that salt!” you laughed coldly.

You and the brothers climbed back up out of the sewer and closed the grate, fully silencing Holmes’ howls.

***

“So? This job as glamorous as you thought it would be?” Sam asked Jo as the three of you stood over the top of the closed sewer..

“Well, except for all the pee-your-pants terror, yeah. Sure. But that Teresa girl's gonna live a life because of us. It's worth it, isn't it?” Jo replied.

You nodded. “Yeah. It is.”

“Hey, what if somebody finds that sewer down there, or a storm washes the salt away?” she questioned.

Sam chuckled. “Both very fine points. Which is why we're waiting here.”

“For what?”

As if on cue, you heard the beeping of a large truck backing up. You grinned over your shoulder at Dean backing up the cement truck he’d stolen, and motioned for him to stop when the spout lined up over the sewer’s entrance.

Dean got out of the cab and came to stand next to you.

“You ripped off a cement truck?” Jo scoffed.

“We’ll give it back,” you shrugged. You turned a lever on the side of the truck and watched the cement pour down into the entrance. 

“Well, that oughta keep him down there till hell freezes over,” Dean grinned.

***

As you and the brothers were heading out with Jo in tow, Ellen appeared at the entrance of the apartments, intense anger bubbling just under the surface. You and the boys cringed at the sight of her.

“Mom—” Jo began.

“Not now.”

She forced the five of you to ride back to the Roadhouse in complete silence. Ellen sat in the front seat, staring blankly ahead, and you were sandwiched between Jo and Sam in the back.

Dean chuckled awkwardly. “Boy, you– you really weren't kidding about flying out, were you?”

“You told her?!” you couldn’t help but blurt out.

Ellen scowled at you in the rearview mirror. You shrunk under her gaze. 

“How about we listen to some music?” Dean flicked the radio on. Ellen immediately reached forward and flicked the radio off.

You looked up to Dean, who looked back to you.

“This is gonna be a long drive,” he muttered.

***

Ellen dragged her daughter into the Roadhouse by her elbow, and you and the brothers followed closely.

“Ellen? This is my fault. Okay?” Dean tried. “I lied to you and I'm sorry. But Jo did good out there. I think her dad would be proud.”

Ellen whipped around, angrily commanding, “Don't you dare say that. Not you. I need a moment with my daughter. Alone.”

The three of you left and loitered around in silence for the next few minutes. Jo stormed out of the Roadhouse soon after, tossing a glance to Dean to incentivize him to follow her.

“That bad, huh?” he asked as he walked after her.

“Not right now.”

“What happened? Hey, talk to me.” He grabbed her arm and spun her around.

Jo immediately jerked her arm out of Dean's grasp. “Get off me!”

“Sorry. See you around,” he said, turning back to you and Sam.

“Dean,” Jo’s broken voice called.

He turned back to the blonde.

“It turns out my dad had a partner on his last hunt. Funny, he usually worked alone; this guy did too, but,” she swallowed her forming tears, “I guess my father figured he could trust him. Mistake. Guy screwed up, got my dad killed.”

The older brother’s face scrunched up. “What does this have to do with—”

“It was your father, Dean.”

Dean scoffed. “What?”

“Why do you think John never came back? Never told you about us? Because he couldn't look my mom in the eye after that, that's why,” Jo spat.

“Jo—” Dean tried.

“Just... just get out of here. Please, just leave.”

The three of you did as Jo asked. You headed back to Bobby’s to regroup and find yourselves another hunt. Dean was silent on the multi-hour-long drive back. When you stopped at Bobby’s house, Sam went inside. Dean stayed seated in his car, and you stayed with him.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

He scoffed. “ ‘What’s wrong’? Did you hear anything Jo said?”

“I did, I just wanted to see what’s goin’ on in your head,” you replied, unfazed by his attitude.

He shook his head and sighed. “If Ellen hated my dad so much and didn’t trust us at all, then why the fuck would she have called my dad in the first place?”

You nodded, getting out of the car; followed by Dean. “Yeah, I don’t get it,” you agreed. “She wants to get involved with your personal family shit and the demon and let us bunk at her place, and then bring up old crap you and Sam weren’t even a part of? I mean, I get that John did something that got ‘im killed, but I really don’t see how that’s your fault.”

“Whatever,” Dean grumbled. “At least we don’t have to babysit anymore.”

You snorted. “That’s one way to look at it, I guess. But you don’t have to pretend you’re not bothered by it. I know you are.”

He scoffed.

“Dean. I know you are. And I also know that I trust you with my life. And you know I don’t trust easily. You are not your father.” You walked up the steps into Bobby’s house, leaving Dean in the junkyard to mull over your words.

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[artssslut2]

hey I have a freaky request.

Could you write a fanfiction where reader is heavily pregnant and art helps her with her h0rniness. Ty

First time writing smut tell me what you think!!

Art Donaldson x Reader

It was June and you were heavily pregnant with your husband Arts baby. It felt like it was a million degrees outside, you were growing more uncomfortable every single day. Your hormones were an all time high and you would go from being furious at Art for no reason to needing him inside at that second. You and Art had been very sexually active all through your pregnancy however it started slowing down when you reached the eighth month because of how huge you felt,it became harder.

Art was more attracted to you now than ever something about seeing you pregnant knowing he did it to you made him so horny. But he always waited for you to initiate things because he knew you were adjusting to changes every day. Today you were feeling particularly hormonal, you started the morning sobbing because Art had to go to the gym, it was like no part of you could be rational lately. Your meltdown caused Art to be late for training, after he left you were so mad that had no control over your emotions you forgot why you were sad. But now you felt so unbelievably horny, like you’ve never felt before. You needed art, right now. You didn’t want to pull him away from training but it’s not like you could do anything about it considering your size. You tried not to call him, your being crazy you thought. You tried so hard to distract yourself but soon you found yourself in tears calling your husband.

“Art? Baby can you please come home? Like right now?” You asked clearly very upset, you could here Art running from the courts to his car

“Yeah yeah I’ll be there in ten minutes is everything okay?” He asked franticly thinking something bad was happening.

“Yes but please hurry” you cried. Arts coaches were only letting him go because they knew his wife could give birth at any second.

Art raced home and burst through the door

“Y/n!” He called out looking for you, you were on the patio on the lounge bed

“I’m out here!” You called, Art ran outside looking terrified

“What’s wrong are you okay is the baby okay!?” You felt a little guilty seeing him so worried

“Art I’m okay. The baby is okay. It’s just- I just-“ you stuttered wondering how to tell him you called him out of training so he could fuck you. You sat up on the edge of the bed looking up at him

“I really needed you.” You said batting your eye lashes

“For what, what do you need my love?” He asked not understanding what you meant

“I need you” you said reaching under his shirt exposing his V line as you Laid kisses on it. Art finally understood

“Ohh, wait you calls some out of practice for sex?” He questioned, you nodded hoping he wasn’t too mad, he chuckled softly. “You should have said something I was scared” he admitted as you continued to open mouth kiss his v like fidgeting with his waistband. Arts breath hitched giving in to your kisses

“I need you so bad Art. I need your dick inside of me.” You felt him grow under you palm. It had been a while since you and Art had been intimate like this, Art didn’t think he was gonna last too long. You wasted no time, ripping his cock out and shoving it down your throat instantly. Art gasped running his hands through your hair

“Fuck baby you feel so good I missed your mouth on me” he moaned letting his head fall back

“You taste so good Art, I need all of you” you devoured his dick I’m the sloppiest way you ever had. Art bucked his hips gently into your mouth rolling his eyes unwillingly. He came down to his knees to be at your level grabbing your face and kissing you. You moaned into his mouth pulling his hair. You were desperate for him. The make out session was sloppy and hot he cupped the back of your head to stick his younger further into your mouth.

“Lay back love” he instructed you helping you lay back on the lounge bed. Thank god for high fences. Art crawled over you taking your shirt off then ripping his off he kissed your swollen breasts making your shiver,

“Art please I need it” you begged

“Need what use your words baby” he looked at you

“Your mouth. Please. Now.” You moaned, he smirked pulling down your shorts then painties.

“How bad do you need it my love?” He teased

“ART!” You yelled not in the mood for his games. He chuckled then started kissing and sucking your clit, you moaned a little too loudly hoping your neighbors weren’t listening. You were so sensitive it made everything feel so good

“Fuck Art” you pushed his face into your soaking Pussy

“So wet for me darling” he breathed into you making your hips buck,

“Use you fingers baby please I’m so close” you begged breathlessly

“Eager huh?” He said shoving two fingers inside you curling then towards you searching for your favorite spot. He heard you gasp and throw your head back

“There it is” he smirked he kept pumping his fingers into you while sucking your clit you were so close, then he stopped suddenly

“Fuck why’d you stop?!”

“I want to be inside you” he ordered getting rid of his shorts and lining himself up with your entrance. He slid in with ease and you both moaned in sync.

“Fuck y/n your so tight” he groaned. He thrusted into you, your boobs were following his thrusts. Sex at this point in your pregnancy was difficult you had to get creative with positions almost everything was uncomfortable.

“Switch come behind me” you told him pushing him out of you and rolling to your side, he followed quickly so he was to the side of you. He slipped in again reaching around grabbing your hip to move you in a rhythm with him.

“Fuck right there baby please fuck me harder” you shouted sounding animalistic. You once again had no control over yourself. It drove art crazy. You could feel him getting closer with every thrust, you were right on the edge

“Cum for me baby, cum around me” he said in your ear kissing your neck. With a heaving moan you let go around him he followed you soon after.

You stayed in position as you both caught your breath.

“You should call me out of practice for this more” he laughed, you felt so safe in his arms you smiled enjoying the moment. Skin to skin with the man you love most in the world.

“I’ll miss carrying Lily I really will. But I can’t wait to be able to fuck in normal positions” you told him interlocking your fingers with his, Art laughed

“I’ll miss seeing you carry her, it’s so beautiful I can’t even explain it. I can’t believe you grew her inside of you.” Art expressed moving his hard to your belly. Time and time again he was telling you how thankful he was for making him a dad and doing all the heavy lifting. You couldn’t imagine anyone better to be doing this with.

“Well we’re gonna have to give Lily a sibling at some point so don’t worry it won’t be the last time” you winked, already thinking about carrying more of Arts babies. He smiled at you in awe.

“Are you ready to go again?” You looked back at him, he looked kind of surprised but wasn’t arguing he just nodded. The rest of the afternoon you had multiple rounds of slow hot side by side afternoon sex, you couldn’t get enough of your husband. You secretly hoped maybe he would fuck the baby right out of you because you were ready to not be pregnant.

After one final round in the shower you and Art were curled up in your bed watching a movie and enjoying a pizza that he definitely shouldn’t have had but was gonna let it slide for one night because he was too tired to make anything. You cherished every second being in his arms realizing soon it wouldn’t just be the two of you.

[ruskaroma]

ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 1: written in blood.

Warnings: this series will include highly disturbing/dark topics such as stalking, unhealthy obsession, graphic descriptions of violence, blood and gore, manipulation, gaslighting, large age gap, emotional/psychological abuse, dom/sub undertones, bad BDSM etiquette, etc.

this is a dark fic, written in john's pov and a glimpse of how his mind works. if you still continue to read and get triggered, that is not my responsibility.

Summary: John finds himself a new obsession.

Author's note: this is my first ever fanfic for this fandom and i am beyond excited to share this with you guys! though i must say before you begin, english is not my first language and there might be a few errors in my writing here and there, so i apologize in advance.

but either way, i still hope you enjoy this piece, and i can assure you that once i finish writing this series there will be more to come! i really enjoy writing john wick be a merciless bastard who kills everything that breathes, and i hope you enjoy it too as much as i did.

please, please, PLEASE tell me what you think in the comment and reblogs and likes would be so appreciated. it motivates me to write even more :)

(also this is not edited so all mistakes are on me and i apologize)

Word count: 8.1k

also read on ao3.

It’s one of those days again.

The sound of his watch ticking is the only thing keeping his car from being too quiet. His eyes watch every single movement of his target, never leaving his sight. It won’t be too long for John to finally strike, he just doesn’t want too many civilians seeing the horror that’s about to happen right before their very eyes.

His mind is thinking of many things he could do with this target in particular. A lowlife thug that got himself involved with a very dangerous Italian mob, but then again that’s not the reason why John’s murderous intent is at its peak at the moment.

He’s angry at something, he just doesn’t know what. And this target of his isn’t helping his situation at all. Reading his criminal record made John think this could be a chance to cure his boredom. This man is not only a sex trafficker, but also a pedophile who has a history of targeting teenagers to rape and sell to the black market that’s as fucked up as him.

He doesn’t normally take his time thinking of ways to kill his targets. He points, shoots, leaves. This one in particular though, got him facing a side of him that John himself doesn’t want to face.

He would start by breaking every single one of the man’s fingers. And if that doesn’t do any justice, he’ll cut them off.

One by one, let the man savor the feeling, let John relish the nightmare.

He could slit the man’s throat, watch as life drains away from his body, watch as the man clings to his legs for mercy. John could even pull out the man’s dick, step on it, fucking cut it off and shove it so far down his own throat that he couldn’t scream for help if he tried.

It’s John’s version of Colombian Necktie. A classic, only ever tried it out four times, hopefully this would be the fifth.

John is never the one to take pleasure in killing people, but these past few months have proved him otherwise.

Maybe it’s because of Helen’s death, and the way he was basically forced to sculpt the demons he buried back into himself. His only remaining bit of humanity was taken from him, and he’s coping in the most unhealthy way possible. Perhaps Winston was right about dipping his pinky a little too much into the pond, but it was inevitable.

John has gone back to his old ways. Taking contracts here and there to distract himself from the void in his heart. He remembers how burying a knife into someone’s throat for the first time in many years has ignited something in him he didn’t even know he had.

That’s why he’s here, exiting his car in a swift move, following his target as quietly as possible into a narrow alleyway that stinks of garbage in piss. This would be a nice place to kill a guy like him – right where he belongs.

John’s movements are so discreet the man couldn’t even sense him until John wrapped his right arm around his neck and his other hand went to cover the man’s mouth. He walks them both to the back of a building as the man struggles, where John’s sure no more people are present, and he kicks him on the jaw to stop the man from making any more noises.

John can make this quick. Pull out his gun and blow his brains out. But there’s that sinister glint in his mind that’s telling him to do something unimaginable – grotesque even – a death a man like him deserves.

The man tries to swing his arm at John but misses pathetically. The poor guy’s already shaking and John hasn’t even begun.

John doesn’t respond to the pitiful attempts of questioning who he is and who sent him here, he simply pulls his knife from his pocket and wastes no time slashing it against the man’s throat, the blood spraying all over his face. The man tries to stop it by shakily covering the deep cut with his hand, but it’s useless.

He’s gargling, choking on his own blood, and John’s watching it all unravel with a familiar glint in his eyes.

John is contemplating if he should follow the plan he made in his head or just leave it like this. Somehow, the sight looks rather incomplete to him. He knows what he’s done is not enough, but that could be just the rage talking. The man’s already dead, and surely cutting off his dick and shoving it so far down his throat it comes out of the wound would leave an ugly reputation on his name. 

Would that be a good thing? John is already feared enough, would it be a good thing to make people fear him even more? But then again, this won’t be the first time he’s done it. Doing it again one more time wouldn’t make any difference.

He glances down at the dead body on his feet before he kneels down to do the unforgivable.

Slicing off a man’s cock is easy. Too easy. John’s knife is perfectly sharpened and stoned, he merely uses any strength to cut it off. The sight is so fucking ugly, too much blood, but nothing he can’t handle.

Once that’s done, John uses his other hand to force the dead man’s jaw open, immediately greeted by the foul stench of blood as he shoves the unpleasant dick into the man’s open mouth. The genitalia is definitely not long enough to reach the throat, but that won’t be any problem for John.

He grits his teeth as he forces his hand in there, not bothering to care even if the jaw breaks and the hole becomes even wider, his goal is the only thing in his mind.

The blood continues to drip and he has never been so grateful for wearing an all black uniform for this occasion. Soon enough, after a few minutes of such a brutal wrongdoing, John sees the tip of the cock reaching the deep wound on the man’s throat as it continues to peak its way out.

A sick, small smile spreads across John’s face. The smile is barely there, but he’s fucking enjoying this more than he’d like to admit. He can only imagine how the news would spread across the assassin underworld like a wildfire.

The Boogeyman’s back in business and he’s scarier than ever.

Perhaps this might be the way to lay his point across. This is a way to show them that it was not a good idea pissing him off, killing what’s his, and bringing him back in business. They’d regret it, but it would be already too late for that.

John uses his other hand to pull the cock right out of the man’s throat but not completely. Half of it is hanging out and John thinks he could even consider this as a masterpiece. There’d be flies and maggots that would make the scenery better, but the cleaning service is there for a reason. He can’t just not use it.

John stands up from his position, pocketing his knife back into his pocket before retrieving his phone with the other. He dials a number, waits for them to pick up, all while admiring his work on the ground.

His previous contracts these past few months all ended in such an unimaginable, ugly way. He figured that by showing them that he’s capable of such brutality, it would increase the numbers of people calling him in for more jobs, because this is exactly what they wanted. They wanted Baba Yaga, the ruthless killer of the underworld who stops at nothing to finish his job, and he’s simply giving it to them.

Someone picks up the call and he straightens his posture, checking the time on his watch before speaking.

“This is Wick. John Wick, yes. I would like to make a dinner reservation for one.”

The news spread faster than anticipated.

The notorious man John Wick, the hot topic of the criminal underworld at the moment, even gained the attention of The High Table, and it all happened in the span of one day. That’s how quick the news spread amongst his fellow assassins, though that’s exactly what he was going for.

John expected it so he isn’t surprised when he receives a call from Charon saying Winston wants to meet him.

He inserts a coin in the door and the small window opened briefly. The guy on the other side immediately recognized him, not wasting a single moment to open the door and let the man of the hour in. All eyes are on him the moment he steps into the club, but no one dared to murmur anything to anybody – not when the man himself is here.

They know better.

John spots Winston at his usual spot drinking his usual order, signaling John to sit beside him where a glass of bourbon is already present. 

“Jonathan,” Winston greets, raising his glass. “We have a lot to talk about, don’t we?”

“I figured,” John replies, though not interested. He slides himself to the booth and takes a sip of his own drink. “I don’t understand why though.”

“Are we really playing this game, Jonathan?” The manager raises a brow. 

“I was just doing my job.”

“In a way you don’t normally do,” Winston then adds. “Or should I say, in a way you don’t even do.”

John gives him a look, but he could tell Winston doesn’t know how to interpret it. His face remains emotionless, not letting the mask slip and grant Winston the privilege to take a peak. John will continue to play this game until he’s satisfied, until he feels something again. Surely he’ll find what he’s looking for while doing the only thing he’s ever good at – slaughtering.

“Let’s just say I was trying out a new technique,” John says, voice deep and almost sinister. Winston’s scared, though he doesn’t show it, John knows. 

“I have known you ever since you started, Jonathan. Not once did it cross my mind you would do something so.. horrifying as this. You discarded the body like he was some sort of pig, so believe me when I say I couldn’t believe it at first.”

John has no idea why Winston’s whining about him being horrifying, when that’s all they’ve been saying about him ever since he joined. He didn’t gain this reputation for no reason, now he’s just simply showing them what more he’s capable of.

“You should’ve seen his record.” His tone is menacing, swirling the drink in his hand as he stares deeply at Winston’s eyes. “He’s worse than a pig.”

The drop of the curse word takes Winston by surprise. “So is that what it is, then? You killed him that way because you think he deserved it?”

“Not really,” John simply sighs, leaning back on the leather seat as he takes another sip of his bourbon. He really isn’t planning on staying longer, but Winston seems to be taking his sweet time asking him a bunch of stupid questions. “I couldn’t care less of what he’s done. I was simply… bored. Saying that I did that because I think he deserved it gives people a reason to think that what I did was justifiable.”

The look on Winston’s face says enough. He’s afraid of John, afraid of what he has become. Hearing John say he did such an unforgiving thing just because he was bored is beyond frightening. No man has ever inflicted so much fear on him before – at least not until John.

“I think we’re done for tonight,” Winston finally says, not wanting to hear any more disturbing thoughts of John, but he remains polite and calm for the sake of their friendship. “You have a good night, Jonathan.”

John gives him a nod, standing up from his seat and downing his drink in one go. “Goodnight, Winston.”

He exits the club with an eerie aura following behind him, not caring about the way people are looking at him like he’s got Death himself walking beside him.

It makes him wonder that maybe death doesn’t follow him after all.

Maybe it is him.

Someone offered him five million to fuck up a man who allegedly stole a fuck ton of kilograms of cocaine from their warehouse, and really, who is John to decline the offer?

Hunting the man is easy. It didn’t even take a day to locate where the man lives, and John’s already breaking into his apartment to shoot the guy and leave. There’s no point in rummaging the place for the cocaine, all of it is already up the man’s system by the looks of it, and killing him is John’s job.

John wants to finish this one fast, he’s got other business to attend to. As he backs up the frightened, pathetic excuse for a man against the wall, he takes his gun out of his holster and aims directly at the head, right between the eyes, and he watches in great pleasure as the residue of his brains splatter against the walls and the floor.

This man didn’t even put up a fight. John thinks this is a waste of time.

He exits the apartment with disappointment heavy on his shoulders, slamming the door shut. Although the gun he used has a silencer, the rooms are too close to each other. He’s sure there might be other people who heard the shot of his firearm.

The apartment building is located at the filthy side of New York, where most known drug dealers and junkies do their nasty deals. It’s no surprise that as soon as John steps a foot out of the worn out building, all eyes are on him, but mainly on the clothes he’s wearing. They’re planning on mugging him out, and John would like to see them try.

Just as he’s about to walk to his car, his phone rings abruptly in his chest pocket. He retrieves it in one swift motion, not noticing that a gold coin fell out as he does so, and he continues walking to not waste any more time.

“Sir! Excuse me, sir, you dropped something!” John hears from behind. He doesn’t bother looking.

The call isn’t nearly as important as the business he needs to attend to, so he hangs up the call and pushes his phone back into his pocket. As soon as he does that, he feels a small hand touching his shoulder.

John’s hand immediately flies to wrap his large hand around the person’s wrist, turning around to see a young woman with a bewildered expression on her pretty face, little fingers holding his golden coin that looks far too big on her hand.

She looks scared, terrified, and oh how fucking awful that makes John feel. Like he’s been punched right in the fucking gut. He’s enthralled.

“I wasn’t–you dropped it and I’m just giving it to you, I promise!”

She’s looking at John with big, doe eyes. She also looks freshly showered, wrapped in a black puffy jacket that makes her even smaller than she already is. John lets his eyes linger on her lips, so plump and glossy. Her voice sounds sweet, soft, something John isn’t used to hearing.

John can’t help but to stare.

“Are you–are you gonna let me go, mister?”

The way she stutters triggers a hot feeling in John’s guts, and can’t help but to rub his thumb on the girl’s dainty wrist before slowly letting her go.

So delicate, he could snap them in half.

“Sorry,” John apologizes, taking the coin from her hold, and his fingers itch at the way her skin feels so soft against his rough hands. “Force of habit.”

“It’s okay,” she smiles a little, and there goes that hot curl in John’s stomach once again. “That thing looks expensive so be careful next time.”

Just like that, John doesn’t get the chance to reply back. She makes her leave and patters away from him, and he watches. He watches until she’s out of the view, taking a turn to a corner, leaving John with something he can’t quite figure out yet, but he soon will be.

For the first time in a while, he feels something new.

Suddenly, everything is too good to be true.

John will find himself staring at his hands for too long, still feeling the ghost of her soft skin on his fingers, fantasizing about her pretty face and soft, plump lips.

It’s scary for him to feel something again because that only means destruction. John likes to believe he has a gift of ruining everything he touches, especially the pure ones – like her. It’s a proven statement. Just look at Helen and Daisy.

This little one won’t be any different, he’s sure of it. John’s whole body is heating up everytime he thinks about her. The look on her face when she saw John’s chilling expression, her wide eyes, so glossy and innocent.

John wants to see her again.

His fingers itch, yearning to touch her again. 

Why he’s suddenly interested in a young woman he just met a few days ago, he has no idea. John’s a bit confusing – fucked up, even. He long accepted the fact that his mind is nowhere near healthy years ago. He tried to push those thoughts away when he met Helen, but now he’s out of his shell and back in business, there’s no need to.

He’s always been one of the wolves, and now that he’s laid his eyes on his next meal, he will make sure there’s not a single thing that will get in his way to hunt her down.

He had a crisis for two days before doing the unexpected. It didn’t take long for John to find her. 

Now, John has been following her around for a week, and he noticed a certain pattern his little one likes to follow as she goes on her day.

The very place where they met is where she lives, surrounded by a bunch of goons who have no idea what to do with their lives. John begins to wonder why she’s living in a place like that. He could take her, put her somewhere safe, under his care and protection. Make sure no one will dare to lay a finger on her.

John knows where she works. At a veterinary clinic not too far from her apartment, which is why she walks to work every three in the afternoon, but not without stopping by in her favorite deli and getting a large order of her favorite sandwich. She’s a part-timer. She’d be at school from seven to twelve, and at work from three to eight.

John finds the little things she does amusing. He’d be seated in a cafe right across from her work, watching how she moves around her office through a big window, petting and cooing at the animals who come and go.

She’s so perfect, so pure, so naive. She has no idea that a monster is lurking ten feet away from her, watching her every move like a hawk, thinking about the ways he could destroy her, make her his.

John is not delusional. He’s fully aware of what he’s doing and he’s aware of what people might call him. 

Stalker.

Creep.

They don’t know him though. They don’t know why he acts this way. They’d do the same if they were him, that’s for sure. He’s not the bad guy here, he’s simply just protecting her little one, even from afar. John went as far as destroying a whole Russian Bratva for a mere puppy and a car, he’d do even worse if she’s somehow taken away from him.

John sees her exiting the building and his first thought is to follow her. He stands up from his seat, the cup of coffee long forgotten as he makes his way out of the café and keeps a safe distance between the two of them. It’s risky, especially in the broad daylight, but John knows she’s too oblivious to notice.

She’s with her friends this time, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by John how she clings at the shirt of her co-worker as they cross the street, small hands fisting at the fabric. He thinks about how he won’t ever let go of her hand once she’s his. He’s not big on physical affection, having to grow up with no parents and a rather strict orphanage, but maybe he could be gentle. Engulf her hand in his, stroke it with his thumb, tuck her hair behind her ears, show everyone that she’s already owned.

They wouldn’t dare to lay their hands on her again.

John walks in the middle of the sidewalk, not bothering to move away despite seeing people approaching. He doesn’t need to, the look in his face is enough for people to give him the way. It’s interrupted however, when someone does try to get in his way, placing a hand on his chest and pushing him back a little.

John clenches his jaw, pissed. He takes his eyes from his little one and on the person who so rudely interrupted what he’s doing – it’s Marcus.

“John? I was just looking for you at the Continental.” Marcus has a small smile on his face, clearly not aware of John’s expression.

His eyes dart behind Marcus, where his little one is supposed to be, but she’s gone. John feels something curl in his stomach, his fingers itching again, eyes rapidly searching for her in the sea of people.

He looks at Marcus again, deciding he’ll just find her later, but he worries that something might happen to her now that John’s attention isn’t on her.

“Why?” he almost snaps, voice deep and laced with no emotion.

“Why? Because it’s been quite some time, John. I haven’t heard from you since the Iosef situation, but I did hear you’re back in business,” Marcus replies, but when he sees how distracted John looks, his voice falters. “You working?”

“Yeah.” The lie comes off smoothly. “I’ll see you around.”

John taps Marcus’ shoulder, trying to sound as polite as possible even though he badly wants to break a couple of his teeth for taking his attention away from her. He knows Marcus is probably noticing something, but John’s never the one to care.

Marcus drops the subject. “Alright, John. I’ll see you around.”

With that, John disappears in the crowd with no looking back.

It’s been awhile since John last took a job.

He can’t seem to take his eyes away from his little one. He can’t stop fucking stalking her from morning to night time.

John’s afraid that once he takes his attention from her even for a second, something bad might happen to her. It’s engraved in his mind that she can’t protect herself and he’s solely there to be the protector.

No one would understand. He’s doing this for her own good.

John’s absence at the Continental doesn’t go unnoticed by Winston and Charon. They’re his favorite, after all. Watch his every move carefully ever since that ugly murder John did. Perhaps he could make his next kill even uglier. To them, it’s vile and grotesque. For John, it’s special and unique.

This time, it took a good self-beating before John decided to take a contract. Three million to hunt down a rival crime lord, nothing he can’t handle, but somehow it brings an unusual feeling on his shoulder he isn’t fond of. Perhaps because John’s leaving his little one for a while and he isn’t quite sure what to feel. Worried and pissed – but mostly worried.

That is why he hired someone to trail his little one on his behalf. Everyone in business would do anything for a coin despite how fucked up disturbing it is. John offered a generous amount of coins to keep the assassin’s mouth shut, but he also held him at gunpoint and gave him a good talk before he sent the dog out in the field.

His only job is to keep an eye on her, report everything he’ll see to John, and maybe even take pictures for safety purposes.

John has been overseas in the last three days, and everything that’s been sent to him has been his only form of entertainment. There’s videos of her giggling with her friends, videos and photos of her in the library, outside her school, her work, and even in her apartment. There’s also information sent to him about the background of her friends – every single one of them, because John didn’t pay so much for nothing.

There’s one particular friend that ticks off John in all the worst way possible. He’s young, around her age, and the way he hugs and touches her just fucking sets him off. John wants to break his fingers in half. He reminds himself that once he’s home, he’ll make sure to take care of that boy himself.

“What else have you got?” John questions through the phone, and it doesn’t take long for his precious dog to respond.

“Oh, he is one creepy motherfucker. I’m starting to understand why you’re so riled up with this guy, boss. The urge to strangle him every time he gets in the picture gets stronger and stronger everyday.” He hears a laugh at the other end. The guy that’s working for him – Alex, if he remembers correctly – is young, new in business, knows not to fuck with John so he keeps his job adequate. If Alex ever notice how fucked up John is for making him follow a young woman to keep his life in order, he doesn’t say anything about it. “Just tell me when I can shoot this guy and I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

“Leave him. Keep an eye on him, but don’t kill him,” John advises, his tone leaving no room for discussion. “I’ll handle him myself when I get back. For the meantime, focus on Y/N and keep any troubles out of her way. Fail that task and I’d serve your head hot on a platter.”

“You got it, boss.”

John is playing nicely.

He’s not going to force his way into her life. He’s gonna be welcomed, with open arms, desired.

There are times he’d thought about giving in to his desperation and act with his dick instead of his head. There are times he’d thought about following her to a dark street, where no one’s around, he’s on the prowl and ready to pounce. He’d put a fabric against her mouth and nose, laced with enough chemicals to make her pass out and for him to carry her in his car with no problems whatsoever. John thinks about how he’d make it look like he’s just picking up his very drunk and passed out girlfriend and no one would know a goddamn thing.

John would keep her in his house where she won’t need anything but him. 

But of course, he’s not that cruel.

They’re only thoughts. Thoughts that he tries hard to keep away, but at the end of the day he reminds himself that he’s better than that.

John is not going to force his way into her life.

He’ll make sure to get her addicted enough to come crawling at his feet herself. She’ll be dependent on him, won’t be able to live without him. John will make sure his plan will go out smoothly or otherwise he’ll be the one bringing Hell with him on this land and seek as much havoc as he possibly can.

The death emissary himself will strike tonight.

A Friday night out with her friends has John on high alert. That’ll only mean she’s constantly surrounded with people, god knows what could happen if John even takes his eyes off her for a second. He lurks on the side, blending himself with the crowd as much as he can all while keeping his gaze on her. 

He doesn’t need any drugs to keep his mind insane, because the sight of a specific man getting very close to what’s his is enough to make him visualize all the ugly and twisted ways to kill a man.

She’s wearing a thin silky dress that’s low on her cleavage and shows her perky breasts. She’s currently the flame in a room full of moths, John included. Everyone’s eyes are on her, observing the way she sways her hips and sings along to the loud music – John’s fingers itch.

The itch to kill is back again, driving into his veins, his hands twitch on the table. John wants to pull out his gun and shoot everyone in this fucking room. He wants to stab them in the eyes one by one and make them feed it to themselves. He wants to grab this guy on the neck and slam his head against the wall repeatedly until his brain scatter all over the fucking place and there’s nothing left for him to ruin.

This guy is getting on his fucking nerves.

John watches as the man smoothly brings his arm on her shoulder, whispering something in her ear that doesn’t make her look so impressed. In fact, she looks disturbed, uncomfortable, tense. Despite the guy being her friend, John could tell she doesn’t feel comfortable with the way he’s showing her affection.

It’s hard to see her like this, but he knows he can’t just jump in between the two of them and beat the shit out of the guy until he chokes on his own blood. He’ll have to wait, maybe after this party, he’ll strike and discard the body in a way that’ll make even Winston spook in his sleep. It’s not a major offense to kill a man that’s not in the game anyway – or at least that’s what John tells himself.

This guy wouldn’t be able to be three feet near his little one once John’s done with him. He’ll be six feet under.

John sees her swiftly moving away from his touch, trying to make her rejection look as polite as possible, which receives a not-so-amused reaction from her little friend.

This guy doesn’t deserve her at all. No one does. Except maybe John, but that’s because he knows he’s capable of actually taking care of her and keeping her safe. Nobody would understand what he feels, what he yearns, what he wants.

Good girl, John thinks. Walk away.

His gaze follow her as she makes her way to the backdoor and out to the cold air of the city. John follows in a hurry, keeping a safe distance between the two of them, then opens the door as quietly as possible so he wouldn’t let his presence known.

There are a few people on the street, either having a smoke break or making out against the piss stained wall, but she stays just beside the busy road as she wraps her arms around herself.

His gaze burn daggers on her exposed back, the urge to cover her up with his jacket and take her home. A drunk man comes stumbling out of the club, accidentally tripping over his steps and he pushes her hard enough to make her yelp as her heels lose balance and almost making herself get run over by a passing truck.

Almost.

Everything happens so fast. One moment John is standing five feet from her, the next is he’s grasping her wrists in his hand and pulling her back to her feet and dragging her back to the curb. He was already on the act once he saw the man exiting the club, he knew exactly this would happen.

The scene looks strangely familiar, one John could never forget. The same position, same hand placement, same rough fingers around her wrist and dark eyes boring into hers – their very first meeting.

“You!” she gasps, not caring about the fact that she almost just got hit by a fucking truck. “I know you! You’re the guy outside my apartment that day! What are you doing here?”

John stares. Predictable. Of course she’s talking to him like they’ve known each other for years. She’s too friendly.

“Hello to you too,” John replies, though his tone is blank as well as his face. “You remember me.”

“‘Course I do,” she giggles, a little tipsy, pupils dilated and licking her lips nervously. “You’re pretty hard to forget. I remember asking my neighbors around the area if you’re new there, turns out you were just visiting.”

John furrows his brows, hand still not letting go of her wrist. What does she mean by she’s asked around the area about him?

His face must’ve looked confused, he sees her grinning childishly. “It’s a coincidence that I see you again!”

Not a coincidence, but fate.

John doesn’t believe in a lot of things, but he believes in fate. Fate brought him Helen, and now fate is bringing him another angel. If she really went as far as asking the neighborhood about his existence, then it must be fate.

“I’m Y/N. I figured if we keep bumping into each other then you should at least know my name,” she says, completely oblivious that John already knows everything that has to be known about her. From her little mannerisms to the last name of her fucking grandmother. “May I know yours or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“It’s John,” he gulps, not wanting to look like a loser in front of her, not after everything he went through for her. “It’s really nice to see you again.”

He sucks at this. He fucking sucks at this.

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way. What brings you here?”

It hangs in the air, John lets go of her wrist. Luckily, he thinks fast enough and says the first thing that comes to his mind. “Work.”

“Ah, work,” she nods. “You work here? In the club? What are you, a bouncer or something?”

“I don’t. Someone I work with is in the club.” A lie, but it’s not like she would know. “We had a talk.”

“Not really a man of words, eh?” she raises an eyebrow teasingly. 

“This is the most words I’ve said in the past few days,” John says. “I’d say you’re special.”

The look on her face is enough to make his entire night even better. Blushing, lips opening and closing, not knowing what to say. John wants to graze his thumb on her lips, thinking about how good it would feel stretching over his cock.

He blinks. Where did that come from?

“For someone who doesn’t talk much, you sure make it sound smooth when you do. Are you always this slick, John?” she giggles again, music to his ear. “That’s actually better than what I heard from my friend earlier, so thank you.”

“That’s good to know.”

Before she could say anything back, the door of the club opens once again and her friends appear, waving a hand at her and beckoning her to get inside. She looks at John, gives him a sympathetic look, as if apologizing that their talk gets cut off too soon.

“I’m really sorry but my friends want me back in there. Hopefully we can continue this again, yeah?” she smiles cheekily, tucking her hair behind her ear. “If you want, you could give me your number so we can talk someplace else? You know… with no one bothering us and all that.”

There it is. John didn’t think it would be this easy to sink the hook in. All he needs to do is pull and take what’s meant to be his.

“Sure.” He enters his number swiftly, feeling that familiar burn in his guts once again when he sees the wallpaper being her pretty face. “Feel free to message me whenever you want. I’ll make time for you.”

She looks at her phone and smiles before starting to walk away from him, waving a hand goodbye, but it doesn’t feel like a goodbye. John knows it isn’t. She’s already his the moment she started talking to him again.

“Of course! Get home safe, John! I’ll see you soon!” 

“You too.”

She doesn’t know John won’t be heading home any time soon until he knows she’s safe and sound in her apartment.

Jay Lopez.

The name burns on his tongue. Bitter and resentful. He stares at the photos his precious dog sent to him and he has to stop the impulse to burn every single one of them.

Jay Lopez is the guy that’s been leeching on his girl since the dawn of time, and thankfully John is here to put an end to it. 

He’s hideous. It’s interesting how John stooped this low that he’d be willing to kill a college student for being too near his little bambi, but alas, he’s never the one to care for such things. Morals and righteousness have never been in his book, not now, nor ever.

It’s only a matter of time until he gets rid of this pest. He’s fucking creepy, follows around not only Y/N but a bunch of other women. 

John doesn’t want his death to be quick and simple. He wants to do it in an ugly way, make sure his body will never be found, make sure he’ll never get to lay his hands and eyes on what’s his. The way Jay stares at her in these pictures ignites something evil within John’s veins. It’s been awhile since he felt something like this.

“Alex.” he looks at his pet standing by the door, waiting for the next command. “Bring him to me alive.”

“Can I at least rough him up a bit?”

John doesn’t answer at first, looks back at the photos on his table. “Do what you want, just make sure he’s still breathing when you bring him here.”

“On it, boss.”

Truth be told, John doesn’t need a pet to order around for this job. He has himself – a labeled attack dog of the Tarasovs for years, their hellhound, chained and muzzled unless they need him to kill. He’s a one man army as some would say, he doesn’t need Alex running around doing tasks for him, but it sure does make the job a lot faster.

It’s not a way to downgrade his reputation nor skills to hunt, he really just needs this Jay guy gone as fast as possible.

On the same day, Alex manages to haul a very brutally violated Jay to the floor of his basement. He stinks, pants wet from piss and a face John is having a hard time recognizing.

“You said rough him up a bit, not make him look unrecognizable.”

“Same thing.”

Jay is sobbing his eyes out, his cries of pleas falls to deaf ears and John just wants to fucking bash his skull with his own foot. “W-who are you guys?! What the f-fuck did I do?! Get me out of here or I’ll tell the fucking police–”

John kicks him on the chin hard to stop the goon from rambling. “You’re not telling anybody any shit, tough guy.”

“So, what are you planning to do to him? Can I watch?”

“Can you handle it?”

Alex shrugs. He’s in the presence of the most dangerous assassin in the underworld, wouldn’t hurt to learn anything from his skills and techniques, doesn’t matter how fucked up it is.

John nods towards the chainsaw sitting at the corner of the room, and Alex turns to face him with wide eyes. “Jesus Christ, man. You serious? Last time I heard you’re a hitman, not a serial killer.”

“Same qualifications. Same thing.” John grabs the man by the arm then drags him to a chair. He takes a rope from the table and swiftly ties him up securely. “We start with the head, then arms and legs. It would be hard to put his entire body in a drum full of acid, so we need to cut him off one by one.”

Alex looks like he’s about to run off somewhere safe from what he’s witnessing. “You’re talking like you’ve done this before, holy fuck.”

John gives him a look, and Alex immediately shuts his mouth. Right. He’d done this before. This is completely normal.

“I’ve been following you for a while, Jay. You’re a creep who befriends pretty girls, then you’ll drug them and make them have sex with you,” John taunts, the sound of his heels hitting the concrete floor is enough to send shivers down his spine. “Is that what you’re also planning to do with Y/N? Be her friend and fuck her once she’s drugged up and vulnerable?”

It’s a bold statement coming from John himself since he’s no better man than Jay, but at least his intentions come from a different place.

“You-you’re fucking sick!” Jay spits.

“I’m sick? I’m not the one going around making girls uncomfortable now, am I?” he picks up the chainsaw, then watches in enjoyment as Jay widens his eyes in fear. “We’re going to have a lot of fun, Jay. You won’t be able to use your pathetic little dick of yours to any woman ever again, and most importantly –”

John fires up the chainsaw, adrenaline coursing through his veins when he sees the horrified look in the man’s face as he tries to get up and scream for help.

“I can finally sleep well at night knowing you’re not in Y/N’s life anymore.”

As John steps into the light, a roaring chainsaw in his hands, Alex could only watch in horror as the basement gets painted with blood in mere seconds.

There’s a vacant apartment just across her room, giving John the perfect view of what she’s doing while she’s alone.

Most of the time, John will pull up a seat beside the window and take pictures. The other half of the time is just him staring, observing. It seems that she’s too comfortable knowing there’s no one across the building so she doesn’t close the curtains, leaving John no choice but to keep his eyes on her.

He found this place just three days after following her. He couldn’t help it. Following her to school and work suddenly wasn’t enough for John that he had to find a way to somehow watch her even in her sleep. 

He should be ashamed of himself. He should feel guilty for what he’s doing – he should stop, but he just can’t. John’s already done too much. This is like being pulled back into the underworld all over again but this time, there’s something good that’s waiting for him on the other side.

Maybe it’s the delusion that comes with it that’s not stopping John from whatever he’s doing. Lately, he’s been thinking about how life would turn out to be if his plan goes out smoothly. They’d live happily ever after, she would end up loving him just the way he planned it out to be, and John will make sure no one will ever dare to take those peace away from him again.

He’d make sure no one will ever come close to her again once she’s his. She’d be isolated but protected. Just how John likes it.

It’s been two days since John gave his number, but he knows she’s just giddy and nervous to text him. He’d seen her staring at her phone, biting her bottom lip anxiously, thinking if it would be a good idea or not. He knows she’ll give in one way or another because he sees it in her face. She’s too easy, too gullible, too naive.

She’s lonely, just like him.

John could tell she’s waiting for someone – she’s desperate, no wonder she asked for his number the second time they met. She wants someone to take care of her, to hold her, tell her that she deserves the world. That someone is John whether she likes it or not.

This isn’t just any unhealthy obsession. John finds himself too deep to get out. He knows her little mannerisms, studied her every action, has a red room full of her pictures and no one can’t say he’s not ready to give up anything for her. John has already given up his sanity ever since he mutilated a man for being too close to her.

She’s his life now, his everything.

John watches intensely as she shreds her clothes in her room, baring him the full view of herself naked, and John grips the side of his chair too hard his knuckles turn white. This is the first time he’d seen her naked, it’s so sudden and so… perfect.

His cock fattens in his pants as he observes every curve of her body. Her waist is fucking perfect and her body is thick yet delicate. John thinks about bruising her sensitive skin, leaving a mark that will show everyone that she’s owned. He would love to see her in a collar, hear it jingle when she crawls. 

She’s completely fucking naked that John wonder just how naive she is to think there would be no one seeing her like this. What if John isn’t the only one watching her? What if somebody else sees her like this? His fingers itch, jaw clenching.

He’d kill them. He’d kill them in front of her, and the thought somehow made his cock hard even more. He grimaces, disturbed at the reaction of his body.

John doesn’t really understand the sexual aspects of killing, but now he’s thinking about how she would react if she sees him working. He’d kill someone in front of her and he’d see the look of disgust and betrayal in her face. He can already imagine how her eyes would well up with tears and fuck, his dick shouldn’t be this hard.

She’d fear him, and John would be turned on. How fucked up would that be? Just how fucked up can his mind get?

He resists the urge to wrap his hand around his cock because fuck no. He would not stoop this low, he is not a teenage boy. No matter how strong the thoughts get, the thoughts of wrapping his own hand around her neck, squeezing it hard and cutting off her airflow as John forces his cock in her cunt, hearing her mewl and scream and beg to just –

John sucks in air, eyes back on her in her room, wrapping a robe around herself and heading to the bathroom. This is fucked up. His cock is incredibly hard and leaking, and his mind won’t stop thinking about how good her pussy would feel around him.

He’d talk her through it. Whisper sweet nothings in her ear as she releases around her cock, praising her for being such a good girl. Then he’d fuck her again, in a different position, debauching her in different ways not even the devil himself could think of.

John would ruin her, and she will have no choice but to accept it.

He brings his hand to his face as he sighs deeply. He wonders what Helen would feel of what he’s doing. Disgusted, no doubt. This is not the same man she fell in love with years ago. He would never do something like this, but fate has its plans, and John believes everything happens for a reason.

She was brought into his life for a reason and it’s up to him whether he takes.

John doesn’t realize that he’s been staring at nothing for too long until she comes back in his view once again. Her hair is still wet, still wrapped up in a fluffy pink robe, and John’s fingers itch to grab, squeeze, possess.

He sees her picking up her phone, staring for a moment before her fingers start typing. John has been anticipating this moment for so long, the time has finally come.

In his chest pocket, his phone buzz silently, the vibration sending excitement in his whole body.

There it is.

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM UNKNOWN NUMBER : also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

There it fucking is.

John’s lips curl into a small smile. His efforts are finally paying off. 

All he needs to do is to get what’s his.

[anawrites3]

Dick getting turned into a bunny and taking the opportunity to annoy the hell out of Slade. Slade knows its Dick, but not anyone else. So you see this big mean merc with a bunny perched on his shoulder.

Extended version on ao3

"I'm going to kill Constantine." Slade muttered to himself, dragging a hand down his face.

Dick – excuse him, Dick in a body of a fucking bunny – flicked one of his ears at him. He kept crunching happily at the carrot Slade gave him, giving Slade a blissful break from him running all over his safehouse. Of course Grayson's ADHD only intensified after getting turned into a fucking bunny.

It's been four days. Four fucking days and they still didn't have a way to turn Dick back into a human. So, what it meant was that for the past four days Dick had been annoying the hell out of Slade while having the time of his life himself. At this point Slade considered throwing him out onto the streets or just simply giving him away to the Bat but he didn't feel like bothering with the consequences of it (read: dealing with annoyed Grayson).

That still didn't mean he had to be happy about the whole thing.

"I hope you're aware that I'll make you pay for all of this when you're back to normal." Slade promised. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the wall. "I'm going to fuck stupid ideas out of you."

Dick dropped the carrot, his little nose twitching.

------

Slade had a job to do. He had a job to do that he couldn't put off any longer but he also had his boyfriend turned into a bunny that didn't want to stay in the safehouse like a good boy (that he very much wasn't). Dick actually bit him when he tried to lock him up in the bedroom so Slade didn't have any other option than take Dick with him.

"Behave." Slade growled out when Dick began running around the rooftop they were placed on, two buildings away from where his mark was sitting. "I will let you fall if you decide to jump off."

Dick sent him a look that ever in a bunny body Slade was able to recognize as No, you won't but he did calmed down just a bit. Slade sighed again but trusted him to not die and came back to preparing his rifle. It was a simple work, just scaring his target a little which was the only reason why he allowed Dick to come.

He was able to put up with a lot of things but he didn't think he'd be able to survive Nightwing trying to mess up his contract as a fucking bunny.

Thankfully, Dick didn't try anything stupid this time. He ran around the rooftop a few more times, obnoxiously happy just to be outside after a few days of being forced to stay in the safehouse and then he jumped onto Slade's back and curled there for a nap.

"That's a really awful place to be right now." Slade told him, aiming.

Dick ignored him. So, Slade pulled the trigger and didn't even feel bad when Dick fell off of his back from the recoil force.

------

"Fuck! Fuck, that's Deathstro-"

The thug cut off sharply, his gaze focusing on the bunny perched on Deathstroke's shoulder. His friends stopped, alarmed by the way he froze and looked towards Slade as well.

One of them began to laugh.

"Shut the fuck up!" The first one hissed, punching him strongly in the arm.

Slade watched it all happen in a bored fashion, though he was beginning to get annoyed really fast. Dick nosed at his cheek through the mask.

"Sorry, sorry, I can't-!" He covered his lips with a hand though he continued laughing, so hard that he threw his head back. "I just-! Look at him!"

"I-I would prefer not to..." The second one mumbled, subtly moving back.

Slade lifted a hand, the one without a gun, to stroke lightly Dick's fur. The move only made the thug cackle more heavily.

"He has a fucking bunny on his shoulder! That's so cute!"

"Um, for the record, Mister Deathstroke..." The second one spoke up again. He lifted his hands in the air, body tensing all over when Slade focused his gaze on him. "I think you can do whatever you want to do and that- that your bunny is very cute!"

"Thank you." Slade said.

And then he shot the laughing thug right in the head.

------

"Deathstroke! Stop right there!"

Slade sighed. He did it a lot since Dick got turned into a fucking pet and he knew that if Dick were able to speak he would be pointing it out for him every time. But he wasn't. He was sitting silently on Slade's shoulder, like he did everytime they went out now, and for how little he was he attracted a lot of attention.

So of course Batman's little sidekick had to notice him as well.

"Run along, Robin." Slade advised, pulling out his sword. Dick nibbled at his mask in warning. "This late kids should be already in bed."

Robin scoffed but before he came up with any answer, he noticed the bunny on his shoulder. His eyes narrowed.

"Where is that bunny from?" He demanded.

"None of your business, kid."

"Give him to me!"

Slade blinked. That one he didn't expect, though he supposed it wasn't that surprising. Dick told him how much of an animal person young Wayne was and about the little zoo he's keeping at the back of Wayne manor.

"No."

Damian's face twisted, as if he actually expected Slade to just hand over the bunny.

"Give him to me!" He repeated, as if that would somehow change Slade's mind. Really, the only thing that was missing from the picture was him stomping his feet like a child he was.

Slade huffed. "Why would I do that? I'm not letting you steal my bunny."

"Steal?!" Damian echoed, agitated. "I'm not-"

That's when Batman decided to show up as well. He jumped down onto the rooftop next to Damian, his boots making a soft thud as they hit the concrete and Dick's ears flicked at the sight of him.

"Deathstroke." He growled out before taking him in properly. He blinked a few times. "Is that a bunny on your shoulder?"

Slade could just sigh again.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Open Arms ♾️

⚣♾️ A/N → yall betta love my butt from dawn till dusk and kiss it from dusk till dawn. 25K WORDS?!?!?! EXCUSE ME?! Anyway, another request done! This was an anonymous one, though that I got from my previous account but never did. So, whoever sent this in, I hope you see and enjoy it! Gotta say, it definitely feels good getting these requests out of my inbox. Well, my screenshots, at least. I used this request as a continuation of a previous fic I did, which you can read here: ⚣ Forever 💛 You can read this as a standalone, but I recommend reading the previous part beforehand for context. ALSO HERE'S THE ANGST YALL WANT SO BAD FROM ME YOU FIENDS! NOW GET🤺 GET🤺 BACK I SAY🤺 WARNINGS: Mentions of Death | Angst/Comfort | Emotional Fluffy Vibes | TW: Neglectful Parenting | Implied smexy stuff but compared to what I write, it's literally nothing | ETC

⚣♾️ Summary → Conner couldn't let it go; wouldn't let it go. He was out there somewhere, lost and afraid. His instincts have never lied to him in the past, and he was certain they weren't starting now, no matter how much the Team thought he was holding on to lost hope. They made a promise to each other, and Conner planned on keeping that promise no matter what.

⚣♾️ Words → 25.6K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY ♾️

How long is forever?

By definition: it means ‘for all future time; for always.’ Another line says ‘lasting or permanent.’ That’s what it was supposed to mean by the books at least. When he promised he would stay forever, that’s what he was supposed to do. That’s what he should've done.

Guess not all promises were meant to be kept, and words were really just that, words. No power to them at all.

Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword, Conner wanted to meet that guy just to show him how wrong he was, possibly with an actual sword if he had his way, but, hopefully, that wouldn’t happen.

Hopefully.

It had been over a year since Y/N’s disappearance. A year since he up and blinked out of Conner’s life, his friend's lives, and so on. There wasn’t a day that the young superhero didn’t find himself dreaming or thinking about Y/N. He’d catch himself frequently getting lost in remembering the way his smile always put him in a good mood.

When he was happy, Conner was happy.

Truthfully, he felt as if everything that happened before he met the young super was less significant now. Everything that happened before the two met didn’t matter anymore. Only what happened then and in the future.

Not even the day when Dick, Wally, and Kal found him at Cadmus and set him free. Or when Batman and the Justice League set him and his new friends up with their own headquarters and stealth team. Not even the day when he finally seemed to have Superman’s acceptance and bond as a mentor and family figure.

Before Y/N, life was just that; life. Something where he got up every day, worked out or trained with the team, went to school, beat up bad guys, and then went home to do it again. All those were supposed to be exciting things, for him at least, since those were things he never had or would’ve gotten to experience had it not been for his ‘liberation.’

At the time, that could’ve meant something special to him. But then some new guy stumbled into his life and fucked everything up.

“Heard we’re supposed to be getting a new recruit,” Wally mentioned as he and Kal were currently sparring in the training circle.

“Yeah, me too, or at least I read about it. Saw his file on the Batcave and read over it. There wasn’t much detail in there besides a little bit of his background. He goes to that really prestigious boarding school in the Midwest and his family is one of the most elite and wealthiest families on the East Coast.” Robin said as he was typing away at the computer.

“Great. Another spoiled rotten rich kid on the team. Sounds awesome,” Artemis uttered while organizing her arrow pack.

“Hey, I’m not rotten!” The Boy Wonder responded, feigning offense.

“Ah, but you weren’t offended by the spoiled rich part. Point still stands then,” Artemis smirked.

“Why do we even need another person? It’s not like we’re lacking or anything.” Conner proclaimed, his arms crossed in his usual defiant manner as his face held not an ounce of joy on it.

“I don’t know, I think it’d be nice to have a new member as a part of the team. It’s always great to meet new people. And who knows, maybe they can help us be even better.” M’Gann spoke.

“So you think we’re bad and need improvement,” Conner responded with an accusatory tone.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I just don’t think it’s bad if we learn from other people.” She responded, though slightly more irritable than before.

Part of the reason why she had no problem when Conner proposed they split up and just remain friends/teammates was not having to deal with his mood swings and attitude all the time. Don’t get her wrong though, he was a great boyfriend, inside and outside. But, it was clear to her that she was not a high priority on Conner’s radar.

Superboy was still getting to know who he was and understanding his place in this world, and that came with understanding his emotions and how they responded to certain situations. As time passed, he realized his ‘feelings’ or what he thought were feelings for the Martian girl were nothing more than platonic.

A byproduct of his exposure to the outside world, and society’s definition of a ‘normal’ relationship, which usually consisted of a handsome, strong fella and a nice, pretty gal. He figured that was the role he had to take on. However, after some time, realizing how forced and unhappy he felt with the role he placed himself in, it created a wedge between the two superheroes, thus prompting them to end their relationship on good terms.

Conner had things he needed to work through, and M’Gann wanted someone who put her first before anything else.

“I agree with M’Gann. Meeting different people and learning from their stories is always a valuable lesson. You never know how they could impact you in the present and the future,” Kal commented after beating Wally in their match, the floor lighting up to announce the speedster’s defeat.

Conner only let out a displeased grunt in response before the sound of the Zeta Gateway activating caught his and everyone else’s attention.

Everyone was a little apprehensive about adding a new member to the Team in the beginning, even M’Gann and Kaldur despite their positive attitudes. They had a dynamic, a flow that worked for them, and they were all more or less living by the line of thinking that if something wasn’t broken, why try and fix it?

But, change was inevitable. And, this change may have been something they all could happily get used to, seeing how the recruit seemed to tame their hot-headed Kryptonian the moment he walked into the mission room.

Okay, not tame in a way like he was an animal, but more in the manner of calming down. It was no secret that everyone knew Superboy had a bit of a temper and given his biology and nature, Wally once made a joke that they all should bring hard hats to the Cave just in case Conner was in a bad mood and needed to punch something.

He didn’t find it amusing, but he also couldn’t deny the truth of it. It became something the Kryptonian sort of obsessed over and wanted to change about himself. Especially in front of the recruit who he couldn’t understand why for the life of him he cared so much about what they thought about him.

He didn’t even realize how much he was trying to show himself as a level-headed person in front of the new guy until M’Gann pulled him aside one day and asked why he was acting so weird.

He tried to deny it at first, claiming he wasn’t acting weird at all and M’Gann was reading too much into something that wasn’t there. As expected, the Martian didn’t let it go and decided to present evidence to back up her claim.

She brought up the first week Y/N spent at the Cave, and Conner didn’t necessarily come off as anxious, but everyone could tell he was nervous, which had them all puzzled. Before then, it was rare (try never) that any of them would see the Kryptonian nervous or anxious about something. And if he was, he’d usually mask it with anger or disdain.

Yet, after meeting the new hero on their team, something about all of that changed.

“I wonder what kind of abilities he has,” M’Gann wondered aloud, an excited look on her face as everyone stood by the entryway to the Zeta Gateway.

“There wasn’t anything recorded in the file on the Batcomputer. Maybe he’s another vigilante like Artemis and me.” Robin said.

“Hopefully, a better one than Bird Boy.” The snarky smirk the archer currently held was met with an unpleasant look from the Boy Wonder before their attention was redirected to the gateway, hearing the computer announcing their mentor's arrival.

Batman, Superman, and Flash came through one by one, while being followed by another individual none of them had recognized. The computer announced their name as a guest, which Robin figured was because he wasn’t fully registered into the Justice League systems yet.

He had a puzzling feeling about why Batman was being more secretive around this individual, seeing as he usually puts every single detail he can find on a person of interest into a file. Plus, he would always have things like registrations and paperwork taken care of before anything else was done.

Not to say it made him suspicious, but he was curious.

The others waited patiently while their superiors came into the mission room, followed by the individual who was carrying a small designer duffle bag. His clothes and look were simple, and he held a genuine and curious look in his eyes, tinged with a bit of uncertainty that Superboy managed to pick up as well from how hard he was staring and analyzing the boy from the moment he walked in. Though, if you asked him, he’d most definitely say he was not staring.

It wasn’t obvious, as the guy took whatever measures he could to hide it, but he could tell the young man came from wealth. It was a familiar aesthetic and look that the Kryptonian had come to learn by being friends with Boy Wonder and all, even if he wasn’t necessarily born into a rich family.

Plus, through certain missions and social events his ‘status’ would get him into, he’d had his fair share of interactions and hand-shaking with those who had more money than they would ever need. He’d begun to learn their various looks and covers. Most were unpleasant, hiding underneath a vain and inflated sense of superiority. Something he almost could relate to at one point, considering he used to believe his powers and abilities put him above everyone.

This guy was different, though. Conner couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about him was intriguing. Nobody he had ever met before made the young Kryptonian feel whatever that Earth saying was he’d heard M’Gann rambling about one time. Something about butterflies in the stomach.

Why one would even eat a butterfly was beyond him. Yet, the feeling she described was exactly what Conner was feeling in his stomach at the moment. His first immediate thought was that his stomach was broken and it took Zatanna, Artemis, and M’Gann explaining it with the help of Black Canary that a week and a half later he was nervous or scared.

“Hello, everyone. As I’m sure you’re already aware, we’ve decided to recruit a new addition to your team. His name is Y/N, and he’ll be staying here at the Cave for a few weeks while we get more details situated. Y/N, meet your new team.”

Everyone introduced themselves one by one to the recruit, and since Conner was on the end, he was the last one to be greeted which he now regretted. He started going over in his head how he should say ‘hi’, not wanting to come off too aggressive where he scared him, but also not wanting to sound like he was some weakling.

It took getting an elbow shoved into his side from Robin for him to notice everyone looking at him, including the reason for his distantness.

“Oh, uh… Sorry. Hello, I’m Boysuper.”

Everyone started laughing, including Superman and Flash, and Conner swore he saw a hint of a chuckle from Batman as well. It wasn’t until he thought back on his words and realized his mistake that he blushed embarrassingly. Though everyone found it funny, they were all more or less completely thrown off.

This behavior was completely out of character for Boysuper! If someone were writing a character analysis of him, they’d say this was completely unimaginable and not realistic at all. It wasn’t anything like him or something he would do.

Which is exactly what made it all the more shocking and funny.

Y/N, also tickled by the name mistake, gave him grace and just pretended it didn’t happen.

“Hi Superboy, nice to meet you.” His smile was something that clouded Conner's thoughts, focusing in on the innocence in his face and the twinkle in his eye as he looked back into the Kryptonian’s eyes.

For a fleeting moment, Superboy forgot everyone else was there as he reached his hand out to shake the others. As far as he knew, Kryptonians didn’t sweat, yet his palms felt hot and they felt damp. He was almost scared to touch the boy’s hand, thinking the man would find him gross and disgusting perspiring in his palm.

It didn’t happen, though. They shook hands, and Conner got a weird tingle up his arms that had him freaking out even more on the inside. But, the smile on Y/N’s face kept him rooted. Kept him from leaping off the ground like a spooked cat who’d just been electrocuted.

Despite his nervous feelings, seeing the beautiful face smiling at him made him feel happy on the inside. It was a nice feeling, a very welcomed feeling. Something he wanted to cherish and protect forever.

Wait, did he say beautiful?

At some point, Black Canary along with Superman helped explain to Superboy what he was feeling of desire and attraction, and that it was completely normal to have those feelings, no matter who they were aimed at.

Artemis was a little less careful and just stated the simple truth.

“You’ve got a crush lover-boy.”

Everyone chuckled and laughed at the statement and the somewhat irony behind the revelation.

That day, Y/N changed his perspective on the meaning and purpose of life. Before, he didn’t see the significance in the saying ‘You only live once.’ True, you do only live once, but if you live to do the same thing over and over each day, then what’s the point of living at all?

What was the point of getting to know things or wanting to improve and get better at something when we all had the same eventual fate, give or take how many years it took for it to come? What did life really mean if all it had was for you to wake up and do the same thing you did yesterday and the day before that?

It was one of the constant questions he had mulled over in his head since his liberation from Cadmus and being welcomed into the Team. His first and only purpose in life was to be a weapon. Now, besides doing good and saving the world now and then, he had the chance to do something meaningful with his life.

He just didn't know what meaningful was.

Until he met Y/N, who from the very moment they met had a way of bringing out the best in Conner and making him want to be a better person. It wasn't like the Kryptonian was a bad guy or anything. In fact, he was a great friend, teammate, and hero. But, there was something about the boy that just made him want to be a better version of himself.

Even despite the rocky start to their relationship.

"I'm telling you, there's something up with that kid. Batman said something about them needing to do 'more tests' and that he couldn't return back until they were sure he wouldn't be a liability," Conner spoke with his teammates in one of the library rooms in their base.

Conner had recently overheard a conversation between Y/N and Batman when he was going to try and 'confess' his feelings for him as his friends had encouraged him to do, even M'Gann. But, those plans were halted when he overheard the Dark Knight talking to the recruit about tests and making sure they wouldn't be bugged.

He mentioned something about the school Y/N was attending and how they also had to make sure his parents wouldn't be a liability or get caught in the crossfire. The biggest thing that caught the Kryptonian's attention was when Batman said he had to absolutely keep his full identity a secret from the rest of the team, especially from Conner himself.

And, no matter how sad and reluctant Y/N sounded when he agreed to Batman's instructions and feeling a strong urge to comfort him, he didn't waste a second before running back to his friends and telling them everything. After the Red Tornado ordeal with his siblings, he didn't want to take any chances, no matter how his heart felt.

Everyone seemed on the fence though when he first told them. They all had gotten along really well with Y/N during his first few days and didn't want to think the guy could be a threat to him. But, they'd all learned from their mistakes in the past, and so decided they needed more information before they proceeded with anything.

Dick had pointed out that there still wasn't much in Y/N's file that he could find besides his background. The only solid things he was able to find were about his parents and how they shared very similar views with Lex Luthor on supers. It wasn't enough for them to outright accuse him of being up to no good but it was something for them to look into.

The Boy Wonder suggested the best way to learn more about him was to spy on him, and despite how much it didn't feel right to Conner, he agreed to do it. They know confronting him directly wasn't the best strategy, especially if he was being told by Batman to not reveal anything to them. They needed to be covert.

That's what led them to this moment right now. Conner had just overheard another of Y/N's conversations, only this time he was talking to his parents. Everything seemed fine at first, despite the obvious fact that his parents had no clue their son was currently living in a cave with a bunch of teenage superheroes and vigilantes. The Kryptonian was ready to call it quits, already feeling guilty enough for listening in on such a private conversation until...

"Yeah, everything's great at the school. I'm having a lot of fun and have met some very interesting people. And, yes, Uncle Lex has been really nice to me. His tests have been effective so far and he's confident he'll reach a solution soon."

That confirmed everything the Kryptonian and the others needed to know. They were all convinced Y/N was a mole sent here to spy on them and the Justice League for Lex Luthor. They were going to bring it to Batman, but Dick once again pointed out the conversation Conner heard earlier between the Dark Knight and the recruit, and that he was probably already aware of everything and was investigating on his own.

But this was their team, and they were going to do whatever they could to protect it. So, they decided to set up a trap for the mole.

Dick created a fake mission while Wally, Artemis, and Zantanna went to recruit Y/N to come with them. They spun a fake story about the League being in danger and that they needed all hands on deck. Of course, Y/N was willing to help them. He didn't ask questions and just followed them to where they were supposed to meet up with the others.

They had to wait for a few minutes for everyone else to arrive. Y/N was sitting on the ground, waiting patiently and trying to make conversation with everyone. When they finally arrived, Dick began his 'fake' briefing.

He decided to trust them, but something still felt off. And he didn't know why, but the look Conner was giving him let him know he wasn't being given the full truth.

"Alright, team. We have a situation. The League has been compromised and we're the only ones who can save them."

"What's going on?" Y/N asked, confused.

"The League has been captured and is being held by Lex Luthor. We don't know what he's planning, we only know that they need our help," Dick explained, not even batting an eye at the ridiculousness of the situation he was describing.

"And, how do you know all this?" Y/N questioned, confused as to why Batman wasn't the one giving the briefing.

"Batman told us before he got captured. He managed to send us a signal before Luthor's goons cut him off. We're the only ones who can help," Artemis added.

"How do we know they're really in trouble?" Y/N inquired, looking at everyone and their lack of gear or weapons.

"We have to trust Batman," Wally answered, trying his best to act as natural as possible.

"I don't know, guys. Something doesn't feel right about this," Y/N muttered, trying to figure out what was happening.

"Y/N, we're the only ones who can save Batman, the Flash, and the others. We need you," M'Gann pleaded, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Y/N was hesitant, not sure if what they were saying was true. He thought back on his conversation with Batman and how he made him promise not to tell the team about him and his family until they had everything figured out. But, if he was really in danger...

"Okay. Let's go."

And that's how Y/N found himself tied to a tree in a random park near his boarding school. A convenient location, the others thinking it would trick a confession out of the mole. But, when Y/N instead was warning them that by bringing him there, they were putting not only him in danger, but themselves and the League.

They didn't believe him at first, thinking this was just the cover story he was using if he got caught. But, then Batman, Superman, and the Flash found the young team of heroes and vigilantes would soon realize their mistake.

"Tell us the truth, now! Why are you here?" Kaldur demanded.

"I'm telling you I don't know what you're talking about," Y/N insisted.

"How dumb do you think we are? We know you're working with Lex Luthor. Just admit it!" Artemis spat, annoyed that the boy was trying to lie to their faces.

"Yeah!" Wally added, throwing peanuts from his snack compartment at the boy's face.

"Seriously, KF?" Dick said.

"What? Maybe if he has a peanut allergy, this will make him fess up."

"I don't have a peanut allergy."

"Oh, well. Now, it's just for fun," Kid Flash said before throwing more at him.

"Okay, this is just getting ridiculous. We know you're working with Luthor. I overheard your little conversation with your parents about Uncle Lex's tests," Conner said, his tone carrying its usual hard edge, but not as much aggression as it would be for someone else.

"You were eavesdropping on me?"

"That's not important. What's important is you confessing what you're doing here. What are you trying to do? What's your mission?"

"I don't have a mission. I don't know what you're talking about and what you overheard, you heard out of context," Y/N stated, the last part aimed at Conner who looked away from his hurt gaze.

"Y/N, please," M'Gann pleaded.

"I'm telling you the truth. I'm not working for anybody, and even if I was, it wouldn't be with Lex Luthor of all people. But, we seriously need to leave. We're not too far from the school, and if he finds out I was here, with all of you out of all people, it's going to cause more trouble than ever."

"Alright, Zatanna. Truth spell him..."

"He's already telling the truth."

Everyone turned around to see Batman, Superman, and Flash approaching with not-very-pleased looks. Then again, when has Batman ever looked pleased?

"Then, why didn't you tell us?" Dick asked with an accusatory tone toward his mentor.

"Because we didn't want this to happen," Flash stated, looking over at Y/N and the mess their young protegees made.

"What, so you don't trust us all of a sudden?" Artemis accused.

"This had nothing to do with trust, it had everything to do with a delicate situation."

"What situation?" Wally asked.

"A delicate one," Batman reiterated.

"Y/N is being used by Lex Luthor," Superman began explaining.

"So, he's not a mole?" M'Gann asked.

"No, he's not a mole. He's actually the exact opposite. His family is a known affiliate of Lex Luthor, and he's been using their known distrust of Superman, myself, and the rest of the League as a way to perform experiments on him with the promise of removing his powers at the request of his parents. However, someone like Lex, we can be sure has other purposes for these experiments. Purposes he intends to use for his own advantage and as a means to target the League," Batman continued.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Conner questioned, feeling even more guilty while glancing back at the recruit who was currently rubbing his wrists, having been freed from his restraints by Superman.

"Because we didn't want you getting involved. Lex has eyes and ears everywhere, especially in that school, and if he were to discover our involvement, it could put Y/N and his family in danger," The older Kryptonian pointed out, while placing a reassuring hand on the younger male's shoulder, who held a slightly worried look at the mention of his parents being put in possible danger.

Despite his still guilty feelings, something in him felt he should have gone over to comfort the younger male. He along with the rest of his teammates apologized to Y/N for their distrust before making their way back to Mount Justice.

Since everything was out in the open, Batman gave Y/N the okay to share with the others everything about his background. And share he did. He told the entire story of how everything came to be.

His parents had always been more or less distrusting towards Superman, The Flash, Wonder Woman, etc., and saw their powers and abilities not as ways that could help protect regular people like themselves and others, but as a means to oppression. They felt the very thing that made them superheroes gave them an unfair advantage over others.

Kind of how other people saw their super wealthy status as an unfair advantage over people of a lower class but that's another discussion for another day.

So imagine their surprise when their very own son ended up manifesting his own powers early on in his childhood. It started with small things like enhanced durability and moving at inhuman speeds.

But then, when it turned into being able to fly and manipulating energies in his teenage years, his parents had had enough. They were afraid their son was going to become just like the superheroes they hated so much. And, they were afraid of what he could do if his powers became too out of control.

So, they did the only thing they could think of.

They turned to Lex Luthor for help.

They told him about their situation and how they were desperate for help. They didn't want their son to be a danger to himself or others. Lex promised them he'd do everything he could to help their son and to try and remove his abilities.

The wealthy elite suggested sending him to one of the prestigious boarding schools that he funded. It was a school that catered to kids with extraordinary talents and abilities. They would provide him with an excellent education and would have the best teachers and professors teach him.

As a bonus, they were very confidential and private with their students and wouldn't share any information without explicit consent. That meant even if his parents were to come by and ask, they wouldn't be able to say anything, thus keeping their son's secret abilities safe.

However, they were none the wiser to Lex's true intentions. With these experiments, he'd finally have the advantage he needed to rid the world of Superman and the Justice League. But, of course, things wouldn't be that easy.

But, when Batman, Superman, and Flash came to his school in their civilian identities but still in disguise, they offered him the chance to truly understand and control his powers along with a spot to join their team of young superheroes as a new recruit. They also promised to find a way to end these experiments with Lex as Y/N explained that he hadn't met success with getting rid of them, but he did suspect he was up to no good, he just didn't know what to do as he knew his parents wouldn't listen to him.

It's why Batman also initially told him not to tell his new teammates anything about himself, at least until they found a way where Y/N could work and be protected from the experiments without putting his family at risk. Lex was known to be crafty and wouldn't hesitate to use the young teenager's parents as leverage to force him to comply

"Of course, I want to use my powers for good and help people. It's why I came with Batman and the others in the first place. But, not if it means I could put my parents in danger. Yeah, we have our differences, and they're not the most accepting of my abilities. But, they're still my family and I don't want anything bad to happen to them."

The others all felt for the young man and apologized again for their mistrust and promised to do whatever they could to help him out. They were a team after all, and a team sticks together through thick and thin.

Conner, on the other hand, still felt guilty for accusing him and even considering he was a mole. Y/N, however, was more understanding and forgiving than the Kryptonian thought he deserved.

"Ah, don't be too hard on yourself, Conner. If I were you, I would have probably done the same thing."

"Really? You don't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you? Sure, you accused me of being a spy for a supervillain, but it was only because you wanted to protect your team and the League. How can I hate you for that?"

Conner had been stunned by the younger male's response. He wasn't mad at him or even holding a grudge. He wasn't even holding the peanut incident against him. He was just so understanding. The Kryptonian knew if the situation were reversed, Y/N would be considered lucky if he hadn't blown up at him.

 It was then Conner realized that maybe he felt something more for the young man than just a simple crush.

He thought about how much he admired how positive and enduring Y/N was, despite the challenges he was overcoming. His parents not accepting him, being used as a pawn to hurt others, and the same people meant to protect and love him allowing it, despite them being ignorant to it. But, the younger male still held onto hope and wanted to use his powers for good. He saw the best in people and wanted to help them, no matter what.

Y/N had this infectious energy about him. He always did everything with a smile and a positive attitude, no matter how much his life proved to be the opposite of positive. Yeah, he was a bit naive, but despite all that, and all of the things he'd been subjected to, he was innocent and pure.

He was like an angel, a light shining in a sea of darkness. And, Conner wanted to be the person that light shined on. The Kryptonian wanted to protect and cherish him. He wanted to hold him in his arms and never let go. He wanted to love him.

And, Y/N wanted to love him back.

He didn't care that Conner's temper was a bit short or that he could be a bit stubborn and aggressive. He understood he was just a boy raised to be a weapon. He had been taught to view the world in a certain way, and it was only now that he was learning there was more to life than that.

He understood that despite his gruffness, it was just the way Conner had learned to live, and that deep down he was a very loving and caring person.

Of course, their eventual getting together was nothing like anyone had expected, despite them waiting for the two idiots to confess their obvious feelings for each other.

It had been about a month since the incident with the fake mission and the eventual truth about Y/N being revealed to the team. After returning to Mount Justice and going over some logistics with the rest of the Justice League, they all got a debriefing from Batman on what would happen from there.

They knew that they couldn't risk keeping him away too long, otherwise, Lex would get suspicious and alert his parents. So, Y/N would go back to school as per usual, but he'd be under the surveillance of a team of League members disguised as his teachers and other staff. They would keep an eye on him and Lex Luthor's experiments and if they became too much, they'd intervene.

Conner, however, was not happy about this arrangement. He wanted to be the one who would look out for the younger male, but the Dark Knight had other plans.

"I can't allow you to do that. If we have you constantly watching over him, it'll be too obvious. He'll be under constant surveillance and have League members watching over him at all times. You'll be too obvious, Conner."

"Then, I'll just go back with him. I can stay in the school, and watch over him. I won't leave his side."

"Conner, the school isn't equipped for a teenage boy with Kryptonian abilities. We can't allow you to be there with him. If you go, it'll just put him in more danger." Superman said, attempting to reason with him.

"But, what if he gets hurt? What if Luthor does something? What if..."

"Conner, please. I'm going to be fine. You heard what Batman and the others said. They're going to be right there with me and won't let anything happen. They'll protect me." Y/N said, placing a hand on the younger Krypontian's arm to reassure him.

"Besides, we've worked out a way to disrupt Lex's experiments. With the help of our scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs, we've created a dilution solution. Whatever Lex decides to inject him with, these solutions will work to nullify them. It'll give us more time to figure out a way to end these experiments for good and won't pose any risk to Y/N's powers." Batman explained.

Conner wasn’t happy with the idea, not one bit. But he knew he had no choice but to let Y/N go with it, no matter how much he hated it.

"Of course, he'll still be a part of this team. We're setting up a new Zeta Gateway near the school, and one of our agents will make sure he gets there safely and without alerting Lex. Y/N will come here after his classes and sessions with Lex to report anything new as well as keep his training up."

With that, Black Canary and Captain Marvel came forward with a box, handing it over to Y/N with a smile. The young man opened it excitedly to find a brand new super-suit, specially made and tailored for him.

"Welcome to the Team, Primus."

The other members congratulated him with cheers, hugs, and claps, a little bit more enthusiastically than they would have with someone else, but it was deserved. He'd already shown to be an amazing member of the team and an amazing friend, and they were happy to have him.

They celebrated later that day on the beach, before Y/N's eventual departure. Batman made it seem as if he was on a vacation with his parents while he was here at Mount Justice, so he knew he'd have to return eventually to prevent any eyes from getting raised.

Everyone was having fun, playing, swimming, and laughing. At some point, they all ended up lounging around on the sand, laying or sitting on their various blankets and chairs while watching the sun slowly descend towards the horizon, signaling the closer approach of Y/N's leaving.

"I have a question," Y/N suddenly said, "I had meant to ask this before after everything that happened last month but kept forgetting. When Batman told me to keep my background a secret from you all, he specifically kept telling me to not tell Conner about my connection to Lex. Why?"

Everyone looked around at each other, before settling their gaze on Conner, who looked down at the ground with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, it's a bit of a long story," Dick began, not wanting the boy to feel awkward with his question.

"I'm Superman's clone," Conner interrupted, silencing not just the Boy Wonder but everyone around him as he continued, "I was made in a lab from the DNA of both Superman and Lex Luthor to be a weapon against the Justice League. I'm not an actual person, and if it wasn't for these guys, I'd still be in Cadmus, probably sitting in a pod right now."

Y/N seemed taken aback, not saying anything as Conner continued to look down at the sand in shame. He was afraid of revealing the truth to Y/N, thinking he wouldn't see him as an actual person.

However, he, along with everyone else, was more than shocked at his response.

"Wow, you are a miracle to all the gays around the world."

There was a beat of silence before a chorus of laughter erupted around them. Wally, Artemis, and Dick did nothing to hide their hysteria while Zatanna and Kaldur attempted to conceal their own chuckles. M'Gann and Conner were both confused, but the Martian laughed as well, while the Kryptonian was just looking at the younger male in front of him, his cheeks turning red.

"I-I don't know what that means."

"Let's just say I know some people who kill to have someone like you in their lives. You're more special than you know," Y/N answered, smiling at him.

Conner was shocked, not expecting that response.

"You don't think less of me?"

"Of course not. Why would I?"

"Because of what I am. What I was made for and who I was made from."

"I don't care about any of that. You're you, and you're the one that makes you, you. Not what other people made you to be if that makes sense," Y/N said with a humorous, confused look that Conner couldn't help but smile at," You're a person, Conner, and I think you're amazing," Y/N looked at the Kryptonian with a smile who had the blush on his face returning even more.

"Thank you."

"Hey, guys. The sun is going down. We should take a picture," Dick suddenly said, pointing out the setting sun.

They all gathered around for a group photo, Y/N and Conner being the closest, with the younger male leaning into the Kryptonian. It was a great moment for all of them, and the perfect way to start their journey as a team.

Eventually, the sun had set and it was time for Y/N to make his departure. He made his goodbyes to everyone, promising he would be back soon before eventually stopping in front of Conner who nervously looked down at the boy, his emotions still all over the place from their previous conversation.

"Can I actually talk to you in private before you go?" The Kryptonian asked.

Y/N looked a little shocked and turned to Batman who gave his nod of approval, "You've got five minutes."

The two boys walked a bit away from the group, the others looking on with eager faces and eyes as they not so subtly tried to see what was happening.

"Um, I just wanted to apologize again for everything that happened. I know it was stupid, but I didn't want anything bad to happen to the Team or the League. And, I thought if there was a chance you could be a mole or something, I needed to find out. But, I realized that it was stupid, and I was just being paranoid..."

Without even realizing it, Conner began to ramble and Y/N had to take his hand to get him to stop talking, "Conner, it's okay. I told you, I already forgave you for that. And, remember, I was the one who said you were justified in doing it. You were trying to protect your team and that's something I respect and admire."

"You do?" Conner asked, feeling a bit hopeful.

"Of course, I do. You were willing to do anything to protect the people you care about, and that's admirable. I could never hold that against you. My own parents don't trust me just because I have powers and sent me away to a boarding school to be experimented on in hopes of getting rid of them. You only reacted the way you did because you were worried about the people you cared about and loved. Something only a real person is capable of doing," Y/N said.

Conner didn't know what had come over him, but the feeling of Y/N's hands in his own and the sincerity of his words had him pulling the younger male in for a deep kiss, his lips fitting perfectly against his own.

Y/N was surprised, but after a moment, he wrapped his arms around Conner's neck and deepened the kiss, not even realizing the shocked expressions of the people around them.

"It's about time," Artemis muttered.

Y/N had left back to his school and sessions with Lex and returned to Mount Justice within a month where he'd reported everything that had happened. The dilutions were working for the most part and Lex was none the wiser from what he could tell.

And once the Zeta Gateway was set up, Y/N was able to return every other night or when he was needed for a mission. It gave him the time he needed with the Black Canary and the other League members to test and train his powers.

Conner, on the other hand, had a new drive. He was less of the brooding and angry teen he used to be and was a lot more caring and less abrupt and aggressive. Y/N had made him want to do better, to be better than he was before.

And with their new relationship, Conner was more determined than ever to protect Y/N and keep him safe, no matter what. As far as the Kryptonian was concerned, no one would be allowed to hurt him. Not Lex Luthor, not his parents, no one.

Their relationship developed and deepened very quickly during their time together with the two becoming nearly inseparable. When Y/N would come to the Cave, Conner would frequently join in on his training sessions with Black Canary, and he would realize how fast of a learner his boyfriend was.

Within a couple of months, he was able to adapt and adjust to his powers, growing more confident and powerful. He was even able to keep up with the Kryptonian's own speed and strength, something that impressed the others.

"I can't believe how much he's improved in such a short amount of time," Dick said.

"Yeah, he's been doing well. I've never seen anyone adapt to their powers so quickly," Wally added.

"Yeah, well. With the right motivation, I think anyone can do anything," Kaldur said, watching the two lovers spar with each other while shirtless from across the room.

"Yeah, I bet," Artemis said, watching the two as well.

"Conner's become really protective of him," M'Gann said.

"Yeah, well. When you're dating a guy with superpowers by someone who's kind of your arch-nemesis, you tend to get a bit protective," Dick pointed out.

"You think we should do something about it?" Wally asked.

"What do you mean?" M'Gann questioned.

"I don't know. It just seems like Conner's gotten a bit more possessive than usual. I mean, Y/N can't even go to school without him worrying. And, he's always asking about him and his progress with his powers. It's like he's obsessed or something."

"Well, it's not like he's done anything wrong," Zatanna pointed out, "We don't even know what's going to happen with his parents and Luthor. I mean, imagine how Conner must feel when Y/N has to go back to the school and those experiments and he can't do anything about it."

"Plus, the fact his family is essentially allowing this, whether they know about the full situation or not," Kaldur added.

"Yeah. I mean, the guy was practically raised in a lab and was used as a weapon by that same jerk. So, the idea of his boyfriend's family being involved with his arch-nemesis would definitely get his panties in a twist," Artemis added

"Well, hopefully, we can figure something out soon. I'm not sure how much longer Conner can handle it."

"I think we should just let things play out. If it gets to a point where it's affecting our missions or our teamwork, then we can intervene. But, for now, I think we should just let them be," Kaldur said, ending the conversation.

As if on cue, the two boys finished their sparring match, with Y/N pinning Conner down against the floor.

"I win," Y/N said with a smile.

"Only because I let you," Conner replied.

"No, you didn't. You just couldn't handle me. I'm just too fast and strong for you," Y/N teased before letting them both up.

"Oh, yeah? Well, let's see who's too fast and strong now," Conner said before grabbing Y/N and throwing him over his shoulder.

The Kryptonian carried him around the room, his boyfriend laughing and protesting while the others just rolled their eyes.

"Alright lovebirds, that's enough flirting. We've got a mission," Dick said.

"Yes Father," Y/N replied sarcastically before having the Kryptonian put him down who had a disgruntled face at being interrupted, "Stop pouting, you big baby."

"I'm not pouting," Conner mumbled.

"You're totally pouting."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

"Yes."

"Haha! I win!" Y/N said before giving Conner a peck on the cheek, causing the Kryptonian to smile while his boyfriend checked his phone, "Oh Crap, I didn't realize how late it was. I have to get back to the school."

"Do you have to go?" Conner asked, his arms wrapping around his waist.

"You know I do. We don't want to alert anyone. I promise I'll be back later, okay?" Y/N said, cupping the Kryptonian's face.

Conner nodded before leaning down and capturing the younger male's lips in a sweet kiss.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye, babe."

"See you later, Y/N," The others called out as the young male made his way to the Zeta Gateway.

"Man, I don't know how he does it. If I had a boyfriend like Conner, I don't think I'd ever leave," Artemis said.

"Yeah, well. I think the only reason he's able to is because of the fact that he's being experimented on by his parents' best friend and his parents are okay with it. He wants to be there to protect his parents and keep them safe, despite what they're doing," Dick pointed out.

"I hope we can find a solution soon," Wally said, "I can't imagine what Conner's feeling."

"Yeah, we'll figure something out," Kaldur said, before they made their way to the mission briefing.

Things continued on like that for almost a little over a year. During the day, Y/N would attend his classes and sessions with Lex while still taking the dilutions S.T.A.R. Lab made for him. Then, at night, he traveled back to Mount Justice for training, any missions he was needed on, and to provide updates to the League while they worked on shutting the experiments for good.

He'd come far in his development and was no longer the helpless kid who had no control over his powers. He was now a superhero in his own right and had become a very important member of the team.

Plus, he and Conner were as close as could be, deeply in love with each other and always together. The Kryptonian was still a bit protective and possessive of the younger male, but not to the point where it was interfering with the team. If anything, it had the opposite effect.

When they were out in the field, Conner was more determined and focused than ever, especially if Y/N was involved.

He still went out of his way to make sure the younger male was safe, even taking on the responsibility of walking him back to his campus at night, in disguise of course. Batman objected to it at first, but knowing how stubborn Conner was, especially when it came to Y/N, he decided to allow it.

And that's where Y/N got to discover the jealous side of his boyfriend when they ran into his roommate one night the Kryptonian escorted him back.

"Hey, Y/N. Who's this?"

"Oh, this is CJ, my boyfriend. CJ, this is my roommate, Mason." Y/N said.

Conner gave his boyfriend a look at the fake name before turning back to the other present male, "Nice to meet you," he said, a bit more gruff than he intended.

"Same here. I'm glad to finally meet you, Y/N's told me a lot about you. Well, when he's here."

"I'm sure," Conner replied, trying not to sound as jealous as he was.

"Well, I'm gonna head back. I'll see you back in our room, Y/N" Mason said.

Conner did not like how suggestive that sounded and was glaring daggers into the retreating boy's back. He should have considered himself lucky that the Kryptonian didn't have heat vision, otherwise he'd be a pile of ash on the ground.

"You okay, babe?" Y/N asked, seeing his boyfriend's expression.

"I don't like him," Conner stated.

"Why? Because he's my roommate?"

"Yes. He's your roommate. And he's a guy. A guy who spends a lot of time around you. A guy who sleeps in the same room as you and knows you have a boyfriend. A guy who probably has a crush on you and is probably fantasizing about you being with him right now."

"Conner, you're being ridiculous," Y/N said, rolling his eyes.

"I am not. I know what guys like him are thinking about. He wants to get into your pants."

"So, what? Do you think I'm just going to let him? Or that I'm not capable of fending him off?"

"I know you can, but that doesn't mean he won't try. And, I don't like the idea of you being alone with him. You need to switch rooms."

"What? Just for me to end up in another room with another guy?"

"Doesn't this place offer single rooms?"

"Yes, but they're for seniors only."

"What about CO-ED?"

"I-... Really, Conner?"

"What kind of prestigious institution is this? Fine, you're moving into the Cave then, and you'll share my room with me. Your actual boyfriend."

"Conner, I can't..."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not safe. If I'm not here, my parents will get suspicious. What if they try and contact me, and I'm not here? They'll get worried and call Lex, and then he'll get suspicious. I can't risk it."

Conner sighed, knowing his boyfriend was right.

"Have I mentioned how much I don't like your parents?" Conner muttered.

"Yes, you have. Multiple times."

"Good."

That wouldn't be the last time Conner would suggest Y/N moving into the Cave, and no matter how much the younger male wanted to, he knew he had to stay at the school.

In their time together, Y/N had become one of the most, if not, the most important people in the Kryptonian's life. He was the light in the darkness, and Conner couldn't imagine his life without him.

However, the strain of the situation was beginning to show.

Lex had started to increase the intensity and frequency of the experiments, and Batman and the other League members weren't having much luck trying to figure out how to stop them. They weren't having much luck with Y/N's parents either, trying to subtly change their views on the League and Lex Luthor to help them see the potential mess they were creating by allowing these experiments to happen, but it was to no avail.

Conner could feel himself getting angrier and more impatient. He wanted to protect Y/N and help him in any way he could and was tired of not being able to do anything.

He'd also become frustrated with the League and his teammates. They were so focused on making sure they didn't make things worse that they were neglecting the actual problem.

When Y/N started slipping in training and showing signs of ill effects, Conner became even more worried and stressed every time the boy left back for school. Not being able to know if something happened to him while he was there was driving the boy up the wall, and as a result, he became more persistent in his efforts to get Y/N to stay in the Cave where he could protect him.

None of them were successful of course. But, things were slowly getting more out of control and dangerous, and Conner didn't know how much more he could take before he lost it.

"Y/N, keep up! Come on," Black Canary shouted as she ran the team through different training drills.

Batman and Superman were also there observing the training. They were there to discuss potential updates to the situation after meeting with the League, but they, especially the Kryptonian showed signs of worry at the younger superhero's seemingly exhausted state.

"He's been training a lot lately. Maybe he's just tired," M'Gann suggested.

"Maybe, but this is unusual. Even for him," Dick said.

"He's been a bit off lately," Artemis added.

"Maybe it's because of the experiments," Wally suggested.

"We don't know that," Kaldur said.

"Well, what else could it be? You saw how he was acting yesterday. He was exhausted, and his powers were all over the place. He's not getting any better. If anything, he's getting worse," Artemis said.

Her words kept everyone silent as none of them could deny the obvious fact sitting in front of them. It didn't help that Conner was already upset about the situation as a whole and the fact that the League had allowed it to go on as long as it did was only making his anger worse, something everyone could see.

"Alright, that's enough for today," Black Canary finally said.

"Are you sure? We still have some time left," Zatanna asked.

"We can finish up tomorrow. I think we all need a break. We've been working hard lately and need some time to ourselves. You can come down, Y/N!"

"I agree," Superman said, "You guys have been doing great. You deserve some time to yourselves."

"I'm going to go see if Y/N is alright," Conner said.

"Maybe we should let him rest for a bit, Conner," M'Gann said.

"What? Why? He's my boyfriend which makes him my concern. So, I'm going to see if he's alright."

"I think M'Gann is right, Conner. You should let him rest for a bit before you see him," Dick said.

"Is that an order?" Conner asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Conner, we're just saying that—"

"Oh my god!"

The Kryptonian was about to make a retort, but the sound of a scream stopped him. Everyone turned to see Y/N falling from the sky, his body limp.

"Y/N!"

Conner didn't waste a second and leaped off the ground towards his boyfriend. He caught him just in time before he hit the ground, his body hanging limply in his arms.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Conner said, shaking him, but the younger male didn't respond.

The Kryptonian's eyes were furious as he turned to the League members who had rushed over, "This is all your fault!"

"Conner, calm down. We're going to figure this out," Batman said.

"No! All of this is your fault. You and the entire League! You all knew this was happening, and you let it continue. You didn't do anything to stop it, and now look at him!"

"Conner, please. I know you're upset, but you need to calm down. We need to figure out what's wrong with Y/N."

"What's wrong with him?! You guys have been using him as your little guinea pig for over a year and now that something's wrong, you're suddenly concerned? You're all a bunch of hypocrites!"

"Conner, please. Let's just get Y/N to the med bay and see what's wrong," M'Gann said.

"Fine!" The Kryptonian shouted before following the others towards the medical bay, his boyfriend still held tightly in his arms.

Y/N was placed on the bed, while the League and the Team watched as Red Tornado checked his vitals.

Batman sent out an emergency call and had some medical professionals from S.T.A.R. Labs come to Mount Justice to figure out what was going on. His diagnosis wasn't good.

"His vitals are improving, thankfully. But, it seems his body is under a lot of stress."

"What does that mean?"

"From initial tests, it seems that the combination of whatever he's being injected with combined with our solutions to dilute and nullify them are causing his immune system to feel like it's getting attacked from two ends."

"But, this wasn't happening before when Y/N started taking the dilutions?"

"Yes, because whatever serums Mr. Luthor was using weren't as strong. We can only assume he's gotten more persistent and amped up the intensity of his tests. Combined with our dilutions, now, not only are they fighting with each other, but it's causing his body to fight itself as well. We need further tests to confirm, but what I can say is that since these experiments are primarily designed to extract and/or remove his powers, his use of them in combat or training causes more stress than he can handle."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Y/N's body is rejecting the combination of both the serums and our solutions, and the only way to prevent further harm is to stop using them."

"But, that'll mean he won't have any way to counteract the effects of the serums," Superman said.

"Yes. But, it's the only way to prevent further damage. His body is essentially going into a sort of self-defense mode and is attacking itself. We need to stop it now before it gets worse and becomes permanent. Right now, it's only affecting his immune system, but if it continues, it'll affect other parts of his body, and we won't be able to save him."

The doctor unhooked him from the machines, packing his things before being escorted back to S.T.A.R. Labs by Black Canary and Captain Marvel. The room was quiet as Conner stood by Y/N's side while glaring at the Dark Knight.

"You knew this was happening, didn't you?"

"Conner, you need—"

"No! Don't tell me what I need to do. You knew this was happening, and you did nothing. You were fine with just sitting around and doing nothing, letting this happen. You let Y/N get hurt and put him in danger."

"Superboy! That's enough." Aqualad ordered.

"Dude, you think they've been sitting around doing nothing? That's all they've been doing trying to figure out how to shut this all down while dealing with other stuff. Batman even tried going to Y/N's parents directly to get them to see reason." Dick tried to argue on his mentor's behalf.

"And, look where that got us. Y/N nearly died today because of the crap you've all been subjecting him to. It's been over a year and you still haven't done anything. He's the one suffering while all of you get to just sit back and watch."

"Conner, please. We're trying. They just need more time," M'Gann pleaded.

"Time? Y/N could have died today. Do you understand that? I could have lost him. And, it would have been all of their faults."

"Conner, please. I know you're upset, but you can't blame them. They've been trying their best," Zatanna said.

"No, they haven't. If they were doing their best, they would've confronted Luthor directly and put an end to this shitshow months ago!"

"That would've just put Y/N and his family in more danger! They can't just go around accusing someone like Lex Luthor who is known to cover his tracks without any proof!" Artemis argued.

"Conner, enough. We all get how you feel, but they've done everything we can," Kaldur said.

"Really? Cause, from where I'm standing, they've done nothing, " He said before turning his heated gaze to Batman, who stayed silent during all of this, "You're all a bunch of cowards."

"Conner!" Superman yelled.

"No, fuck all of you. I'll save Y/N myself if I have to," He said, before picking Y/N's unconscious body off the bed and exiting the med bay towards his room.

"Should we stop him?" Wally asked.

"No, let him go," Batman answered, "He needs time to cool down."

"He's right though, isn't he?" Dick asked, "We've been putting this off for too long. We've been waiting for the League to handle this, but they haven't done anything."

"We've been trying," Superman said.

"And, yet, you haven't gotten anywhere. Despite his reaction, Conner's right. You've just been sitting around and waiting for something to happen. What have you done to stop this from happening?" Wally asked with a pointed look.

"We've been trying to find evidence against Luthor, but he's been hiding it well. We need to find a way to expose him and bring him down without risking Y/N and his parents. We can't afford to lose this."

"Well, let's hope something can get figured out soon because I don't think Conner can handle any more of this. None of us can," Kaldur said, the tone of his words hanging heavy in the air as he and the rest of the team made their way out of the med bay as well.

Y/N had woken up a couple of hours later, finding himself being held by a softly snoring Conner whose grip around him was so secure, you'd think the Kryptonian was guarding a treasure.

He smiled at the sight, not wanting to disturb his boyfriend, but the Kryptonian sensed his movement and woke up. The second he laid eyes on you, a softness appeared on his face as he brought a hand to caress Y/N's face who smiled back at him while leaning into his hand.

"Should I be worried about this being a regular thing?"

Conner didn't respond, but the slight smile across his lips indicated he was happy to see Y/N could still make a joke out of anything. The younger boy started to look around, wondering how he even got there in the first place.

"What happened? Last thing I remember was being in training, and then nothing else," He asked, turning back to the Kryptonian.

Conner still didn't say anything, just leaned over and pressed a kiss against the boy's lips, forcing him to lay back as he positioned himself over him. Y/N wasn't complaining at the move, kissing back with as much fever and passion as the Kryptonian.

When he broke the kiss apart, Conner just leaned his head down into his neck while being careful not to lay all his weight on the boy, placing small kisses on his neck and breathing in his scent. Y/N brought his arms around the boy, giving small caresses to his back, sensing the boy needed this quiet moment.

He could tell whatever happened wasn't good, and it would likely upset Conner in talking about it. That's when he suggested going to the common room to watch TV, having more time to cuddle, and just relax after what must have been a stressful day. Plus, based on the way he was acting now, Y/N knew his boyfriend wasn't planning on letting him out of his sight for the rest of the night.

Without a word, Conner hopped up off the bed, picking his boyfriend up in his arms, and carrying him out of the room.

"You know, my legs work just fine. Just thought I should remind you," Y/N joked, finally getting a smile from the Kryptonian.

"Shut up and let me take care of you idiot."

"Whatever you say, honey."

"I hate that nickname."

Eventually, Y/N discovered what happened, after he practically had to force Conner to give him his phone which he needed to get back to his dorm and the Kryptonian all but exploded on him for even considering the idea of going back to that place. He knew the experiments were getting worse, and he could feel the effect it was having on his body.

The only thing he didn't realize was how much of an effect it was having on Conner and even his friends who all were concerned for his well being after watching him nearly split open his skull after fainting mid-flight and plummeting towards the ground. But, in the end, all he could think of was his parents and not putting them in danger.

It didn't matter though, because the Kryptonian had made his decision, and he made it clear not only to his boyfriend but to the rest of the team and their superiors. Either he goes with Y/N back to the school and stays with him full-time, or Y/N would remain at Mount Justice and transfer to Happy Harbor and they would just have to figure out another plan to protect his parents.

Surprisingly, he wasn't met with any opposition. Everyone agreed with him. While the League was still concerned about the potential consequences of these actions and the dangers they could bring, they realized their hesitance had already put Y/N in a more than dangerous position that could have cost him his life.

While the League still had a plan in motion and would be monitoring the situation, they knew things had escalated beyond their control. They decided to follow Conner's suggestion, having the Kryptonian pose as a transfer student, allowing him to attend the school and stay by his boyfriend's side.

He was moved into his own dorm with a roommate (despite his initial demands that he be placed in the same room as Y/N, but there was only so much they could do without raising heads) and placed in all his classes. Conner became like his personal bodyguard, making sure he was never alone or in the presence of anyone they didn't know or trust.

He was unpleasantly surprised to find out it was an all-boys school, and it only made the Kryptonian even more suspicious of his classmates, especially the ones who seemed too friendly or close to his boyfriend.

Y/N was not amused.

"Conner, please, stop glaring at everyone."

"I'm not glaring. I'm just observing."

"Observing, glaring. Same difference."

"What? They're all just staring at you. Like, they're undressing you with their eyes. It's disgusting. And you should've told me this was an all-boys school!"

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think it mattered. Plus, I knew you would react this way. Besides, they're not undressing me with their eyes."

"Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean they're not doing it. And what do you mean you knew I'd react this way?"

"Conner, sweetie, I love you, but you've got to be one of the most jealous people I've ever met."

"Okay, you're exaggerating. I don't get that jealous." Conner scoffed.

"Babe, you literally get upset because Wolf always wants to play with me more than he does with you."

"Okay, that's completely valid. I'm his owner or Alpha or whatever, but he only wags his tail excitedly when he sees or smells you coming."

"I've always been a dog person." Y/N shrugged.

"Yeah, well apparently, you're also gonna be the person who gets all these irritating fuckers sent to the nurse's office if they don't find somewhere else to look at."

Y/N rolled his eyes in amusement, "You're ridiculous."

"I'm your boyfriend."

"Exactly."

The Kryptonian couldn't argue with that, not that he would want to.

"I'm still not going to like this," Conner grumbled.

"Yeah, I know. And, I still love you."

"Good."

Looking on the brighter side, however, things were better with Conner attending the school. He was able to provide updates to the Team and League about what was happening, and the Kryptonian was always on high alert when Y/N was at the labs.

Plus, it was nice having the Kryptonian nearby. The fact that his boyfriend was always so close made Y/N feel safer and less stressed, and it gave the Kryptonian peace of mind knowing he was safe.

Of course, there were moments when Conner had to remind himself not to overreact, trying to control the situation, but he was getting better at it.

Ironically enough, Conner ended up becoming a little popular within the school, which should have been surprising. The Kryptonian was the picture-perfect American boy. He was athletic even if he didn't join any sports teams, most people just assumed from his muscular build. He possessed high intelligence thanks to his G-Gnome programming and was insanely attractive in the eyes of many.

Even though he wasn't exactly the most social, choosing to mostly keep to himself or stick by his boyfriend's side, many of the students and teachers slowly began to warm up to him. He was still a bit standoffish and awkward, but his protective nature towards his boyfriend was seen as endearing and adorable by his peers.

It was also envied and desired by many of their classmates. And since Conner was still convinced that certain boys in the school couldn't be trusted because of their obvious love-struck eyes for Y/N, it made him all the more surprised when he realized some of those looks were meant for himself. Much to the displeasure of his boyfriend, of course, which the Kryptonian took great pride in. It was satisfying knowing he wasn't the only jealous one in their relationship.

"You're jealous," The Kryptonian smirked at his boyfriend's irritable expression as they sat in the library studying.

"Am not," Y/N denied.

"Are too."

"And what makes you think that?" Y/N tried to show a neutral face, but Conner knew him too well and could see the visible anger twitching in his eyes.

"Well, for starters, you get this irritable look in your eye like the one you have now when someone tries to come up and talk to me. You looked about ready to blast my lab partner's head off in chemistry earlier today during our experiment. And you've been glaring at Logan for the past twenty minutes ever since he came over here and offered to study with us," Conner stated, his smirk growing bigger as he watched his boyfriend's cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment, "Now, you know how it feels."

"Okay, first of all, I got annoyed because they always came up and tried to talk to you when we were clearly in the middle of a conversation. That would irritate anyone, even a nun—"

"What do nuns have to do with this?"

"—Secondly, I was only looking at your lab partner like that because he kept popping his gum and you know the sound of the shit drives me crazy. Plus, he didn't need to position your chairs right next to each other during the experiment. And, I was not glaring at Liam, which is actually his name, by the way, I was just... observing."

"Observing?" The Kryptonian asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, observing. We're in a library, would you like me to grab you a dictionary? It's when you look at something or someone closely and with attention," Y/N stated, the sarcasm dripping off his words.

"Really? Because it looked more like this," Conner said, before he scrunched his eyebrows together, making a look of intense concentration, his eyes squinting, "Then, the person you were looking at would start to panic and freak out because it looked like you were going to attack them," Y/N held an unimpressed look while actively suppressing the amusing chuckles he felt rising in his stomach.

"Careful sweetie, hold that face for too long and it might get stuck like that," Y/N said.

"Very funny," Conner replied, before his eyes took on a mischievous glint, "I like it when you're jealous, though. Makes you even cuter."

Y/N let out a scoff, "I'm not cute, and I'm not jealous. And if you want to live to see tomorrow, you'll refrain from using those words again."

"Or what?" Conner challenged, a teasing smirk on his face.

"Or, I'll show you just how 'cute' I can be," Y/N threatened.

"Is that a promise or a threat? Cause, I'm hoping for the first one."

"You've been spending way too much time with Wally."

"Maybe. But, I'm not the one who's jealous," Conner said, his smirk still firmly in place.

"Shut up," Y/N said.

"You're cute."

"I'm not."

"Are too."

"Shut up."

"Never."

"Do you want to fight? Because the energy you're giving me right now says you want to fight."

"It's okay, babe. I am also a jealous boyfriend," Conner said.

"I'm so glad you've finally acknowledged it. You know they say the first step in the journey is acceptance and admittance," Y/N said, the sarcasm and humor evident in his voice.

"Whatever. At least I don't deny it like you."

"I've already told you I'm not jealous. You're the jealous one, not me," Y/N argued.

"Whatever you say, babe."

"I'm not!"

"You're so cute when you're in denial," Conner said, reaching a hand across the table and pinching his cheek.

"I will destroy you," Y/N threatened with a fake menacing tone.

"I'd like to see you try, cutie."

Y/N couldn't help but crack a smile at his boyfriend's antics.

"I love you," Y/N said.

"Love you too, even if you are a liar."

"Fuck off."

Across the room, the couple were not aware of the eyes on them as their peers watched them bicker back and forth.

"Ugh, can't those two ever get a room?"

Things seemed to be going well, but not all good things weren't meant to last forever.

Despite their moments of levity and fun, the experiments were still taking a toll on the boy. Y/N's powers were getting harder and harder to control, and the Kryptonian was constantly worried about the boy's safety and well-being.

One lesson Y/N took very seriously from Batman was to always trust his instincts and what his gut was telling him. Those same instincts were telling him that Lex was on to them if his feelings of dread and hyper awareness anytime he and Conner were in class, out on campus, or just anywhere outside of their dorms was anything to go off.

They'd also be fools not to see how just as much as their classmates were observing them, certain members of the faculty were watching them as well. The only thing they couldn't be certain of was if these people knew they were aware of them watching them. Of course, Y/N and Conner both knew the risks of having the Kryptonian on the campus more frequently and the increased chances that Lex would recognize him, even despite the changes in his appearance they did to throw him off.

The teacher and faculty agents the League had sent in were doing their best to uncover Luthor's plot, but even having them on campus watching out for him and Conner didn't do much to ease Y/N's nerves.

Little did he know how right he was to feel on edge.

During one of their sessions while Lex was in the observation room, his assistant came to him with a tablet, "Mr. Luthor, the surveillance footage you requested."

"Thank you. Any developments?"

"Actually, yes, sir. There's a new subject who has joined the school recently," The assistant said, showing footage of their subject eating lunch with the addition in question.

"What's so special about this one?" Lex asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched the two interact.

"From initial gatherings, nothing sir," Mercy said, swiping through the different video files they had recorded of Y/N and this new student around the school since his arrival, "But, after close observation and monitoring, we found the nature of their relationship to be more intimate than expected. And, after noting his unusual practice of never leaving the subject's side for more than a second and their frequent trips off campus together, we ran a facial recognition and found this." She swiped over to an old file from their Cadmus labs in Washington.

Lex's eyebrows raised in recognition while a knowing smile grew across his lips, "Ah, so it seems Project K.R. has gone and fallen in love with our little experiment. How interesting. Expected of course, which gives me a perfect opportunity."

"What would you like us to do, sir?"

"For now, continue monitoring. Keep a close eye on them. If our resident Superboy knows about him and is here assumingly to watch and protect him, we can only assume the League is on to us," Lex instructed, a hand to his chin as he thought over their moves before his usual knowing smirk returned to his face, "Also, reach out to the family of our subject. I do believe it's time we set up a parent-teacher conference."

Mercy nodded at the instructions, before turning to leave. Lex turned back to the one-sided window, watching as the scientists and doctors performed their tests and experiments on Y/N with a knowing smile. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, opening a message thread and pulling up a photo he received some weeks prior.

A cute and lovely photo it was too of Conner taking a selfie of him and Y/N who was seemingly caught off guard and trying to get the phone back. Lex smiled at the screen with a thoughtful gaze before making his way inside the experiment room, intending to have a little chat with his subject.

Y/N knew something was up, and the only small relief he had to his growing anxiousness was the fact that the League finally had come up with enough evidence and was now formulating a plan to end these experiments and take Luthor down, without risking his parents in the process. Only that seemed less likely when his parents suddenly showed up at the school the following week, surprising both their son and the Kryptonian who immediately became suspicious.

Apparently, Lex had decided to call a meeting with him and his parents to discuss his performance and results. And, if the uneasy dread in his stomach was correct, it definitely had nothing to do with his grades.

The agents immediately reported back to the League, and Conner was insistent that he and Y/N return to Mount Justice as soon as possible, almost certain that Lex was up to something. But, his boyfriend who just as much wanted to agree with the Kryptonian wouldn't allow it.

He was also very aware of the ominous feeling that Lex was setting up something, and that's why he had purposely invited Y/N's parents there. In the past year he'd spent with 'Uncle Lex', he'd gotten to know him pretty well, and getting to know him meant he got to see the parts of Luthor that were cold, calculating and always scheming.

Whether Lex was aware or not that Y/N could see these traits coming out at times, the young superhero noted it. And that's why he was certain he had no choice but to attend this meeting.

Lex got his parents involved for a reason, and he wasn't ready to find out what that reason was. But, Conner was not ready nor willing to let his teammate and boyfriend walk into an obvious trap. Despite his very strong feelings concerning the boy's parents and his wanting to give them a piece of his mind, Y/N's safety was his #1 priority. If his parents were in on the scheme, then any wrong move or miscalculated step could put him at risk, and that wasn't something the Kryptonian was willing to gamble on.

"No, you're not going," Conner stated, leaving no room for argument in his tone, despite knowing his boyfriend would still argue back with him.

"Yes, I am."

"Y/N, this is not up for discussion. You're not going, and that's final." Conner said, looking down straight into his boyfriend's eyes and not budging an inch. In any other scenario, he'd typically argue a little before giving in to the smaller male...not this time.

"Last time I checked, you were not my boss. And you know what will happen if I don't go. Lex will just end up coming after me and my parents," Y/N retorted.

"Fine. Then, I'm coming with you. End of discussion."

"Conner—"

"Y/N, I'm not letting you do this alone. End. Of. Discussion."

"Conner, I have to. You don't understand, he's got something planned and he's not stupid. He knows the League's onto him and this is basically his insurance policy. I can't let my parents get caught up in this," Y/N said, his decision final.

"And I can't let you get hurt," Conner yelled, grabbing Y/N by his shoulders and bringing him closer, his face showing his desperation while Y/N tried to push back the tears building in his eyes, "What if your parents are in on it and this is just you playing into all of their hands? You can't expect to believe that they have no idea what's going on and haven't noticed the condition you've been in all those times you went home."

"You don't think I haven't considered that?! I'm not stupid, Conner. But, if my parents are in on this, then that's something I'll just have to face the reality of. But, I'm their son, superpowers or not, I'm still their kid. That has to count for something," Y/N said, the tears no longer being held back as they broke free and ran down his face.

The Kryptonian softened at the sight and reached his hand up to wipe away the tears, before bringing the boy closer to him and embracing him, his arms wrapping around him as if trying to protect him from the entire world. Just like before, when they stood in the middle of his room at Mount Justice, only this time, the roles were reversed and Conner was the one comforting him.

Just like the many other teens and kids who had the blessing of being gifted with powers and abilities beyond the average human, it came with many circumstances, and sometimes those circumstances outweighed the benefits. As he'd come to learn, he wasn't the only one who had his fair share of daddy and mommy issues, didn't make it hurt any less though.

The idea that his parents couldn't accept him for who he was and would rather subject him to cruel and awful experiments, just to get rid of something they saw as an imperfection in him...stung, to say the least. It wouldn't be the first time he'd wondered about how his life would have turned out had he not had these powers, but he'd be lying if he said it hadn't crossed his mind that maybe his parents would be happier and more accepting.

That thought alone was what made him the most upset. Not the fact that they'd rather see him as a science experiment than their son, but the fact that they'd rather just erase him and get rid of him completely, even if it meant losing their son than having to face the idea of their child being different.

It was something he'd only admitted once before to Conner, and the Kryptonian could still recall the pain he felt at the admission. It was a pain so subtle, yet so raw and so deep that he could feel how much it affected his boyfriend, making his dislike turn to disdain, almost hatred towards his so-called 'parents.'

Now, in the face of everything, Y/N was slowly accepting it as his reality. The thought had been slowly settling in his mind more and more over the past year as these experiments continued. Conner was right. His parents had to have known something was up when they saw him come home the few times he did in the past few months.

If it was enough for his friends and his protectors from the Justice League to see, then they had to have noticed at some point. And the fact that he'd never seen them show any ounce of concern unless it was relating to the state of his 'undesirable traits' as stated by his mother told him everything he needed to know.

At any point, they'd probably agree with what Lex was doing, especially if they knew he was doing it to eliminate Superman and the Justice League. His parents weren't at risk. They never were.

But, the Justice League was.

His Team and friends were at risk.

Conner was at risk, and that was something he wasn't going to take any chance with no matter the cost to himself.

"My parents just texted. They're meeting with Lex in his office. I have to go," Y/N said, going to grab his things and head for the door.

"No, you don't," Conner said, pulling his boyfriend into his hold, "If you think I'm going to willingly let you walk into what's almost certainly a death sentence, then you actually are an idiot. We're going back to Mount Justice and telling the others what's going on."

"I can't, Conner. My parents are already on their way, and if I'm not there, they along with Lex are going to get suspicious. It's one thing if Lex knows about us and the League, but if my parents find out, then we're going to have an even bigger problem to deal with," Y/N argued, still trying to break free from the Kryptonian's embrace.

"And, what about when they figure out you're a superhero and are part of the team who's been working to bring them down? If you're going to that meeting, then I'm going with you, and if I have to, I'll protect them as well. It's not like I can't handle myself. Besides, you'll be there, and we're stronger together," Conner stated.

"No, absolutely not," Y/N refused.

"And why not?"

"Do you honestly think for one moment Lex hasn't prepared a thousand and one different contingency plans? Like I said before, if he invited my parents here, then he did it for a reason. And I'm willing to bet he's got plenty of different backups in case you, Superman, Batman, or anyone from the Team or League tries to intervene. I've spent the last year observing this man, Conner. He's smart, and he's always planning his next move. You should know that more than anyone!"

"Exactly, which is why I'm not going to let him hurt you."

"But, he'll hurt you if you're there! Do you not get it, Conner? If Lex sees you, he'll use you against me. Do you not understand that? If you show up to that meeting, he'll have all the leverage he needs to take everything from me. Despite my not wanting to believe it could be true, I have to accept the reality that my parents may actually be 100% totally on Lex's side, so he won't be able to use them effectively against me like he could if they weren't, which gives me an advantage. An advantage that goes straight out the window if you're there," Y/N explained, hoping the Kryptonian would listen.

"You're not invincible, Conner. Your abilities might rival Superman's, but Lex created you. Even if M'Gann removed all the programming the G-Gnomes did to you before that gave him control over you, Lex still knows how to get to you in ways I couldn't even imagine. And that scares the shit out of me. I can't lose you. I can't," Y/N cried, finally breaking down and dropping his body fully into his boyfriend's arms.

Conner's heart ached at the words, never feeling as helpless and weak as he did at that moment. It seemed no matter how much he tried to protect his boyfriend and keep him safe, all his efforts were in vain, and both of them were at risk of losing the other.

It was amazing how only a year together could bring two individuals who hadn't known each other and were seemingly doing just fine on their own before, could reach a point where they felt like they couldn't go on without the other, and just the thought of was enough to send them down a spiral of panic and misery.

Conner wrapped both his arms around Y/N's waist at that moment, holding him in what could be considered a lethally crushing embrace while digging his face into the smaller boy's neck. His boyfriend never complained though, holding on to his Kryptonian just as tight while rubbing his hands through his hair and up and down his back, his tears still falling silently down his face.

The Kryptonian couldn't hold back his own tears as he felt them drop down his face, hiding his face even further to prevent his boyfriend from seeing him cry. One of them had to be strong for the other, and Conner decided it would always be him. It was what he was made for. His grip grew tighter with every second as he fought the urge to just break through the window and run off with his boyfriend, hiding them away forever.

He wanted nothing more than to take him away from all this. To take him somewhere far away from all the danger and chaos that plagued their lives and just live. The fantasy of having a simple life with Y/N and getting married, settling down, and starting a family was the only thing he could think about now.

"I love you, Conner. You've done a great job at protecting me so far, but, just this once, let me protect you. Let me keep you safe," Y/N whispered, his voice strained and hoarse.

"I love you, Y/N. I promise we'll figure this out, and we'll have that forever we talked about before. Just wait for me," Conner said, pulling back just enough so he could look the smaller boy in the eye, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, his cheeks, and the tip of his nose, before finally landing on his lips.

"With open arms," Y/N replied, the smile on his face bittersweet, yet full of love and promise.

"With open arms," Conner repeated, the tears still running down his face, and his arms still refusing to let go of the boy.

The two embraced in a bruising kiss, one full of desperation and pain, and a silent promise. When the kiss broke, Y/N pulled the Kryptonian into his chest, his fingers running through his dark hair and rubbing small circles on his back, and Conner closed his eyes, allowing the touch to soothe him, wishing he could stay there forever.

"That was so cheesy," Y/N chuckled messily through his tears.

"You were the one who said it," Conner smiled, his eyes still closed as he buried his face into his boyfriend's chest.

"Shut up," Y/N laughed lightly, his hands still rubbing Conner's back.

"I'll let you go, but only on one condition," The Kryptonian spoke, his eyes opening and looking into the eyes of the boy in his arms.

Y/N looked at him, holding back a sad chuckle, knowing the Kryptonian wouldn't let it go easily, "What is it?"

"You have to let Batman and one of our friends go with you, just as a backup. They don't have to go with you inside the meeting, but I'll feel better knowing you have some sort of reinforcement. And the only other option if you don't agree to that is me throwing you over my shoulder and taking you back to Mount Justice."

Y/N almost opened his mouth to argue but held back his words, knowing Conner wouldn't budge and would likely follow through on his threat. He sighed, knowing the Kryptonian wouldn't let him do this alone, despite his protests.

"Okay," He relented, hoping for once that his boyfriend could not read him as easily as he did.

"Promise me," Conner said, the determination and stubbornness still present in his eyes, "You promise me, okay? Promise me, you won't go alone," He demanded.

Y/N nodded, "I promise."

"No, say it. I need to hear it," Conner ordered.

"I won't go alone, Conner. I promise."

"Good," Conner sighed, his grip on his boyfriend relaxing, "Now, who are you going to bring with you?"

"Wally, I think," Y/N answered, "He's fast and can get me out of there pretty quickly if things get out of hand."

"Fine, but just know, if anything happens, I'll come and get you myself," Conner declared.

"I know. But, I'll be okay. Everything will be fine," Y/N reassured, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Conner said before getting up, "Now, you stay here, and do not go to that meeting until I'm back with Batman and Wally. Got it?"

Y/N rolled his eyes playfully, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Remember what you promised," Conner said, before leaning forward and kissing his boyfriend again, the kiss much sweeter and calmer than the one before, but with the same amount of passion and love behind it. He pulled away, giving his boyfriend one last glance before heading out of the room.

That was the last time he saw Y/N.

Conner wasted no time in getting back to the Zeta Gateway to Mount Justice, not caring who saw him leaping across the campus and the city. When he finally made it back to the Cave, he explained the situation and demanded Batman and Wally return with him. Wally had no problem going along with it, not liking the fact that his friend was being put in danger, and not caring that the Kryptonian's protective nature was kicking in, knowing they were all a little protective of their teammate and friend.

Batman needed a few more details, but when he had the whole story, he immediately called in Superman along with the rest of the Team. Conner truly didn't care at that moment, as long as they got back before Y/N did something stupid. Despite the smaller boy's wishes, they were not granted, as the Kryptonian could clearly see his boyfriend was planning something.

When they made it back, Batman held back, opting for Robin to go in his place with him, Conner, and Wally.  The three boys, each now dressed in their Team attire made their way to Y/N's dorm, only to find it empty, their teammate nowhere in sight. Conner had to physically hold back from tearing the entire school apart.

"Where the fuck is he?!" Conner screamed, his patience and concern growing thin.

"Calm down, Supey. He probably saw we were coming and made his way to the meeting. Let's just follow the plan and get there so we can be ready to jump in when he needs us," Kid Flash said, trying to calm the Kryptonian down.

"Where's the meeting at?" Robin asked.

Conner took a few deep breaths, trying to get ahold of himself, "He told me it was in Luthor's office. Knowing him, he probably lied thinking I would've gone after him by myself. I'll bet they're meeting in the science building where they've been doing the experiments," He theorized.

"Then, what are we waiting for?" Kid Flash said before the trio made their way over, alerting Batman, Superman, and the rest of their team.

But, by the time they made it, it was too late.

On the outside, the building looked fine. But, on the inside, everything was destroyed. It almost looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off inside the building. The testing lab, where they usually performed the experiments on Y/N was in even worse shape than the rest of the building.

All the equipment and furniture was completely demolished, and the one-sided mirror Lex would watch from was shattered, with a small hole in the wall behind it, indicating the explosion came from the inside.

There were scorch marks everywhere, the smell of burnt metal and plastic filling the air as the four boys walked around the scene. The League had already contacted the police and the fire department, and the school's administration was currently being investigated and questioned by the local authorities.

They couldn't find Y/N though. They managed to find students and faculty who were in the building and trapped under rubble. They found some of the scientists hiding in various spots in the destroyed wreckage of the room like they were trying to shield themselves from the damage.

They even managed to locate Mercy Graves, who was unconscious in the rubble.

But, no signs of their missing friend and teammate.

No trace of Lex Luthor or Y/N's parents either which made the rising anger and panic Superboy was feeling reach astronomical levels.

"Where the hell is he?!" Conner shouted, his patience finally giving out and the anger and concern he'd been feeling the past hour finally bubbling over.

"Superboy, calm down," Batman said, "We'll find him."

"And how can you be so sure? We've been looking for over an hour, and there's no sign of him," Conner yelled, the worry and concern in his voice very clear.

"Superboy, relax. We'll find him, don't worry," Superman said, only to be interrupted by the groan of an awakening Mercy Graves.

"You won't find him," She said, coughing a few times and holding her head as she sat up.

Superboy made his way over to the woman, grabbing her off the ground and throwing her against one of the few remaining walls in the room.

"Superboy!" Batman shouted.

"Where is he," Superboy growled, ignoring his mentor and leader's warnings.

"I told you, you won't find him," Mercy said, smiling through her bloody and bruised lips.

Superboy, very much past his limit, wrapped his hand around the woman's throat, lifting her into the air, "Tell me where he is right now, or I promise I will choke the life out of you right now and enjoy doing it."

By the tone of his voice and the warning squeeze he gave around her throat that had the bodyguard wincing in pain, he was not bluffing.

"Superboy, stand down! We need her to talk," Superman ordered.

"Why? She clearly knows something and she's not telling us," Superboy retorted, a dark and ominous tone to his voice no one had ever heard from him before as he watched the tears build in her eyes from not being able to breathe, "Might as well make sure she never speaks another word again. Save us all the trouble."

"And how will that help you find him?" Batman asked.

"It won't. But, I'll feel a lot better," The half-Kryptonian said, turning his attention back to Mercy, who was trying her best to remove the hand from her throat.

"Superboy, release her and stand down now. That's an order," Batman said.

He seemingly was done listening to them though, his anger-filled gaze focused solely on the woman choking and gasping for breath as her throat was crushed slowly under his grip.

"Superboy, that's enough. You're going to kill her," Batman said, trying to reason with his clone.

"So, what? She's not telling us anything, and she's working for Lex. Who cares if she dies?"

"We need her alive. If she knows something, then we have other ways of getting her to talk. But, if you kill her, you may lose your only chance at finding him. Now, let her go," Superman ordered.

Everyone stood still at that moment, the sounds of debris flying and police sirens drowned out by the struggling noises coming from Lex's bodyguard as she fought to keep herself awake and alive under the deathly grip the Kryptonian had her in. His face was hard, his rage clear as day and not showing any signs of relenting.

Batman was prepared to use external measures, signaling Robin when the Kryptonian suddenly backed off. He released his grip over the woman's throat, letting her fall to the ground as she gasped and coughed for breath. Without another word, Superboy walked out of the room, not turning back as his peers and mentors stared after him in worry.

Superman had to stop him from tearing apart the entire school, as Conner was resigned to doing whatever he could to find his teammate and lover, at whatever cost. Thankfully, Batman was smart in bringing the others along as they were all able to assist in subduing him before anything else got destroyed or someone else got hurt in the process.

it wasn't easy for any of them, as they could understand the world of anger and hurt he was in. It was even harder when Batman gave them all pieces of Kryptonite to subdue him, making it easier for them to take him back to Mount Justice while they wrapped up their investigations.

They weren't able to get much out of Mercy, as she apparently wasn't present for the entire meeting and had only just returned before everything went to hell. She knew some details of Luthor's plans but not everything, but she wasn't the only one they apprehended. They detained some of the scientists who were working on the experiments themselves and brought them in for questioning.

"The experiments were designed to remove the subject's powers and abilities, as requested by his parents. Make no mistake, Mr. Luthor had no plans to deceive Mr. & Mrs. L/N. He had full intentions of honoring their wishes and returning their son to them as a normal child with no powers. However, his motives for doing so were not exactly what they may have thought. Mr. Luthor didn't just intend to remove the young boy's powers, he meant to extract them and duplicate them, hoping to copy those abilities into a new generation of Genomorph clones."

This wasn't news. They knew most of this already, but the truth spell Zatanna cast seemingly worked, as they hadn't gotten this much detail out of the assistant/bodyguard before. Conner couldn't care less though.

All he was concerned about was any information she had that could lead them to finding Y/N. It became all he cared about.

But, it seemed all Batman, Superman, and his so-called friend cared about were the experiments that were performed on him. Experiments that they allowed to go on for more than a year.

"Mr. Luthor theorized the key to extraction and duplication in the matter of the subject's abilities lay within the source of his powers. Only after several experiments were the scientists assigned to the matter able to narrow the source down to a matter of three categories. Genetic Inheritance, Biomolecular Engineering, or Magic. While the direct source was never identified, they had created many different strategies to test extraction and duplication before Mr. Luthor eventually found the correct one, which was the reason for his invitation to the subject's parents. However, one variable was unaccounted for."

"What was it?" Superman asked.

"Though it was never discovered what the source of the subject's abilities was, we did discover various effects and consequences of a potential pathogen that was destroying our serums and nullifying our experiments, which caused almost irreversible damage on the subject and potentially his power source as well. We realized the subject's body was now not only fighting against our serums and experiments, it was rejecting its own innate abilities, essentially fighting a war within itself. It was theorized that since the serums were designed to essentially tamper with the subject's powers, and the body was actively trying to expel the serums, it as a result tried to expel a part of itself as well. This caused substantial side effects, and Mr. Luthor was forced to postpone the achievement of his ultimate goal until he could be sure the subject would not die before extraction and duplication were complete."

The dilutions they were giving Y/N. The S.T.A.R. Labs scientists were right all along. And if they hadn't stopped giving Y/N the solutions when they did, they could've actually killed him from the inside.

Suddenly, everyone was grateful when Conner didn't stick around for the interrogations like he planned to, or else none of them knew how he'd react. If the way he almost crushed Mercy's throat against the wall when she wouldn't answer him was anything to go by, they'd rather not find out. Dick, Kaldur, and Wally already had a taste of it once.

They weren't keen on experiencing it again.

"What was the last thing you saw before the explosion?" Batman asked.

"Mr. Luthor had the subject restrained. He'd had him injected with the final serum, a special concoction our scientists had developed. It was supposed to neutralize the subject's powers and allow us to safely extract them. Once the extraction was complete, the subject would have been returned to his parents, and the serum would have been used to create a new generation of Genomorphs with the subject's powers that would be under Mr. Luthor's complete and total control. However, when the extraction began, something went wrong and the subject's body reacted negatively, causing his powers to go haywire, causing the explosion. I was knocked out during the blast and only woke up after your arrival. When I came to, the room was destroyed, and the subject was nowhere to be found along with Mr. Luthor and his parents. That's all I remember."

"Do you have any idea where they could've gone?"

"It is likely Mr. Luthor took himself and the subjects to safety in one of his remote locations. He is a very resourceful man and had me arrange means of emergency transportation and shelter in case anything grew out of his control. I would have been the one to escort him if I had not been caught in the blast myself. As for the subject himself, one of our scientists has summarized that he was likely vaporized from the overflux of power. The chance of his survival is almost non-existent."

A solemn mood fell over everyone at the news. Zatanna and M'Gann were distraught at the news while Artemis did her best to hide how crushed she was. Dick, Kaldur, and Wally were no better, each expressing their own forms of grief in different ways.

Batman, Superman, Flash, and the other members of the League were also plagued with remorse and guilt at the verdict. It was their fault. Especially the first three since they were the ones who brought Y/N into all of this in the first place.

And despite all the pain and anguish they were all feeling, they knew it wouldn't compare to how Conner would feel. No of them had the heart to tell him either way.

How do you tell someone the love of their life is dead?

No one had the answer, but it seemed, they didn't need it in the first place. When Conner returned to find out what Mercy and the scientists had said, all it took was one look around the room, seeing the red and wet eyes and the looks of despair on all their faces, and he just knew.

He didn't need anyone to tell him.

He didn't need the confirmation.

He didn't need anything.

Except maybe the ability to turn back time.

Because, if he could, he would've gone back and stopped Y/N from going to that meeting. He would've done what he wanted to do in the first place and just tossed the stubborn boy over his shoulder and taken him far away, somewhere safe and hidden, and never let him leave. He would've stayed with him forever, and they would've lived happily ever after.

Somehow, no one was surprised when Conner made for the vehicle hangar, clearly intending to leave.

"Where are you going?" Superman asked.

"I'm going to find him," Conner replied, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion.

"Conner, there's no point. We've searched everywhere. There's no trace of him, and Mercy said-"

"I don't give a shit what Mercy said! I'm going to find him, and I'm going to bring him home. I'm not giving up on him," Conner shouted, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

He was on Sphere, aka Super-Cycle, and out the door before any of them had the chance to argue.

When he didn't return for almost an entire day, they knew they had to go looking for the Kryptonian. They figured the best place to start would be Y/N's home city, the school, and certain areas around Happy Harbor.

They were right, though they didn't find him exactly where they thought.

After searching the school and their old dorm rooms, all of which showed clear signs of the Kryptonian's presence if the various holes in the wall and broken furniture were any indication. Yet, nothing of Y/N's was touched or destroyed. In fact, lots of it was neatly put together and packed away, as if someone was coming back for it. They figured Conner planned to take his stuff back to the Cave and keep it as mementos to his lost love.

It wasn't until they were flying back toward the Cave when Dick spotted him in a very familiar area. He was sitting on the ground, staring at the sky while leaning against the same tree he and the others had tied Y/N to when they thought he was a mole.

"Hey, guys, I found him," Dick said, "He's at the park."

"Alright, we'll meet you there," Batman replied over the comms.

"No, wait. Don't come here. Just...just stay where you are. I'll handle this," Robin said, his voice low and sad.

"Are you sure, Robin?" Aqualad asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll call you if I need you," Robin said before instructing M'Gann to land the Bioship a little bit away. He knew Conner would notice their arrival, but he figured it'd be easier if he just went himself.

"Hey, Supey," Robin called out, walking up to the Kryptonian.

"Go away, Dick," Conner said, his voice still cold and empty.

"I'm not going anywhere, Conner. Not until you talk to me," Robin said, sitting down next to the Kryptonian.

"I don't want to talk. I just want to be alone," Conner said.

"Well, you can be alone with a friend nearby. I'm not leaving, and neither are the others. We're worried about you, and we're not going to leave you alone. You're not the only one who's hurting, Conner. We all are. But, we're not going to get through this if we don't stick together. So, please, just talk to me. Let me help you," Robin pleaded.

"I don't need help. I need to find him," Conner said, his voice cracking a bit.

"Conner, we've looked everywhere. There's no sign of him. Even the League is looking, and they haven't found anything. There's nothing left to look for," Robin said, his voice soft and gentle.

"That's because they're not looking hard enough. I know he's out there. I can feel it. I can feel him. I can't explain it, but I know he's alive," Conner said, his voice growing firm.

"Conner, I know you want to believe that, but-"

The Boy Wonder was made silent when a folder piece of paper was shoved against his chest. When Conner didn't look back at him and just continued looking toward the sky, Dick figured he wanted him to read whatever he just gave him.

So, he did.

"Is this—"

"A fake letter someone tried to make imitating Y/N so I'd think he was dead? Yeah, it is," Conner answered, his voice still cold and devoid of emotion.

"But, how did you know?"

"I didn't. Not at first. When I got back to his dorm to see if I could find him or anything that would lead to him, I found that waiting for me on the bed. I started to read it, but I could barely get past the first three sentences without wanting to rip it to shreds. It sounded nothing like him. Nothing like the way he talked, not to mention the handwriting was too perfect," Conner explained, his voice growing softer and more emotional.

"So, someone wrote a fake letter to make you think Y/N was dead?" Dick had to admit, what Conner was saying wasn't completely off-track. He'd only known Y/N for a little over a year, but reading this letter, he agreed with the Kryptonian it sounded nothing like their teammate. But, then an image of the destroyed lab flashed in his head, and then Mercy's absolute sureness that he couldn't survive the blast...

"Ok, I see what you mean, but—"

"But, what?! What, Dick," Conner snapped, turning to his friend with a glowering look, "You think I'm crazy? You think I'm delusional? You think I'm making this up? Let me be clear since I wasn't before; if I really thought and believed Y/N was dead, I'd have gone and finished choking the life out of his useless assistant and went looking for any possible trace of Lex Luthor so I could stick my fist through his chest and God knows what if I managed to find his sorry excuse of parents."

Dick was taken aback by the Kryptonian's words, not expecting the sudden outburst.

"He's alive, Dick. And I'm going to find him," Conner stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. The only person who'd ever be able to argue against him was lost somewhere, the Kryptonian was convinced of this, and no one but Y/N would be able to convince him otherwise.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Before anyone knew it, a year had gone by, and no sign of Y/N had turned up.

It was hard to watch for many of the members of their team. Some of them wanted to believe Conner was right and actively helped him in his search for the first few months, but when they kept running into dead end after dead end, they slowly lost hope. Choosing to deal with their feelings of loss and move on with their lives instead of chasing someone they were positive wasn't coming back.

Conner didn't share the same sentiment. In -act, he was more than angry with his so-called 'friends' when they had all but thrown in the towel.

"You're just giving up on him?!" Conner yelled, his anger and frustration clear.

"We're not giving up, Conner. We're just trying to move on," M'Gann said, her voice calm and gentle.

"Move on? Move on?! How can you even say that? You're literally just giving up on him!"

"Conner, we're not giving up. We're just accepting the circumstances and choosing to move on," Zatanna said, her voice calm and understanding.

"He's not gone! He's not dead! He's not!"

"Dude, we're not saying he's dead. If he is alive, we don't think he's coming back," Wally spoke, trying to choose his words carefully.

"What the hell is the difference?!"

"The difference is that we're accepting that he's not coming back. And we're not going to waste our lives waiting for him," Artemis said, her voice a little more firm and serious.

"Waste our lives? You're calling looking for him a waste of time?!"

"No one said that Conner," Kaldur spoke, throwing a pointed look toward the blonde archer, "We're just saying that we've been looking for him for a year, and we haven't found anything. We've looked everywhere, and we've come up with nothing. We've exhausted every option, and we're not getting anywhere. We're not saying he's dead, but we can't spend the rest of our lives looking for him either," He explained.

"No, I've been looking for him for a year. You all gave up on him after the first few months," Conner yelled at his teammates.

"Conner, we didn't give up on him. We're just trying to move on," M'Gann repeated.

"And what if it was one of you? Would you have wanted us to give up on you then? Huh?!"

"Of course not, but-"

"Then, why are you giving up on him?"

"Because, it's not the same, Conner. It's not the same," Dick said, his voice a little louder and firmer than the others.

"No, it is the same. Fine! Give up for all I care. I didn't need your help anyway," The Kryptonian said, turning his back on his friends and walking away.

"Conner, wait," M'Gann called out, but the Kryptonian ignored her, continuing his walk.

"Let him go, M'Gann. He needs some time," Kaldur said, placing a comforting hand on the Martian's shoulder.

"But, we can't just let him go. He's not thinking clearly," She argued.

"He's not thinking at all," Artemis said, her arms crossed.

"Artemis," Kaldur warned.

"What? It's true. Have none of you paid attention for the past year?! He won't even consider the possibility that Y/N is dead," She said.

"He's not ready to accept that," Zatanna spoke, her voice quiet and solemn.

"Well, he's going to have to. We can't keep doing this. We can't keep chasing after him. We have lives, and we have missions, and we can't keep putting them on hold," Artemis said.

"She's right," Wally said, earning a surprised look from his girlfriend, "I want Y/N to be alive just as much as any of us, but we can't keep doing this. We can't keep chasing him. We have other things to worry about. We have school, jobs, missions, and families. We can't keep putting them on hold."

"I agree," Kaldur said, "As much as I hate to say it, we have to move on. We have to accept the fact that he's not coming back."

Everyone else murmured their agreement, while M'Gann still looked a bit hesitant.

"What do we do about Conner? He's not going to give up."

"I say we give him another month, and if hasn't come around, then we have an intervention and force him to wake up to reality," Artemis suggested.

"That might be a bit much," Zatanna said.

"Well, what do you suggest? We can't just let him keep going on like this. He's not going to stop, and he's not going to listen to us. We have to do something," Artemis argued.

"I agree, but I don't think an intervention is the best idea," Kaldur said.

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"I think we should just give him some space. Let him cool off and come to terms with the situation on his own."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then, we intervene."

Things didn't get better as Artemis predicted.

With it seemingly just being himself now that his friends had given up, Conner had become even more obsessed with finding Y/N. He'd slowly done another 180 and turned into a worse version of himself when he came out of the pod.

His temper was back and stronger than ever. He barely spent time around his friends, and he was making rash decisions on missions. Black Canary and Superman both tried to intervene to talk to him, even looking into getting professional psychiatric counseling to help Conner deal with his grief.

None of it worked.

Everyone knew how much he loved—how much he loves—Y/N.

They knew how much he cared about him.

They knew how much he didn't want to believe what happened just as much as they knew he wouldn't accept it.

Conner refused to believe it.

He didn't want to.

He couldn't.

He wouldn't.

He wouldn't believe it until he saw the body.

Until he held him in his arms.

Until he could feel his heartbeat or no heartbeat at all.

His teammates and mentors could intervene all they wanted, it wasn't going to change anything. Either Conner was going to find Y/N, or he was going to die trying. Simple as that.

All the Kryptonian could think about was Y/N and the idea of him being lost and alone somewhere in the world, without him or anyone else to help him. He already failed him once, he wasn't going to do it again.

Even while going through the old interrogation videos they had on file from the scientists and Mercy Graves from the day of the accident, he was thinking about Y/N and the moments they used to share.

Their sparring sessions which frequently ended with them play-wrestling and making out on the floor or against the cave walls. All their dates into Happy Harbor whenever Y/N had free time and didn't have to report back to his school immediately that night. Their movie nights where they'd cuddle and watch all of Y/N's favorite movies and shows wanted, and Conner would pretend to hate it but secretly enjoyed it.

He'd even randomly found himself watching more of the show with the talking sponge and sea creatures, which he still had a hard time understanding. He just knew his favorite episode was always the one he remembered watching with Y/N when they were cuddled on the couch after his near accident that same day.

Y/N was lying against a pillow on the arm of the sofa while Conner lay on top of him, resting between his legs. The Kryptonian's head of dark hair was laid on his chest, and his arms wrapped around the waist of his body, like a child hugging their favorite teddy bear.

He had his arms rested over Conner's shoulders, one of his hands rubbing up and down the Kryptonian's back while the other massaged his head, fingers threading through his dark hair while they watched the ‘Graveyard Shift' episode from Spongebob Squarepants.

“I still don’t get it,” Conner spoke gruffly,  “How is he a talking sponge? What gives him the ability to speak and walk?

The smaller boy chuckled at his words, feeling how the Kryptonian nuzzled his head against his chest from the vibration of his laughs.

“I don’t know. It’s a cartoon. Not everything is supposed to make sense.”

“How am I supposed to follow along if I don’t get how the world functions?” He responded, taking one of his arms from under you to gesture at the TV. You couldn’t help the sigh and eye roll that came from your lips at your boyfriend’s antics.

As Spongebob screamed frantically while running to throw the trash out, Y/N removed his hand from Conner’s head to grab his phone off the coffee table. His baby of a Kryptonian let out a disgruntled noise, raising his head to look at him with one of his signature frowns, “Oh, calm down, you big baby. I was just grabbing my phone.” He laughed.

Conner found himself smiling at the memory, always remembering how the sound of Y/N's laugh brought him happiness, despite his occasional grumpiness from losing his head rubs.

He swore for a quick moment he could even remember the feeling of the smaller male's hands running across his head, rubbing his scalp, and playing with different sections of his hair.

It was one of the many memories he had of the two of them, and he cherished each and every one.

He'd never forget the way Y/N's eyes lit up when he talked about his favorite shows and movies, or the way his face would scrunch up in concentration when he was working on a particularly difficult math problem. He always hated math.

Conner would never forget the way his heart would race and his stomach would flutter when he'd catch the smaller boy staring at him, or the way his cheeks would flush and his lips would curl into a smile when he'd catch him. He'd never forget the way his body felt pressed against his, or the way his lips tasted, or the way his skin felt under his fingertips.

The way his name sounded rolling off his tongue, or the way his voice sounded when he was moaning his name. He'd never forget the way his touch made him feel, or the way his presence made him feel. He'd never forget the way his love made him feel.

A particular memory came to mind when Conner was attending the boarding school to watch and protect his boyfriend. It was one of the last peaceful nights he remembered having with him before Y/N found out his parents were coming to the school and their lives were turned upside down.

They were thinking of their lives at the school, wondering what their lives would be like if they didn't have to worry about Lex or his parents. It was something of a dream.

Like a little teaser into what their lives would be like when they were past this entire mess. When all was said and done, Y/N fully intended to follow through on his boyfriend's many invitations to move into the Cave and transfer to Happy Harbor. He definitely wouldn't go back to living with his parents, even if they had changed their minds and views on superheroes and the Justice League.

It was something he and the Kryptonian talked about often, even more, when they found moments of quiet on campus and even before.

The couple was currently lying in Conner's dorm room on his bed, the Kryptonian holding his smaller boyfriend against his body as he slowly regained his strength after another testing session that almost sent him into a mild seizure. Lex was only getting more determined and ruthless in these experiments, throwing all caution to the wind and instructing the scientists to use whatever they had.

Conner was more than angry and was ready to find the bald man and rip his head off his body, but he knew Y/N needed him more at that moment. One of the undercover League agents knew what was going on and supplied the Kryptonian with emergency tools that the scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs said it would be safe to use in case Y/N had any bad reactions to some of the tests.

Thankfully, Conner's roommate was gone for the night, so they didn't have to worry about him coming back. They lay on his bed in quiet, both staring out the large window of the dorm at the bright moon in the cloudless sky. Y/N's body was racked with a small shudder and/or twitch now and then, but for the most part, he was calm and he was comfortable feeling completely at peace and safe in the Kryptonian's arms.

Something was on his mind though, something the Kryptonian could tell he was waiting to ask as he felt his boyfriend's fingers tapping softly against pec, "What's on your mind, babe?"

The smaller boy felt a small smile spreading across his face, the blushing feeling in his chest at how well his boyfriend knew him, sensing when he had something that was bothering him or just weighing on his mind, "Why couldn't we just stay in your room that night forever?"

The Kryptonian couldn't help but smile at the memory, "If I remember correctly, that's exactly what I was trying to get you to agree to, but someone wanted to be stubborn."

"That someone has a name, thank you," He said, his voice muffled slightly, but the humor was still evident.

"Yeah, and they're also an idiot," Conner retorted, feeling the light smack against his chest.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," Conner responded.

"No, I don't," Y/N confirmed.

The air was silent for a moment, as they just lay there in each other's presence, holding on to as much of the peaceful moment as they could, knowing at some point, reality would come knocking to pull them out of the safe space that was each other's presence.

"You know we can have that, right?" Conner asked.

Y/N looked up at his Kryptonian, "Have what?"

"Forever. Like you said that night in my room, we can have that. You can stay at the Cave with me, Zatanna, and M'Gann and you can share my room with me. You can transfer to Happy Harbor and we can go to school together. I'll even join the football team and let you be my cheerleader like in all those dumb movies you have me watch with you," Conner explained, his voice growing softer as he laid out their future together.

"First off, don't act like you don't enjoy those movies just as much as I do. Secondly, if anything, I'd be on the football team and you'd be my cheerleader," Y/N retorted, the Kryptonian scoffing at the mere idea of that even happening, "And, lastly, don't think I'm not on to you and you're real intentions of trying to get me to share a room with you."

Conner's mischievous smile along with his peculiar hand placement gave away the Kryptonian's thoughts at his boyfriend's words, "I have no idea what you're suggesting. But, even if I did, I'm your boyfriend, so I'd argue that I'm allowed to have those intentions."

"And that's why I'll be making sure I get my own room," Y/N smirked.

"Not if I can help it," Conner retorted, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's lips.

"You're impossible," Y/N said, his voice soft and his eyes full of love.

"But, you love me," Conner replied, his voice equally as soft and his eyes full of love.

"I do," Y/N said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too," Conner said, his voice matching his boyfriend's, leaning down to press another kiss, this one deeper against the smaller boy's lips.

"We'll have that, right? We'll have our forever?" Y/N asked when they eventually broke apart.

"Of course, we will. I promise," Conner said, his voice firm and his eyes serious.

"Good," Y/N said, his voice soft and his eyes full of hope and love.

"Good," Conner repeated, his voice soft and his eyes full of love.

"Hey, Supey, you in here?" Wally's voice called out, startling the Kryptonian from his memories.

He and Dick walked into the mission room, finding the Kryptonian standing in front of the computer, watching the interrogation videos.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching the interrogation videos," Conner answered, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.

"Again? Dude, you've watched those a million times. You're not going to find anything new," Wally said, his voice a bit exasperated.

"Maybe not, but I'm not going to stop looking," Conner said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Dude, you can't keep torturing yourself like this. We've exhausted every option, and haven't gotten anywhere. Maybe you're right, and he's not actually dead. But, if he hasn't come back yet, maybe it's time for you to move on. You can't spend the rest of your life looking for him," Wally said, his voice a bit firmer and more serious.

"And did you ever consider that maybe he hasn't come back because he's being held captive, and hasn't managed to escape?" Conner asked, not even turning an eye to the speedster as he continued watching the videos.

"Yes, we have considered the idea. But, have you considered the possibility that he actually may just be dead?" Wally blurted.

Conner visibly tensed at the suggestion, Dick throwing a nervous look toward the speedster who looked well aware and positively anxious at his word choice. A few moments of silence passed as the next video loaded, neither of the two males knowing what to say before the Kryptonian replied.

"He's not dead."

"And how do you know that?" Dick asked softly.

"Because I just do, Dick. Alright, is that good enough for the two of you?" Conner snapped.

"No, it's not," Wally spoke, his voice a bit firmer, "You do realize it's scientifically impossible for you to have some psychic connection that tells you if Y/N is alive. You need to face reality."

"Dude, back off," Dick said, seeing how the speedster's words were starting to get to the Kryptonian.

"No, I'm not backing off. He needs to hear this. He's not going to wake up and accept the facts until someone makes him," Wally argued.

"Okay, KF. I get what you mean. But, this isn't going to help anything." Dick tried to warn his friend of the increasingly agitated Kryptonian, but it seemed Wally also was no longer listening.

"Face the facts, Conner. He's not coming back. And, if he is, which is highly unlikely, it's not going to be anytime soon. You can't keep doing this. We're all worried about you. You need help, man," Wally said.

"Wally, dude seriously, chill out," Dick said.

"What I need is for you to leave me alone," Conner growled, his hands clenched into fists.

"I'm not going to leave you alone. Not until you accept the truth. He's gone, Conner. And, he's not coming back," Wally said, his voice stern and unwavering.

"No's he not," Conner said, his voice low and his tone dangerous.

"Then, where is he?! Huh, Conner?! Where is he?!"

"KF, cut it out."

"What's going on in here?" Kaldur said, entering the mission room along with the girls.

"Nothing," Conner growled, his eyes turning back to the screen.

"It doesn't sound like nothing," Artemis said, her arms crossed.

"Well, it is. So, leave me alone," Conner said, his voice a bit louder and his tone a bit harsher.

"Conner, are you alright?" M'Gann asked, her voice soft and concerned.

"I'm fine," He growled.

"Are you sure? Because you're not acting like it," Artemis said, her voice a little more firm.

"Artemis," Kaldur warned.

"No, she's right. He's not," Wally said, "He's been watching the interrogation videos again."

"Dude," Dick turned to his friend with a warning tone knowing where this would lead if it wasn't put to a stop.

"What? It's true. He's not accepting the fact that Y/N is dead," Wally said, his voice a bit louder.

"Seriously, knock it off," Dick said, his voice a bit more firm.

"No, I'm not going to stop. In fact, I told you we should've deleted these videos a long time ago. He's been obsessing over them," Wally said, his voice rising.

That got Conner's attention again, and everyone could see it by the furious twitch in his brow.

"Wally, knock it off," Dick said, his voice a bit louder.

"No, dude! He's not listening to us. He's not listening to the League. He's not listening to anyone. He's not listening to the facts. He's not even listening to his own heart, He's not accepting the fact that Y/N is gone," Wally yelled, his voice getting louder and louder.

"Wally, drop it!" Kaldur shouted.

"He's not coming back, Conner. He's not coming back. He's not-"

"Shut up," Conner growled.

"He's not coming back. He's dead, Conner! Are you listening to me right now? Y/N is dead!"

"I said shut up!" Conner roared, his fist flying and hitting the speedster square in the jaw, sending him flying across the room until he landed on the floor by the wall with a sickening thud.

"Conner!"

"Wally!"

Artemis, M'Gann, and Zatanna ran over to Wally to check on him while Kal and Dick shoved Conner away from the computer.

"Dude, what the hell," Dick yelled, his voice a mix of anger and shock.

"He deserved it," Conner growled, his fists clenched and his body shaking.

"You didn't have to hit him," Kaldur said, his voice a mixture of concern and frustration.

"Yes, I did. He wouldn't shut up," Conner said, his voice cold and his eyes full of rage.

Neither would admit it, but both males were very unsettled by the dark and dead look that seemed to be cast over their friend as he stared back at them blankly. If they both unconsciously stepped back to ensure they weren't within swinging distance, it wasn't anyone's business but their own.

"Conner, you can't just go around hitting people because they're saying things you don't want to hear," Kaldur said, his voice a combination of authority and worry.

"Yes, I can. Especially when they're saying things that are wrong," Conner said, his voice still calm and his eyes still cold.

"He's not wrong, Conner. We've all accepted the fact that Y/N is gone. And, it's time you do the same," Kaldur said, his voice a bit sterner.

"I'm not accepting anything," Conner said, his voice a bit louder.

"Conner, you have to. You can't keep living like this," Kaldur said, his voice growing softer and his eyes pleading.

"Apparently, Kal, you've got the same listening issue as Dick and everyone else around here. I'd say it in Atlantean for you, but I don't speak fish so I guess you're just going to have to deal with English. I'm not accepting anything. I'm not giving up. I'm not going to stop looking for him. I'm not going to stop believing. I'm not going to stop hoping. And, I'm not going to stop loving him," Conner said, his voice a lot louder and his eyes a lot colder.

A small groan was heard from the other side of the room, as Artemis and M'Gann managed to prop Wally over their shoulders, getting him back on his feet slowly.

"Hopefully, this teaches you to keep your mouth shut in the future," Conner said before walking off, his teammates watching his retreating back in silence.

"Dude, what the hell," Wally groaned, his head throbbing.

"You deserved it," Artemis said, her voice a bit harsh.

"What the hell did I do?"

"You're an idiot," She retorted.

"You're not wrong," Dick agreed, "You shouldn't have pushed him like that."

"I was just trying to get him to listen," Wally defended.

"Yeah, and you did a great job of that," Artemis said sarcastically.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd hit me. I didn't think he'd react like that," Wally said.

"Clearly, you didn't think at all," Artemis said, her voice a bit softer.

"I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," Wally said, his voice a mix of guilt and regret.

"We know, Wally. We're not mad at you. Well, except him," Dick said.

"We all want to see Conner move on and get better, Wally. But, there's a difference between helping him see the truth and berating him," Kaldur explained.

The speedster just nodded, before feeling Artemis and M'Gann nudge him away, "Come on, idiot. Let's get you to the Medbay so we can clean that lip. Man, you finally get knocked between your teeth, and I can't even say it wasn't from me or that it was justified. Way to ruin my day, dipshit."

"Aren't you just the loveliest," Wally replied sarcastically.

Dick, Kaldur, and Zatanna watched them walk off before turning toward each other.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Z. I really don't know," Dick answered.

"This is getting out of hand," Kaldur said, his voice a mix of worry and frustration, running a hand down his face.

"Maybe, we should try talking to him again," Zatanna suggested.

"If he reacts the same way he just reacted with Wally, I'd rather avoid it. I was fine with him taking his anger and frustration out on the bad guys, but him doing it to us is a different story," Dick said.

"I agree. We need to find a way to get through to him, and soon before his violent outburst gets worse," Kaldur stated.

"So, no more giving him space then?" Zatanna asked.

"Maybe not necessarily, we don't want to provoke him into open confrontation like Wally just did, but clearly, leaving him alone is only making the problem get worse because he's not acknowledging or dealing with his grief," Kaldur said.

"Agreed. The last thing we need is him going rogue," Dick said.

"Do you think he'd actually do that?" Zatanna asked, her voice a bit worried.

"I don't want to think that, but you've seen the way he's been looking and walking around lately and the one person who could actually get him to listen without being threatened by violence is more than likely buried somewhere. It's almost like being around a ticking time bomb, or worse, walking around someone who's possessed. Kal, tell me you weren't the least bit unsettled with the way he was just looking at us. Like there was nothing behind his eyes besides anger and death," Dick asked his Atlantean friend.

"I was," Kaldur answered, his voice a bit solemn.

"Me too," Zatanna said, her voice a bit quiet.

"Okay, so we're all in agreement. We need to figure out something, and we need to do it soon. Otherwise, the next person who pisses him off might not be so lucky," Dick said.

"Agreed." The two others said.

"Recording in progress. Project: E&D. Log #77..."

The three teens whipped around to the computer, seeing it play a recording none of them ever heard before. They each looked at each other weirdly while listening to the recording, each feeling a little bit unnerved.

"We still haven't found any concrete findings on the source of the subject's abilities, but we have made other fascinating discoveries. According to the parents of the subject, the abilities he displays now all came at different age points in his previous years. First was the enhanced durability, an ability shared by many notable metas and heroes. This power came about in his early childhood, not enough to raise alarms, but enough to have the parents rightfully suspicious."

A sick, ghostly feeling overcame the three teenagers as they realized what they were all listening to.

"Oh. My. God. This is about Y/N!" Zatanna stated.

"And, it's from the experiments Lex was performing on him. This must be from one of the scientists who were working on the project as well." Dick theorized.

"But, I thought Batman, Superman, and the League collected every piece of evidence and recording they could find from that place. We would know since Conner had us listen and watch every single piece of evidence we had in hopes of finding a clue to where he might be. I've never heard this one before," Kaldur pointed out.

The two other team members each shrugged at the Atlantean before they all went back to listening.

"Then, came the power of flight and energy manipulation in his teenage years, which led us to rule out Kryptonian biology after the inhuman speed he developed in his pre-teen years. Since energy manipulation has never been a known or recorded Kryptonian ability, it brought us back to the main three categories we had for the potential answer to the subject's source. But, this discovery along with the new data that's coming in from the tests we've been doing with the serums on his body, has led us to the conclusion that whatever gives the subject these different abilities is active and growing. If these were powers he developed in his early stages of life, it definitely leaves us to question if he will manifest other ones in the future as he ages and develops more."

"Wait, did that guy just say there's a possibility Y/N could grow to develop other powers in the future?"

"He sure did."

"Okay, but, what does any of that have to do with the explosion the day Y/N disappeared?"

"I don't know. But, I have a feeling we're about to find out," Kaldur said, his voice a bit grim.

"The most exciting part is we may have stumbled upon a new power completely by trial and error. After we discovered the unknown pathogen tampering with our serums, we had to reduce the potency and level of our experiments to eliminate any potential risk to the subject's health. But, we found that during one of the experiment sessions post-reduction, when the patient seemed to be under a lot of stress, especially after his conversation with Mr. Luthor, a slight startle from that dunderhead Martin seemingly caused the subject to teleport himself from one end of the room to the other, in theory away from the thing that startled him, i.e. the danger or stressor."

All of their eyes went wide.

"The subject now seems to have unlocked the power of teleportation!"

"Holy shit! Y/N can teleport?!"

"It would appear so, yes."

"With this new ability, the subject could virtually teleport themselves out of situations that pose any danger or stress to them. Imagine the possibilities. If the subject can learn to control and harness this power, it could be the key to the ultimate weapon against the Justice League and their allies. A secret agent, able to sneak into the most secure facilities and locations undetected and unseen. And, if they can't handle the mission, they can simply teleport themselves out of the situation. This is a breakthrough. Unfortunately, since this is an ability the subject unlocked while in a drug-induced state and was not aware of it post-test, Mr. Luthor has instructed no one to inform him of this development, nor does he want any testing of this ability until further notice. Since his discovery of the relationship between the subject and the still liberated Project: K.R., he's been very cagey about things but urging us to speed up our work, as if he's preparing for something. These brainwashed fools may listen to his every word, but I intend to get every piece of data I can from these experiments. Oh- someone's coming. I must end this log early. Grant out."

"Y/N can teleport," Zatanna said, her voice a bit soft.

Dick had a look of realization come over him, "That's why no one could find him. He wasn't vaporized or abducted. He teleported himself away," He said, his voice a mix of relief and realization.

"But, where did he go? And, why hasn't he come back yet?"

"I don't know, Z. But, the fact that we're even asking that question means—"

"Conner was right. Y/N is alive."

The two dark-haired teens turned to their Atlantean leader, who held a relieved but stern gaze over his face as he stared at the recording sitting open on the computer.

"Call Batman and Superman now."

Conner was walking along the beach with Wolf. He needed to get out of the Cave for a little bit, feeling a little bit guilty for how he reacted with Wally. It wasn't completely his fault though!

Wally shouldn't have been pushing his buttons so much. He was basically asking for it.

Either way, the Kryptonian knew he was going to have to apologize at some point. He knew his behavior was getting out of control, and he was aware of how his friends and teammates were starting to feel uneasy around him.

But, he couldn't help it.

All he could think about was Y/N and how much he loved him. How much he missed him back and how much he wanted him back.

He'd give anything to have him back, and he'd do anything to make that happen.

But, maybe his friends were right. Maybe he was chasing a lost dream and it was time for him to move on. Maybe it was time for him to accept the truth.

Conner looked down at the sand, the canine whining at his side as he could sense his human's sad distress, smelling the sad emotions all over him. He blinked repeatedly, trying to hold back the tears pooling in his eyes, but they just kept coming before they were eventually dripping and falling into the sand on the beach.

"I'm sorry, boy. I'm trying. I'm really trying," Conner said, his voice a bit broken.

Wolf barked softly, nudging his head into his human's leg with another whine.

"I know, buddy. I miss him too," Conner said, his voice a bit softer, running his hand across the canine's fur, though he seemed to be poking his snout up at a scent he caught on the wind, his tail wagging back and forth excitedly.

The silence over the beach was so loud, but not louder than the Kryptonian's soft sniffles as he stared out over the water, pulling the folded-up photo out of his pocket. Despite his overwhelming mournful attitude, he couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips as he stared at the photo of himself, Y/N, and their friends at the beach. The same day he told Y/N he was a clone.

The same day he confessed his feelings for him.

Tears were falling onto the photo.

"I'm sorry," Conner whispered, his voice a bit broken.

"You know, you really need to stop apologizing so much."

Conner's head shot up.

There was no way. It wasn't possible.

Wolf suddenly shot away from his side, barking happily before the sound of him tackling someone to the ground hit the Kryptonian's eardrums.

There was no fucking way. It couldn't be possible.

He turned around slowly, to see the canine licking the face of the person he was currently lying on top of.

"Okay! Wolf, Sweet Jesus, okay! I missed you too, buddy," Y/N or at least someone that had Y/N's body laughed, his voice a bit muffled from his arms trying to cover his face as the canine tried to lick him.

Conner inched a bit closer, scared out of his mind to take too big of a step and risk the sight in front of him disappearing like an illusion. It'd be really ironic and bittersweet if he was to be actually losing his mind at this moment.

"Y/N?" Conner muttered softly under his breath.

When the smaller figure finally managed to get the excited canine off of him, he uncovered his face looking up at the Kryptonian before smiling that same infectious smile that had Conner's heart spiking and his eyes watering even more than they were before, mirroring the same watery eyes staring back at him.

Y/N slowly stood up, looking at his Conner with red eyes, doing his best to hold in his own tears, "Did ya miss me?"

"Is it really you?" The taller boy asked, still 100% not trusting that he wasn't losing his mind and this wasn't a product of his overly emotional state. This is why it was so much easier to keep shit bottled in.

Y/N didn't say anything for a moment, just staring at him leading Conner to think he really was hallucinating or sleep-walking until he opened his arms toward the Kryptonian, "Open arms?"

Realization hit him and before he even knew what he was doing, the Kryptonian felt his feet moving on their own and his arms were wrapped tightly around his boyfriend, holding him close and tight, almost afraid to let him go.

"Don't you ever leave me again," Conner whispered, his voice a bit broken.

"I won't. I promise," Y/N replied, his voice very broken.

But for the first time in a long time, the young hero finally felt comfortable. He finally felt like he could let his guard down after so long, feeling safe in the arms of his lover.

"I love you, Conner."

"I love you too, Y/N."

They sat just like that for a while, holding each other and finally basking in each other's presence again, "So does forever start now?" Y/N asked through a small sob.

Conner smiled through his own tears, comforting his boyfriend like he used to.

"Yeah, it starts now."

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[laniluvsuu]

Her.

Hi y’all!! I barley proofread this so I’m sorry for mistakes. Anyways I have another version of this with the same song but with Connie so lmk if y’all want that…🌚🤭.

Ony was one of the smartest boys in your class. He had a sexy face and straight A’s and you chose to use both at your advantage. And Ony knew you were bad for him, but he couldn’t get enough of you, he didn’t mind the fact you used him for good grades or his face.

It was just your luck that you sat next to the smartest and finest boy in your class. It was also your luck because, he never failed to give you his answers to the questions you had trouble with. You always said something along the lines..

“Onyyy can you help me with number 6?” You asked looking at Ony with big pleading eyes, reaching your hand over to grab his paper like usual, but for a change he grabbed your hand from reaching his paper and saying.

“What’s in it for me this time y/n?” Ony said smirking at you, his silver diamond grills peaking out at you when he spoke, while he was still gripping onto your hand.

“Oh.., we could do whatever you want.” You said staring back at ony, ignoring how you instantly got hot when he said your name.

“You could come back to the spot after this shi’ over ma.” Ony said staring down into your eyes waiting for your response. His inked hand finally letting go of your hand.

“Mmk, all you’ll ever have is one day with me, and if that’s how you wanna spend it then be my guest.” You shrugged before reaching over his arms once again to grab his papers and take all his answers.

“But boy, don’t you go falling in love..” you said as you copied down all of his answers changing little things about every problem.

“You could fuck me in the back of your car..”

is what got you here, sitting Onyankopons lap dripping wet, and making out with him in the front seat of his car. And of course this all happened before y’all made it back to his house.

As y’all made out Ony moved his inked hand up to your neck. As he gripped on your throat, he pulled you back from his face and said “Move to the back for me mama. And I want allat shit off for me before I get back there with you.”

You did what he said without saying a word. You watch as he moved, and parked his car in an empty parking lot, while you waited for him to join you in the back seat. And as soon as he did step out of his car the first thing you saw was his growing bulge poking through his pants, his pelvic area covered in a wet spot, from you.

Opening the backseats car door, and getting in. Ony was happy that you listened to him and took all your clothes off. “You’re such a good girl for me” Ony mumbled while he reached over to grab your throat once again to kiss your lips, harder this time. And now you can only imagine how needy you were at this point. Reaching over to his pelvis, to attempt to pull the waistband of his pants down off his waist.

“Nuh uh. Don’t do that baby. You were being such a good girl.” Ony smirked at you while looking deep into your eyes continually flashing his eyes up and down your face, to your eyes then to your lips while he was still gripping onto your throat.

“Please Ony…I need it..need you.” You pleaded to Ony hoping he would do anything to stop the painfully good aching in between your legs.

“Oh yeah? So tell me how your gonna get it. You wanted me to fuck you in the back of my car right? Tell daddy how you want it baby.” Ony said using your own words against you, while he started to pull his pants and underwear down to his ankles.

As he waiting for your response, he grabbed your waist and pulled you ontop of his pelvis, not ontop his dick but above it, because he wanted you to do the work.

“I wanna ride you Ony.” You whined to him as he placed you onto his pelvis. You reached behind your body to grab his standing dick, propping your other hand on his pelvic abs to push your body up so you can sit on his dick.

“Ouuuh. Fuck!” You dragged out as you sank your body down onto his dick. You moved your hands onto his shoulders to steady yourself as you bounced up and down on his body.

“S—shit mama.” Ony said in a deep voice that made your body shudder. Ony moved his hands to your waist to bounce you faster on his dick. He moved his right hand down to your ass cheek to grip, and spank you everytime you slowed down your movements.

“O—ony..i c-cant! Daddy i cant take it!” You yelped out to him feeling your legs grow tired from your movements. Nonetheless you still tried to continue, greedy to reach your release.

“You want daddy to take over f’you baby?” Ony mumbled smirking down at the way your strength already gave up on you, and how you were so greedy for his dick.

You nodded you’re head at Ony’s question which he choose to ignore while he wrapped his left arm around your waist, then used his right hand to bring you down to his chest. He started thrusting his hips up into yours and each time he did it was faster, deeper.

The tip of his dick was kissing your cervix each time he thrusted up into you. The only thing that could be heard inside of his car was the sound of your wet pussy being slapped ontop of his pelvis, your moans, and his groans he let out.

“O—oh! Oh s—shittt…Daddy! M’gonna cum!” You yelled out feeling your stomach tighten up and get hotter, while your long acrylics clawed at the back of his neck and his chest.

Tears of pleasure falling down your face as you lifted your head up, and opening your eyes to look up at Ony. Only to see his head slightly thrown back as he had the bottom of his shirt in between his teeth, leaving his inked covered chest to show. His eye brows furrowed upwards in pleasure, his eyes closed shut. His diamond grills smiled down at you, and you almost came at the sight of how good he looked above you.

“G’ahead mama, I’m right there with you. Cum on daddy’s dick. Be a good girl.” Ony mumbled out as his head was still thrown back. He sped up his movements chasing after both of your orgasms.

“Mmph onyyyy!” You dragged out as you could taste your release on the tip of your tongue.

“Where you want daddy’s cum baby?” In his deep voice, you didn’t hesitate to say “inside d—daddy..please!” You said eager to have your tight walls painted by his seed.

“H—holy fuck!” Ony let out feeling his climax reach him as soon as he felt yours hit, feeling your pussy get wetter, and spasm all over his dick, he came, shooting his seed up inside of you like you had asked for.

Once Onyankopon came down from his high, he thought about your words from earlier, how he’ll only have one day with you, and how he’ll never get to stay with you, never get to stay in your pussy as much as he wanted too.

[eternal-auditor]

Barbatos Dating Headcanons

Did I mention I love Barb? Anyway, have another set of hcs Barbatos x GN!Reader, no specific genitalia mentioned, SFW & NSFW Some of them I included from the other users I found to like

SFW:

It's a miracle, even bigger than the Christmas one, that you've managed to start dating anyone from Hades besides Leviathan. You must be skilled in persuasion... Persuading him with another dirty secret from Solomon that is.

Levi will be very grumpy for a while, but he won't interfere. You dating Barbatos is still a good way to keep a close eye on you, but he can be petty about it sometimes.

If Leviathan hears how Barbatos gushes over his relationship with you, he will be hanged immediately. Unfortunately, it will only encourage him to continue, since he likes to be punished by his king. Barbatos ends up being hanged the biggest amount of times in the first month of dating you, which he brags about with pride.

Your mornings start with the most romantic and cheesy greetings from Barbatos. He always sends them before the sun is not even up yet, and he continues to lash you with compliments and sweet confessions throughout the day. You tell him that he doesn't need to overdo himself, but he responds that it just feels natural to him. You're the most beautiful and stunning person he's ever been with.

He gifted you your own noose the next Halloween, and you've put them on each other per tradition, while the rest of the devils on the square were seething with jealousy.

You tend to spend most of the holidays with him. One time while both of you were strolling on a festive street you've happened to run into his siblings. They were very excited to finally meet you, so they ended up bombarding you with tons of questions. Barbatos manged to calm them down, and you agreed to spend the rest of the day all together to get to know each other better.

He hopes you can move to Hades and live with him one day. He misses his other Sun when you're not around.

He occasionally gifts you lush rose bouquets that he grows out himself and even sends them to Gehenna. Barbatos will be absolutely delighted if you decide to gift him one in return.

He gets quiet and apathetic on overcast days, but your presence always manages to cheer him up. He even attends to his duties for a few hours, so Foras feels especially grateful whenever you happen to stay in Hades on bad weather season.

Your dates consist of sunbathing, strolling through parks or going to theaters, museums, concerts etc. He likes to appreciate beautiful things and art is one of them, though Hades art can be quite unique...

Whenever he goes sunbathing he always asks you to join him and depending on the mood it can become steamy heh.

Sometimes you get bored just lying around, so you play with his hair and decorate it with roses. He laughs at your whims and puts some of the flowers in your hair too.

NSFW:

In the most traditional and chivalrous spirit, he likes to take you on a date before a good fucking session.

Having sex with you and feeling up the sun at the same time is the biggest turn on for him. It arouses him so much he can go non-stop, but he knows your limits, so you take breaks, enjoying the warmth and giving each other lazy kisses.

But if you don't feel like doing it in the open, he will suggest moving into his coffin. When you lay there, he likes to rock inside you slowly, as he pulls you closer and whispers in your ear how good it feels.

His mouth and hands are always at work, tracing your skin and attacking your weak spots, heating you up in seconds.

Loves giving you oral and worship your body in the process, but cannot hold back for long whenever you decide to return the favor.

When he's in a romantic mood, he prefers positions where he can hold you close to relish in your shared intimacy and warmth.

But more than that, he loves to feel your clenching hole when he pushes his dick deeper inside it with each thrust. Seeing your face twist in brain melting pleasure while he unravels you on his thick cock is his favorite.

Being a devil from Hades means he can be prone to jealousy. In times like this, he ends up marking your whole body and filling you up to the brim with his cum.

He has a nice strong arms and a very juice thighs for you to ride on or to be suffocated in between.

He loves when you mark him, your touches feel like hot kisses from the sun. Give him a good stinging slaps and a strong squeeze on the neck.

Aside from his sun kink, he's also into bondage and sensory deprivation.

His abilities are not just deadly weapons. You won't need to use ropes with Barbatos, you have his vines for that, and they're strong enough to lift and bend you in whatever position you'd wish to as if you weight nothing. You can have a lot of fun with those things and the toys he had prepared.

Like many devils, Barbatos is very experienced. He would love to help you to fulfill your own fantasies and show how to maximize pleasure for the both of you.

[whiskeyghoul]

Pt.6 || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!reader]

First part, Previous part, Next part

A/N: Ah okay this took a bit longer than expected. I really wanted to do this justice but that took a while oops. I really hope you enjoy it. A bit more good vibes towards the end. There are more plans for part 7 with backstory so hopefully that will be up and going soon. Maybe some spice? If people want? Let me know. Remember to please reblog when you can!

WC: 3,4K

Tags: alt reader, little hurt comfort, past relationships, making up, hurt comfort-ish, fluff. 

Warnings: Mentions of past relationship, toxic relationships, hinting at nsfw

Your POV

When Spencer left the office it took a few moments for Penelope to return. Being alone in the room, surrounded by computers and Garcia trinkets, it was still incredibly lonely. You felt horrible, tears were threatening to fall from your eyes. Like they had been the entire day. You felt like a dick. Spencer had been nothing but nice, kind, looking at you with those big brown eyes like you were the only person in the world. It was just unfair that when you finally had something, someone, to look forward to talking to, that it was all taken away. You were at fault too of course. It wasn’t just the situation, you actively pushed him away but only to keep him from getting hurt.

The door opened, Penelope walked in looking concerned. “Boy genius looked upset. What happened? What did you tell him?” the two questions you really didn’t want to answer. “I just told him I needed time to work on something. Fix something.” You answered after swallowing thickly. “You didn’t tell him about Tommy?” You told Penelope before about how bad your ex was, how he had snuck into the building and left you a ‘gift’. It was always about Tommy. He made sure of that. Popping back into your life when things went well. Squashing any form of happiness down, stamping it into the ground. 

The thing with Tommy was that when you had been together he had been almost dismissive when it came to showing it. Your relationship felt shallow, like you didn’t know the person you had been with. Only discussing the basics, never truly getting to know each other on a deeper level, when you did it was a rare occasion and you both used it against each other. You had a different kind of passion though. There was undeniable tension in the way you teased and called eachother names. It was a love hate relationship if you had ever seen one. Hate seemed to be your way of love with him. It lasted 6 months.

You don’t even remember how it came to be, because it happened on a drunken night out with a mutual friend. A former friend. Who made a comment about the way you berated eachother like an old married couple. You made a comment about how you’d never do him. He made a comment about how you would be lucky to have him. Jabs were made, words were said. Then suddenly, the next morning, you woke up in his apartment with your clothes discarded on the ground and black lipstick marks on his neck. Somehow it happened, and you don’t remember hating it, nor the time after. That was the start of it.

You do remember hating the end of it. Every week ended with a fight, and not in the way you had been used to. This didn’t have the usual quips and remarks, no it was truly using sore spots to anger each other. Every week he would try to make up, apologize, buy flowers or make dinner. But every week would end the same as the one before it. You were stressed, sick and tired of the continuous flip flopping of his personality. His words were venom, and every week it settled deeper into your body, festering, feeding this growing idea of leaving him. When you finally found the courage, the right time, his reaction shocked you.

He hit you.

He apologized profusely after that. Trying to reconcile once again but that was the straw that broke the camel's back. You packed up the few items you had at his apartment and left. Still he didn’t seem to be able to let it go. Every so often he would pop into your life. Like he had done the weekend before, leaving a gift on your doorstep. Something to remind you he was still there, watching you, following every step you took and swooping in as soon as you got close to someone. Making you relive the entire thing. This time it was a small paper gift bag with a tag that stated he missed you, inside was a jewelry box you didn’t even open. It sat there on your doorstep for 3 days until you caved and brought it inside. Still though, it sat on your dining room table, unopened. 

“Yeah… He uh… I don’t want Spencer to be caught in the middle of it. I don’t know how far Tommy is willing to go.” You shook your head slightly, trying to shake away the memories. Penelope stared at you, mouth slightly agape “And you didn’t think that the FBI agent could help you with your problem?” she managed to bring out, there was clear confusion in her face. “Yes, but I need to do this myself. I don’t want to burden Spencer with this. It’s my thing, and I won’t let him ruin something good again.” You took a deep breath, knowing you might have ruined your chances with Spencer just now. It made your heart ache, terribly so. “I can hack his phone, tell him to back off, put a virus on it so it opens every porn site known to mankind as soon as it gets close to you?” Penelope’s tone being serious made you crack a smile. “Let’s keep that as our plan B.” There was a hint of humor returned in your voice.

You thought about it, you really liked Spencer. Tommy was standing in the way of things for you and you needed to get him out of your life once and for all. You looked to Penelope, “I just hope I didn’t lose my chance with Spencer.” You admitted before you were enveloped in a tight hug. “I’ll keep an eye on him, let you know if our boy genius comes back.” She said as you returned the hug. She was a good friend. The best. Always looking out for you and you so hoped she felt the same about you. You thanked her before you took your leave. Promising to keep her updated on what you were doing. 

You: ‘Is Spencer back?’

You texted Penelope the question as you sat in the lab waiting for the centrifuge to finish. It was Wednesday, you had been able to talk to Tommy that Sunday. Talk was a big word. He took your contact as an admission that you still liked him. That you wanted him back. When you told him to leave you alone he got angry. Which threw you right back to the fights that you had with him before. It was like nothing changed for him. Things had changed for you though. You finally realized he didn’t care about you, he didn’t want you back, he wanted the idea of you. 

Spencer hadn’t shown up to work again since Thursday.

Penny: ‘No, I wanted to go check on him. I can’t get a hold of him.’

Penelope replied to your text. The ding of your phone pulling your attention back to it. The fact that Penelope, the sweetest, most caring, technologically adept person you knew couldn’t get a hold of him meant he really didn’t want to talk to anyone right now. ‘I’ll try and text him again.’ You sent the message to Penelope before quickly changing to Spencer’s contact. Your previous messages sat unanswered.

You: ‘Spencer, can we talk?’ Sun, 16:30

You: ‘Are you coming into work today?’ Mon, 8:38

You: ‘Spencer? Could you please answer me? I want to talk about what happened.’ Mon, 12:45

You: ‘I fixed it.’ Mon, 12:46

You: ‘Please text me when you see this.’ Tue, 15:24

It was ironic. These messages were so similar to what Tommy had sent you when you first broke up. You really didn’t want to become like him. Just when you had finally gotten rid of him. You sighed, typing out a new message. Hitting send you quietly waited for a reply. Turning the chair you had been sitting in. Looking at the phone screen every few seconds, anxious for an answer. Watching the minutes pass by felt like it was taking forever. Until the phone buzzed alive, the screen lit up with a message.

You: ‘Spencer, everyone is worried. Just let me know you’re alive.’ Wed, 12:36

Spence: ‘I’m okay’ Wed, 12:40

You breathed a sigh of relief, the nerves settling down. Finally, he was speaking to you again. Or well, texting you again. Which was better than nothing in all honesty. Missing spencer for 6 days has been torture. No conversations, no lunch together, not even a quick pop by the lab just to get the notes on a case. You didn’t think you could miss someone so much. Especially when you had only known each other for a few weeks.

You: ‘I’m coming over after work. I need to talk to you.’

Spencer: ‘What? You don’t have to. I really don’t need you to check up on me.’

You: ‘It’s not about checking up on you. I want to apologize in person, explain what happened…’

Spencer: ‘You don’t even know where I live.’

You: ‘So text me your address. Or I can ask your colleagues for it.’

Spencer: ‘...’

Spencer: ‘Alright.’

You: ‘I’ll get you something to eat on the way over. Anything you want.’

Spencer sent you his address, and a request for chicken tandoori from a place near his apartment. A smile crossed your lips, he had needed time but he was accepting you coming over. Maybe, you could make up. There was just a little glimmer of hope. You quickly texted Penelope that Spencer was alive, and you were going to check up on him later that day. Explaining you were going to talk about what happened, to hopefully get on his good side again. Maybe have a shot at going on a date again, though that was probably too soon. You realized you had hurt his feelings, terribly so, but it was to make sure you could get rid of Tommy. Without him hurting Spencer in the process. You didn’t know what he would be able to do. An explanation was necessary, for sure.

So you stood in front of Spencer’s apartment door. Bag of Thai take-out in hand. You had texted Spencer before you left the Thai place, letting him know your ETM just to make sure he was prepared for you showing up. Nerves had begun to coarse through your body. The fact he could still be angry with you was weighing deeply in your mind. Though accepting your coming over was a step in the right direction it didn’t mean he’d necessarily want to listen to what you had to say. You just hoped he would be willing to listen. To have a conversation.

You reached your free hand up, knocking on the apartment door. Waiting a few seconds before hearing movement inside. The door opened and Spencer stood in the entrance. His hair was disheveled, a slightly large cardigan hung from his frame, just a t-shirt underneath. His eyes were tinged red. He looked… not so great. Tired. You had really hurt him. A sinking feeling in your stomach, it was terrible to see him like this. You never wanted this. “Hey.” The word came out strained. “Hi.” Spencer said in return, his eyes looked you over. You realized you weren’t looking so hot yourself either. Comfy clothes had been your go to for the past 2 days, a sadness settling in your bones at not seeing Spencer, not hearing from him. A way too large zip up from some band you didn’t listen to anymore, with holes at the cuffs from nervously picking at them in times of distress. You had foregone makeup too, not feeling the motivation for it the past days. 

“I brought the thai you wanted. We should eat before it gets cold.” You said, holding up the take away bag with a sad smile. Spencer took a step to the side, “Right, thanks.” He said as you walked past him into the apartment. It was somehow exactly what you expected from Spencer but still surprising. There were books everywhere you looked. The massive shelves that lined a wall were filled to the brim. There was a leather couch in his living room, where a blanket laid haphazardly over the arm. A small table sat next to the window, a chessboard atop with a game configuration.

It smelled like him. 

“I really like your apartment, it suits you.” You complimented as you had your look around. Taking everything in as Spencer walked to a small dining room area. “Thanks.” Spencer’s answers were short. Annoyingly so. You walked over to the table, placing the take out on the table. Watching as Spencer got plates and cutlery out and handed you your set. You got all the food out, separating yours and Spencers out and placing them on different sides of the table. You wanted to face him when you apologized. So when you both sat down you took a deep breath. “You w-” “I am s-” Both Spencer and you spoke at the same time. It was so similar to when you had both spoken that Thursday before. You let out a soft laugh, it was borderline ironic that when you wanted to apologize it happened in a similar fashion as when you upset him.

Spencer looked at you with a hint of confusion, maybe a bit of disdain at your laugh, “You wanted to talk?” he said as he piled his plate with the chicken tandoori that smelled so flavourful. “Yes. I wanted to explain, apologize…” you said, slowly putting some rice and chicken masala on your own plate. “I am sorry about what I said. I was afraid you would be caught in the middle of things that would put me in a bad light. Or maybe make you realize I am not worth the trouble.” You started, “I have an ex, Tommy, who ehm… how do I even explain this.” You felt nervous, this was the first time you had actually said something about Tommy to a guy you might like. “Tommy wasn’t the greatest. And when I finally broke up with him he couldn’t let it go.” You watched Spencer’s expression change, you couldn’t place it though, it wasn’t pity. Pity is what you usually get when you tell people about your emotionally abusive ex. No, this was different.

“He stalks you?” He said before you could continue. You were a little surprised he found that out with the words you used. Before remembering that’s what he does, behavioral analyst. Finding answers through just the smallest of details. “I hope he won’t anymore.” You answered, “I talked to him. He found out about you. After we went to the museum together he had left me something.” You continued, “And it made me realize that I didn’t know how far he was willing to go to keep me from meeting someone. I did not want you to realize I am not worth the trouble of dealing with a stalker. Or, for you to get hurt because of something he did.” you fell silent, Spencer was so too. His eyes on you felt heavy. Analyzing every little move, facial expression. “Why didn’t you tell me? I don’t… I don’t think that. I wouldn’t think you aren’t worth the trouble.” He sounded just a little upset. Like the mere thought of you not being worth the trouble was appalling to him. “But you still could have gotten hurt.” You protested. “If I was scared of getting hurt I wouldn’t have joined the FBI.” He answered so seriously. It made a wave of relief wash over you. 

Spencer took a bite of his food, which reminded you that yes, you were here to eat too. “So… You’re not mad at me?” You asked before taking a small bite of your own food. It was nice, Spencer was right to order from here. “I’m not… I was sad, a little confused at first. I knew you were hurt too… which is why I wasn’t mad. And I am not mad now.” He explained after swallowing his bite. “I am hurt that you didn’t tell me. That you think I would leave at the first signs of trouble.”

You nodded your head, he had a right to be hurt. “I’m sorry, I was just, people tend to leave. Or I don’t let them get close enough to really know what was going on. It caught me off guard that you were the first. How quickly it happened too.” your voice still sounded a little strained. Speaking words and thoughts that had subconsciously taken up your mind. Ones that you didn’t give the time of day before to fully develop, to acknowledge. Penelope sent him on purpose, she must have known, or had an inkling that the good doctor would break down your walls. His disarming nature, sweet demeanor, his smile. Everything about him made you feel safe. It was terrifying.

“So what did you say to get him to back off?” Spencer asked, seemingly a little interested, though his voice was a little soft. You cleared your mouth, “Well… I don’t know if it worked just yet.” you started. “But, I eventually made him realize how stupid it is to threaten a person who has access to lab equipment and various kinds of poison. Oh and also that if he so much as glances at me again Penelope will put a virus on all his electronics that will cause them to irrevocably be loaded with porn and viruses.” You felt just a little devious, a small smirk playing on your lips. You looked up at Spencer who had his mouth slightly agape, his eyes wide as he processed your words. He looked surprised until a soft chuckle escaped his lips, “Remind me to stay on your good side.” He laughed.

You missed that sound more than you would like to admit. More than you expected.

“I don’t think you could ever get on my bad side.” You said it, eyes softening as you looked at Spencer. His eyes mirrored yours. There was a kindness in them with a hint of sadness still. “I wouldn’t even want to try.” he said those words almost like a whisper. They were imbued with tenderness. It made a shiver run up your spine, a warmth settled in your stomach. “Can we go back to normal?” You asked, putting down your utensils on the table, “Please?” You didn’t want to plead but you didn’t want to lose Spencer. The only thing on your mind was wanting to be close to him again. You waited, watching as Spencer thought for a moment. The silence was nerve wracking. The only thing you could feel in that moment was your heartbeat. The seconds felt like minutes instead. You waited in bated breath hoping he’d be willing to make up. Hands fidgeting with the holes in your sleeves. Teeth assaulting the inside of your lip.

“Yeah… I’d like that.” You let out the breath you had been holding, relief washing over you at his words. Shoulders sagging down as finally relaxation took over fully. “Thank you, I couldn’t stand not hearing from you every day.” you spoke and you watched Spencer visibly relax too at your words. “It was hard to ignore you.” He confessed. “You better never do it again then.” Yeah, this started to feel normal again. “And you better finish your food. You gotta get up early to meet me before starting tomorrow.” You teased, taking a bite of your own food. “Or you c-'' Spencer stopped himself, a small blush tinging his cheeks. It was a little surprising, you didn’t understand what he wanted to say, but he looked extremely adorable blushing. “If you want, we could watch a movie after?” He said, it wasn’t what he wanted to say at first, but it was something that he wanted to spend time with you again. “I’d love to.” You nodded your head yes.

So after dinner, you sat on his couch together. Both dressed in your shabbiest clothes. Your head leaned against his shoulder, a blanket wrapped around the both of you. The smell of Spencer completely enveloping you. Completely at ease. Though still wondering what he really had wanted to say.

Tag list: @luvkatryna @emma-e-a @littlemadamred @cultish-corner @styleiconsize0 @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @depressedbutartsy @mikariell95 @jasf444 @queermaxwooo @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @sammy-4103 @thedevioussmirk @pleasantwitchgarden @khxna @mega-kittyglitter-1 @superlegend216 @seninjakitey

[euno11a]

Tattooed Hearts II

Genre: No one to someone Tattoo artist! Jungkook X Reader

Summary: What happened to us? Why did we end up like this? It was only a one time thing. Now it’s ruined us both.

Warnings: fluff, angst, smut, mentions of hookups, insults, arguing, blood, mentions of period, insecurities

Pt I • Pt III • Pt IV • Pt V• Pt VI • Pt VII • Pt VIII

***

What a jackass! Months of not seeing you, and all he had to say was ‘glad you’re back?!’ Seriously? Watching him walk away so nonchalant made your blood boil, he was a player. What did you expect? He wasn’t gonna drop to his knees and start sobbing! It was dumb if you to even have hopes of him doing that. You glared at the closed office door, hoping he would trip over a stone and scrape his knees. Yes, it was childish, but scraping your knees hurts! You opened your juice, sipping it while cursing Jungkook out in your mind.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard the buzzing of the tattoo gun again, “Is the juice good?” V asked with a small smile.

You nodded happily, drinking even more. The question stood in your mind, how did they know it was your favourite drink? You hadn’t told any of them apart from Jungkook…oh my god. OH MY GOD! Was he still thinking about you?! No, there’s no way, all he thinks about is getting his dick wet, he was not thinking about you. It was probably just a mix up with a flavour. V continued with the tattoo, mentioning that you’d have to come back for a second round to do the colouring and final touches. You agreed, wanting to finally have the tattoo finished. Time went by and a woman walked into the parlour, she was wearing a black latex looking skirt with a matching top, fishnets and some funky looking heels. She was his next client? Good god. Listen, you weren’t one for being insecure. You loved your body! It was amazing! But looking at the woman that just walked in, you couldn’t help but compare yourself just a little bit. She had the ‘perfect body,’ almost no body hair, an hour glass shape, perfect face (probably because of Botox), she was the ideal woman. So watching Jungkook step out of his office and lean on the doorway, smirking at her, made me know that it wasn’t just a touch up that was about to happen. I groaned and looked at V, “Am I almost done…?” “Yep! Just gonna wipe it down with an alcohol wipe and tape you up, then you’re free to go.” He smiled politely at you, which you returned. You luckily finished just before the moans echoed through the parlour, the woman from before, moaning and screaming for Jungkook. You made a small face of disgust, walking to the front desk to pay. RM gave you a sympathetic look, setting up the machine so you could pay. The worst part, was that you could hear his grunts. The grunts he used to make when he fucked you, when he touched you, when he ate you out, even when you bent over to pick something up. Now you’re realizing that you weren’t that special to him. You were a quick fuck and drop. After paying, you walked out of the parlour, a sense of rage present in your gut. Who the hell did he think he was? Honestly, he will never find someone to love forever. He'll always be a player. *** “Is that even sanitary?” Lindsay asked as you guys walked to the bar. You’d came home and told her about your adventures at the tattoo parlour. You weren’t sure if she was treating you to drinks because she felt bad for you, or if it was because she needed to wipe away the vivid picture you painted for her of Jungkoon fucking a woman in his office. You shrugged, stopping in front of the bar, pulling the door open. “I don’t think he’d care even if it wasn’t. Such an asshole…” You mumbled, getting seats at the bar top. You ordered your drinks, a gin and tonic and a dirty Shirley, waiting for the bartender to make them, Lindsay nudged you.

“Look at Mr Hottie over there! God, I’d let him bend me over the bar and fuck me.” She said proudly, biting her bottom lip.

You almost choked on your spit, “I’m sorry, wHaT? Lindsay, you can’t just go around saying that!”

She leaned back and smiled at you, “Come on! I haven’t been fucked in a good while, my vibrators not cutting it anymore! I need a real dick.” Turning her head, she smiled at the guy, winking.

“I thought you were here to drink with me, not get fucked by some random guy.” The drinks came and you instantly drank some, you had a feeling this was gonna be a long night. Grabbing her drink, Lindsay smiled at you once again, walking in the direction of the guy. You groaned and leaned your head on your hand, mixing your drink. Maybe it was from the day, but the gin didn’t feel strong enough. After about 30 minutes, you turned to look at your friend, but not to your surprise, she was gone and so was the guy. ���Hope you have a nice fuck.” You mumble to yourself. “Thank you, I will.” The voice caught you off guard, making you jump and turn your head. Jesus Howard Christ. Jungkook smirked down at you, leaning on the bar top. “It was nice seeing you again today. Still looking good.” You didn’t reply, don’t speak to the devil, he’ll hurt you. You sipped your drink in silence, trying not to pay attention to the muscular man beside you. “Come on, you could at least say hi.” “You can at least tell me when you decide to cheat.” You shot back, angrily. Damn it, where’s Lindsay when you need her? “Woah, woah, woah, I never cheated.” Jungkook replied, grabbing his scotch on the rocks. “We were never together, so technically I didn’t actually cheat on you.” Was he serious right now? “Oh, sorry, my bad. I was a fuck toy.” Your jaw clenched, hand gripping the glass of gin and tonic tightly. You could see him smirk from the corner of your eye, “You were a good fuck toy. Always let me use your pretty pussy…fuck you so good. Bet you haven’t had good dick since.” “I’ve had plenty of dick, many that've topped yours.” You snarked back, god, where was your buffer? What happened to ignoring him? And what was with all the lies? “Sure you have. Speaking of, where’s that friend of yours? Did she dump you for dick?” He was trying to get a ride out of you….it was working. “No, she escaped before you came. God blessed her today, but I unfortunately haven’t had his graces placed upon me yet.” You could hear him chuckle lowly, his laugh was deep and husky…fuck, it was hot. “Come on, Y/N, we both know you don’t worship god. You like to worship me when you’re on your hands and knees, waiting to be fucked like a good girl.” He whispered in your ear, using that soft but husky voice you liked. Why’d he have to say your name? Why couldn’t he have kept his stupid mouth shut? “That’s in the past. I’m never going to stoop to a level so low ever again.” Grabbing your bag, you placed a $20 bill on the bar top, paying for you and your friend’s drink. You pushed by Jungkook and made your way to the exit. The air outside was refreshing, something you craved after being stuck in there with Jungkook and his sweet smelling cologne. When you were walking away, your name was called, but you knew it was him. You weren’t gonna answer this time. Not now, not ever again.

Taglist: @talyaaas-blog

[dairy-farmer]

Saw one of your recent-ish Twitter threads, the one about Tim going to those high society rich people orgy parties and meeting the best lay of his life there, only to learn it's Bruce later on

And my immediate thought was that Tim gets knocked up from their first encounter. It takes months before either of them learn that they've been sleeping together, since Tim in his day to day life has been hiding his pregnancy, meanwhile when he would go to these orgies he was flaunting his pregnant body

Once they figure it out tho, after a few awkward days of neither of them knowing what to do, Tim finally bites the bullet and confronts Bruce. This ofc ends in them fucking, this time knowing full well who they're fucking

Honestly, it's no surprise when Tim ends up pregnant again not long after their first baby is born, bc now that both of them are kind of over the taboo nature of their relationship, they fuck near constantly

But they can't be open about their relationship unless it's during those anonymous parties, so they continue to go often so they can get away with being a "couple" without repercussions

They get Tim on birth control. Eventually. After a few more kids, ofc

the thing i LOVE about the rich ppl orgy mistaken/unknown identity thing is just how it ends a little tragically and bitterly, like it's not a BAD ending for them but you can tell the two of them are going to be weird around each other, that everytime they're alone in a room together it's all they'll be thinking about and wondering if the other is also thinking about the fact that they've been intimately involved with each other. its definitely the beginning of the two of them growing more and more distant from each other and then eventually growing completely apart. before they know it neither of them have spoken or seen each other in months and then years. so its a very slow burn sad end for them in that au.

but THIS!!!! tim getting pregnant from the first meeting means that things have changed for them completely. at first tim getting pregnant by the hot guy he spent hours fucking at an orgy was just a small mistake and with the issues he was having with the other bats there was no reason to tell them anything and so tim had semi resolved to have his baby on his own. it wasn't like he knew who orgy guy was and he didn't know who tim was so what were the odds they'd even suspect being the father at all? most people who went to the orgy went as couples, tim figured he was in the minority of people attending single.

the reveal i imagine happens the same, tim moves back to the manor and bruce goes into his room one day and finds the mask on tim's desk, immediatly recognizes it, and connects the dots when tim arrives.

only this time instead of asking tim questions clinging to a small bit of hope that his conclusion is wrong and he HASN'T been fucking his adopted child for months- his first thought after the realization is of a 'oh my god tim is pregnant' sort of feeling.

so their reaction and the fallout isn't that much better than the original...

but this time tim knows who the father of his child is, knows for a fact that its bruce and now bruce knows he's who he was fucking and that tim is pregnant but what he might NOT know is that tim is pregnant with HIS baby.

so the fallout results in awkward avoidance, bruce refusing to look at him for days while tim tries to figure out what the fuck he's going to do and after a few days grows frustrated and just marches into bruce's office and lays out what's happening.

they fucked, alright that's unexpected neither of them knew it was the other underneath the mask so they can't really be blamed for their actions with that.

tim is pregnant, he's already planned to have and raise the baby. yes he's been hiding it from them but its because things hadn't exactly been stable with all of them, he and dick still can't maintain a conversation for longer than a few minutes and both damian and jason are their own can of worms.

the baby is bruce's. tim knows that for a fact because bruce is the only one he's fucked and tim knows that he bears some responsibility for not having taken precautions but bruce was also to blame because what the fuck was he doing going around and cumming in random stranger's pussies!!!

so bruce and tim develove into one of their more comfortable states- arguing with each other, trying to intellectually get the other under their boot and point fingers at each other until they're moving closer and closer and all of a sudden tim's jeans are unclased and off, his panties are down to his knees and bruce is laying him on his desk and kissing him hard and deep as he works his cock into the hot, tight seam of tim while his hands grops and squeeze and stroke tim's baby bump front.

tim is panting and bruce is breathing harshly against the skin of his neck as he slams in deep and hard, forcing the length of himself into tim's cunt and splitting him open on his cock. his hands are rough and squeeze tim's flesh tighter than usual, probably because now he knows tim can take it now that he knows he's not some random little civilian. bruce has sparred with tim on the mats enough to know how much he can take.

so that means bruce has taken it as blanket permission to apparently fuck tim as desperately and savagely as he likes. which tim is more than happy to assist with. he works his hips back and whines at the thick, wet, slap of flesh against flesh as bruce batters his cock into tim's insides until he's grunting and straining against him.

tim is already lightheaded from the tiny orgasms that have been fucked out of him, his eyes rolling back from pleasure while bruce keeps fucking him through it. tim's brain feels like a sponge getting squeezed of its rational thought as bruce slams in a final time and makes a stuttered sort of 'gnnh hnn' sound as pure heat starts filling and overflowing inside him.

for a moment all either of them can do is just pant and try to catch their breath. tim's on his back, goosebumps across his skin from the cold wood while bruce is hovering over him, button up slightly messed up with his slacks undone and lowered enough to expse his cock.

tim can feel the twitch of bruce's cock inside him, can feel the 'drip drop' of cum bleeding out of him and onto the desk from the bit that has managed to leak out of his stuffed hole. bruce's hand is warm and heavy where its cupping tim's baby bump. his thumb is stroking the skin almost mindlessly and bruce's eyes are dark as they stare into tim's.

this is the first time they've fucked where they could see each other's face. and tim is...entranced. by how soft and pensive bruce looks.

he doesn't remember if he did but at some point tim must've run his hands through bruce's hair because it's all messed up. bruce's pomade slicked hair is loose and some of it is hanging down to frame some of his face. bruce's brow is relaxed and his mouth is parted slightly as he stares down at tim with a sort of darkened look to his eyes. tim can see bruce's eyes darting, likely taking him in as well.

tim feels a weird...twinge in his gut. some small thing that makes him feel uncomfortable in his own skin. it seems bruce must feel the same because he pushes up on and off tim. he pulls out of tim audibly and they both make a slight face at the sensation as they both pull themselves together.

there's a tension in the air. even as tim's pulling up his jeans his cunt gets a jolt of heat and want. even though they've just fucked and he;s sore he can't help the spark of...want that bubbles up in him.

they try to ignore their...lapse in judgement because now they have no 'masked orgy' to stand behind.

he and bruce are sexally compatible. extremely so.

tim doesn't know about bruce but for him, bruce is the first person he's fucked where everything just...feels right. at no point in all the times they fucked did they have to stop and have a brief talk of how to keep going or what to do next, for them everything transitioned smoothly. sex with bruce felt good. it felt amazing.

bruce made sex feel exactly like how tim always thought sex should feel.

but now that he knew it was bruce it...complicated things.

he and bruce are averting their eyes again. when they start talking they both have to clear their throats again before going back to talking about....about the...baby.

bruce's eyes feel heavier on tim as tim lists what he has so far, about his plan for avoiding too much media attention, taking a break from bat work at least until his baby was in elementary school and-

bruce asks questions, thoughtful and pensive questions but not in that way he does where it feels like an interrogation. this is soft and probing and then tim remembers how gently bruce had touched his baby bump and...tim has the picture from his first ultasound when he was 8 weeks. he carries it in his wallet and its a grainy photo, just some white blob but he offers to show it to bruce and bruce...

get this widened look to him and chokes out a soft 'yes'.

his and bruce's...stint in his office is ignored for another few days. the two of them haven't really talked about it, more focused on other things.

but then they're alone in the manor. dick is at work, jason is out of town for a case, alfred has volunteered to chaperone for one of damian's school field trips to a museum in philadelphia (apparently its one of the big end-of-the-year field trips and damian hadn't done a very good job of hiding how he was a little excited for it).

and its just him and bruce at the breakfast table in the morning. they haven't told the rest of the family anything not even about tim's pregnancy.

and things are quiet except for the soft clang of utensils. and its just them and the early morning quiet with the distant coo of mourning doves in the trees of the manor's gardens, the dew fogging the windows slighty and the sun barely peeking over the hills.

and...tim's not sure what sets it off but he's in bruce's lap, straddling him like he used to at the party and sloppily kissing bruce who is kissing him back and he tastes like coffee and french vanilla almond milk creamer.

bruce is pawing at tim's sleep dress and pulling it and reaching for his smoking jacket and pulling it open to push down his pajama pants and-

tim pulls away from bruce's mouth with a wet 'smeck' and lets out a gutted groan as bruce presses in his cock, stroking it along tim's insides.

he and bruce grind against each other, rutting and gasping into each others mouthes, breakfast forgotten.

when they're done they stay tangled together and stumble up the stairs together while kissing and pulling at clothes. they don't make it to bruce's room, tim's is the closest and they collapse on his bed together and keep fucking.

they don't stop until the sun has fully risen over the manor and they're both sweaty and naked. tim's cunt is puffy and bright red from abuse. his tits are sore and bruised from being pinched and sucked on. bruce's back has scratches on every piece of open skin of his back.

they lay beside each other breathing and staring up at the ceiling in some post orgasmic haze.

they don't speak, even when they turn to look at each other they just press slow, lingering kisses to each other that turn more frantic and desperate until tim is pushing his sore body up and climbing on top of bruce to slowly ride him again.

they clean up before the rest of the family is due to come back and bruce tells them that tim's come down with something and has retired early because tim has been worn out.

they don't get the manor to themselves for a while and so they start going out on "drives" together and fucking in some concealed part of the woods around the manor where they've parked. a few times they venture up to the manor's attic and quietly fuck on the beds of the old maid quarters.

after a few months they can't hide tim's pregnancy anymore and announce it the family which might be a mistake because they get even LESS time together.

so they start attending the monthly orgies again just so they can fuck again. by that point both of them have gotten over the whole 'incest ' of it all.

tim gives birth to a sweet, red-cheeked girl with dark raven colored hair.

a few months later he's pregnant again because he and bruce can barely keep their hands off each other now that they've fully leaned into what they are.

the rest of the family doesn't know and neither of them are planning on telling them.

because while they've grown to accept it they're certain the rest of the family won't take to the reveal so easy.

so they hide it, bruce is forced to call his baby his grandchild and conceal the way he expresses affection for tim.

the family has overlooked bruce pressing kisses to the top of tim's head as sentiment of old age and him having his first grandchild.

bruce and tim are only able to be a 'couple' at the orgies where they're masked and no one knows who they are.

but its not like they're not used to keeping secrets and wearing masks.

tim and bruce have two more children before tim goes on birth control so as to not arouse more suspicion. the rest of the family believes the first pregnancy was from a one night stand and the next two were from a sperm donor but they couldnt be too careful.

three kids in just as many years. they're both each others longest lasting relationship and after so much time together their love has only deepened further.

sometimes they both wish it was different, they wish their kids could call bruce 'daddy' instead of 'granpa'.

but things in the family are good, they're all happy.

and...they don't want to ruin it.

so they keep quiet.

its just one of the many sacrifices they had to make to keep the family together.