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candycandy00 · 6 months

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The Doll House - A Nanami x Reader Fanfic Part 1

Despite your crippling fear of men, your family sells you to the Doll House. Luckily, you end up with the handsome, gentlemanly Nanami as your trainer, and he’s about to show you how great a man can be.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Read Geto’s Part Here!

Read Toji’s Part Here!

Read Sukuna’s Part Here!

Read Gojo’s Part Here!

Read Choso’s Part Here!

Note: Please remember that these stories don’t take place at the same time, or even one after the other! Consider each one its own timeline. So if you see Geto and Toji with other dolls, don’t be alarmed lol. I had to do it this way because if I don’t, by the time I get to the last trainer, there won’t be any other trainers left to interact with!

On the outskirts of town, there stands a particular shop called the “Doll House”. Inside its walls you can find a “doll” to match any taste you might have. All your desires will be fulfilled, no matter how depraved. Satisfaction is guaranteed! The dolls are exceptionally high quality, thanks to the skillful trainers who work with them twenty-four hours a day, molding them into perfect toys for your enjoyment.

Each trainer has a specialty that they focus on, and they all take great pride in their work. Their methods differ greatly, their approaches vary, but they all follow one rule: never get attached to a doll. After the training is complete, they hand the dolls over to their new owners, and never see them again. However, just once over the course of their careers, trainers are allowed to pick a doll they’ve personally trained and keep her as their own.

AU! Each trainer will get their own story! This is Nanami’s. If you’d like to be tagged in future parts, let me know! You must be an adult to be tagged! Any feedback whatsoever is adored! I’m keeping the same tag list as Geto’s part. If you’d like to be removed, please let me know!

Note: Consider these parts AU’s within an AU. So you might see Geto with a different doll from the reader in his part, but just consider this an alternate timeline lol.

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Daddy kink. Hair pulling. Oral sex. Fingering. Divider by @benkeibear!

Ever since you can remember, you’ve had a crippling fear of men. Your father died when you were so small, you have no memories of him. You have no brothers, no uncles you’ve ever met, and you don’t even remember playing with any boy cousins as a child. Throughout your education, you only went to all girl schools. Otherwise, you’ve avoided going out in public as much as possible.

As a child, your older sister told you scary stories about men being brutish monsters who only wanted to hurt girls. Looking back, you understand now that she was only teasing you. But those stories combined with the fact that you’ve never even had a full conversation with a man before has left you with quite the phobia.

Even though you’ve watched movies and tv shows and seen men in that context, you’re still afraid of them. The fact that you find lots of fictional men attractive only confuses your emotions even more. You’ve spent years watching animated shows with men way too handsome to ever be real, developing crushes on them because they felt safe.

And your favorite, the one you’ve always been in love with despite him being made of ink and paper, is Prince Sebastian. In the cartoon, he’s a tall, muscular, blonde prince who is always a perfect gentleman to the women around him, always there to protect them from danger. Despite being an adult now, you still have a poster hanging on your bedroom wall featuring him.

Now, you find yourself standing in the welcome room of the Doll House, waiting to meet your trainer. How did it come to this? Just yesterday you were cooped up in your room, playing video games. Then this morning, your aunt who raised you and your sister stormed into your room and announced that she was selling you to the Doll House. You thought she was joking at first. What she was saying was unthinkable! She was rich! She didn’t need the money! Sure, she’s been complaining a lot lately about you staying in your room all day, but you didn’t think she was this angry!

You screamed, you cried, you made quite the scene. But then she told you that if you refused to sign the contract, she was kicking you out of her house and completely cutting you off. So you could live in a nice house with a rich man, or you could live under a bridge. To you, both options were terrifying. But one was slightly worse.

If you live under a bridge, how would you watch your favorite shows or play your games? And who knows how many unsavory men would approach you? Dealing with one man would be much better. Or so you’ve been telling yourself since you got here. But… now that you’re here, and there’s a strange man on his way to get you and do unspeakable things to you… you can’t do it!

You make a run for it, even though you’ve already signed the contract and met the owner, even though your aunt dropped you off and told you not to come back, you run out of the welcome room and into the front lobby, toward the exit. But just before you reach the door, you hear footsteps and voices behind you. One of them sounds like the owner, calling out your name. You’re so startled that you trip and crash to the floor, pulling off a perfectly humiliating face plant.

For a moment, you just lie there, feeling stunned and defeated, the adrenaline that fueled your brief escape attempt all gone. Tears sting your eyes as you begin to cry, hiccuping pathetically as your shoulders shake.

“Are you alright, miss?”

At the sound of a male voice, your body freezes up in terror. You turn your head to the side so you can look up. A man is squatting down beside you, holding out his hand.

“Let me help you up,” he says in a soft voice.

You blink away your tears as you stare at his face, and you realize something that momentarily shocks the fear right out of you. He looks exactly like Prince Sebastian! That blonde hair, those kind eyes, that muscular shape! It’s like the character just walked out of the tv! You never thought a real flesh and blood man could ever be as beautiful as Prince Sebastian, yet here he was!

Still stunned, you take his offered hand and allow him to gently pull you up. It’s the first time you remember actually touching a man.

He hands you a white handkerchief, spotlessly clean, and you use it to wipe your eyes. “Thanks,” you mumble, reaching the handkerchief back to him.

“My name is Nanami Kento. I’m your trainer,” he says, and you can’t help staring at him. He’s your trainer? Prince Sebastian? Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. But no, you can’t let your guard down! He might be ridiculously handsome, but he’s still a man!

You introduce yourself in a small, quivering voice. He nods and then calls over the lady working behind the front counter. “Can you take her to my room, please? And make sure she has whatever she needs.”

The lady smiles and nods, then heads back toward the welcome room. “Follow me. We’ll grab your suitcase on the way!”

Numbly, you follow after her.

************************

Nanami waits until his new doll has left the room, then turns to the owner. “When you said she has a fear of men, I didn’t realize it was this bad,” he says, sighing. “So what’s going on? You normally don’t accept dolls who were clearly forced or coerced into signing the contract. She obviously doesn’t want to be a doll.”

The owner gives a sigh of her own. “Her aunt came and spoke to me yesterday. Apparently she threatened to throw the girl out if she didn’t sign.”

“Coercion,” Nanami says. “Despicable. So why did you accept?”

The owner looks him in the eye. “The aunt said that if I didn’t take the girl, they were going to sell her on the direct market. You know how things work there. It would be like tossing that girl into a lion’s den blindfolded and with her hands tied behind her back.” The owner pauses and sighs again. “I thought that if she’s trained by someone like you, at least it would be like tossing her in there with a sword and a shield. At least she’d have a fighting chance.”

She has a point. The whole situation leavrs a bad taste in Nanami’s mouth though. “So why is she afraid of men? Any past trauma I should be aware of?”

“None,” the owner says. “She’s just never been around men in her whole life. No male relatives. Went to all girl schools.”

“Hmm.”

“And Nanami,” the owner adds, her voice dropping a bit lower, “I know you’re not going to like this, but you’ll have to deflower her. Ordinarily I’d keep her a virgin and charge a premium for her, but in this case I think sending her out so unprepared would be exceedingly cruel.”

He looks toward the door the poor doll had disappeared through. “Only if she agrees to it.”

The owner nods. “Of course. Oh, and stay sharp. There’s something off about this whole thing. Her aunt is wealthy, and she even took half what I would usually offer. She seemed really determined to have the girl trained here. There might be something else going on.”

Nanami looks at the owner. “A punishment perhaps?”

“That’s what I’m thinking. But the contract was signed so we’ll see where this goes.”

*********************

Inside your trainer’s room, you find the place impeccably neat and orderly. There’s a large bookshelf filled with difficult-looking tomes, though you do spot a few fantasy novels you’ve read yourself. The bed is so smoothly made that you wonder if he even sleeps in it. The dresser has several bottles of expensive-looking cologne, and a peek in the closet reveals a wardrobe of stylish, fancy clothes in brands even you, who grew up in a wealthy family, haven’t heard of. They’re probably brands that focus on menswear, something you would be clueless about.

The lady from the front desk sits your suitcase on the floor beside the closet and smiles at you. “You hit the jackpot, miss. Nanami is an excellent trainer.”

“He is?” you ask, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

The lady laughs. “Let’s just say that if I had to pick one of the trainers to be mine, I’d pick him in a heartbeat. He’s respectful and kind, and not to mention handsome. The dolls he trains are always sad to leave!”

That made you feel a little better, and you were grateful to her for trying to put you at ease. “Thanks for telling me,” you say. “That’s really good to know.”

She smiles and nods and leaves the room, and it only takes a few moments for your anxiety to return. Your trainer will be coming in here any minute. He’ll probably make you strip! He’ll make you touch him! He’ll touch you! Even if he’s gorgeous, you can’t handle that!

You hurry over to the lone window in his room. It overlooks the back parking lot. You push the window up, opening it, and lean out to look down. The Doll House’s structure is elevated a several feet off the ground, but it’s still only one story. The drop doesn’t look too bad. You sling one leg out over the ledge, leaving you straddling the window. Just then, the door opens, and your trainer walks in.

It only takes him a moment to assess the situation and realize what you’re doing. He rushes toward you, and in a panic you try to jump out, but your other foot catches on the window sill. You fall at a strange angle, reflexively reaching out with one hand to grab the ledge, screaming as you do. Your trainer is quick to action, lunging forward and grabbing your arm.

Nanami pulls you back in through the window, and the two of you fall to the carpeted floor, you on top of him. Did he purposely turn so that his body would shield you from the fall? His strong arms are wrapped around you, holding you firmly but gently. You look up at him, and he seems upset. You let out a squeak of terror and scurry away from him, backing into the wall, still sitting on the floor.

He stands up and dusts himself off. Oh no! Did his fancy clothes get dirty? Is he mad now? He looks at you with a strange expression. Something between exasperation and concern. “Before you hurt yourself trying to escape,” he begins, walking over to a polished shelf and pouring what looks like water into a glass, “why don’t we talk?” He steps over and hands you the glass. You take it, then sip the water.

“Okay,” you say, feeling stupid now as you tuck your knees under yourself.

“Let’s go over a few things,” he says. “First of all, I’m not going to hurt you. If there’s any pain involved in what we do, it will be thoroughly discussed and agreed upon beforehand. I’ll respect your boundaries. I won’t do anything that you don’t consent to.”

That doesn’t sound so bad. You start to relax just a little.

“That being said, the more training you receive while you’re here, the easier things will be for you when you’re purchased,” he says. “I’m not here to make you miserable. I’m here to prepare you for the next ten years. It would be to your benefit to experience as many things as possible here, with me, in an environment where your wishes are respected, before you end up with an owner who might not be so patient.”

You know what he’s saying. “You mean, I should have s-sex with you.”

He nods. “That would be my recommendation, yes. But I won’t force you to do anything. It has to be your decision, and you don’t have to decide right away. For now, why don’t we start with something simple, like letting me help you up?”

He extends his hand to you, for the second time today. Earlier, you were so stunned by his resemblance to Prince Sebastian that you took his hand easily. Now, you hesitate, staring at him for a moment before reaching up and letting his large, warm hand envelope yours. He pulls you to your feet, and you end up standing so close you can see his face more clearly than ever. Ahhh, he really is incredibly handsome!

“Now, is there anything else you’d like to try?”

You blink. “Right now?”

“If you want. Or we can wait until you’ve had more time to adjust.”

You think for a while. His muscular frame looks so inviting. You’re not sure how much you can handle, but you want to try.

“Would a hug be okay?”

He seems a little surprised, but he smiles softly at you. “Sure,” he says, before slowly putting his arms around you and pulling you into his embrace. It actually feels really nice! And he smells so good! For a brief time, you almost want him to make love to you right then and there. Your brain is filled with thoughts of him picking you up and carrying you to his bed, of him taking charge, pulling off your clothes, having his way with you. The thoughts leave you blushing, and you pull away.

“That wasn’t so bad,” you tell him as he gestures for you to sit in a plush chair beside a table.

“When the training begins, there will be some rules,” he says, sitting down in a matching chair on the other side of the table. “You are to refer to me as ‘Daddy’ at all times. If you misbehave, I’ll punish you. But, as I said, that’s something we can discuss and ease you into.”

You feel your heart pounding rapidly. Calling him Daddy? Punishment? It sounds terrifying, but also strangely hot. You’ve watched porn before, so you know a little about daddy kinks. You’ve always been kinda turned on when the man calls the woman “good girl”. You just never imagined, in your wildest dreams or nightmares, that you would end up in a situation like that. When you watched porn, it always felt distant, like something happening in another world. You’ve even masturbated to it, still never once imagining yourself in those positions. Men in “real life” were far too scary.

“I’m going to leave the ball in your court,” he says. “You can tell me when you’re ready to officially start the training. Until then, I’ll keep a respectable distance and let you get accustomed to being here.”

His words are very reassuring. You can feel your anxiety beginning to melt away. Maybe, just maybe, you can get over your fear with a gentleman like him.

That night, Nanami sleeps on a borrowed futon on the floor, giving you the bed. You feel terrible about that, but also relieved. While a small part of you was excited by the prospect of sharing a bed with him, a much bigger part was scared out of your mind to be in such close proximity to a man all night long.

For three days, nothing really happens between you and your trainer. You do feel slightly more comfortable with him, sharing a room and a bathroom will do that, but aside from a couple more hugs and some accidental brushing of elbows, he hasn’t touched you. Deep down, you’re a little disappointed by that.

You accompany him to the dining hall for meals, and you’ve met the other trainers. Most of them stay away from you, even as Nanami introduces them. You figure he’s informed them of your phobia. Just one of them occasionally comes a little closer than you’re comfortable with: the one named Gojo. He’s friendly and not at all threatening, but he’s still a man. So when he stops by the table you’re sitting at with Nanami, you can’t help sliding away from him a little, which results in you sliding closer to your trainer.

On your fourth day at the Doll House, you come to a decision. It’s time to face your fears and begin the training!

You wait until after dinner to tell Nanami. He’s standing at his dresser, loosening his tie in a way that makes you extremely weak. He occasionally makes polite conversation with you, but oftentimes he simply reads for a while before showering and going to sleep on the futon. Tonight, you approach him at the dresser.

“Um, I think I’m ready to start now,” you say, your voice a bit shaky despite your best efforts to stay calm.

He turns and looks at you. “Are you certain?”

You nod. “As certain as I’ll ever be.”

“Alright, then we need to discuss a few things.”

You feel yourself droop. You’ve hyped yourself up for some wild sexy times, but now you have to talk first? You really hope this conversation doesn’t get too awkward.

“First of all, you should choose a safe word. Are you familiar with that term?” he asks.

You are, or rather you’ve heard it used in porn or the smutty stories you read online, but you’re too embarrassed to admit that. “Not really,” you say.

“You choose a word or short phrase that wouldn’t normally be used in the bedroom, and whenever you say it, I’ll stop whatever I’m doing. If you’re genuinely afraid or something hurts or just makes you uncomfortable, say the safe word. We’ll stop immediately and only resume once you’re comfortable again.”

“Okay. How about… snowcone?” you ask.

“Snowcone? That’s fine. Don’t forget it,” he says.

“I won’t.”

“Now, part of my training involves light punishment for bad behavior. Mostly spankings, hair pulling, and things of that nature. Nothing that’s going to seriously hurt. Is that something you can handle?”

You suspected as much, but hearing him say it out loud, in that smooth voice of his, makes you feel dizzy. The thought of being spanked by this man as he calls you a bad girl turns you on way more than you expected. It also scares you. A man! Touching you! But you beat back down the panic that’s threatening to undermine your decision and nod. “I think so. I want to try at least.”

He walks over to his bed and sits down. His legs are spread apart as he undoes the first few buttons of his shirt and then runs a hand through his perfectly styled hair, leaving it a little bit messy with a few strands hanging over one eye. He gives you a look that nearly makes you buckle, and says, “Come over here and show daddy what a good girl you can be.”

Your jaw nearly drops, your breath gets caught in your throat, and your only response is to say, “I’ll be right back!” and flee to the bathroom.

Slamming the door shut behind you, you grab a fluffy towel from a shelf and press it to your face, using it to muffle a scream. Is it a scream of terror? Of excitement? Even you don’t know. You pant for a few moments, trying to pull yourself together.

He’s hot! He’s soooo hot!

But he’s a man!

He looks just like Prince Sebastian!

But he’s a man!

After several more deep breaths, you feel the panic subsiding. You can do this! You step out of the bathroom as if you’d simply powdered your nose and walk back over to Nanami. “Sorry, I just needed a moment,” you say, hoping he didn’t hear your garbled scream.

He gives you a small, amused smile. He definitely heard it! But he only says, “That’s fine. Take your time.”

Ahhh! He’s such a gentleman! You want him to do unspeakable things to you!

“C-can we start over?”

“Of course. I believe I told you to show me what a good girl you can be,” he said.

“Okay,” you say, feeling even more awkward than usual standing there in front of him. “How should I do that?”

He gives you another one of those sultry looks. “You can start by coming closer and getting on your knees.”

Oh shit. He wants you to suck him off! Can you do it? You’ve seen it done in porn countless times. Yes, you can do it! And after you’re done, maybe he’ll pat your head and call you a good girl! Ahhh! Just imagining it has your heart pounding!

You take the few steps needed to be directly in front of him, so close he could hug you if he wanted to. Then you get on your knees, right between his thighs. You glance up at him, unsure of what you should do next. Do you open his pants? Wait for him to do it? This is a daddy kink scenario, so maybe you can just mimic what you’ve seen and read online. You look up at him with wide eyes. “What do you want me to do, Daddy?”

There’s a flicker of surprise on his face, but then he leans back slightly on his hands and says, “I’ll let you decide. What do you think would make Daddy happiest right now?”

You hesitate for just a moment more, then reach up and unbuckle his belt. Your hands are trembling as you unbutton and unzip his pants. This is it! You’re going to see and touch a real man’s cock! You see his boxers when you open his pants, black and classy. With your heart hammering wildly in your chest, you grip the waistband and pull it down, under a dick that seems way bigger than it should be. But what would you know?

With one hand, you lightly wrap your fingers around the hard, hot organ. Feeling unsure, you gently move your hand up and down the length. It’s too dry! Isn’t it supposed to be slippery? Wait… maybe that’s why women in porn often lick or drool on it. You glance up at his face, and there’s no change in his expression. Should you just spit on it? But that doesn’t seem like a very “good girl” thing to do.

“Can I lick it, Daddy?”

“If you want to,” he answers.

Slowly, you lean forward and touch your tongue to the tip. You thought it would taste bad, but really there’s no taste at all. The only thing you detect is the pleasant scent of bodywash. Of course someone like him would keep himself immaculately clean. You move your tongue all around the tip, licking it the way you would a popsicle, then you move your tongue down the shaft, toward the base, trying to get it as wet as possible. You hear him exhale a breath, and your eyes dart up to his face. He looks like he’s enjoying this!

You feel his hand in your hair, and then all at once he’s got most of it gathered in his grip, holding it firmly. It doesn’t hurt, but it does make you feel like he’s completely in control of this situation, and that in itself makes you wet.

“Take it in your mouth,” he says, his grip on your hair getting just a little tighter.

Eager to please him, you do as you’re told, letting him fill your mouth with his cock. It’s a scary feeling at first, as you adjust to breathing only through your nose and occasionally gagging around him when he slips a little too far down your throat. But somehow his hand pulling your hair is comforting. You realize you like being led.

He pushes your head up and down his length, slowly at first, gently. It’s more like he’s guiding you than forcing you. Gradually he ups the pace, going a bit deeper into your throat, which automatically constricts around him. By now your lips are covered in drool and the sticky fluid leaking from his tip, making them glide along the shaft easily.

After several minutes, you hear his voice again. “I’m going to cum,” he says, a very slight strain to his tone. “Don’t spill a drop.”

Before you can do anything to react to his words, his grip on your hair tightens as he pushes your head down, his cock going halfway down your throat. You feel the warm cum shooting out, sliding directly down to your stomach. You swallowed it all without even getting the chance to taste it.

After he pulls out of your mouth, he gives you a few moments to catch your breath, then his hand releases your hair and rubs your head. “Good girl,” he says, and you think you might just faint.

The hand rubbing your head slides down your neck, your shoulder, and then grips your wrist. He pulls you to your feet, and then into his lap. You’re sitting on one of his muscular thighs as he deftly tucks his dick back into his pants with one hand. His other hand is holding you in place, the arm wrapped around you from behind.

“Are you alright?” he asks, a kind look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, surprised by how true that is.

“Then, since you’re being so good for Daddy, why don’t I reward you?” he says, his free hand slipping under your skirt, between your legs.

Your body jerks in surprise, and if he wasn’t holding you firmly in place, you probably would have tumbled out of his lap. His eyes are on your face, watching carefully, as his hand slowly slides down, inside the front of your panties. He’s taking his time, giving you ample opportunity to use the safe word. But you don’t, because despite the fear you’re currently feeling, you don’t want him to stop.

His fingers softly rub your most private place, gently parting the slick flesh, one finger quickly finding your clit. You gasp and clutch his arm, the sensations nearly overwhelming you.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, his voice close to your ear.

You nod your head, murmuring, “Mmhm.”

His fingers traces circles around your sensitive nub, then strokes it, making you release little mewling cries.

“Tell me how it feels,” he says, almost in a whisper. “Use your words.”

“It feels… so good, Daddy! S-so so good! Nothing has ever felt so good!”

You suddenly wrap both arms around his neck and bury your face in his shoulder. The pleasure is too intense! He’s way too good at this! His fingers never stop, even as you quiver in his grip, even when you cry out “Daddy!” as you cum, your whole body shaking.

While you’re still trembling through your orgasm, with his hand still in your panties, he says, “There’s another rule you need to be aware of. In my training, you have to earn pleasure by being a good girl. You’re not allowed to pleasure yourself. Do you understand?”

You nod against his shoulder, feeling too dazed to speak.

The hand that was holding you in place moves up to grip your hair and pull your head back so he can see your face. It’s not a harsh action, but a firm one. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes, Daddy,” you say, and he releases your hair, then smoothes it down gently.

“That’s my good girl.”

**********************

Nanami sits in a chair in his room, thumbing through a book he bought recently and sipping wine. His doll is fast asleep in his bed, exhausted from the intense training session.

He had made sure she was okay, physically and emotionally, before drawing a hot bath for her in his private bathroom and then later helping her into bed. They will be sharing the bed now that the training has begun, and she seemed okay with that before she fell asleep.

Nanami is actually quite surprised by her. He had guessed it would be at least a week before she would be willing to try any sort of training, but here she is on the fourth day, practically swallowing his cock. She’s facing her fears, and that’s admirable.

Though her escape attempts and nervous, terrified energy are exasperating, he also has to admit that he finds her amusing. Earlier, when she ran to the bathroom to scream, it was all he could do to hold back his laughter when she returned and acted as if nothing happened. She was definitely a strange one.

He closes the book and stands up to stretch. His mind is already full of plans for tomorrow, for the various training exercises he can try with her. He doesn’t want to push her too far and make her fear of men worse, but he also wants to make sure she’s fully prepared for her life as a doll. He’ll do all he can to help her, that much is certain.

Tag List:

@suguguro @kaedear @onyxsphynx @poopoobuttsy @butterskyy @collectionofdolls @akaotv @witchbybirth @bloofinntoona @wasurenagusaa @tclbts @tojirin @lucyrocks86 @badbyeyoongi @97britt @aydene @lzaj19 @lyn-lotte @missthatgirl @peachedtv @ladytamayolover @nanam1nx

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #nanami #nanami smut #nanami kento x reader #kento Nanami #Jjk x reader #x reader #jjk smut

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griancraft · 1 month

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Hi guys, this is the donation page I was talking about to help me get out of my abusive situation. More context below the “read more”

It’s entirely optional to donate. I get being broke or wanting to support people who are in more immediate need. I hope I can pay it forward when I’m in a better place.

Most of you probably know my situation already but my parents are abusive and they have respected positions of power where I live. Both work at the university I go to and one of them is close with my boss at work. if I were to speak out about anything I went through I would not be believed because of how “nice” and “respectable” my parents are. I would lose housing and potentially way, way more than that. To mutuals I can show a bit of proof in dms but I am afraid of even posting what I have in case they find it.

I wasn’t given many shifts in May and I am unable to work in June at all. My aim is to leave the country by mid September. The plan is to go on a working holiday visa to go to live with my partner in their country, and I know that sounds extreme but I do not want to be anywhere where they can easily get to me. It’s also a place I know I will have housing.

I do not expect anyone to pay for this but me, and I am working 35 hours a week right now and will probably be working full time in the summer. But I’m also physically and mentally disabled, and my ability to work is sorta limited sometimes, so help would be really, really nice. I’m really sorry for how wish washy I’ve been these last few months it’s getting really bad.

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telvess · 8 months

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RoR: Morning with them (Hermes, Hades, Qin) 🔞

I've finally defeated my writer's block, at least a bit. And I swear I wanted to write something fluffy. Then why - for the Helheim sake - I ended up writing NSFW context again…?

Hermes

You were wakened by a morning sunlight. You opened your eyes and immediately regretted it, covering your head with the pillow to find relief in the partial darkness. The empty space next to you - where your hand expected to find Hermes - alarmed you, so you forced yourself to peek again. The feeling of disappointment woke you up completely. — Why are you leaving so early? — you mumbled, seeing him getting ready in front of the mirror. He was putting on a shirt, so for the last seconds you could see his naked back, which you had kissed many times last night. — Duty calls. — You’re god, you know? — you jumped out of the bed and hugged him from behind — You have the right to take the day off! Even as you interfered, Hermes buttoned his dress shirt. — I’m afraid the gods don’t have that privilege. — Really? — you sighed into his back — Even we, humans, figured that out! You saw his reflection in the mirror smiling at you. After the shirt, the time had come for a tie. — Let me — you offered help. Without a word, Hermes handed you the tie, and as you placed it around his neck, you felt his eyes on you. Since you were standing naked in front of him, your cheeks suddenly felt warm, and the situation didn't get any better as you remembered what happened last night. — Is everything okay? — Yes — you replied, however you didn’t have enough courage to look up. Otherwise, you would have notice Hermes’ mischievous expression, because - as always - he knew exactly what was going on in your mind. As you were tying a tie, Hermes’ hands appeared on your waist. He was already wearing white gloves and was now caressing your skin with the soft fabric. As his touch was leaving burning trace on your bare skin, your sensitive body slowly began to wake up. Hermes moved his hands to your back, where he raised them along your spine to reach your shoulders, neck and finally your jawline. You bit your lower lip and without second thought, you let your hands slide over Hermes’ collar to touch his neck with trembling fingers. — Patient, silly goose — his calm voice brought you back to reality — Tonight you gonna untie that tie as well. Your eyes met his. Hermes seemed amused by your confusion, but beside that you didn’t notice any sign of lying. — Will you leave that early the next morning too? — you asked. Then, to your surprise, Hermes just leaned towards you. Your lips moved instinctively as he approached closer to yours, meeting in a deep, promising kiss. Every time Hermes and you shared an intimacy moment, you slowly lost yourself in his firm hug and skilled tongue, but over time you started to realize that he was the one who was overcome with passion much more than one would expect. As if his perfect, unshakable image had loosened slightly, as if Hermes had finally forgotten himself in the endless years of tasks assigned by Zeus. Then again, something - perhaps his divine control or just aversion to being late - forced him to stop. Hermes was the first to regain absolute control over himself. The only things that gave him away was his rapid breathing and the messy hair you gave him, which was also taken care of very quickly. — Yes — he answered, calmly. It took you a moment to remember what you had asked him, and once you did, a groan of disappointed escaped your lips — However, tomorrow we will wake up much earlier. You smiled at the hidden promise in his words. Hermes checked himself in the mirror one last time before touching your jaw again and forcing you to look into his eyes. — That’s a good knot. Thank you.

Hades

You were lying partially on Hades’ chest and were leaving a trails of small kisses on his exposed skin. Some time ago, a faint light started to seep through the curtains, but you were already awake. Watching Hades sleep was something you never expected to do and you really hoped now that it wasn't a dream. As you left another kiss, you saw how Hades’ head moved slightly. — Oh? — he looked so adorable: sleepy eyes, messy hair and a very lazy smile. You felt so lucky that you had witnessed this side of the king of the Underworld. — Good morning — you smiled back. — Morning, my queen — Hades ran his fingers through his hair, making them even more dishevelled. — Did you sleep well? — you asked, trying really hard to hide your laugh. — Yes, but it doesn't compare to the awakening. Hearing this made you want to kiss him again, but now your fingers also explored his skin, following a track of his sculpted muscles. — Well… I didn’t mean to wake you up… — you kissed him again — It’s just… — and again, — … you teased me. — Oh, really? — Hades grabbed you with his large arms and rolled over with you, so that you were now underneath him. You laughed at the sudden change. For a moment he just looked at you without any particular expression, and then he leaned towards your neck, where he placed a very gentle kiss. His warm breath on your skin, especially on that sensitive spot he found out about last night, made you moan. Hades lifted his head just for a moment to show you his triumphant smile before returning to leave more kisses just below your ear. — You are… aah-h… so… You couldn’t control your body anymore, but was that a reason to be angry? Because you felt so good right now as Hades continued his journey down your chest to your breasts. You ignored weak resistance of your pride and closed your eyes, enjoying the moment. Hades’ lips around your nipples sent shivers your lower parts and as he licked and sucked on them, more moans escaped your lips. You grabbed his hair and arched your back in a fit of passion. — Now, now, who’s the teaser here… — you heard his quiet, deep voice. — Hades… His lips were replaced by his hands now, which slowly massaged your breasts, and Hades' fingers poked your nipples from time to time. — Just look at you — he said slowly — Very naked and very… mine. You couldn’t help but smiled. You opened eyes just to find him watching you. He reached for your head to brushed your hair behind your ear. — I didn’t know you’re such tamer. Hades laughed, his finger was curling your strand of hair. — I didn’t know that either. Looks like you drew it out of me. — Oh, so now it’s my fault? — Well… — he pinched your cheek — What can I say, that’s your charm, dear. You giggled. — Woah, quality save. Hades leaned towards your lips, but stopped an inch before he reached them. — You know, y/n… — he whispered — I'm not a morning person, but you're on your way to changing that. — You seem to have a lot of energy, my king. — And even more ideas on how to use it. Hades wasn’t lying, he had plenty of them.

Qin Shi Huang

You were a light sleeper, so when Qin sat at the edge of the bed, your eyes immediately opened. — Don’t go! — you muttered, and in a sudden burst of desperation, you clutched to Qin’s back and wrapped your arms and legs around his waist like little child. — I’m expected to, my sweet lady — said Qin, but his tone indicated he was open to conviction. — Yesterday you said that you expected your empress to speak loudly about her needs! — you remained — And today I expect you to stay and entertain me! You left a few kisses on his centipede tattoo that ran down his back and smiled in satisfaction as you felt Qin’s body tremble. You pretended to shudder with the cold. — Ugh! I’m so cold! Qin froze for a moment, the sculpted muscles on his back flexed and then before you could blink, he turned around and gently pushed you onto your back. — Cold? — said Qin, outraged — In the presence of the emperor? Unforgivable! Then he lay down close by and he whispered with a smile: — I will handle this matter myself. You giggled as he covered both of you with the duvet, and then pulled you into his chest. He held you tightly in embrace, with his face buried in your hair you felt his warm breath on your neck. — You smell nice — his words made you blush. You started massaging Qin’s muscular arm, feeling his bare skin with your fingers and listening to his slow breathing made your body completely relaxed, to the point where you had to fight with yourself to not fall asleep again. — Qin… — you mumbled. — Yes? — I’m sleepy… — That’s good to hear. You frowned but didn’t open your eyes. — No! I don’t want to sleep again because… because I hate waking up alone! You felt his grip tighten, and then his lips whispered next to your ear: — I’m never too far away. You opened you mouth and closed it almost immediately, feeling ashamed of yourself. — Well… You’re right — you said and sat straight— You have your responsibilities. You should go. — Oh? — you couldn’t help but smile at his disappointed reaction — The duties are where I am! Your attempt of withhold a laugh was mediocre, and soon the huge bedroom you shared was filled with loud laugher from both of you. Qin grabbed your arm and forced you to lie down next to him. — Here I thought I'd rest a little longer… — he sighed. — Oh, so you tried to use me as an excuse then! Qin presented you his false smile that he usually gives to unwanted advisors, and you stuck your tongue out at him in the response, then grabbed his cheek and moved his head towards you, so you could place a kiss on his lips. His hand appeared on your back almost immediately and the other one hid itself in you hair, pulling you closer to his warm body. — It seems you have a new reason to stay — you said once you stopped kissing and looked at the bulge in his pants. — Yes, and it requires an immediate solution. Qin touched your jaw and turned your face towards him. You could drown in his pure, innocence eyes, even now, when he had such dirty thoughts. You giggled, feeling sudden surge of shyness. Qin smacked his lips. — You shouldn’t make emperor wait.

#record of ragnarok #shuumatsu no valkyrie #ror x reader #snv x reader #ror hades #ror hermes #ror qin shi huang #ror hermes x reader #ror hades x reader #ror qin shi huang x reader #snv hades x reader #snv hermes x reader #snv qin shi huang x reader #udj

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justagalwhowrites · 3 months

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Yearling - Ch. 32: Promises

Joel adjusts to life in Jackson after his brush with death. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-31 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: References to canon-typical violence. Smut :). No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 9.5k

A/N: Hi y'all. If you're still looking at this fic but have skipped the last few chapters because of spoilers, this is a pretty safe chapter to jump back in at. You do need to understand that Joel was nearly killed in an encounter with an unnamed person while on patrol and that someone was looking for him in particular to have the context for this chapter. If you have any questions, feel free to DM me.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

December, 2027

“No.”

“Baby…”

“I said no, Joel.”

You stalked off to another room and Joel could feel your frustration from where he sat on the couch.

He sighed, debating whether or not to follow you or if he should stay where he was and let you cool off.

It wasn’t the first time the two of you had had this discussion over the last six weeks.

Joel had made significant recovery since the incident in November. His leg had mostly healed, though he still walked with a slight limp. But he could breathe deeply without feeling the burning pain of broken ribs now. And the parts of him the doctors had to cut away so he would survive - part of his liver, part of his intestine, one of his kidneys - no longer constantly hurt to the point of occasional agony. Everything was tolerable now, if not necessarily what it was before.

As a result, he was starting to go a little stir crazy. Admittedly, the doctors hadn’t cleared him for anything too strenuous - though he wondered how much of that was your doing versus theirs - but he wanted to start preparing to go back to the life he had in Jackson. One where he felt fulfilled, like he had his place in the community and a way to contribute.

You, however, weren’t too happy with that plan.

Joel sighed and got up from the couch, the muscle in his leg burning as he did. Things still hurt and pulled at first - and he was sure getting on a horse would be uncomfortable at best - but it would pass. Or he’d get used to it.

Either way, he wasn’t content with continuing to sit in his house and rot.

“Sweetheart,” he said, finding you in the kitchen.

You closed the fridge door with too much force, making the jars of canned produce inside rattle.

“No,” you said, adding milk to a cup of tea on the counter. “Find a place to sit, I don’t want you spilling hot tea all over yourself.”

“I’m not a kid,” he said, a little defensive. “I know perfectly well what I’m capable of…”

“No, you don’t,” you said, leveling him with a glare before returning the milk to the fridge and pointing to his spot at the table. “Now sit.”

Joel squared his jaw for a moment before going for the kitchen table - trying to walk with as little a limp as he could manage even though it fucking hurt - and sitting down there. He took a deep breath as you got the mugs of tea and carried them to the table, setting one in front of him and the other in front of the seat he’d come to think of as yours. You settled in beside him, holding the mug with both hands, seemingly determined to not actually look at him.

“We need to talk about it,” he said gently.

“I’m not going to discuss you going out there to get yourself fucking killed, Joel,” you snapped. “I’m not doing it, I’m not going through that again. End of story.”

Joel tried to remind himself that he wouldn’t feel any differently if he were in your position. He couldn’t blame you for it.

You’d been a mess when he woke up. It had just taken him a few minutes to really realize it.

It was like you couldn’t get close enough to him once you were against him, clinging to him as you tried to not disturb him or put any weight on him. But once he got you settled, you fell asleep quickly.

Joel, however, was wide awake. Part of him was afraid to go to sleep again. He didn’t want to not wake up, he wasn’t confident enough that he would. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious but it felt like he’d slept enough for a lifetime.

So he just held onto you. He soaked up the feel of you in his arms, a sensation he thought he’d never have again. He tried to pick through the fog of his mind, remember what had happened before, but it felt so far away, nothing but a haze of blood and hurt before your voice was there. After a while, he left it alone.

But you didn’t sleep the way you normally did. At first, you seemed stiff, like you were still conscious enough to be worried about hurting him. That didn’t last too long. Your whole body relaxed, as limp and pliant as you were when he’d just made you come again and again. But you almost never actually found rest that way. Even with Joel beside you, there was part of you that was always tense and ready to defend yourself. A byproduct, he was sure, of years of torment that could strike at any time. You only slept that way when you were at the point of total exhaustion, when your body physically couldn’t be on guard anymore.

As much as he wanted to talk to you - ask you what happened, how you were feeling, how long he’d been like this - he wanted you to rest more. You needed it, your whole body desperate for it. So when his door opened just as the light in the room shifted to the pink and orange of dawn, his hold on you tightened ever so slightly.

Carol, one of the doctors, didn’t even notice him watching her come in at first, nearly jumping out of her skin when she realized that his eyes were open.

“Joel!” She yelped and you stirred ever so slightly against him. He held you tighter.

“Shhh,” he hushed her before whispering, soft and low. “She needs her rest. Don’t think she’s had much of that lately.”

“But…”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere,” he said. “Let ‘er sleep. Can look me over in a bit.”

She rolled her eyes but left all the same and he watched you, lost in you. You’d survived. He remembered being afraid that you wouldn’t but you had, and so had he. He trailed his fingers gently over your exposed skin, marveling at the softness of you, that you loved and trusted him enough to let your softness be this close.

The sun was high when the door opened again, not easing open this time but flying, Ellie tearing into the room in a blur of wild hair and disheveled clothes. The door smacking into the wall made you wake with a jolt and he held you close as he felt that tension shock back into your limbs.

“Joel!” Ellie barreled over to him and he couldn’t help but smile as she skidded to a stop at his bedside as you sat up.

“Hey baby girl.”

“You’re awake,” her voice was thick as she sat down near you at the edge of the bed. “Fuck, I didn’t…”

“Are you OK?” He asked, trying to look her over.

“I’m fine,” she waved him off. “You scared the shit out of me but I’m fine. The doc said I needed to get you to let her look you over? What the fuck, Joel?”

“Joel!” You looked down at him, wide awake now, his head propped up on pillows.

“You needed rest,” he shrugged.

“You needed to be examined by a doctor!” You snapped, unfolding yourself from your place at his side. He tried to hold onto you but you leveled him with a glare. “After everything we did to get you here alive, don’t even start.”

He tried very hard not to laugh.

“Whatever you say, baby.”

He seemed to frustrate you a lot after that. You talked to the doctors more than he did, never leaving his side and listening to everything they said with a hard look on your face. He tried to ask more about what happened to you - he remembered you bleeding and your face was still damaged but healing - but you changed the subject back to him immediately every time.

Joel was ready for things to go back to normal as quickly as he could manage but you were nervous, hesitant. The first time you dared leave him at the clinic, something happened with a horse and Olivia came to get you. It was the third day he was awake and you were gone long enough that he was able to get out of bed and try to walk on his own. He didn’t make it very far, all but falling into a chair near the door after using the wall to haphazardly balance as he went. The chair smacked into the wall and Joel heard scrambling from the hall before Carol threw open the door, her eyes wide and panicky before she saw where Joel had ended up.

“Are you trying to get yourself hurt?” She demanded as she helped him back to bed.

“No,” he said, defensive. “I’m tryin’ to get myself back to normal…”

“Joel, you’re 60 years old…”

“Don’t remind me.”

“…And injuries take time to recover from. You’re not a young man anymore, you can’t push yourself the way you used to.”

“I’m not a young man anymore,” he agreed as she helped lower him to the bed, his body seeming so hulking and large beside hers. “I can’t afford to waste time bein’ useless.”

“Recovery isn’t useless,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “If you’re not going to listen to me then you need to listen to that woman of yours, Joel. Take it easy and don’t do things like get up without someone there to help if you need it.”

Carol was nice enough to not tell you about the fact that he got out of bed and walked to the chair, at least. But she had distinctly sided with you in all matters related to his recovery after that, as had Tommy, Ellie, Maria and Savvy.

It didn’t help that there were clearly conversations happening that no one wanted to tell him about. He heard raised voices from the front room of the clinic one day, you and Ellie going back and forth about something he couldn’t quite make out until there was the sharp boom of Tommy’s voice ending the conversation.

“Care to tell me what that was this afternoon?” He asked as you settled into his side to sleep after Ellie and Tommy had gone home for the night.

“Depends on how pissed off you want to be,” you replied, draping your arm gingerly over his chest and settling in with your head on his shoulder.

“Not gonna piss me off,” he said gently. You had shrugged out of the button down of his that you’d worn that day before climbing in bed, stripped down to the tank top below and he could feel your skin so easily like this, his hand skimming over your bared arm. You pressed yourself closer.

“Yes it is,” you said quietly, stretching and kissing his throat before settling at his side again.

“Can’t go the rest of our lives without shit pissin’ me off, baby,” he said gently. “Don’t think I can handle you treatin’ me like glass the whole time, either.”

“I just worry,” you said softly. “I don’t want to do this without you, can’t give you a damn heart attack because Ellie has some scheme…”

“So it’s Ellie that’s causin’ the trouble,” he said.

You groaned.

“Fine,” you said. “Better not get all worked up and just let me handle it. Trust me when I say I have it, Joel, I really do…”

“Baby.”

You sighed again.

“From what Tommy was conscious for and what little you remember,” you said slowly. “The people who… those people. They were after you. Specifically you. And Ellie… she hasn’t taken kindly to that.”

“Alright…”

“She wants to go find them,” you sighed. “She thinks she can handle it…”

“No,” he said, already moving to get up but you held him down.

“Joel.”

“She’s not doin’ that…”

“I know she’s not,” you said, still holding him in place. “I told you, Tommy and I have it handled.”

“I don’t want her to go after them,” Joel said, letting himself relax back into the mattress and your hold on him eased. “Don’t want any of you putting yourself at risk on some damn fool mission…”

“I know.”

“She needs to get that shit outta her head…”

“I know, Joel.”

He sighed.

“This is such a fuckin’ mess. All of it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you said quietly, nuzzling in closer to him. “All that matters is you’re alive and you’re here. We’ll figure it out.”

You figuring it out, apparently, just meant keeping Joel under lock and key for the foreseeable future. Your jaw was set tight across the table and you fidgeted with your mug, your thumb tapping out a stuttering rhythm on the handle.

“I need to contribute,” Joel said gently. You glared at him. “Sweetheart…”

“You can contribute without leaving Jackson,” you said. “Your value here isn’t limited to going on fucking patrol…”

“It’s a big part of my value, Baby, yeah,” he said. “I don’t got a lot of skills…”

“You were a contractor before,” you snapped. “You think buildings here don’t need to be repaired? That things don’t need to be constructed? Do that, let them take you out of the patrol rotation.”

“I’m not gonna hide,” he said, trying to get you to look at him even as you seemed bound and determined not to. “I want to get back out there, I want to do my part…”

“Your part doesn’t include getting fucking murdered, Joel!”

“I sure hope it doesn’t,” he reached out and took your hand, his thumb running over your knuckles. “I want to be here, with you, for a good, long time, baby. But I can’t… I can’t be something I’m not. And I’m not someone who just lets other people take on all the risk while he sits at home, on his ass…”

“Joel.”

“You say you love me,” he said. You actually met his eyes with that, glassy and wet at the edges.

“Of course I love you,” you said, not as harsh now. “I love you so goddamn much, I can’t lose you, I can’t, do you understand me?”

“I know, Baby,” he reached out, his large hand cupping your face. “And I’m not planning on going anywhere. But I can’t be the man you love by hidin’ away and waitin’ for trouble to come to someone else. I need to be the one to handle it. Me. I need to take care of my own business, need to look after you, need to take care of our girls. I can’t do that here, acting like I’m not capable of doing my part. I’m going back out there, Baby, and I’d like to do it knowin’ that you’ll still be speaking to me when I get back.”

“You don’t get to ask me to watch you hurt yourself,” your voice was thick. “I will not watch you die, Joel. I’m not going to do it and you don’t get to ask me to.”

“I’m not,” he said gently. “But, Sweetheart, if I am gonna go? I’d like to go out as myself. And that means going back out on patrol.”

Your eyes searched his for a moment before you all but collapsed against his shoulder, your arms snaking up around his neck, a sob cracking through you. He put his arms around you, rocking you gently.

Part of him had been waiting for this to happen. Beyond when he caught you off guard when he first woke up, you’d been nothing but strong and stoic. The only time there was a hint of anything else was when the two of you went to bed at night. You clung to him then, Joel swallowing any hint of hurt you accidentally caused when you held him tight. You breathed him in deep, pressed as much skin to him as you could manage. Sometimes, those deep breaths were shaky ones, like you were trying not to cry. He just held onto you, wishing you’d say something - anything - so he’d know how you were feeling. But you didn’t. So he took care of you the best way he could while you were focused on taking care of him.

“It’s alright,” his hand spread wide over your back, keeping a slow and steady rhythm as it ran up and down your spine. Your tears were racking, choking, making your whole body shake. “You’re OK, I’ve got you, s’alright…”

“I can’t,” you sobbed against him. “I can’t, I can’t… you can’t leave me, Joel, you can’t.”

“M’not gonna leave you, Baby,” he said softly. “I promise you. I’ll always come home to you.”

“You can’t know that,” you sniffed, your sobs calming to sniffles. “Seeing you like that…”

“I know,” he said quietly. He’d seen you nearly dead enough times, he knew. He understood it. “I’m sorry, Baby, I’m so sorry…”

“Then why are you insisting on trying to go back out there,” you sat back from him. “If you understood it, you’d stay here with me and with Ellie and Savvy, you wouldn’t do this. Not to yourself, not to me, not to them…”

“I know,” he said again, looking in your eyes, begging you to understand. “But that girl… she took a lot from me, baby. A few organs, more time than I really want. Almost took my future with you and the girls. Not gonna let her take who I am, too. And I need to go back out there. Not gonna just hide in here, afraid, for the rest of my life.”

Your eyes searched his, wide and wet, and then you sighed.

“I have conditions. If you expect me to be OK with this…”

“Of course,” he said quickly. “What are they?”

“You go out with Tommy or me,” you said. “No one else. I don’t trust you out there with Jesse or fucking Gene…”

“They were tryin’ to do the right thing…”

“The right thing was saving you,” you snapped. “You go out with Tommy or with me or not at all.”

“Alright,” he said. “You or Tommy. At least to start.”

You glared at him for a moment but you pressed on.

“You don’t even think about going out until you’re fully cleared by both doctors,” you said. “None of this second opinion bullshit, they’re both on board or you don’t go.”

“I can do that,” he nodded slowly. “You’re being very reasonable, Baby, I’m impressed…”

“Oh, fuck off.”

He laughed a little and tugged you closer to press a kiss to your temple. You melted into his chest, head nestling against his shoulder so that your nose brushed his neck.

“I promise, I don’t have a death wish,” he said, thumb tracing a path over your arm. “I always want to come home to you. I just need to do this, too.”

“I know,” you said softly. “I’m just… I’m so scared with you. All the time, I’m so afraid. It’s different than with Savvy, I’ve always been afraid with her. Scared I was gonna drop her or accidentally hurt her or not teach her the right thing or teach her too much. Scared I couldn’t save her. She’s my heart just walking around outside my body, I’m used to being afraid with her. But it’s different than how I feel about you and I just… I’ve never loved someone the way I love you and I don’t know how to live with being afraid of losing that.”

He took a deep breath and held you a little tighter.

“Know the feeling.”

It was just a few days to Christmas and preparations were in full swing. The tree was up in the middle of town, lights lined the buildings, Julie had been hoarding supplies for some kind of holiday cocktail that she claimed was a surprise that you were highly skeptical of. You, Ellie and Savvy had picked a tree for his living room just the week before and set it up, Savvy standing back with a slight frown on her face the whole time.

“What’s up, baby girl?” Joel asked, sitting in an arm chair as he watched you and Ellie decorate. His leg wasn’t quite up for standing that much yet.

“It’s just…” She looked at him for a moment and perched on the arm of the chair before looking back at you. “People really did this before? Put trees in their houses?”

“Yeah,” Joel smiled up at her. “They did. Biggest holiday of the year for a lot of the world, trees inside stores and offices and shit, too.”

She crossed her arms, her brows knitting together as she frowned.

“She never did this with me,” she said quietly. “I read about Christmas in a book once but it didn’t talk about this part and she didn’t talk about it much when I asked and… I don’t get it.”

Joel nodded slowly. Savvy was still warming up to you. She seemed skeptical of your motivations, of your intentions, of everything you said. It was hard to tell how much of it was teenaged cynicism and how much was rooted in her feelings of abandonment. But since you’d all but moved into Joel’s house, she’d been around you more and more and you did your best to let her guide it. He could tell how much it was killing you, though. He knew the feeling well, remembering back to the days when Ellie wouldn’t even look at him. He could tell how badly you wanted to cling to her. He saw how much you wanted her to stay close and tell you everything in the way you hung on her every word, the way you watched the door for a full minute after she left to go back to Ellie’s. But you needed her to be OK with it more. That just didn’t make things any easier.

“What did she tell you?” Joel asked, keeping his voice low enough that it wouldn’t rise over the Christmas carols you’d put on the stereo.

“Stuff she did with her parents,” she shrugged. “That her brothers would tease her about being bad… None of this stuff.”

“Well,” Joel said slowly. “Think she told you the important stuff.”

She looked at him, skeptical.

“The important stuff ain’t the decorations, it’s the people,” he said. “She couldn’t give you the other things so she told you about your family. Don’t think she was trying to hide anything from you. She shared with you what mattered.”

She nodded slowly and looked toward the tree again until Ellie turned around and called her over to put an ornament on the tree. You bit your lip as you watched her do it, your eyes wide and soft and you hesitantly put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a squeeze when she stepped back to look at her handiwork.

Joel was steadfastly trying to focus on the holiday instead of the tension that had settled over the town since his attack. Patrols had been ramped up, sending people out in small groups instead of pairs. There were growing signs of people present in the wilderness, more xes on trees and remains of fires. Tommy had told Joel - much to your chagrin - that the prevailing theory was they were marking Jackson territory, the signs always found at the edges of where patrols ran. As though someone was watching for where they could seize power. Everyone was on tenterhooks, waiting for something worse to happen.

But the build up to Christmas seemed to have taken everyone’s minds off the looming threat. Joel was thankful for it. It seemed to have lightened your mood some, too - part of why he decided to bring up the patrol issue yet again.

He didn’t tell you that he was set to see Carol the next day to hopefully get cleared for patrol. And… other activities.

The cruelty of the timing of the attack hadn’t been lost on Joel. He’d just gotten you back, hadn’t even had 12 damn hours with you before he had to leave for patrol and then almost never came back. But he’d lived and, while you’d been close ever since, you weren’t close enough.

He wanted you.

That wasn’t quite right, he always wanted you. He was pretty sure he’d wanted you since the moment he first saw you. He was beyond that now. He needed you so bad he ached with it, his whole fucking body hurt with it sometimes. But you wouldn’t touch him without the doctors saying it was OK. Even though, at this point, he was starting to think it was medically dangerous to be so fucking wanting.

“Are you goin’ to the stables today?” Joel asked, holding you close. You nodded against him. “You think you’ll be done in time for the movie?”

“Definitely,” you said. “Savvy’s never seen a Christmas movie, not missing that.”

He kissed your forehead.

“Been meanin’ to ask you something,” he said.

“Hm.”

“Think you’ll be my date for the dance tomorrow night?” He asked. You pulled back from him and glared, your eyes still red. He smiled a little. “Know I left it to last minute but I’m hoping…”

“Of course I’ll be your date,” you shoved him ever so lightly. “Who else am I gonna go with? Been cooped up here with you for the last month, all my other prospects have given up on me…”

He laughed and kissed you.

“Guess you’ll just have to be my girl, then.”

“Guess so.”

He kissed you again, deeply, firmly. But it was different than so many other kisses he’d shared with you over the past few weeks. There was heat behind it. A twinge of need and want that tasted so familiar on your tongue. You moaned and adjusted so you were closer to him, your body curving, leg hitching up over his so you could press your mound against his thigh. He gripped you tighter, pulled you closer, but you pulled back with a groan.

“Baby,” he breathed but you shook your head.

“Not going to risk hurting you,” you panted.

“Not gonna hurt me…”

“Not sure I trust your judgement,” you gave him a final, chaste, peck on the lips. “I’ll see you tonight, walk over with you and the girls.”

“Have a good day,” he said.

“I will if you take it easy,” you replied, extracting yourself gently from his grip and heading out the door.

He watched you leave and waited for a few minutes to make sure you were gone before he got up, too. It was almost Christmas and there were things he wanted to do.

***

Joel looked far too pleased with himself, his hand on your thigh as you sat beside him at the Tipsy Bison. You had one of Julie’s special cocktails - something she called the Grinch and tasted like mint - and were well on your way to being tipsy for the first time in months.

Savvy and Ellie were sitting with some friends - Dina, Jesse, the boy from school you suspected Savvy had a crush on named Kyle - and looked to be having fun. You hoped Savvy would talk to you about it later. She’d been opening up a little bit more, never fully pulling away like she had for so long. You took what you could get, thankful that she was willing to speak to you at all.

She’d gone with you, Joel and Ellie to the movie the night before. It was Miracle on 34th Street. She seemed to enjoy it, smiling and watching the screen in wonder, soaking it all in. It was bittersweet to see. You’d always wanted to be able to give her these things, the kinds of things you remembered loving as a girl at the holidays. But there was a certain cruelty in it, too. She’d never see a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade, never visit a mall Santa. Jackson brought her closer to the life you’d led as a girl but it was still so far away and it was hard, not being able to share it with her.

But Ellie had talked her into spending Christmas Day with you and Joel. You’d damn near kissed her when she told you and you felt a little like you had as a child on Christmas Eve, the greatest gift you could have ever asked for, spending the day with Savvy, Joel and Ellie all together.

But Joel seemed as excited as you were, a small smile tugging at his lips as you sat across from Tommy and Maria.

“Can’t believe it’s Christmas again,” Maria said, taking a drink of his beer. “Swear, time goes by faster and faster every damn year.”

“I’ll take time goin’ faster as long as that means it’s still goin’,” Joel replied.

“Know that’s right,” Tommy shook his head a little, half smile on his face. “We’re all still standing and after the last year, seems like the best I can ask for.”

“Y’all doing anything special for William this year?” You asked, turning your cocktail glass slowly in your fingers. “He’s getting big enough to know what’s going on now.”

“Santa’s planning to make a visit,” Tommy smiled a little. “He’s been pretty good lately, figure that should be rewarded.”

You smiled back, looking toward Savvy. She was facing the boy on the bench next to her and his fingers traced the outside of her knee and she smiled.

The music changed, the strains of the song familiar. Hallelujah. You looked toward Joel and he smiled a little wider, the change so subtle you doubted anyone but you would notice.

“This is hardly a Christmas song.”

“There’s an argument to be made,” he said. “Heard it on the radio sometimes at Christmastime, it counts.”

He took his hand off your thigh and held it out to you. An offering.

“C’mon, baby,” his eyes were hot on you. “Call it an early Christmas present.”

You put your hand in his and let him lead you to the dance floor. You draped your arms over his shoulders, fingers trailing through his hair as he tugged your body close to his.

“See?” He said, tracing your nose with his. “Not so bad.”

“Helps when you’ve got a good partner,” you smiled a little. “How’s that leg of yours doing?”

“Good as new,” he said. “Definitely isn’t gonna keep me from dancing with you, that’s for damn sure.”

You laughed a little before you nestled your head against his chest, sighing contentedly.

“I’m so glad you’re still here to dance with,” you said quietly as you swayed with him. He gave you a gentle squeeze.

“Me too,” he said softly, almost sadly.

“I feel like I wasted so much time,” you whispered, tears pricking the corners of your eyes and making your throat tight. You got like this a lot lately, this haze of what almost was hanging over you. “I should have known better and…”

“Hey,” he said, pulling back from you just enough to look in your eyes. “You didn’t do anything wrong, didn’t waste anything. I gave you a lot of shit to work through, more than you ever should have had to deal with. You did what you needed to do, s’not a waste.”

“What if I’d lost you?” You asked softly. “What if I never came over that night, what if…”

“What if a lot of things,” he cut you off. “Doesn’t matter. We got here. That’s the important thing.”

He pulled you back against him and you pressed your ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Gotta ask,” he said, tone lighter after a moment. “Never had any of those fancy dance classes you had. How do I hold up compared to the guys who did?”

You laughed once, burying your face in his chest for a moment.

“Best partner I ever had,” you said.

He chuckled a little, his lips brushing your forehead.

“Good.”

You held him closer, moving with him slowly on the dance floor for a while. You weren’t sure how long. You let yourself get lost in him. The way he swayed in time to a rhythm your body was more in tune with than your mind, the way he felt so warm as he wrapped around you, the way his heart beat and the rise and fall of his chest were constant and stable. The way he was whole in your arms. It was like you could finally relax into that reality, you’d reached a point that you weren’t just scared anymore. He was here, he wasn’t going to fade away to nothing in the night. His heart would keep beating, his chest would keep rising, you wouldn’t need to find a way to do this without him.

“Ready to go?” He asked softly after what felt like a while. “Want to get you home.”

“Yeah,” you said, separating from him enough to look at him. “Let’s go.”

You went and said your goodbyes to Tommy and Maria and Joel stopped by the girls’ table - scaring the shit out of Kyle by the look of it, Kyle’s eyes wide and terrified - before lacing his fingers with yours for the walk home.

“What did you say to them?” You asked, walking close enough to him that you could feel the slight limp he had now.

“Told ‘em to get home at a reasonable time,” he shrugged. “And no boys behind closed doors. Don’t want that Kyle kid gettin’ any ideas…”

You snorted.

“It looked like you threatened to castrate the boy,” you said. “I don’t want anyone taking advantage of Savvy but I don’t want everyone terrified to date her, either.”

“Didn’t get that specific with it,” Joel said, a little defensive. “Just made it clear that someone was watchin’. And that someone was me.”

You smiled and shook your head a little.

“You’re ridiculous,” you said. “But… thank you. For taking care of my daughter.”

He looked at you, his face serious as you came to a stop at his front walk.

“Course,” he said. “She’s an amazing kid, Bambi. You did a great job with her. And… might not deserve it but… feels like she’s mine, too. Love her like she’s mine. Hope that’s OK.”

You looked at him for a moment, his eyes soft and warm, the lines of his face familiar landscapes. For a moment, it was as though your heart had broken open with him, cracked down to the center because the love you had for him couldn’t be held there anymore. You pulled him close to you, kissing him soft and deep.

Or it started that way, at least. But his body against yours, the sharpness of your love in your chest, the taste of him on your tongue pushed you into desire. It didn’t take much to spark it - it had been so long since you’d had him - but once it was there, it burned hot and fast, swallowing the reminder that you should keep yourself under control quickly.

“C’mon,” Joel said against your lips, breathless. “Let’s go inside.”

You nodded and followed him inside, using the short walk from the street to his front door as a chance to try to get the want that was flaring inside you under control. It was too soon, it had to be too soon and you weren’t going to risk Joel’s health just because you were aching to have him as close as possible.

Joel pulled you back against him as he he closed the door behind the two of you, tilting your head to give him better access to your mouth, his fingertips sinking into your skin as he gripped you tight. You swallowed a moan and tried to keep yourself from giving in even as you pressed yourself closer to him.

“Joel,” you breathed, pulling your lips from his, his hands still holding you against him. “We… we should stop…”

“Don’t need to,” he said, kissing you gently again.

“Joel…”

“Went to the doctor today,” he kissed over the line of your jaw, following the curve of your bones up to your temple where his lips lingered. “Said there’s a lot I’m allowed to do now. Including everything I want to do to you.”

He trailed kisses down to your neck and you moaned as his lips pressed into the sensitive skin there.

“I’ll beg if I have to,” he whispered. “But I need you, baby. Need to have you close, need to be inside of you.”

“Fuck,” you panted, eyes closed, fighting to focus. “Are…” his mouth found a particularly sensitive spot, kissing and sucking you gently and sending goosebumps spreading over your skin. “Jesus… are you… are you sure? I don’t want you gettin’ hurt…”

“I’m sure,” he said softly, finally pulling his lips from your skin to look in your eyes again, your body cradled against his. “Bein’ apart from you has damn near killed me. Need to feel you.”

“Need you, too,” you breathed, caving to your baser instincts. “Please, Joel.”

He kissed you again and you could taste the desperation on his tongue, heat pooling between your hips. He guided you toward the stairs as he shrugged out of his coat and pushed yours off your shoulders and down your arms. He left both in a heap on the floor, keeping his mouth against your own until the two of you were at the base of the stairs. You only separated long enough to go up them, Joel pulling you back against him on the second story landing.

You let him guide you, tried to focus on being gentle with him instead of pulling him to you and pressing him against you the way you wanted.

But you could only resist so long. You tugged at his shirt, pulling at the buttons until you could shove it down his arms and toss it to the floor, too. He did the same with yours, discarding it in the hall before pulling you into his bedroom, nudging the door closed with his foot. It wasn’t long before you were both naked next to his bed, bodies pressed close and tight, his cock thick and hard and weeping against your stomach.

You took control then, turning him in your arms so that he was against the bed. He lowered himself back onto it slowly, his grip on you gentle but secure so you were on his lap, straddling him as you kissed him.

“Really fucking missed you,” he whispered, kissing down your jaw to your neck to your chest. He rocked his hips up against you, his thick shaft nestled against your clit, the motion making you moan. “Goddamn, missed you so much.”

His hands slipped over your skin to your breasts, cupping and cradling them before lavishing his hot, wet mouth over the soft swell of flesh there. He sucked a nipple into his mouth with a needy groan and you couldn’t help but roll your hips against him as he did, your tight, hot center clenching and gripping at nothing, desperate for something to pull deep inside. Joel’s tongue teased the firm nub between his lips, licking and sucking you, making you moan and rock yourself against him on his lap before moving to the other breast, giving you the same treatment there.

“Joel,” you whimpered, fingers tangling in his curls. He pulled his mouth from your chest to look in your eyes, his gaze soft and hot like starlight.

“Think you can come like this for me?” He asked softly. “Want you to come for me, want you to be so wet and soft inside for me, think you can do that?”

You just nodded and his hands slid around to your back as he buried his face in your throat before going back to your breasts as he rutted his thick, dripping length up against your clit, the silken firmness of him pressing close and tight against your wet heat. You ground your hips down against him, desperate for more, to be as close as you could be to him, his body determinedly angled to keep you from working him into you. There was a tightening ache in you, the burn of need for something that was just out of reach making your head spin and pleasure spool.

“Just gotta come for me,” his voice was hot and needy. “Just come for me, all you gotta do. Just come, just come, please baby, just come, want to feel you come like this, you can give me that, know you can…”

His desperate words were what you needed, the tension in you rising until you felt like you were going to break with wanting before your orgasm hit you hard, a wave of pleasure rolling over you. It was sharp, you hadn’t come in weeks, and you could feel all of it. How your clit throbbed against his cock, how your entranced pulsed and grasped at the root of him, how it seemed like your entire being was trying to pull him into yourself.

“Oh fuck,” he held you tight to him, his cock pressed tight against you, so firm that you could feel him against your pubic bone. “Fuck, just like that. Gonna feel so good inside you baby, gonna be so goddamn good, just get all that come all over me, feel so good drippin’ all over me.”

You dropped your head to his shoulder, body going limp for a moment as your orgasm finished. Joel cradled you to him before going to adjust you on the bed but you stopped him, sitting up again and pressing back on his shoulders.

“Baby,” he groaned but you took his face in your hands and tilted his head so you could kiss him, really kiss him, the kind of kiss that was more hungry and consuming and claiming than anything else.

“Let me,” you whispered when you pulled your lips from his just enough to speak. He let you adjust him then, until he was flat on his back in the middle of the bed, your folded legs bracketing his thighs. You stroked his cock - wet with your come and leaking his own arousal - before rising onto your knees to notch his thick head at your entrance. Joel’s hands went to your thighs, his thumb tracing the scar there, the one from the knife you’d taken to the leg when trying to save him. His eyes were trained on it, his fingertips digging into your flesh more sharply there than your other leg. His eyes traced up your body to the scar at your stomach, just as harsh and red and raw as the one at your leg.

“Not tonight,” you said quietly. His eyes found yours. “It’s not about that tonight.”

He didn’t say anything. Instead, his callused hands slid up your thighs to your hips and you eased down onto his hard length. You moaned as you took him into yourself, his thick cock sinking into your soft heat. He felt so good inside of you, your body remembering just how to make him a part of you. It had been weeks but it didn’t matter, he was built into you now, he fit into you the way no one else ever could, filling and stretching you totally. His breaths stuttered as more and more of him entered you, his fingertips clutching onto the soft flesh of your hips and ass harder and harder with every inch of him that worked its way into you. Just as the ridge of his head ghosted against the back wall of your channel, your hips met his and you let yourself adjust for a moment, savoring the feel of him inside you that way.

Joel was panting for breath below you, his eyes tracing over your body again and again as your channel gripped him.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he looked in your eyes as he said it. “Most beautiful goddamn thing I’ve ever seen.”

You just moaned a little, your hands coming to rest on the broad expanse of his chest, fingers splaying wide over his skin. But you didn’t move otherwise. He felt too good like this, so deep inside you. You almost didn’t want to move, didn’t care if you didn’t make yourself come with him in you. He was deep inside and he was secure there. You could feel how whole and alive he was, the way his cock throbbed, the pulse of him, the comforting heat. Like this, he was yours. Unquestionably, undoubtedly yours and no one could take him away from you.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” his fingers tightened on you. “I… fuck… I need you to move, baby… I can’t keep goin’ like this, I need… I need you to move, need to feel you, please baby, please.”

You didn’t respond. You just started to rise on his cock, moving your hips slow and shaky over him, making him groan. When just his head was left barely inside your entrance, you thrust back down, his cock splitting you open again, his head falling back, mouth open in a desperate gasp.

You rode him like that for a while, you weren’t sure how long. The slow and aching lift, the devastating reclaiming as you took him again and again almost meditative. You watched each other, lost in the feeling of your bodies together, working in tandem to become something more than just yourselves.

Eventually, Joel tugged you closer, tilting you down until he could reach your face, his large palm curving over your jaw, his thumb pressing into your cheek.

“C’mere,” he whispered in the dim light of the moon on the snow outside his window. “Want to feel more of you.”

You folded yourself into him, your bodies aligned, his cock still buried deep but your chest now against his, your lips overing over his own, noses against each other. Even in the night, you could see the different shades of brown in his iris like this, all of them soft and full of love for you.

His hand slid to the small of your back, tilting your hips just so and holding you there as he started thrusting up into you and making you whimper.

“Let me,” he said softly.

You just nodded, letting him gently work himself into you again and again. The strokes were aching and smooth, almost rocking as he moved inside of you. The deep, full press of his thick cock into all the soft parts of you that existed because of him, the brief moment of feeling so full and whole before the tender rhythm he set within you pulled him back again.

“Joel,” you whimpered, so desperate. You weren’t sure you could even say anything else, every other word you’d ever learned reduced down to the only one that mattered in that moment.

“Together,” he said quietly, never breaking his rhythm. “OK baby? Together.”

You just nodded quickly. Your body was getting tighter and tighter and you kept your eyes on his, breathing the same air, feeling the press of his warm, soft skin into yours as your orgasm built alongside his.

“You’re close,” he said. It wasn’t a question and you didn’t need to answer. He could feel you and you could feel him, too. “I’m gonna come, want you to come with me. Going to fill you up so deep, baby, going to feel me so deep and I need to feel you, too.”

His hand that was on your back pressed into you firmer, taking root at the base of your spine and pushing your hips lower so his cock was deeper longer, his hips pressed against your clit with more heat and tension and, for a moment, it felt as though your entire body was on fire with need before the band of pleasure that had been winding tight inside you snapped. Your orgasm hit you like a wave, rushing out from your core and flooding through the rest of your being just as Joel pressed your hips down and flush with his, holding himself deep as he came with a strangled moan. Your channel fluttered around him, rippling and pulling him into you as he pulsed deep inside. You could feel him so clearly against and inside you, every inch of his skin, every throb of his cock, every gasping breath. You kissed him then, bodies connected in every way, until your orgasms eased and you went limp on top of him. Your head nuzzled against the side of his neck and you breathed in the scent of his skin as you came back down to earth, his arms keeping you flush against him as his cock softened inside of you, the combination of his come and yours already dripping out of you.

“Never goin’ that long without you again,” he said softly, his fingers tracing slow and easy abstract patterns over your skin. You hummed in agreement. “I’m gettin’ to be too old to be so deprived.”

You laughed a little.

“Should start being more careful then,” you said, reaching out to card your fingers through his hair.

“Well now that I have the proper motivation…”

You laughed again and closed your eyes. He held you like that for a while, until goosebumps from the winter air started prickling over your skin. He took you more firmly then, slipping his soft cock from the safe, soft warmth of you and slipping you down beside him on the bed. He pulled a blanket over the two of you and you sighed contentedly. He tugged you closer and you happily obliged, your legs tanging with his as he brushed your hair back before holding your face gently in his large hand. You just smiled a little, eyes on his. He smiled back, just enough that his cheek dimpled.

“You’re still feeling OK?” You asked quietly after a few minutes.

He laughed lightly.

“Whole lot better than OK,” he replied. “I’m amazing. Always amazing when I’m with you.”

You smiled a little wider.

“You know,” he said slowly. “I had a lot of time to think when I thought I was about to die.”

Your smile shifted to a frown but his didn’t, not really. His gaze was just soft, gentle. Like he was trying to leave himself as open as he could to take as much of you in as possible.

“I remember more of that than anything that actually happened in that room. Didn’t have much in the way of regrets,” he continued. “Had you to thank for most of that. Ellie and I had made things right, I was thankful for that. I was thankful you’d come back to me, even if it was just for a night. Thankful I got to tell you I loved you one last time…”

“Joel,” you whispered. His thumb stroked your cheek.

“I saw Sarah,” he said quietly. Your eyes went wide but you stayed silent. “When I was unconscious, I saw her. She was someplace good, somewhere that was bright and warm like her. And there was part of me that wanted to stay with her, take care of her and make sure she was OK. But… most of me wanted to come back here and be with you and the girls. And Sarah… she told me that it wasn’t my time yet. Told me I still had things to do here, that I needed to take care of you and Ellie and Savvy and I just… I knew she was right. I felt it, more than I’d felt so many other things, I felt that. I belong here, next to you. I don’t want to have any regrets when it comes to you but right now… well, I got one big one.”

“What?” You asked quietly, your heart beating faster.

“That I almost died before having the chance to live as your husband,” he said. Your breath caught. “But you saved me, gave me a chance to do it right. And I don’t think I deserve to ask you for a damn thing but I’m hopin’ you’ll let me, anyway. Will you give me that chance? Will you be my wife, will you marry me?”

Your heart was beating so fast that you could hear your blood in your ears. You reached out, hand trembling, and cupped his cheek.

“Of course I will,” you said softly, voice thick and wet. Joel smiled, tears glistening in his eyes, and he kissed you, gentle and deep and lovely, a kiss empty of expectation and full of promise.

When you separated, you just looked at him for a moment, taking him in, the man who would be your husband. The whole concept made you laugh, the sound bubbling up in you.

He just smiled.

“What, baby?”

“I just…” you paused, still laughing a little. “It’s the end of the world, how do you even get married now? Not like there’s a courthouse…”

“Well,” he said, rolling away from you for a moment and reaching into the drawer of his nightstand. You propped yourself up on your elbow and frowned, watching as he rolled back with a small wooden box in his hand. “Figure since the paperwork part don’t exist anymore, we can do it whatever way you want to but…” he opened the box. Inside was two rings, both dark metal, one band slender, the other thick. “Thought I’d make sure this part was covered.”

“Oh Joel,” you sat up all the way, letting the blanket pool around your hips. You took the smaller ring from the box and held it up, looking at it up close. “Where did you find these?”

“Made ‘em,” he said, sitting up, too. “They’re from one of Ares’ old horseshoes. Figured it was only appropriate…”

“They’re perfect,” you breathed, turning it over in your fingers for a moment before looking at him. “Could we… I mean, I know it’s fast but… would you be OK if we just did it now?”

“Did what?”

“Got married,” you said, watching him. “I understand if you want to wait or want the girls there but…”

“How do you want to do it?” He cut you off.

You smiled a little.

“How about we just make promises to each other.”

He smiled back.

“I like it,” he took his ring out and set the box aside. He held it out toward you and you took it before putting your ring in his palm. The two of you faced each other, blankets in your laps, knees brushing under the covers.

He took a deep breath.

“I promise I’ll love you with every part of me,” he said. “And I promise I’ll keep lovin’ you until there’s none of me left.”

“I promise to love you every second of the rest of my life,” you replied. “And every second of whatever comes after, too.”

“I promise to protect you,” he said. “Promise to never let anything hurt you.”

“I promise to take care of you,” you said. “And look out for you and protect you because where you go, I go.”

“I promise to love your girl like she’s my own,” he continued. “And I promise to take care of her and do everything I can to make sure she’s safe and happy.”

“I promise to love Ellie like you do,” you said. “I promise to help guide her and protect her and give her the life she deserves to have.”

You looked at each other for a moment, tears in your eyes, before Joel gently took your left hand in his.

“Think they used to say ‘with this ring, I thee wed,’ or something like that,” he said, thumb tracing your knuckles.

“That sounds right,” you smiled a little.

“Alright then,” he said, lining the ring up with your finger. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

He slipped it into place. It fit perfectly, settling at the base of your finger with a soothing sense of finality. Joel lifted your hand to his mouth and kissed you there, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment before releasing you. You held his ring tight in your palm for a second, warming the metal, before taking Joel’s left hand. You lined the ring up with his finger and took a deep breath before looking him in the eye.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

You slipped it into place, lacing your fingers with his once it settled where it belonged. You smiled, looking down and seeing his ring on your finger before looking back at him again.

“Think I get to kiss the bride now,” he said.

You laughed.

“I think so, too.”

He pulled you against him gently and kissed you all soft and deep, his lips holding every promise he’d made to you and, for the first time since the end of the world, you knew what it was to feel secure.

Next Chapter

A/N: ❤️

And that's all I have to say about that.

And that there's a lot more story to come. We're not quite to the end yet, I promise.

Thank you for being here and for reading. Love you!

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#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #smut fic

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tflaw · 2 years

Text

PLAYING FAVORITE.

꒰ა ❤︎ ໒꒱ . . . 3.2k — f!reader. reader calls diluc and kaeya ‘master’ since it is the term used by npcs working in dawn winery to address the two. in this context, it is not meant to be demeaning. diluc and kaeya take turns. pure filth + self-indulgent. kaeya & lots of dirty talking + fingering + exhibition teasing. diluc & his raging breeding kink <3. creampies. diluc cleaning his cum off of you with his mouth. doggy + prone bonez. slight mindbreak. drool + tears + overstimming. oral (m & f!receiving). use of the word pussy, like a lot.

In which, Diluc and Kaeya make sporadic visits to the Dawn Winery just to fuck their favorite maid: you.

“Master Kaeya… I don’t think we should… do this here.” Cheeks hot like coals, you squirmed, eyes darting here and there as your heart hoofed like crazy in your chest.

The Cavalry Captain only sighed, puffing an almost frustrated sound. “You just have to bend over and let me fuck this cock into you. That isn’t hard, is it?”

“Adelinde… might see us… the others might wake up…” You shuddered, pushing your back into his chest, afraid of the scant light emitted by the candles on tabletops surrounding you. Kaeya utilized the moment by reaching for the hem of your maid dress, and tugging the fabric up until your skin was exposed to the night air. You shot up a hand to cover your mouth, holding down his wrist timidly.

Because Kaeya had a penchant for fucking you in open spaces around the Winery: the living room, the kitchen, and outside with the vast stretch of grapevines witnessing your wits getting fucked out of your brains by the Captain.

“Hm?” Kaeya hummed while kissing your ear with his wet mouth. “You whine so much, but you took your underwear off before coming down here.” The length of his middle finger rubbed along your exposed slit, with Kaeya coating said finger with your slick before raising it to your face. “See? Your pussy’s thrilled that I’m going to fuck you here, where anyone could walk in on you taking my cock like a good girl.”

Rolling your lip between your teeth, shame burned in your stomach while watching his skin glint with your arousal. “That’s not true… I don’t want anyone to see us…”

At your weak response, Kaeya cackled throatily behind you.

“You’re adorable when in denial,” said he, big hand crawling inside your dress up to your breast, therefore displaying more of your skin and cunt. “Even your nipple’s hard. And you’re drooling here—” He stroked your slit again, teasing to fill your hole with his finger while pinching your nipple.

You wished he’d be done right with it. You wished that he would shove his fingers in, fill you, and make your head dizzy of your climax as soon as possible before anyone in the Winery decides to wake up for a glass of water. But Kaeya had never been one to rush things— especially not the fucking part.

“Master Kaeya—”

“Only Kaeya,” he gruffly whispered, biting your ear while rubbing your clit, his other hand still massaging the soft muscle of your breast and occasionally twiddling his fingers around the tight bud.

The way he played with your body sent forth an amount of clear slick to bubble out of your hole. He echoed a pleased hum, reveling at the quick way your body responded even after all those weeks since the last he fucked you dumb.

Tonight, Elzer’s desk inside the mansion had poked Kaeya’s fancy. He pulled you to the sturdy desk to sit, and sit you did with one last worried glance behind you.

“Kaeya…” you and your heart stuttered with anxiety.

Kaeya’s mouth trailed down your jaw, a hot and breathless chuckle fanning your skin, while he busied his fingers undoing the first buttons of your dress. “C’mon, don’t rush. You rarely visit me in the Headquarters. I get so lonely without you around,” said his mouth. My cock gets so lonely without you around, said his eye when he pulled back to stroke your cheek.

At your exposed chest, light crosses Kaeya’s uncovered eye. “Look at these tits. They’ve gotten bigger since the last time. Diluc likes to fondle them, I suppose?” he teased, pinching both your nipples and tugging lightly.

Your toes curled at his unhurried touches. More so when he took your nipple inside his mouth, languidly licking and taking his time sucking. As if your skin had been laced with something honeyed.

His mouth was warm, and the soft muscle of his tongue circling the bud felt too good. You almost didn’t notice the wet patch on his pants— right to where his cock was restrained— because of the feeling. He was rock-hard for you. Such an enticing sight that made your clit beat sporadically, therefore soiling the desk with your clear arousal.

There was nothing more left to deny that you wanted Kaeya’s cock ramming into you, too. You wanted him to completely obliterate your senses with it, give you something new to feel. A new memory to touch yourself to in the quiet confines of your bedroom once he’s gone.

With the look you gave him, every drop of pent-up desire took over Kaeya’s mind. It happened so fast that you barely had time to react, let alone breathe properly when he bent you over the table and popped his already wet and leaking cock into your trembling cunt.

“K… kaeya!” you gasped, palms sliding over the wooden desk as you struggled to find a niche to brace yourself with.

In a minute of pure silence, Kaeya hunched over your back, feeling his cock throb against the warmth of your walls with a familiarity that made his cocktip ache. “Archons,” he whispered, tipping his head close to your ear, “I’ve missed your pussy I could cry.”

Everything became a blur after that statement. And you didn’t think you’d ever been fucked that hard by him before, to the point where the desk kept being pushed forward because of the ferocity. Certainly, Kaeya had it in him to leave your legs trembling for a couple more minutes after pulling out, but this time was different. He would ruin you and you’d love every second of it.

Because after so many nights of emptying his balls, desperate hands pumping his cock up and down, Kaeya knew he wouldn’t stop even if he saw Adelinde from a distance.

“Don’t squeeze too hard,” Kaeya hissed, milking himself dry and grunting at the sound of creamy squelching. “I don’t want to come yet.”

But he’d come soon, you believed. He’d come by the way he was practically mounting you, propping his one leg up to the nearest chair so he could fuck his cock to your velvet spot until his slit becomes raw and you turn a mess of drool underneath him.

The smacking sounds were loud. Heavy slam after heavy slam, your butt and his pelvis met.

Losing a bit of himself after each thrust, Kaeya perspired like he’d ran a mile, cursing and grunting while watching the angry veins of his cock in and out of your twitchy hole.

What a fucking sight, he thought to himself.

“There’s just something about you and your pussy, huh?” he struggled to say through the tight lock in his chest due to your pussy squeezing his shaft. “Something that could make a madman out of a gentleman, salivating for a piece of it.”

Your slick languidly trickled down the carpeted floor while Kaeya pounded the daylights out of you. His penetration had rendered you with an open mouth, drooling on Elzer’s desk.

“Gonna cum,” Kaeya groaned, movement becoming more erratic. “I’m gonna cum.”

You pushed a hand to your mouth, letting out a helpless squeal when he mounded the soft flesh of your hips and fucked his cock into you to the base. He throbbed inside your walls— too intense that you felt it all over your body.

Kaeya tried to chase his high with jagged breathing and curses, but even he had been left weak by the amount of cum he’d ram inside your womb. A creamy glob slid together with his pulling out, which drove him into a slight panic.

Kaeya cupped your pussy from the back to stop the leakage. “Need to keep it inside, pretty,” he murmured, fingering the thick liquid back into you carefully.

And you, quivering on the table, exerted yourself in picking bits and pieces of your sanity back. His sticky cum was felt all over your pussy lips, making the skin tight with each second that you remained bare. It took Kaeya to gently pull you so you could stand on your own again.

“You never change.” He caressed your cheek softly before buttoning up your dress. “And that’s what I…” whispered he, pushing his face close to yours, “… love about you.”

He’d kiss you, just like he always did before. He’d kiss you and whisper how good you were for him. And again, you’d fall into his trap like a helpless mouse. Because you have yet to learn how to escape Kaeya’s claws.

“What a surprise. I wouldn’t have expected to see you both awake.”

Intense goosebumps bolted up your spine at the voice. You wouldn’t have found the strength to break free from being dumbstruck had panic not coerced you to.

“Master Diluc…” you stammered, smoothing out your dress and stealing a glance at Kaeya, who stood unperturbed by Diluc’s presence.

“Diluc. Adelinde failed to disclose your arrival,” he said, amused.

Diluc’s carmine eyes glinted in the candlelight. He sighed, loosening his gloves as he advanced. “I told her to keep my arrival in strict confidentiality. It is not of import, anyway.”

“Master Diluc… let me help you…” You reached for his coat, offering your help with your eyes cast downwards. There was not any strength left in you to face him. The atmosphere was far too oppressive.

“It’s alright,” Diluc replied. “Will you bring me a glass to my quarters? The journey rendered my throat parched.”

“At once, Master Diluc,” you murmured. You felt two pairs of eyes on your back as you ambled towards the kitchen, leaving them both to share the cumbersome air.

While pouring him a glass did it only strike you: Diluc was back. After so many months of traveling overseas, he was here. Finally. The thought captured your heart with excitement. Excitement that you reined in, lest you risk having Kaeya’s cum trailing down your thighs.

“No…” you began to sob in embarrassment at the feel of his load teasing your hole. He had come too much for your little cunt to handle.

Inhaling, you made haste toward Diluc’s chamber. Kaeya was nowhere in the living room when you knocked on the young master’s door.

“Come in,” echoed his voice from the other side.

Diluc was occupied in sliding out of his coat, giving you a charming view of his back and shoulders flexing at his movement.

You gulped and spoke before you could empty the glass yourself, “Master Diluc, here’s the water you—”

“Kaeya fucked you, didn’t he?” he intervened, flawlessly pulling his hair tie to free his hair from the bind.

Bind that you instead felt around your chest at his question. Now, you knew very well the hostility between Diluc and Kaeya. The young master had been harboring animosity for the latter ever since that night when you witnessed them fight to the death. Or at least, that was what Diluc allowed anyone to believe.

You wished not to create a further rift between the two. And lying was the only right choice.

Shaking your head in denial, you replied, “N… no. Kaeya asked me to bring him something to eat. That’s the sole reason I was with him.”

Diluc proceeded to discard his upper clothes, together with the straps around his chest. He swiveled to face you, saying too much by not saying anything at all.

“Sit down.” He motioned at the edge of his bed with a light tilt of his chin.

After placing the glass on his bedside table, you rubbed your palms together and sat, wincing inwardly at the magnified dampness between your legs.

“Let me see it.” Diluc lilt was low and smoky. When you looked up at him, confused and lost, he took your chin. “Your cunt, let me see it.”

“Master Diluc… I…” You searched for words but found none.

Diluc cambered his head to the side, waiting for the dissent that never came. His eyes darkened when you lifted your skirt. Gasping when the young master parted your legs with his knee, leaned in, and pushed a finger inside. He clicked his tongue but said nothing.

“You’ve been very bad while I was away, have you not?” He unbuckled his pants, freeing his already proud and standing cock. The whiff of all man and desire filled your nose. Scent that he had consumed you with when he guided his shaft to your cheek. “I’m, without a doubt, upset by this display of indecent behavior. What do we do, I wonder?”

“I… I couldn’t say no, Master Diluc. It was Kaeya… and I figured… the young master wouldn’t have minded if—”

Diluc pushed his tip against your lips. “Hm, what do we do with a lying mouth? I think it needs to open up.”

Your eyelids lowered as you widen your mouth, tasting the salty pre-ejaculate smeared across his cocktip.

Diluc sighed, undeniably satisfied as he shoved his length down your throat while your pussy gushed out Kaeya’s fresh and hot cum with each twitch of your hole. He took both of your hands and place them on his hips, locking them with his big ones before thrusting.

Reveling in his virility, you shut your eyes and let him fuck your mouth at a pace he was comfortable. Swirling your tongue, swathing his whole girth with saliva, sighing as Diluc’s scent filled all your senses.

You’d remember the days where you’d kneel, hiding behind his desk while you suck him off, relieving a bit of his stress brought about by work.

He once said that your mouth would’ve been unrivaled if your pussy did not exist. Pussy that he’d think about whenever he was away. Pussy that occupied his imagination while lying on a creaky bed somewhere in a nameless inn. Pussy that he never once forget to convey his deep adoration to in his letters only made for you.

Diluc pulled out when your drool pooled under your chin. “Lay on your stomach in bed,” he whispered. You did as you were told without raising any fuss, heart pulsing in your ears when Diluc crawled behind you. “Higher,” he curtly commanded, spreading the meaty cheeks of your butt to get a better look at your hypnotizing cunt.

Curving your lower body up to give him access, Diluc gritted as he lined himself up to your hole, wiping the slit up and down with his tip a couple of times before shoving his length inside.

You cried in pleasure, insides trembling at the sheer girth rammed inside your already fucked out cunt. There was something different in Diluc’s cock that clouds your mind with nothingness. A tight fit, but a perfect one nonetheless.

He echoed a moan before pushing his fists on both sides of your body, poised to give you a merciless pounding. The bed squeaked together with you when he moved— all trained muscles and vigor, pummeling through your cunt hole hard.

Your brain turned into mush instantly, sight spinning. And you were nothing but a bubble of mess, blabbering how you missed him fucking you like that. Because you did miss this Diluc: the one who fucks hard and without inhibitions.

The Diluc who’d put you in a headlock while deliriously confessing his unfiltered thoughts of you. The one who’d say, “I’ll fuck you so hard you’ll be pregnant once I’m done with you. That way, Kaeya would fuck off, at last.”

Such raw confession unfit for the gentleman persona he cultivated as a façade. Such words had you brimming with tears because no one would ever experience being fucked like that by Diluc but you. So you’d answer him, laying all your feelings, “Make me pregnant, Diluc, please!”

“Ask for it,” he’d teased.

“Give me your cum,” you’d respond.

Four words that would drive him to insanity. Until all his words had turned to curses or helpless cries— as if he was wounded, as if he was gutted— while fucking his leaking cock and his cum back to your cunt. Again and again and again.

And it wouldn’t be enough, because Diluc had to taste you. He had to lick your cunt up, lapping and sucking on it, tasting himself in the process. Never had it bothered him. How could it? When you tremble and twitch as he sucks on your pussy lips, screaming his name and begging him for more until you are gushing on his tongue, mind breaking from the overstimulation.

The after sex, where you lie in his bed with him striving to clean you up before tucking you in, would be the best part. Diluc found nothing more beautiful than your face when you sleep peacefully beside him. It was a sight he always looks forward to seeing whenever it was time to come home. Because after his father’s death, Dawn Winery only felt like home if you were in it.

—

“You’re still here?” was the question raised by Diluc over breakfast when Kaeya descended from his room to eat.

The latter merely flapped his hand to the air. “I’m staying over for a few days just to unwind. Surely, you don’t mind?” asked he, eyes veering off in your direction while you poured Diluc a glass of grape juice.

Diluc did not look up from the stacks of letters placed beside his plate. “The Windblume Festival is fast approaching. Who overlooks the preparation, then?”

The air was stifling, and it didn’t help that you were still in the remnants of last night’s occurrences to function properly. You couldn’t even look at them both, not even when you poured Kaeya his glass of water.

“The Acting Grand Maester and the Sisters, who else?” he retorted before muttering a silent thank you to you, ascertaining that he had raked your body from head to toe.

“And as Cavalry Captain, your presence is not needed.” Diluc’s tone was taunting, laced with an edge of curiosity.

“Diluc, such bitterness is not to be shown over breakfast. I have finished my work before traveling here. Now, am I allowed to stay?” Kaeya repeated.

His intonation had you exchanging glances with Adelinde. It had been a while since Kaeya returned home. All of you were testing the waters and the day hadn’t fully yet begun.

“Suit yourself,” was Diluc’s reply before taking a sip from his glass.

The conversation ended as well as the brief breakfast.

At luncheon, when it was time to summon Kaeya, you found him reading a book on his desk inside his chamber. Nothing changed in its interior, but his closet had been emptied. You’d still clean and dust the shelves now and then for when he decided to visit. Every night, you’d come looking at your window, waiting for him to knock. After all these years, you believed that everyone had given up on waiting. But not you, never you.

“Kaeya, I missed seeing you around here.” Your cheeks burned at once when you heard yourself blurt out. It was full of longing.

If he was surprised, he didn’t show it. He wore his signature smile, one that would always conceal his true emotions. “Lucky you, I’m here to stay until the Festival, at least.”

“May I… may I know why?” you inquired, full of hopes that one day, he would never have to leave again.

Neglecting the book in his hand, he held his chin. “Hm, let’s see. I guess I’m on a mission.”

“On a mission? What mission that may be?”

“To get you full and pregnant before Diluc could.”

#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #diluc smut #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc ragnvindr smut #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #kaeya smut #kaeya x reader #kaeya x you #kaeya alberich smut #kaeya alberich x reader #kaeya alberich x you

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solar-wing · 2 months

Text

⚣ 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."

"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 | ☀️

181 notes · View notes

piratekane · 11 months

Text

(rated m for mature)

Ava’s room is the last sacred space in their apartment. A room that belongs to Ava, and Ava only. The living room is shared space, of course. Their breakfast bar holds both of their tea mugs: Ava’s in the shape of a bulldog holding a bone, her own a dark gray and white plaid pattern. The bathroom has a small stand with both of their toothbrushes and two face cloths on small hooks, one on each side of the sink. The face of the kitchen refrigerator is littered with pictures and ticket stubs and small post-it-note drawings they’ve both accumulated over the last few months.

We exist, Beatrice, Ava likes to tell her. If we died and someone came to pack us up, they would know we both existed here.

It’s a morbid thought, but it rotates in her mind for days afterwards. They exist. They exist together, in this shared space. There’s two of everything - a testament to a life shared between two people who found comfort in each other. Who found a home. Their shoes are by the front door, their bills are on the counter, their sweaters tangle into knots on the couch where they dare cross the line Beatrice has drawn between them.

Ava’s room is a line. She doesn’t cross it. She lets their shared existence fill every corner of the apartment except for Ava’s bedroom. She’s never crossed the threshold. Even on the day Ava moved in, she dutifully passed her boxes from the living room, marveling at the idea that one person who existed in a single dorm room for a handful of months could accumulate so many things.

She’s not sure that Ava even noticed. If she did, she didn’t say anything about it. Because she’s kind and takes Beatrice’s actions into consideration with the sort of care no one else in her life has ever shown.

But that’s par for the course. Ava is unlike anyone else in her life.

It’s why Beatrice is so careful. She’s gotten used to having this unusual, perfect thing in her life. She’s gripping it tightly with two hands, firm enough to keep it in one place but soft enough that it doesn’t break. It took her years to learn that grip and only a month with Ava to master it in a whole new way.

She should know by now, after seven months, that being careful around Ava is never careful enough.

“Blue or green?” she hears Ava call from inside her room.

Beatrice sighs, resting her pencil tip against the page she’s taking notes on. “Ava.”

Ava’s head pops around the doorframe. She’s smiling in a way a younger Beatrice would have called dashing or roguish. It’s charming. Infuriatingly so. Ava knows it—has never forgotten it since the time Camila said it out loud one night when Ava convinced them to try roller skating at some wooden rink nearby. That smile is a weapon, a carefully drawn bow whose range Beatrice can never escape from.

“Blue or green?” she repeats.

“I’m afraid I need a bit of context, Ava.”

Beatrice resists the urge to rub tiredly at the space between her eyes. Finals week is upon them. She’s prepared - has been preparing all semester - but then her Early Christian Women’s professor gave her some last minute feedback to restructure her entire research paper. It’s left her molded to the stool at the breakfast bar for the last three days, the entire top of it covered in color-coded index cards and texts she’s expressly forbid Ava from going anywhere near.

Ava pinky promised that she would listen. Beatrice would have accepted a confident “okay,” but Ava had taken it a step further, tightening her grip on Beatrice’s pinky and pulling her whole hand up to her mouth as Ava kissed her own fist, eyes on Beatrice the whole time.

“There. Now it’s really a promise.”

Beatrice thinks maybe she didn’t have enough friends growing up. Or that she didn’t have enough friends like Ava growing up. Because she’d never heard of this particular kind of promise. Shannon had made a face when Beatrice asked her about it. No, I’m not making fun of you, Shannon assured her. I just mean… Bea. Come on.

Beatrice does not come on, but the next time Ava makes her promise she won’t throw all her sources out the window and develop a list of new ones, she quickly presses her lips to the outside of her own hand, eyes darting to Ava’s face. Just as a test. Just to see if she’s doing this right.

She must have. Ava beamed for hours.

“Blue paint or green paint?” Ava expands.

“For what?”

Ava extends her arm past the doorway into Beatrice’s view. A small bucket of paint, hardly larger than a box of baking soda, dangles from her fingers.

She holds back the long-suffering sigh building in her chest. “Ava.”

“I’m painting my room.”

“You’re-” Beatrice turns, notecard on Thecla abandoned. “You’re painting your room?”

Ava frowns at her like she’s the one who just announced that she’s completing a home makeover project. “I told you this.”

“You didn’t.”

“I did.” Ava’s arm drops to her side, and she leans a little further around the doorway.

Beatrice shakes her head. “You most certainly did not. Because I would have remembered that.”

“You can’t remember everything I say.”

I do. The thought nearly makes its way to Beatrice’s tongue, but she bites it back. She certainly can’t admit that, though she thinks Ava would, if she was in her position. Ava has always been more free in her words, in her certainty.

“I would have remembered this,” she repeats.

Ava shakes her head. “I definitely told you I was doing this. I asked if you wanted to go pick out-”

Her forehead wrinkles into a frown that Beatrice immediately wants to smooth away. She can feel Ava’s skin under her fingertips, warm and soft. She blinks.

“Huh. Maybe I mentioned it to Mary, now that I think about it.” Her face brightens without Beatrice’s help. “I guess I’m telling you now.”

“You can’t- You can’t paint your room.”

Ava nods like she understands. “I can’t paint it alone, no. I’ll need help. Oh! A paint party!”

“No, I mean-” Beatrice takes a deep breath. “We would lose our security deposit if you paint the walls. It’s in our rental agreement.”

That doesn’t seem to bother Ava. “We can just paint it back when we move out. Or if we never do, then no one will ever know.”

If we never do. The words are like a lightning bolt in her chest. If we never do implies that Ava has thought about living with her indefinitely. That Ava has considered the possibility of a future where they're still in each other’s lives, where they’re still living in this same apartment doing the same things together. Movie nights and take out and reading while Ava watches something on TV, and talking about the few hours they spent apart and deciding where to take weekend trips and what new household decoration Ava is going to talk her into.

Their life in shared spaces, for everyone who visits to see.

Forever roommates.

The thought is too overwhelming for her to breathe properly.

“So, will you help me pick a color?” Ava continues on as if Beatrice isn’t slowly burning from the inside out. “I’m thinking green. Blue seems more like your color. Hey! We can paint your room next.”

Beatrice shakes her head. “Ava, no.”

Ava either doesn’t hear her, or pays her no mind. “I got this cool mint color. It looks like mint chocolate chip ice cream!”

“Mint,” she repeats, voice strangled.

Ava beams. “It looks like our toothpaste.”

Dread washes over her, as cold as ice cream out of the freezer against her tongue. Their toothpaste is a frightfully minty green color that always catches Beatrice off guard no matter how many times a day she’s brushed her teeth, even after the ;five months since Ava started buying it. It’s a sickly green, almost. Certainly not something that should be on a wall, let alone four of them. Ava’s room would glow, practically radioactive.

“No,” she insists. “Not that color.”

“Come see it. Then you’ll understand.”

She moves without meaning to, without giving much thought to it. Ava calls like a siren, and she swims out to meet her. She gets as far as the couch before the water comes up to her chin and she stops again.

“I don’t think you should paint your room.”

Ava waves away her concern. “It’ll be fine. The whole room is just so… white. We need a little color in our lives, Bea. A little bit of… spice.”

“A little bit of spice.”

“You know. Excitement.” Ava is firmly in the doorway now, paint can hanging at her side. “We can’t live with white walls forever.”

Why not? she wants to ask. She grew up with white walls. Pristine ones. Washed down every week by their housekeeper. Sanitized. She pauses. Ava might have a point.

But their landlord would not approve of it. And Beatrice intends to stick by the rules. She opens her mouth to say so, but Ava cuts her off.

“Come here. Just have a look.” She pads forward on bare feet and curls her fingers around Beatrice’s wrist, tugging her forward gently enough that Beatrice could step back, break their connection if she needed to.

She doesn’t. Not yet.

But she gets closer and closer to Ava’s doorway, to the raised threshold that separates her from this last sacred space. Ava is stepping back over it, eyes on Beatrice, and then her toes are bumping against it and she stops. Their arms stretch between them for a moment before Ava catches up and steps forward so they hang loosely again.

Ava waits for her. Always waiting for her. It’s not fair, she thinks. It’s not fair that she’s always waiting for me.

“So, I have something to admit,” Ava says slowly, pulling her out of her head. She’s smiling sheepishly, her head ducked a little as she searches Beatrice’s face. “I might have already painted a few swatches on the wall.”

“Ava.”

“Just a few,” she rushes on. “Small ones. Like, the size of a book. A small one! I’m sorry, I just wanted to see what they looked like.” She strokes her thumb over Beatrice’s wrist. “The mint kind of looks horrible,” she admits.

Beatrice fights that never-ending sigh again. “Of course it does.”

“But the other green looks good! It’s kind of turquoise-y, actually.” Ava’s forehead wrinkles into a frown that lingers for just a second. “Greener than a normal turquoise, though. Almost like the sea. Like - okay, just look.”

Ava’s hand falls away, and she takes a step back into her room. She’s looking at the wall, eyes moving quickly over what Beatrice assumes is the paint swatches she’s done there.

She eases her weight onto the ball of her foot. The floorboard creaks under it. Ava is still looking at the wall, still studying her choices. Beatrice feels a ripple of fear race through her. It’s just a room. Their apartment is made up of rooms. But it’s Ava’s room. Opening this door, crossing this line - she’s not sure she can come back from that.

Ava meets her eyes again and tips her head in that effortlessly endearing way, a soft smile on her face that immediately ebbs the fear away. Ava crooks a finger in her direction, beckoning her forward. It’s like a piece of string loops its way around Beatrice’s wrist and it pulls.

“You’re going to like the turquoise,” Ava says just quietly enough for Beatrice to hear. Another siren’s call.

She’s a strong swimmer. She can survive this. Her toes brush the raised threshold, and then they’re curled over the other side of it as her shoulders breach the doorway. The air shifts. She feels a little lightheaded. The lights seem dimmed, lowered. She holds her breath and waits for God to strike her down, and when nothing happens, she silently exhales a thin stream of air.

She doesn’t go further than that. Her body doesn’t seem to want to move past the invisible line that goes from the ceiling down directly to the floor. Her eyes immediately go to the wall Ava was looking at.

She was correct. The mint looks horrible.

“I know,” Ava says, reading her mind. “It looked a lot better at the store. Maybe it’s the light?”

It takes Beatrice a minute to reply, almost as if the words were a trade for tipping forward into Ava’s room. “I don’t think different lighting is going to help this.”

Ava studies it for another moment before she nods decisively. “You’re right. But what about this green-turquoise?” She moves and touches her finger to the wall. It comes back with a sticky greenish color. She frowns at it. “Huh. Thought it’d dry.”

“I like it,” Beatrice allows. “But Ava-”

“I promise we’ll paint it back. I just…” Ava stops, running a hand through her hair. She leaves behind a smudge of turquoise on her forehead, disappearing into her hair. “It’ll be easy to paint back. Please, Bea?” She clasps her hand in front of her, holding them to her chest. “Pleeeease?”

They both realize she’s going to give in at the same moment. Beatrice didn’t think she had any tells, has always prided herself on being someone fully in control of their actions, emotions, and facial expressions. Lessons learned from her parents that she actually appreciated. Expressive got you in trouble, gave too much away. She spent years tightening up to prevent anyone from knowing too much.

Ava does not carry the same burden. And Ava, it appears, has learned to recognize when Beatrice is on the cusp of expressing too much, of giving in. Maybe she’s giving it away in the quick pull of the corner of her mouth. Maybe there’s something in her eyes, a flicker of acceptance. Maybe she clenches her hand into a fist, a small flex of her muscles. Maybe she shifts her weight. Maybe she blinks too many times.

Whatever it is, Ava sees it in her. And she grins, the light in the room becoming impossibly brighter.

“I want nothing to do with this,” is what she decides to say.

Ava claps her hands together. “You won’t regret this.”

“I’m sure I will.”

It doesn’t dim Ava’s smile. “When I’m done, you’ll see how much it brings this place to life. And then we talk about your room. And the living room! Oh, and wouldn’t the kitchen look so great if we painted it some kind of blue? I saw a swatch at the store that looked exactly like the water in the Blue Grotto. I want to go there one day. I always thought it would look-”

Beatrice steps back. Something that was fizzling inside of her fades, though she didn’t know it was there until she felt its absence. Ava is still going on – the bathroom would look good in pink. With black and white tiles on the floor – but Beatrice feels a sense of calm come over her, and she takes her first deep breath since she crossed the threshold.

Ava stops. “I’m getting ahead of myself,” she says sheepishly.

“It’s okay.” And it is. Beatrice doesn’t mind getting swept up in Ava’s elaborate plans. “But I’m going to go back to my homework.”

Ava flashes her a thumbs up. Her finger is still stained turquoise. “Okay. But you’re not studying for too long. We can’t have a repeat of this weekend.”

Beatrice feels her face flush. “I swore I went to bed.”

“You did. Standing in front of the refrigerator. I thought you were going to fall over.”

“I’m very disciplined.”

Ava grins. “Well, put a cap on studying tonight. When I’m done with the first coat, we’re going to get something to eat.”

She pretends to be annoyed by this, just because she likes the way Ava narrows her eyes playfully and shakes a finger at her. She’s not disappointed when Ava does exactly that before turning back to the stool she stole from the kitchen where she’s stacked two small paint cans, one open and one closed, and a paint roller.

Crossing the room back towards her homework is easier than going the distance from it to Ava’s room. She feels lighter with each step. She sits back down, her intention to focus on this paper she’s supposed to submit in two days (but feels nowhere near completion). Work, then break. As long as she works for the next hour, at least, then she can offer to buy Ava Indian food and ask her to watch a documentary about a filmmaker befriending an octopus. Cedrick, in her Study of Film elective, had suggested it to her. She doesn’t think it’ll be hard; Ava has said more than once that she thinks octopi are cute.

But as thoughts of Ava and octopi float in her head, some of the words Ava just mentioned start to register in Beatrice’ brain. Ava never mentioned the Blue Grotto before. They’re inching closer to the end of the school year and she doesn’t know Ava’s plans yet. Does she want to go backpacking across Europe? Alone? Will Beatrice have to haunt the corners of the apartment waiting for her to come back? Will Ava be different when she comes back? Will she forget about Beatrice?

Will she find a new forever-roommate in another city and leave Beatrice on her own?

Her homework is suddenly the furthest thing from her mind. She can’t focus on Eve or Thecla or their impact on the religious narrative. She can only think about the possibility of spending the summer alone - Mary and Shannon are going on a graduation trip across Spain, and Camila secured a summer internship with a tech startup company, and even Lilith found a program that allows her to travel for the few months before the start of the fall semester.

Beatrice’s big plan is to work at the campus library, splitting her time between shelving books, starting her graduation capstone project, and Ava. The practical side of her knows she should try to make that time an even three-way split, but the more she thinks about the coming months, the more adventures she keeps coming up with in her head. Things she wants to do and try with Ava, because she knows it’s on Ava’s list. They could visit the Prado Museum. Take a long weekend and travel to some seaside town where Ava could practice swimming in the waves. They could find new restaurants and new hiking trails. She’d even let Ava convince her to try roller skating. Again.

Beatrice hasn’t told her yet, but she has the whole summer mapped out. And Ava is embedded into every bullet point of that. It just hadn’t occurred to her that Ava might have her own plans. Ones that didn’t include Beatrice.

“Ow!”

Beatrice’s head snaps up. The sudden noise is followed by a heavy thud, thud and a rattle as something hits the floor. She’s up and moving before she has time to second guess herself, crossing the apartment in long strides until she’s reaching Ava’s room.

She crosses the threshold in a breath, suddenly plunged into the smell of paint and the sight of the bright lights Ava has rigged up in the center of the room. It nearly blinds her and she quickly looks at the ground.

Ava is lying on the thick, plush navy rug at the bottom of the bed, body curled in on itself as she clutches her foot. A small unopened can of paint is rolling slowly away from her towards the corner of the room. Ava groans loudly and turns her face into the rug as her whole body expands with a breath.

Beatrice drops to her knees, ignoring the dull ache that rockets up her thighs into her hips. She grabs Ava’s shoulders, turning her onto her back as her eyes scan Ava’s face for any blood or bruises. Her hands follow the same path, tucking Ava’s hair behind her ear and trailing her thumbs across the flat of Ava’s cheeks.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

Ava’s eyes flutter closed, and Beatrice immediately becomes concerned about a concussion. Her fingers slide to the base of Ava’s head, and she applies a little pressure to tip it back. Ava’s still blinking up at her but as the light reflects against the honeyed color of her irises her pupils shrink. Beatrice heaves a relieved sigh. No concussion.

“Bea,” Ava groans again. She turns her face into Beatrice’s palm. “I think I broke it.”

Beatrice’s hands fall from Ava’s face and skim down her shoulders to her elbows, cupping them gently. “Let me see,” she says softly.

Ava shakes her head. “Just leave me behind.”

A rush of fondness ripples through her. She presses her fingertips into Ava’s bare arms, the sleeves of her This may be cheesy but I feel grate t-shirt brushing against the backs of Beatrice’s knuckles. “Ava,” she urges.

“No, it’s too horrible.” Ava’s grip tightens on her foot and she immediately winces.

Beatrice slides her hands down to Ava’s slowly. She curls her fingers into the spaces between Ava’s and her foot, pushing them back until she has enough room to free Ava’s foot from its self-imposed prison. There’s a bruise already forming at the base of her toes on the top of her foot, blooming across the first three toes. She ghosts her thumb across it and Ava flinches slightly.

Beatrice’s lips purse into a frown. “I’m sorry.”

“S’okay.” Ava rolls completely onto her back, staring up at Beatrice. She’s still blinking rapidly and Beatrice is worried about a delayed concussion now.

“I think you’ve bruised it.” She presses down, gentler this time. Ava draws in a breath but doesn’t flinch away. “I don’t think anything is broken.”

Her hand drifts higher, curling around Ava’s ankle bone. It’s delicate under her fingers, the point rounded. Her other hand, still resting on Ava’s foot, goes to her other shin. There’s nothing but an expanse of smooth and warm skin under her palm.

“Good,” Ava says faintly. Her eyes go to Beatrice’s hand, lingering.

Beatrice’s eyes follow. Oh. She quickly pulls her hands away, cheeks suddenly hot.

“I didn’t mean to-”

“You don’t have to-”

They both pause, staring at each other. The air feels electric, goosebumps running up Beatrice’s arms. Her chest feels tight with unspoken words. She looks away first.

Ava’s hand on her own pulls her eyes back around. She looks at Beatrice for a long moment before she smiles a little. There’s something on her face that Beatrice can’t read, but it settles the rising tide of fear in her chest and she feels it ebb away into nothingness.

It’s not unusual, the sense of calm that comes with a simple look from Ava. It’s a peace that feels second nature now. It’s odd how seven months with Ava has untied almost all the knots her life created. Seven months isn’t very long - a blip on the radar, really. She’s had the same study group for longer than that. But these seven months have felt so monumental that it seems to have lasted years.

But Ava is monumental, so really, it does make sense.

Still. Her hands got ahead of her head. She touched before she thought, and now she’s kneeling on Ava’s floor with her hands hovering between their bodies, and Ava’s eyes are even more honey-colored than usual. The lights reflecting off the white walls makes her feel like she’s under a spotlight on a stage where everyone can see her, here in Ava’s room.

In Ava’s room, across the threshold. Completely across it.

A line she hasn’t crossed, a step she hasn’t taken. The room rushes in on her suddenly. She’s hyper aware of the faint chemical smell of paint, the too-bright lights, the rough fibers of the rug against her bare ankles, the way Ava’s laundry seems to be crawling out of the basket in the corner.

“I’m-”

“Don’t apologize.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Bea.”

“I’ll just-”

“Beatrice.”

Beatrice blinks. Ava’s hand has turned over in hers, her palm up. “Yes?”

“Help me up?”

Beatrice blinks again. “Oh. Yes.” She shifts back onto her heels and grabs Ava’s wrist, fingers spread to distribute her grasp so she doesn’t pull Ava’s wrist off her arm, and gently leads her forward. She wobbles as she rises, leaning into Beatrice for support, and Beatrice quickly winds an arm around her waist to steady her as she stands. They’re so close that Beatrice can feel the way Ava is breathing, the push of her ribs against Beatrice’s hand. She helps her to the bed carefully, cautious of the paint around them, and sits her down gently.

There’s more turquoise paint along her forehead, and dried paint on her fingers, and Beatrice wants to find a clean washcloth, wet it, and gently wash it away. She does the next best thing.

She picks up a rag next to the small container of water Ava must be using to clean the brushes and dips the corner into it, wetting it. She hands it to Ava and waits as she rubs furiously at her finger, washing the paint away.

“What happened?”

Ava sighs, eyes narrowing as she looks at the unopened paint can on the ground. It’s rolled across her room away from them. Luckily, the open can remains in place on the stool, the paintbrush hanging precariously on the edge of it.

“I went to reach for the paintbrush and knocked it off. Freaking thing landed on my foot. Obviously.”

Beatrice’s free hand goes to Ava’s foot. Her thumb sweeps across the bruise. Ava’s fingers flex against the back of Beatrice’s forearms. “You are lucky it didn’t break anything.”

Ava shudders. “Manuel, one of the guys on my floor when I lived in the dorms, he broke his foot the first month in. He had to wear a big walking boot for weeks. It was so ugly.”

“It would hardly go with your outfits,” Beatrice agrees.

“How would I even get my jeans on?” Ava frowns thoughtfully. “I’d have to walk around in my underwear all day.”

Beatrice nearly chokes on a cough, but she swallows it back down, uncomfortable in her throat. “I think… I think you could remove it to put your clothes on,” she says, her voice too light to be her own.

Ava’s face flushes unusually. “Oh, right. Of course.” She starts to smile wickedly. “Don’t want me walking around in my underwear, of course.”

Beatrice doesn’t quite hide her blush like she hid her cough. Because she has envisioned Ava walking around in her underwear before, just with one of Beatrice’s big sweaters dusting her thighs and coming down over her hands. She quickly blinks, turning the image to black in her mind. It was a passing thought, just once. She never had it again. It was unfair to Ava to even begin to form that picture in her mind. It flashes in her head like a bang now and she tightens her grip on Ava’s wrist, suddenly aware she’s still holding on.

She goes for a strangled joke. “It would prevent Lilith from coming over.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Ava latches onto it. Her eyes light up. “Consider it done.”

Beatrice immediately concerns herself with something else. Ava’s foot.

“Let me get you some ice,” she says. Her voice doesn’t waver this time. Shannon, if she knew about this, would be proud. She’d praise Beatrice’s restraint, call it admirable.

Shannon would also probably tell her that she should do something that would completely change the trajectory of her friendship with Ava. So maybe the Shannon in her mind should be a little quieter.

“I don’t think I need ice.”

Beatrice looks down at the bruise, darker now, and then gives Ava a pointed look. It has the desired effect. Ava’s cheeks pinken and she smiles sheepishly. Beatrice nods, assured in her success, and carefully extracts her hands from Ava’s foot, standing.

“I’ll be right back,” she promises. “Don’t forget the paint on your forehead”

Ava carefully taps her foot, higher than the bruise. “Not going anywhere.”

Beatrice could argue that Ava could go somewhere. It’s not broken. It’s uncomfortable, of course. She once flexed her foot at the wrong moment and kicked a pine board toes-first. The bruise remained for weeks and the slight limp from accommodating the pain had lasted a little longer than that.

But Ava wipes her forehead carelessly and falls back onto her bed, hands hanging over each side of the bed in a T-shape as her legs dangle off the end. Her shirt rides up her flat stomach revealing a sliver of skin Beatrice wants to run her fingernail over. Ava’s eyes are closed, head tipped back just enough for her chin to lift up, exposing the long unbroken line of her neck.

Beatrice looks away before another thought rushes unbidden into her mind. Her cheeks burn.

“I’ll be right back,” she repeats, unnecessarily. Ava hums on the bed.

She doesn’t linger, striding out of the room and across the apartment. She opens the freezer, welcoming the blast of cold air against her face. She takes a moment, almost forgetting why she’s standing there. But Ava calls her name from the bedroom, and Beatrice remembers quickly. The ice maker hasn’t worked in a few weeks - she makes a mental note to have Mary look at it before she calls her landlord - but Ava only found that as an excuse to buy increasingly ridiculous ice cube trays.

It takes her a minute to decide between ice cube shapes. Ava went a little crazy online, buying shark fin-shaped ones, brain-shaped ones, ones shaped like ice monsters and another set shaped like centipedes. Beatrice decides on ones shaped like rubber ducks, twisting the silicone tray so they pop out. She wraps them in a cloth quickly so her hands don’t get too cold.

Crossing the room feels like a walk she’s made a hundred times before. She knows in her mind that it’s only been twice but now that she’s opened the flood gate, her feet move her without thought. Past the books and notes she’s abandoned, the armchair, the couch. She pauses just before Ava’s bedroom, toes against the threshold.

She crosses it as easily as she exhales.

Ava is still laying on her back, an approximation of a cross as she rests with her eyes closed. Beatrice watches her chest rise and fall as she breathes in and out evenly. There’s a beauty in simplicity, she’s always thought so. Ava only strengthens that.

“Ice,” she says quietly, unsure of why she doesn’t want to say anything at all. She doesn’t want to break this moment, startle Ava and ruin the weightlessness of it.

Ava cracks one eye open, a half-smile on her face. “You’re back.”

Beatrice holds out the ice. Ava crooks a finger at her, beckoning her closer. She hesitates. Ava pushes up, resting on her elbows now.

“I think we’ve established that I don’t bite.” That smile turns wicked again. “Unless you ask nicely.”

Her fingers clench around the ice, and she feels the cold bite at her skin. But she stays still, not giving anything else away.

Ava sits up, foot dangling over the end of the bed. She rests her palms flat against the comforter before she pushes up and stands. She puts her weight down on her foot and her leg buckles almost instantly.

Beatrice doesn’t think, arms looping tightly around Ava’s waist and pulling up her. Her fingers slide into the dips of Ava’s back, the ice trapped between one of her palms and Ava’s skin. Her feet tangle with Ava’s. Their hips are nearly pressed together, almost no space between them. Ava exhales in a noisy rush, lips twisted in a grimace. Beatrice feels the hot air against her collarbone.

“Are you okay?”

Ava tilts her head back slightly. “Would you believe me if I said yes?”

Beatrice’s mouth flickers in a smile. “No.”

“Then we’ll just assume the answer.” Ava’s hands are wrapped tightly around her elbows and her fingers flex against the back of Beatrice’s arms. “Wow. Do you work out?”

“You know that I do.” She keeps her voice light.

Ava’s fingers dance further up her arms, under the hem of her sleeve. She squeezes again, gently. “Yeah, well knowing you do, seeing you do it, and feeling its effects are three very different things.”

Her fingers are maddening, burning hot against Beatrice’s skin. Ava rubs her thumb in a small circle over her bicep.

“Really, Bea. You could probably crush an egg with these things.”

She frowns. “Why would I want to crush an egg?”

“Well, it’d be a way to spice up breakfast.” She presses gently, dimpling the skin. “And a killer party trick.”

Beatrice fights a shiver despite the way her skin feels like it’s burning. “I don’t go to parties.”

But that’s a lie. She does when Ava invites her. She thinks of the party they went to, the spinning disco lights and the way Ava’s body pressed against hers in the hot swell of sweaty, drunken students. She thinks of Ava slumped over on their couch later, saying she’d wait for Beatrice.

That voice that sounds just like Shannon’s whispers that it means exactly what Beatrice hopes it means. She’s never been good at telling Shannon to stop, but this is easy enough to sweep under the mental rug so it remains unknown and unseen.

Truth unknown and unseen is still truth, Shannon has said before. I read that on Pintrest.

Beatrice shakes the memory from her mind and focuses on the facts in front of her: Ava. Ava, close enough to breathe in. Close enough that Beatrice could eliminate the mere inches between them and-

“I bet you’d go to more parties if you had a party trick,” Ava interrupts.

“I doubt it.” But Ava is grinning and Beatrice can’t help but smile back. “But I’m sure you could convince Mary to give it a try.”

“I mean, Mary has decent biceps, but I don’t think she could crack an egg.”

Beatrice shakes her head. “Why an egg? Why not, I don’t know. A walnut.”

“A walnut. These are good goals.” Ava squeezes Beatrice’s bicep once more to emphasize her words. “Let’s start with an egg and work our way to something more advanced.”

The flex of Ava’s fingers against her skin pulls her from her next thought. It’s not that she didn’t notice the lack of space between them, it’s just that it’s rushing in on her now. It’s dizzying, the way Ava is standing so close. Beatrice tries to breathe in, but her chest pushes out until it nearly brushes Ava’s and she’s sucking all the air back into her lungs just as quickly.

Ava notices, eyes dropping down past Beatrice’s chin and neck before they dart up again, crinkling at the corners. She takes a step back, dropping to the bed again, the ice in her hand. She pulls one leg up under her, chin resting on her knee as she puts the ice against her bruising foot.

Beatrice blinks, oddly cool air rushing in where Ava’s body had been despite the humid air of their apartment as the spring pushes towards the hot summer. “You’ll need to ice that for a bit.”

Ava nods, adjusting the ice for a moment before she looks up and says, “So, first time?”

Beatrice frowns. “Administering first aid?”

“First time being in here. Properly, I mean.” Ava looks around, throwing one arm wide. “What do you think?”

Beatrice takes stock of her situation. It’s technically her third time being in here, but Ava is right. She’s in here properly now. Not just over the threshold or charging through barriers because Ava’s been injured. She crossed the line intentionally this time. And she remains, the walls of Ava’s room coming at her from each side without boxing her in.

Ava’s laundry flows from the hamper. Her bed isn’t quite made, but isn’t quite a mess. There are books stacked on the desk in a way that tells Beatrice Ava hasn’t opened them in some time. Hobbes sits next to them. A series of pictures is on the wall opposite her desk, ones of her and Ava and the rest of their friends. Beatrice’s eyes catalog each inch, committing it to memory in a place where she knows she’s going to see it for a very long time.

“You’re missing the best part,” Ava says. Her voice is quiet, like she’s afraid to startle Beatrice. She waits until Beatrice looks before she points upward.

Beatrice’s eyes follow the imaginary thread from Ava’s fingertip to the ceiling. She nearly gasps.

White-green stars dot the ceiling, filling all the space. Spider web-thin lines connect some of them, forming constellations she recognizes from the pictures Ava has shown her and the ones Ava has pointed out on rare nights when she can convince Beatrice to go out to the quad and lay on the grass to watch the night pass by. Some of them she doesn’t and she focuses on those ones, studying their shapes and trying to decide what they look like.

“Apus.” Ava’s finger moves, tracing the lines she’s drawn between the glow-in-the-dark stars. “We call it the Bird of Paradise. Derived from the Greek word apous, which means ‘footless’. There’s a story that birds of paradise were once believed to have been footless.”

“I don’t believe I know what a bird of paradise looks like,” she admits.

“My mom loved them. She’d never seen one in person, but she liked looking at pictures of them. They have these large plumes. They look so soft.” Ava sighs wistfully. “There was a nun, in the orphanage when I was first there, that called me a bird of paradise.” She pauses, eyes darting to Beatrice. “Because I was footless, you know? She reminded me of my mom. She didn’t stay long, but she was nice.”

Beatrice’s heart clenches as it always does when Ava talks about her past. But this is a softer ache, a longing to thank this woman who showed Ava a sliver of mercy.

“And that’s Grus, the crane,” Ava continues. “Originally, it was part of another constellation, Piscis Austrinus. But a Dutch astronomer defined it as its own separate constellation. Its brightest star is Al Na’ir. It’s Arabic for ‘bright one’ which feels a little on the nose.”

Beatrice studies its shape, noting the bigger star that Ava must have defined as Al Na’ir. “Why do you like this one?”

Ava thinks for a moment. “Did you know that cranes have the ability to fly over the Himalayas? They can. They can go as high as 8,000 meters. Imagine being that high up, feeling the wind in your hair.” She blinks, looking off towards the wall littered with paint swatches. “I spent so long tied to one place that the idea of being able to fly over a mountain, to graze the tip of it with a set of wings, sounded like a fairytale.”

Beatrice slides her hand over Ava’s, fingertips resting in the dips between her knuckles. “I think we could hike the Himalayas one day, if you wanted to.”

Ava looks down at their hands and blinks before her eyes meet Beatrice’s. “You think so?”

“I think you could do anything you want to do.”

Ava doesn’t blink this time, doesn’t even look away. “If I can do anything I want to do, I want to…” She pauses, tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip.

Beatrice waits, but the rest of Ava’s sentence doesn’t come. She clears her throat. “What do you-”

“Did you see that one?” Ava asks, interrupting her and pointing up at the ceiling.

Beatrice blinks, startled at the intensity of Ava’s voice. She searches Ava’s face but it’s unreadable, a mix of something Beatrice can’t quite put a name to. So she looks up helplessly, searching for what Ava is pointing at.

“That’s Drago.”

“The dragon,” Beatrice translates. “What’s his story?”

Ava shrugs. “He’s just fucking cool.”

A sharp laugh slips out from between her lips and Ava grins widely back at her.

“So, you like it, then.” Ava looks around her room and nods to herself. “It’s a pretty great room, isn’t it?”

“It’s very… Ava,” Beatrice allows. She’s smiling though, hoping that her words don’t sting.

“Isn’t that all I can hope for?” Ava sighs and turns her hand over so her palm presses against Beatrice’s. “But can I ask another question?”

When she breathes out, “anything”, she means it.

Ava hesitates still. “You never come in here,” she says slowly. “Why not?”

Something tightens in her chest. Words rise in her throat and she swallows them back down, a reflex more than anything else. Ava must notice something pass over her face or feel the way that Beatrice’s hand jumps in hers, because strong and warm fingers stroke up her wrist as they lock around the bone, keeping her anchored to the moment.

“You don’t have to answer that,” Ava rushes on. “I’m just… curious, I guess.” She smiles crookedly. “Does it smell in here?”

Yes. Like something deep and woodsy and so uniquely Ava.

Ava’s nose wrinkles. “Does it? Because if it does, I-”

“It doesn’t.” Beatrice’s voice is too loud. “It doesn’t,” she says, softer now.

Ava’s frown doesn’t smooth out. “Then… why?”

It’s not you, it’s me, her mind supplies. She doesn’t say that. She thinks about how to put it into words, how to unpack all the things she tidied away and put in a cedar chest, locking it tight. Nothing comes from it, just an empty explanation that won’t make sense if she says it out loud.

But Ava is her best friend. And if it doesn’t make sense, if the words don’t come out right, she’ll wait patiently for Beatrice to try again. She’ll sit here, one leg tucked up as ice melts through a washcloth and she’ll wait for Beatrice to find the right words.

I’d wait for you forever, Ava had said, lips loose with party punch. And Beatrice believed her.

Ava makes her brave. Brave enough not to make an offhand joke and turn the conversation back on the open can of paint and the paintbrush quickly drying out.

Instead, she clears her throat and straightens up, the first thing she does when an image of her parents enters her mind. And Ava doesn’t let go of her wrist, moving with her instead, ebbing and flowing with her seamlessly. Beatrice turns to face Ava, watching Ava mirror her, and she exhales out the tension building in her muscles.

“Bea, if you don’t want to-”

“I do.”

She does. Holding onto these things makes her feel heavy. And almost more than anything - but not more than wanting Ava - she wants to be lighter.

Ava shakes her head. “I’m serious.”

Beatrice grips Ava’s other hand, their arms tangled around each other. “I… I have to.”

“Okay,” Ava says softly. Her smile is the same. “Whatever you want to tell me, I want to hear.”

Ava isn’t always sledgehammer, she realizes. She thinks of her as a hammer, crashing into everything and leaving a wake of needed destruction in her wake. But Ava is also a set of picks, quietly and discreetly slipping into the lock around her. For all the stomping around she does, all the things she knocks over in her haste to get from one moment to the next, she’s also deft, hands built with finesse.

Beatrice tries to find the start. Was it Penelope Marshall? Was it the start of boarding school? Was it her parents finding her journal when she was thirteen? Was it all the time she spent with the diplomat’s daughter? Was it her fifth birthday when she cried because her parents bought her the dress with the pink frills instead of the bicycle she wanted?

“My parents…”

“I hate them.”

She doesn’t chide Ava for saying so. A deep, angry part of her hates her parents too. She smiles humorlessly. “They sent me to boarding school, as you know. When I was thirteen. Right at Christmas time. I remember it because it was my present that year. An ‘opportunity to further my education in an environment that would foster appropriate and lifelong lessons’,” she quotes. She can remember the brochure she’d been given unceremoniously, a smiling girl on the front. Even in print, Beatrice could see the hollow light in her eyes.

“Appropriate,” Ava scoffs. “Like anything they did was appropriate.”

Beatrice feels Ava’s pulse thunder under her fingers. “They said it would give me a framework for my life. Lucille Thomason had graduated from there a year before and she was going to Oxford, on her way to inheriting her mother’s social calendar. My mother always fawned over her at dinners. ‘Lucille is following the plans her mother set out for her. Lucille has accomplished so much at such a young age.’”

“Lucille sounds like a loser.”

“Lucille sounded exactly like the daughter my mother wanted.”

Ava frowns softly. “You know that you’re leagues above whoever Lucille is.”

“I didn’t think so,” she admits. “Lucille was someone to admire. Her achievements were something to strive for. She had something I so desperately wanted when I was younger: my mother’s approval. And so, when they presented the option-” She stops herself. “It wasn’t an option. But when they presented their plan, I reconciled myself with it by reminding myself that Lucille was leading a very successful life.”

“There’s more to life than success,” Ava says gently.

Beatrice smiles a little. “To you. To me. But to my parents, there is nothing more.” She takes a deep breath. “And if they were framing it as me taking an opportunity to lead a successful life, then they would forget about… the things they were discovering about me.”

Ava immediately tenses. The Beatrice she is now knows it for what it is: an attempt to contain her anger. The Beatrice she was months ago would have worried. Was Ava afraid of her? Was Ava disgusted by her? The thoughts had swirled that movie night. What if she did admit to a crush on Patricia Velasquez? Would this new person she wanted so badly to be around, without knowing why, suddenly change her mind once she found out the truth?

But Ava hadn’t. Ava won’t. Beatrice knows it with every fiber of her being. There are very few absolute truths in the world, but this is one of them.

“They read my journal, you know,” she continues. The words are coming out easily, this tiny fissure in her chest cracking open as Ava looks at her with wide and trusting eyes. “A new girl started school at the beginning of the term. Her name was Mina. Her father was in banking, I believe. She had the bluest eyes I had ever seen in my life.”

Ava scoffs lightly. “Blue eyes.”

She skims the pad of her thumb over Ava’s wrist. “One day, our hands brushed. It was something simple, innocent. She was passing me a paper, and we miscalculated the distance. I’m sure it meant nothing to her.”

“It meant something to you,” Ava guesses.

“I was thirteen. Everything meant something.” Beatrice sighs, feeling her chest rise and fall heavily. “And anything that meant something to me went into my journal. I just didn’t know that what went into my journal eventually landed in my parents’ hands.”

“So those bastards went through your private journal and read about some girl who touched your hand,” Ava hisses. “I swear, the minute I meet them, it’s fist to face. They don’t call me The Piraya for nothing, you know.”

“No one calls you that.”

“They might call me that, you don’t know. I have a whole superhero persona you don’t know about.” Ava puffs out her chest a little bit.

“The name Piraya implies you’re more of a villain than a superhero.”

“I’m a villain’s villain. How’s that?”

The trickle of despair of dragging this up again fades as Ava’s smile widens. She knows what Ava is doing. But she doesn’t stop her, grateful for the brevity and the way it makes her feel like she’s grounded in something, not floating listlessly and endlessly in her terrible memories.

“I mean it.” Ava’s voice drops, low and serious. “I’ll be their worst nightmare.”

“I’m afraid that role is already taken,” she says quietly. “Though, I don’t think they intended for it to be their daughter.” She sighs. She used to be her mother’s doll. But once she started moving her own parts, she found herself moving in the opposite direction.

“Bea,” Ava whispers. She tightens her grip on Beatrice’s wrist.

“I remember I wrote that touching her hand was as if the heavens opened up and I finally understood what song the angels were singing. We were in the middle of a poetry unit, and I fancied myself quite good at it.” She lets out a dry chuckle. “When I found them in the kitchen one night holding onto my journal I foolishly thought they had found out I was reading Emily Dickenson instead of studying for my science exam.”

Beatrice remembers coming down the stairs, flushed with the late November cold. Mina had invited her for dinner the next night, and she promised to show Beatrice the new video game she got. Beatrice didn’t care about those kinds of things, but no one else had gotten an invitation to Mina’s. Beatrice felt special.

But her parents’ faces had stopped her in her tracks. She didn’t notice her journal at first. It was made to look discreet, not to stand out. It had blended into her mother’s dark skirt, and it wasn’t until her mother raised it into the air that she saw it for what it was.

They asked her to explain herself. She wasn’t sure what they wanted her to explain, not at first. She stumbled through an apology about delaying her studying; she’d do it immediately and ask her teacher for an extra take home lesson. She scrambled through a rushed explanation about having new friends meant more opportunities for networking. With new friends, she could join a new club. It would do well on her list of extracurriculars.

It wasn’t until her mother spit out the name Mina that she had any idea of what she was supposed to be afraid of.

“What did they say?” Ava asks gently.

“They didn’t have to say much. There were questions about who Mina was. My mother had a particular talent of making something that wasn’t a swear sound like it. And she hissed Mina’s name like it was the dirtiest word she could say.”

Beatrice thinks of Mina now. Where was she? What was she doing? Beatrice never heard from her after she left. No letters, no calls. She came and went in her life so quickly, it was as if Beatrice made her up. The only sign that she had been there was the page missing from her journal, returned to her the night before she left for school.

“They demanded to know what she had done to me. What had I done to her? I was so confused. She had touched my hand. I certainly hadn’t…” Beatrice’s chest hitches at the thought. “It was a fleeting moment, but I learned that fleeting moments were the most damaging ones. That,” she says dryly. “And that locks do nothing to keep a determined person out.”

“Locks are meant to keep people out,” Ava all but hisses. She sighs, working her fingers up Beatrice’s arm to her elbow. They rest in the dip of her arm, right over the thin vein under Beatrice’s skin. “God, Bea. I’m so sorry. They were - are - horrible. No one should have had to go through that. Especially not you.”

Especially not you, Ava says. Like Beatrice is better than anyone else. Like she should exist under different rules.

“Of course you’re afraid,” Ava says quietly, speaking to herself. She raises her voice, talking to Beatrice now. “Of course you’re worried about even - Jesus, Bea. Touching a girl’s hand?” She looks down as if she’s suddenly noticing how she’s knotted herself around Beatrice’s arm. She laughs dryly. “What would they say if they saw us now?”

Ava means what if they saw me comforting you? Not what if they saw how I touch you like nothing else matters?

The answer would be the same: her mother would simply set fire to the room.

The chasm is widening now. She’s cracked the seam on these memories, and her mind is cycling through the events that followed: a new suitcase set, pink with her name on an address tag; a set of starched uniforms that felt like coarse wool against her skin; a final meal in her parents’ formal dining room, the chef-of-the-week uncaring of her dislike for persimmons; a single plane ticket pressed into her hand and a dismissive nod as a car pulled away from the airport, leaving her alone.

She tells Ava this in stilted words, as if narrating someone else’s life. But then it starts to sink in, the anger. And it spreads in her belly, burning into a rage. She feels the moment the numbness transitions to an inferno. She hears herself exhale the word alone and something snaps.

“They had no right,” she says. Even through her anger, the words surprise her.

Ava’s voice sounds hoarse, unused. “They didn’t.”

“I was a child. Their child.” Her hand clenches tightly into a fist, Ava’s hand moving with the flex of her forearm muscle. “A ‘problem’ arose and they just…” She stops. “They strung me along until I was no longer of use to them.”

“You are not a problem.” Ava's voice is low, burning hot in the rapidly closing space between them, in a tone she’s never heard before.

Beatrice almost startles, confused. She had nearly forgotten that Ava was here, so consumed in her story. But now she’s noticing her.

Her eyes flash. The tops of her cheeks pinken slightly. She’s angry. Beatrice has seen her on more than one occasion get angry on her behalf. The mere thought of her parents seems to send her into a flurry, but the anger in her eyes now is nearly staggering.

“You’re not,” she says again, insistent to the point of almost desperation. “Beatrice, you are not a problem.”

And Beatrice, blinking, already falling, dives deeper into love with her.

Ava feels her cheeks go hot with a liquid anger that roils in her blood. She’s been angry before - angry at Bea’s parents, even. But this feels like pure molten rage. All of the pieces are slotting together: a young girl who just wanted to make her parents proud; who saw someone - touched someone so innocently - and felt the world shift; who didn’t understand why a cliff rose up between her and the people who were supposed to love her more than anything; who trusted so completely and had it thrown back in her face as if she was the one who somehow failed.

Ava’s fingers tighten until her fingernails cut deep half-moon shapes into her palm. She pulls the words out from between her teeth like nails scratching the floor.

“You are not a problem.”

Bea blinks. The broiling heat in her stomach softens its edge, replaced by the confusion in Bea’s eyes as she blinks again.

“You’re not,” Ava insists. She tugs Bea’s hand, pulling her closer until they’re pressed together, an almost-sweaty slide of the skin of their knees bumping together. Bea blinks a second time, mouth parting slightly. “Beatrice, you are not a problem.”

She needs Bea to believe her. She’s never needed anything more in her whole life. She could live without air. She could make it minutes without oxygen. But she can’t live with another second of Beatrice believing her parents’ poison.

She coaxes Bea another inch closer. “Do you hear me?”

Bea’s mouth parts further, something on the tip of her tongue. Ava squeezes Bea’s hand a little tighter. “Do you hear me?”

“I hear you,” Bea says faintly.

Ava isn’t satisfied. “You need to believe it. You’re not a problem. You’re-” She softens her grip, thumbs Bea’s wild pulse. “You’re-”

“Don’t say perfect,” Bea whispers, eyes slamming closed. “Please don’t say perfect.”

Ava hesitates. She was going to say perfect. She was going to say frustratingly perfect. But she can pivot. There are a million other things she can call Bea - courageous, intelligent, kind, beautiful. All things she’s told Bea before and all things she’d tell her a million times more.

“Human,” she lands on. Bea’s eyes open slowly. “You’re human, just like every single other person on this big rock orbiting in space. You live like everyone else. You laugh, you cry. You love, just like everyone else. And none of that- not who you are or who you love, or even the special little rules you have for tea that took me forever to learn - not a single part of you is a problem.”

The space between Bea’s eyes wrinkles in thought. Ava usually holds herself back, usually just wishes to press it flat gently. But the line between them is so thin now that she doesn’t think twice about it, reaching up and resting her thumb between her brows, pushing gently until the skin relaxes.

“Can I tell you a secret?” she asks in a whisper. Bea holds so many of her secrets, one more won’t hurt.

Bea nods slowly.

“When I first met you, I was so… intimidated.” Bea’s eyes widen slightly and Ava nods. “I was. You seemed so… cool. Composed. Not at all affected by someone who crashed into your table with the grace of a… what did you call it?”

“A newborn foal,” Bea says lightly.

Ava grins, her smile widening when some of it reflects in Bea’s face. “A newborn foal. That’s a giraffe, right?” She doesn’t wait to be corrected. “I thought, I need to know who this is and I need to know everything about her right now or I’m going to combust.”

Bea rolls her eyes, the motion of her eyes disrupting Ava’s thumb, still on her forehead. She doesn’t drop her hand, being bold and dragging the blunt ends of her fingernails against the smooth skin just above Bea’s eyebrow.

“You’re very dramatic.”

“Did I pretend to be anything else?” Ava shakes her head when Bea opens her mouth. “Don’t answer that. Just know.” She sobers, breathing in and exhaling the most truthful thing she thinks she’s ever said in her life. “The minute I met you, I knew you were something spectacular. I knew you were going to change my life.”

A weight hangs between them now. Bea looks shy under it, her head ducking slightly. Ava’s fingers slip, nearly burying into Bea’s hair. She drops her hand back into her lap but curls it over Bea’s, not quite wanting to let go yet.

“Can I tell you a secret now?” Bea asks, eyes still on the space between them.

Ava nods without being seen. “Anything.”

“I never really felt like that.”

“Like what?” Ava frowns. “Spectacular?”

“Human.” Bea looks up. “I spent so long feeling like… an other. That feeling like a human just didn’t… I couldn’t make sense of that. It took some time.”

Ava smiles gently. “But you got there.”

“After-” Bea stops herself, pulling her lips in as if she’s trying to keep something from erupting out. Ava watches the thin stream of air work its way through her nose, and catches the slight shine of Bea’s eyes, the way they seem to sparkle as unshed tears fill them.

“Hey,” she says softly. “No. No, don’t cry.” She drops Bea’s hands, cupping Bea’s face. Her thumbs brush along the flats of Bea’s cheeks. “I don’t know what to do when pretty girls cry,” she admits.

Bea laughs, choked and watery. “Neither do I. But it never stops me from telling you that Lilith doesn’t actually hate you no matter how much of her fancy vodka you drink.”

“One time,” Ava mutters, lips pulled back in a smile as she pretends to be annoyed.

It works. Bea’s smile seems a little stronger. “Ava,” she says quietly.

Ava strokes down a line of freckles absentmindedly. “Yeah?”

“Can I tell you another secret?”

“You can tell me you’re responsible for bringing down the Vatican, for all I care.”

Bea doesn’t laugh, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth instead. Ava wants to press down against the smooth skin but she stops herself before her thumb drifts that low. That perfect, soft-looking skin, a breath away. She focuses, pulling herself back into the moment.

Bea’s voice is nearly a whisper when she says, “Someone thought I was spectacular once.”

“Just once?”

Another silence. Ava tightens her jaw. Listen, don’t talk. She can do that. She can be still. It’s something Bea has taught her - just be still. Just wait. It will come to you when you stay in one place. So, she’s been waiting, patient against every urge within her to jump up and down and scream.

Sometimes, these feelings for Bea are so big in her chest that she feels like she’s going to explode into a hundred stars. She pictures herself shattering as the unspoken words build in her until they can’t go anywhere but out. But Bea is something to wait for. Bea is someone Ava doesn’t mind standing still for. She knows it’s there. She knows the feelings aren’t just her and that Bea needs to find her way forward. Ava just needs to be the flashlight in the distance, waiting for Bea to find her.

“At least, I thought she thought I was spectacular,” Bea continues, almost as if she didn’t hear Ava. “She said- well, she said something close enough to it.”

Ava can feel another piece of the puzzle slotting into place. Another brick that makes up Bea’s nearly-impenetrable walls. For every one Ava manages to crack and loosen, another suddenly rises in its place. But she feels like this time, it falls and nothing slots into place.

She doesn’t stop herself from touching a freckle this time, tapping out a song she heard years ago before her hands drop again. “Was she pretty?”

She’s clumsy on a good day. Boisterous on others. But Bea is doing that thing again, learning how to run without knowing how to walk. And Ava is practicing. She’s trying so hard. She stays so still that Bea could almost imagine her gone.

“People are pretty in different ways,” Bea finally says. It’s a very diplomatic answer, something so very Bea that Ava breaks her stillness to smile. “All the other girls wanted to be her. I remember someone saying that her hair was so shiny, she must brush it a hundred times on each side before bed.”

Ava can’t help herself. “Is that why your hair is always so perfect? Are you secretly combing it until your wrist hurts?”

“A brush through wouldn’t kill you, Ava.”

“Speak for yourself.”

Bea’s growing smile flickers out. “I suppose it didn’t matter if she was conventionally pretty. I…” Ava watches the way she shores herself up against an invisible storm. “I thought she was beautiful.”

“What was her name?” she asks quietly.

“Penelope Marshall.” Bea says it like a prayer.

“Penelope.” Ava suddenly creates an image in her mind. A girl with wide brown eyes, bronze skin, a perfect smile of perfect teeth, a button nose, long and shiny hair.

Bea swallows and Ava feels the click of her jaw under her palms. “She was in my year, her room just down the hall from me. We were partners in Latin.”

“I bet she copied all her answers off your test.”

“Maybe once or twice,” she admits. “She certainly did not always do her homework on time. But Sister Magdalene liked her and simply turned a blind eye every so often.”

Bea’s cheeks are warming. Ava can see it in the way they pinken.

“It’s silly, but… I remember the first time she smiled at me. I had conjugated the verb, sum, to be, in the pluperfect subjunctive. She had been trying for the better part of an hour, but the switch from esse to fui for the tenses was always confusing to her.” Bea smiles slightly. “When I gave her the answer, she smiled at me and it felt like…”

“Like the world kind of tilted off its axis?”

Bea looks surprised. “Yes. Exactly that.”

“I’m familiar with the feeling.”

Because she is. So, so, deeply familiar with the feeling. The first time she saw Bea, that first smile she got as she bumbled her way through cleaning up the few drops of tea that spilled, the world went sideways and it hasn’t completely righted itself since.

“It’s peculiar, that feeling. It sticks with you, doesn’t it?” Bea looks down. “I used to dream about it,” she admits.

“That’s normal, Bea,” she says gently.

Bea looks up again. “Is it? Because it didn’t feel normal. It felt… other. Strange. Like a rock in the pit of my stomach. Penelope would touch my arm over our Latin text, and I could see my parents poring over my journal, looking for any otherness that might exist between us.”

“She made you happy, though.”

“I thought I made her happy as well.”

Ava doesn’t need Bea to tell her the rest. She can imagine how it went: touches as they broke down a dead language, sitting with their shoulders brushing at meals, giggling as they studied in what Ava assumes must have been a massive and cold library. She can imagine the small strands of Bea’s hair slipping from her bun across her cheeks and Penelope pushing them back behind her ear with quick fingers.

Ava lets herself be selfish and do that same thing now. Bea’s face turns slightly into her hand. Not enough that she probably even notices.

“When did she kiss you?”

Bea looks surprised again and Ava’s hand falls away. “How did you-”

“A good guess,” she lies. Because she knows that having Bea there and not kissing her is God’s strongest battle. She has been a good soldier.

She’s not sure how much longer she can be good.

“A few months into the semester.” Bea’s voice goes taut. “She invited me to study for her biology test. On the recommendation of our teacher, she told me. I imagined it was a lie; she had the same grades as I did.” Her cheeks pinken. “We were reviewing the different biological features of various aquatic animals and she…”

“She kissed you over the cod?” Ava says, voice a little strangled.

Bea meets her eyes. “It was my first kiss. Everyone I knew had theirs already, but I thought that if this is what I was waiting for, it was worth it.”

“The best things are worth waiting for.”

“I’d read about whirlwind romances in novels. Girls in the dormitories talked about it. Boyfriends they had back home that they saw on holiday weekends. But it was nothing like kissing behind locked doors. It couldn’t be. No one else could be experiencing what I did. It was so uniquely ours. Do you know what I mean?”

She does. It means closed doors. It means secrets. Bea reads it on her face because she can see something close to shame bloom across Bea’s cheeks.

“It was just for us,” Bea confirms. “A secret not even my parents, kilometers away, would learn of.”

Ava has never been one for secrets. She doesn’t like the way they taste in her mouth. You’re keeping your own, a voice like Mary’s reminds her. But that secret isn’t really a secret, is it? Because Mary knows. And Shannon knows because Mary knows. And her favorite barista, Lucy, knows it. JC knows it. The belayer at the rock climbing place and the guy at the one party she dragged Bea to and Lilith and Camila - they all know.

Bea knows too. Ava feels the truth of that in every crevice of her heart. Bea knows. Bea isn’t going to do anything about it - she feels that truth too. But the list of people Ava is hiding this from is shorter than the list of people who know it.

“You loved her.”

Bea’s smile is sad, far away. “First kiss, first love. I was convinced we would graduate and run away together. She would lie in my bed propped up on one arm talking about Paris and Rome and the places we could travel as soon as we got away from school. I’d felt so futureless when I arrived, but now I could imagine a million possibilities.”

Ava thinks of making a joke. Something about Bea jet-setting across all of Europe with a pretty girl, exactly the kind of lifestyle she deserved. But she knows this story doesn’t have a happy ending.

“She told me she loved me. More than anyone she loved in her life. She said we were young, but it doesn’t matter. You just feel love louder, she would tell me. I…” Bea takes a deep breath. “Mina may have been the first girl to touch my hand, but Penelope…”

Bea goes quiet long enough that Ava nudges her hand gently. “She…”

Bea’s eyes clear a little. “She touched me in other places. In other ways.”

Ava guesses the next part of this story too. “You wanted to tell someone and she wanted you guys to stay a secret.”

Bea laughs, short and sharp. “I wish it had been that simple. I wish I had been enough to stay a secret. Instead… She must have learned my parents’ trick. When someone becomes unseemly, when it becomes ugly and unwelcome, you simply… strike it from the record. Forget it ever existed. Send it away to boarding school and hope for the best. Or-or pick a new Latin partner and create an ocean that feels uncrossable.”

“Bea,” Ava says quietly.

“I could have accepted it was all done. An ending. I’m sure I could have. But instead I was…” She shakes her head. “Have you ever had someone you thought you were in love with look at you and tell you that none of it mattered? That it was girls being girls and that whispered promises in the corners of classrooms were never more than just a game? A joke?”

“Bea.”

But Bea has a haunted look in her eyes, like she’s somewhere else than Ava’s bedroom with its overflowing laundry and rumpled comforter and the paint swatches on the wall. Ava imagines she’s back in a girls dormitory standing in front of a pretty girl who is cutting her down to bits.

“She told me that none of it was real. It was wrong. It was just something to do. She wasn’t like that,” Bea says, voice just as haunted. “She promised that she wouldn’t tell, because she didn’t want people to think there was anything wrong with her.” An empty laugh, sardonic and hollow in a way that Ava’s never heard, escapes Bea’s lips. “Don’t worry, she said, I wouldn’t want people to think there was something wrong with you, either. I suppose in some twisted way, she still cared.”

The thing about Ava is that she’s always capable of more than she thinks she is. They said she’d never walked; now she runs across campus after Mary. They said she’d never be smart enough to go to university; now she’s in the front row of all her classes, her scholarship enough to make sure she doesn’t need to worry about her degree. They said she’d never make friends; now she has six of them who make every single day something more than she ever hoped.

They said she’d never fall in love; now she has Bea.

And when she doesn’t think she can go a little further, push a little harder, she thinks of Sister Frances and the way she told Ava that she’d never be capable of anything.

But she’s capable of this: setting everyone on fire who ever hurt Bea.

Her anger unleashes like a wildfire, and it swells in her chest so brightly that for a moment she can’t breathe. She can’t see straight. She’s imagining Penelope again but all of the softness is gone and she’s a cutting monster knocking Bea to the ground. She tightens her hand into a fist so tightly that sharp pinpricks echo in her palm from her fingernails.

She doesn’t realize she’s nearly growling until Bea’s fingers are working hers apart, smoothing them flat.

“Ava, it’s alright.”

“It’s not.” Her voice sounds stretched thin. “She’s not.”

“She’s gone.”

“But she’s still here.” Ava shakes her head insistently. “She’s still stuck in here.” She presses a single finger over Bea’s heart. “She still has all this space to be cruel. And when I meet her - not if. I’m going to find her - I’m going to make her suffer. I’m going to-”

“You can’t go on a one-woman crusade because someone hurt my feelings.”

Ava stares. “Hurt your- Bea, she didn’t hurt your feelings. She broke them.”

Bea straightens up slightly. “I’m not broken.”

Ava softens instantly, like someone turning out a light. “No. No, you’re not Bea. Of course you aren’t. There’s nothing wrong with you.” She ducks her head, catches Bea’s eyes, and smiles a little. “You’re incredible. You are spectacular. I promise you that.”

Bea exhales. “I’m embarrassed to say someone had such a hold on me.”

“That’s not embarrassing. That’s human.” Ava raises a cautious hand to Bea’s cheek again. “That’s wonderfully, perfectly human.”

“She just…” Bea takes a deep breath. Ava’s hand slips to her jawline. “My whole world ended in a single minute. Everything I did after that felt… fraught. I couldn’t trust her, couldn’t trust anything anymore. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, wondering if she was going to change her mind and tell someone how different, how terrible I was. She made me… nervous.”

She made me… nervous, Ava thinks.

Ava feels the soft skin between her eyes wrinkle as she works the words over in her mind. Of course Penelope made Bea nervous. Of course she made Bea doubt everything - every friendship, every interaction. Of course she held so much power over the way Bea engaged in the world. Of course she-

Oh.

Bea, who doesn’t linger too long when she’s looking at Ava. Bea, whose cheeks go pink when Ava dusts a hand down her bare shoulder. Beatrice, who is always the gentleman, always the one to hold back when they seem to be teetering on this invisible line of why aren’t we.

Of course Bea is going to be scared of what their friendship could become. Because she had this happen. She put her whole heart into something only to be told how wrong it was when it was over, how wrong she was, and that none of it was real.

Ava has been wondering why Bea is so afraid of what they could be. She thought if she proved herself, if she stayed when she could have run, then Bea would understand. She thought Bea would look at her and see someone worthy enough of falling in love with. She thought, some nights when the stars on the ceiling just weren’t enough light, that there was something wrong with her. Something that Bea wasn’t telling her because she was too nice to let Ava down so cruelly.

But it’s not her. It’s not Bea. It’s all the ghosts of Bea’s past stacked up against an ‘Enter’ door that are stopping Bea from pulling it open. It’s all these things outside of Ava’s control that’s holding them back.

It all comes together so neatly in her mind. Bea is not going to make the first move. She never was. She’s been leading Ava to this place, but she can’t make the final step. She’s loading the gun but she can’t pull the trigger. She’s putting this in Ava’s hands and hoping that Ava doesn’t break it in two.

Ava’s clumsy on a good day. Boisterous on others. But she’s also been practicing so hard at being still and maybe that was the wrong thing to do. Maybe Bea needs her to move, to run ahead and give in first.

Ava takes a deep breath, feeling it expand in her chest. It’s loud, roaring in her ears. Bea looks at her curiously. Maybe she doesn’t know that Ava has put it all together. Maybe she’s just as confused as Ava was a second ago. But Bea is smart. No, she’s not just smart, she’s Ava-smart. And she can read Ava like one of the dog-eared books littering their breakfast bar.

“Bea.” Her voice is remarkably steady.

Remarkable, because her whole body feels like it’s moving, vibrating at a frequency unable to be heard by the human ear. She catches Bea’s wrist in her fingers, locking them tightly around the delicate bone.

Bea is still, eyes dropping down to where their skin meets. “Yes?”

“Beatrice.”

Her hand is the thing shaking now as it rises up between them and slowly presses to Bea’s cheek, fingernails curling around her jaw. She feels it move as Bea swallows, hears the slight click of it as the silence magnifies. Bea’s eyes widen and she nearly pulls away, Ava’s hand on her face the only thing stopping her.

“Ava, I…”

Ava imagined their first kiss. She’s dreamed of it almost from the moment she met Bea, already wondering what it would be like before she knew who Bea really was - before she knew how good it was going to be. But she read something somewhere about how knowing someone enhanced the experience of loving them. How something steeped in history made the love richer. And the history she has with Bea may be short, but it is rich. Bea knows all her secrets and now she knows all of Bea’s.

So, fucking kiss her, a voice like Mary’s demands.

And isn’t Mary always telling her she has to listen better?

She only closes her eyes just before their lips touch. She wants to see Bea’s face and is rewarded with the fluttering of delicate eyelashes, the slight parting of Bea’s lips, the quiet hitch of her breath and the way her throat bobs as she tries to hold it back. Her hand slips to the back of Bea’s neck, pulling just until her top lip brushes Bea’s bottom one.

Her eyes slip closed as Bea’s bottom lip slips between hers and they’re kissing. They’re kissing. Bea is warm and soft and still. She stays there, intent in the way her mouth clings to Bea’s. I’m here. I’m kissing you. I’m choosing you. And you’re spectacular.

Bea shudders, her whole body coming alive, and she surges forward as Ava starts to pull away. The air goes out of her lungs and she tips backwards a little and she panics, unwilling to break apart now that Bea is kissing her back. But Bea’s hand goes past her, holding her up as she exhales against Ava’s mouth.

They’re so close together, their knees knocking. Bea’s mouth presses hot against hers, closed mouths clinging to each other. She can’t believe it, can’t believe they’re finally kissing and Bea isn’t running - she’s closer as Ava’s shoulders fall back against the bed, Bea’s hand curled around her shoulder as she settles against Ava’s side. Her free hand has found the hem of Ava’s shirt and her knuckles are brushing against the sensitive skin above Ava’s navel, steady and warm.

It’s Bea who takes the hesitant step forward, her lips parting just enough that Ava’s slide, and then Ava can feel Bea breathing as she kisses a little harder, mouths open against each other. It’s Bea who takes a less hesitant step again, the tip of her tongue ghosting along Ava’s bottom lip.

Ava pulled down the last brick, but Bea was a roaring river behind the dam and she kisses like she’s been uncorked. Her fingernails dig into the soft flesh beneath Ava’s shoulder, her knuckles press into Ava’s stomach, and she kisses with reckless abandon.

“Bea,” Ava whispers between kisses. She’s never been one for religion but maybe she’s been worshipping the wrong gods. Maybe this is who she should have been praying to all along.

Bea hums pleasantly against her mouth. She’s bolder now, kisses a little more frenzied. Ava understands. She tightens her hand at the base of Bea’s neck, pulls her closer. Her other hand slides down the flat of Bea’s stomach and curls around her hip bone, thumb stroking over the soft fabric of her sweatpants.

She thought kissing Bea would be amazing but she was wrong. It’s life-altering. She can see everything shifting to accommodate the way Bea’s lips press, hot and open-mouthed, against her own. She’s going to be completely altered after this, her life now in two separate parts: Before Kissing Bea and After Kissing Bea.

Bea’s hum burns into a low moan as Ava’s fingers dig more insistently into the dip of her hip. Ava is addicted now. She kisses harder, body starting to move as she rolls, a leg going over Bea’s until she’s bracketing Bea’s hips. She slides her mouth along Bea’s jaw to just below her ear, following the way Bea pants at the sensation of her teeth against smooth skin.

She needs to be closer. She needs nothing between them. She sits up, holding her weight as she works her fingers in her shirt and lifts it high and off her shoulders. She tosses it onto the corner, adding to the laundry pile, and sits above Bea in her bra with the flamingos on it, her chest heaving in anticipation.

Bea stares up at her, her face flushed and her lips bruised. Hesitant hands go to Ava’s waist, fingers flexing experimentally as they settle just above the hem of her shorts.

“Hi,” Ava whispers.

Bea nods, the line of her throat bobbing. Ava watches as her eyes track down her body, shoulders down to the sliver of skin just above her shorts. It takes her a minute to look back up and meet Ava’s eyes.

“Is this-?”

“Yes,” Bea interrupts. Her fingers feel purposeful now, like she’s burning her fingerprints into Ava’s skin. “I… I want this.”

A niggling thought works its way into Ava’s mind. Just a breath of hesitation. “You’re sure?”

Bea sits up, hands sliding to the small of her back. She blinks, eyes wide but focused. “Ava, I’ve wanted this for…”

“So long,” Ava finishes.

“So long.” Bea’s eyes flutter and she leans forward, mouth brushing over Ava’s collarbone. She feels her eyelashes against her throat. “Are you sure you want me?”

Me, she says unspoken. Me out of everyone else you could have.

Ava puts two strong fingers under Bea’s chin, lifts her face up until their eyes meet. I’ve never wanted anything more sounds too small. But it’s the only way she can think to say it. And when she does, Bea’s smile brightens the room.

Bea presses her lips to the pulse thudding in Ava’s neck, gentle teeth scraping against the skin. Ava breathes in sharply at the feeling of it, of Bea’s fingers working steadily up her back until they’re hesitantly touching the clasp of Ava’s bra. Ava is brave enough for both of them. She reaches back and loosens it, the fabric falling away from her chest. She tosses that away too.

Ava hisses softly when Bea’s fingers skate up her stomach to cup her breast. Her hand is burning, and Ava pushes into it so she can feel herself on fire. It only grows hotter when Bea kisses her collarbone again, teeth a little more insistent as she makes her way down to her own hand.

Ava pulls at the bottom of Bea’s shirt, freeing it from where she’s sitting on it, and pulls gracelessly until it’s over her head and somewhere by the door. She traces the lines of Bea’s navy bra until she finds the clasp and undoes it, flinging it away.

“I’m not going to make a joke about your boobs,” she whispers into Bea’s temple. Her tongue swirls over sensitive skin at Ava’s chest. “But just know that I really want to.”

Bea lifts her head. “I appreciate your restraint.”

“Saint Ava, they call me,” she babbles. “Patron Saint of-”

Her words are swallowed up in a gasp as Bea presses a hand down purposefully down on her waist. It sends a shiver through her and pulls a little bit of a moan from the hollow of her throat, Bea’s eyes widening slightly in surprise.

Ava tucks some of the loose strands framing Bea’s face back behind her ear, cheeks just a little red. “Before we… Before we do anything else, you need to know that I’m not going to be normal about this. Like, at all.”

Bea walks two fingers up her side, using ribs like steps. She moves them across her chest, brushing against her nipple. Ava shivers again. “I don’t know that I’m much interested in normal,” she admits.

Ava arches into her touch. “I’d hope not, considering how much you’re into me.”

She pauses, breath caught in her lungs as she waits for Bea’s reaction. Bea looks up with wide, imploring eyes. She searches for something on Ava’s face, and Ava hopes beyond hope that she finds it.

Not because she needs Bea’s hand to keep doing what it’s doing. Not because she wants to slip her fingers beneath Bea’s waistband. Not because she wants to hover over Bea and nose down the long stretch of what she’s sure is perfect skin from her chest to her belly button.

Because she wants all those things. But she also wants Bea to know she’s safe. That it’s okay to want her. That Ava is going to be someone she can trust, that Ava won’t treat her like something that’s going to break but will hold her gently regardless.

It feels big, to say that. But Bea is right there, a fingertip away, with her lips bruised and her hair starting to tangle around Ava’s fingers, and she thinks: I’m never going to come back from this. I’ll never be the same. What she feels is undeniable and real, the most real thing she has ever known and she would never, ever want to go back, even if she could.

“I am,” Bea finally says, voice a breathless whisper.

“A lot?” Ava asks, a sliver of neediness in her words.

Bea nods, unblinking. “A lot, yes.”

Ava makes a show of breathing a sigh of relief, a relieved smile on her face. “Well, that’s embarrassing for you.”

“Ava.”

Ava buries her reply in a kiss, fingers curling around Bea’s shoulders as she slowly inches her backward onto the bed until Ava is a shadow hovering above her. She wonders what the hollow of Bea’s throat tastes like, and she smiles into the kiss as she realizes she doesn’t need to ask. She breaks away from Bea’s mouth, kissing over the point of her chin and the underside of her jaw and down to the dip of her throat, teeth nipping at sensitive skin as Bea’s breath hitches. She can feel fingers flex at her waist and then tighten more purposefully.

Sensitive neck, she catalogs. She wants to make a list, grow it until she knows all of the places that cause Bea to make that breathless noise.

Bea’s fingers are insistent at her neck, drawing her back up until they’re kissing, harder than they have before. Bea kisses with lips and teeth, her tongue soothing away the nips, while one hand works its way to Ava’s waistband, curling into the thick denim fabric of her jeans.

She would have been satisfied with some heavy making out. Her skin is already burning where Bea’s bare chest is pressed against hers. She can live with this. But Bea doesn’t seem to be able to live with just this. Ava feels the back of her knuckles against her stomach as Bea pops the button of her jeans and works down the zipper. It’s so loud in the silence.

Ava kisses her way down Bea’s throat again then goes lower, tongue leading the way as she flicks the tip of it over a pebbled nipple. There it is again, that breathless noise. The fingers at her waistband freeze, tighten around the denim, and then release. Ava’s hand goes to Bea’s other breast, and she feels it press into her palm as Bea arches her back slightly.

Ava dares to go lower, kissing over the swell of Bea’s breast and down to her navel. She slides back on Bea’s legs, her fingertips light against Bea’s skin above her hip bones.

“Ava,” Bea breathes. She reaches down, hands reaching for Ava’s chin. Ava kisses the center of Bea’s palm as strong fingers curl around her jaw. “Ava.”

She doesn’t know what Bea’s trying to say, but she doesn’t need to. She can feel the heat radiating off Bea, the anticipation. She hooks two fingers in the waistband of Bea’s study-sweatpants, the ones she wears on all-nighters where she’s going to fall asleep sitting up, and starts to work them down a little as Bea’s hips lift off the bed.

She rests her forehead in the dip of Bea’s hip. She’s never believed in a God, but she does believe there’s a higher power out in the cosmos, and they’ve suddenly found her worthy of this gift: Bea stretched out across the sea of her comforter with her eyes closed and her chin tipped into the air as her chest rises and falls with increasingly harder breathes and her hips arching just slightly until Ava feels her against her forehead.

Because shit, this is holy.

A hand snakes its way into her hair, blunt fingernails scratching against her scalp. She can feel them trembling slightly. Ava wants to feel the whole of Bea tremble. She kisses down as she pulls Bea’s sweats down until they’re past the top of her thighs to her knees.

This feels like a moment they can’t come back from. And looking up at Bea, at the way those dark eyes stare into hers and the hand in her hair tightens slightly, she doesn’t want to come back from it. She wants to never, ever come back from this. She only wants what happens on past this moment.

She works Bea’s underwear down until they’re on the floor with her sweatpants in a tangled heap, and she noses her way lower until it’s nothing but heat and something slick against her tongue. Bea keens, hips lifting high off the bed, and Ava presses down hard against them with flat palms, keeping Bea down in one place.

The hand tightens in her hair, Bea’s knees tighten around her shoulders, trapping her in this crystalline moment. She rolls into it, tongue working more steadily as she feels Bea’s hips start to roll in response. She dips lower and soars higher, an unknown melody working into her mind and guiding her as Bea lets a sigh loosen from her throat.

Her hand climbs until she feels Bea’s breast against her palm, and she works her fingers over sensitive skin. Bea’s hand traps hers in place, palm burning. She can feel Bea’s legs start to tremble, and she licks a little more precisely, a little more purposefully.

She swirls, she drives forward and pulls away. She finds a rhythm until Bea’s whole body starts to tighten into an invisible line, pulled taut by an some unseen string. Ava doesn’t stop, even as Bea’s legs tighten around her. Even as that hand in her hair pulls a little harder. Even as Bea’s breathing swells into a hard pant and she lets out a strangled cry of Ava’s name.

She doesn’t stop until Bea’s body melts into loose muscles, until Bea’s hand goes slack in her hair. Everything is hot against her skin. Her tongue eases away, laving up and over Bea’s hip to her navel and charting a slow course to the center of her chest until she’s back at the hollow of Bea’s throat, teeth nipping as she feels Bea’s chest rise and fall rapidly against her own.

Bea draws another ragged breath, a hand up over her red face.

Ava pulls it away and kisses Bea hard, their mouths sliding together. Bea’s fingers curl around her throat, holding her in place when Ava tries to pull away. A tongue dips behind her teeth. Bea inhales sharply, stealing the air from Ava’s lungs.

Bea, still panting softly, hooks a leg under her and twists, rolling until Ava is on her back, and Bea is hovering over her, eyes dark and flashing.

The air punches its way out of Ava’s throat. If she’s cataloging the things that turn her on, this has just gone to the top of the list, right after the way Bea tastes and the feeling of her mouth sliding against hers.

“Bea.” Her voice is strangled and warped between them.

But Bea doesn’t answer her. She works her fingers purposefully down Ava’s front, sliding beneath her waistband without fanfare, without hesitation. Ava’s legs part with a half-breath, the other part of it stuck in her throat.

Then it’s nothing but an overwhelming sensation and the soft sound of Bea panting in her ear as Ava feels the world start to tighten around her. Bea’s breath is replaced by a white static, and there’s a fullness in her that she knows she’s going to be chasing for a while. Her hips lift and fall, a rhythm she knows without having to think about it. She rides it out, settles into it like she’s known it all her life and then-

And then-

Then she’s soaring, hips off the bed and her whole body shaking as she tries to focus on the rhythm again, the whole dance gone from her mind as it’s replaced by fireworks exploding, one after another. She can feel Bea’s hand on her, in her, and nothing else. She’s disconnected from reality except for where Bea is touching her. Floating weightlessly in an in-between where nothing but this feeling and Bea, hot against her side, exist.

She crashes back down, the world slamming back into her head as her legs clench, Bea’s hand between them. Strong fingers slide away and stroke across her thighs before they go up and curl around her side. Her breath comes hard, her pulse pounding in her head. She squeezes her eyes tightly, afraid to open them and see that the whole world has been turned upside down.

She wouldn’t care if it was, is the problem. She wouldn’t care if she suddenly found herself light years away where there was no oxygen in the solar system. As long as Bea is next to her, she doesn’t care.

She opens her eyes slowly and turns her head, finding Bea looking back at her with liquid pools for eyes.

“Hi,” she breathes, the word sticking in her throat.

Bea smiles softly. “Hi.”

“That was…” She inhales raggedly. “It’s never been like that.”

Because I’ve never been in love, she doesn’t say out loud.

Bea is biting on her bottom lip, eyes searching Ava’s face. “Me either,” she finally says.

Ava hums, content and boneless. “We are so doing that again. Soon,” she promises. “When I can feel my legs, it’s over for you.”

Bea laughs a little. “Okay, Ava.”

Ava lets her eyes close again and when she opens them, Bea is still looking at her. It doesn’t unsettle her. She lets Bea drink her in, and she lets her own eyes follow the lithe line of Bea’s body.

“Boobs,” Ava sighs. She curls one hand around Bea’s breast, no intention in the movement.

Bea wiggles around as if it tickles slightly, but she just settles more tightly against Ava’s side.

“I’m going to be insufferable,” she warns.

“So I can expect more jokes about my boobs.” Bea walks two fingers up her side and across her chest, pressing over where her heart is. “What else?”

Ava inhales shakily. “Anything else you want.”

“Anything?”

“Anything,” she promises. “Whenever you want. I’ll be a court jester for you, babe.”

Bea’s face pinkens at the name, but she holds Ava’s gaze for another moment before she rests her head between Ava’s shoulder and neck. “I do find you marginally funny,” she admits lightly.

Ava grins, the smile lazy. “See? You need to tell more people how funny I am. Mary doesn’t believe it.”

The blush doesn’t fall from Bea’s face. “Please don’t talk about Mary while we’re naked.”

“Why not? She’ll think it’s hilarious.” But Ava stretches her neck and kisses Bea’s temple. “But okay. Just this time.”

“I appreciate it,” Bea murmurs. It’s familiar, the exasperation, but it’s tinted with this whole new feeling. A new depth. “Ava?”

“Hmmm,” Ava hums, sleep pressing against her body.

“I can tell you later.” Fingers brush hair off her damp forehead. “Close your eyes for a little bit.”

“Just a little,” she agrees. “And then I’m making you stir fry.”

Warm lips press against the hollow of her throat, humming an okay against her skin. Bea settles against her side as a warm and welcome weight.

She doesn’t remember falling asleep, but she knows she goes quietly and calmly, and that Bea is still there, still pressed against her side, molded to her like she was never meant to be anywhere else.

She wakes up to the smell of paint. Her eyes take a minute to adjust to the light in the corner but she pushes up on her elbow, the comforter over her sliding down to her waist. She blinks as Bea comes into focus.

“You’re painting?”

Bea turns. She’s barefoot, in her underwear again, and one of Ava’s cropped t-shirts that has a white cat in red shadows and I’m not cute I’m purr evil written on it. It hangs a little higher on her and Ava can see the swell of her breasts through it.

She’s the most beautiful woman Ava has ever seen.

And she’s blushing. “I didn’t want to wake you.”

Ava sits up more fully, stretching her arms above her head. She watches, a slightly smirk on her face, as Bea’s eyes drop to her chest. But she doesn’t push. There’s time to tease Bea about staring at her boobs. All the time in the world, really.

“How long was I asleep?” She looks at the wall. Bea has nearly finished the whole thing.

“Not long.” Bea puts the paint can down on the stool, balancing the paintbrush on the edge of it. “But you looked…”

“Like a dead fish?” She’s aware of the way she sleeps, limbs thrown about and head rolling back. Years of being unable to move makes it so she never stops now, even sleeping.

“Peaceful,” Bea finishes. She’s hesitating, torn between wanting to do something and worrying about doing it.

So, Ava takes the lead, leaning in until she’s kissing Bea. She feels Bea sigh into it and knows it was the right move, that it’s what Bea wanted to do. She wants Bea to know she can do this whenever she wants. Bea kisses back almost instantly, sliding into an already-familiar rhythm.

She pulls away, a smile on her face. “Hi.”

Bea is a little breathless when she says hi back.

“I thought we weren’t painting.”

Bea looks back at the wall, most of it covered already. “You were right. About leaving our mark on this place. Someone needs to know we were here.”

“If we ever move out.”

Bea smiles. “If we ever move out.”

Ava pulls her legs up under her and Bea’s hand into her lap. “The only place I plan on moving is into your room. Or you can move in here, since we’re already decorating.”

“Oh?” Bea says. Her voice seems tight, like she’s holding something back.

A wiggle of doubt worms its way into her mind. “I mean, if you want to. No pressure. I’m more than happy to stay here and we can pretend like-”

“I don’t want to pretend,” Bea interrupts. She seems surprised by the firmness in her words and she sucks in her lips for a second before she shakes her head. “I wasn’t sure if you- I know you just kissed me but maybe that was you letting me down and-”

“Bea.” Ava waits until Bea’s mouth snaps closed. “I don’t want to pretend. I’ve been waiting months to kiss you, and unless you tell me otherwise, I plan on kissing you at least a hundred times a day.”

Some of the tension drains from Bea’s shoulders. “A hundred.”

“Give or take another hundred.” Ava grins. “One kiss for every time I’ve thought about kissing you the last seven months. Spread out, of course. Otherwise we’d probably be stuck in this apartment for days, just kissing.” She narrows her eyes playfully. “That might not be the worst thing to happen, though.”

“I’d miss finals,” Bea points out.

“Do you really need to pass them? Aren’t you teaching the classes at this point?”

Bea rolls her eyes, fond and exasperated. “Ava.”

“Bea.” She rolls her eyes back. “Fine. If you won’t lock yourself away to make out with me for days on end, what else are you willing to offer me?”

Bea is quiet for a long moment, her hand twisting in Ava’s as she thinks of something. Ava can see it pressing against her teeth, can practically feel the tension of whatever Bea wants to say radiating off her and lighting up the whole room. Ava waits it out patiently, knowing that whatever Bea has to say will be worth it.

She stays still. She waits. Bea has a way of bringing out all of the things in her that no one else has bothered to look for before. And after another minute, Bea looks up.

“Me.”

Ava’s heart clenches in her chest. “You.”

“I’m willing to offer me. Just… me. If you’re willing to accept.”

Ava turns Bea’s hand over in hers and presses two fingers to the thudding bundle of nerves at the base of her wrist. Bea looks down at where they meet and her eyes stay locked there for a moment while Ava watches her.

“If you think there’s anything just about you, then you don’t know the Beatrice I know,” Ava finally says. “Because I’ve never thought there was anything just about you. You always leave the light on for me. And you never make me do the dishes alone. And you don’t mind mushrooms on your pizza. You keep soda in the apartment and you always vacuum when I’m not home.”

A funny smile graces Bea’s face. “I think that makes me good for you.”

“The best,” she agrees. Her smile softens. “I’ve never thought there’s anything just about you. You’re incredibly kind, trustworthy. You’re humble - maybe too humble,” she jokes. “And considerate. And insanely intelligent. Hilarious. My best friend.” She pauses. “And I’m pretty sure you’re the love of my life.”

Bea inhales sharply.

“I know that’s, like, a lot. And I don’t need you to say it back, because I’m not trying to pressure you. But saying it all has lifted some kind of weight off my chest. Like, I didn’t know I was suffocating under not saying anything but I guess that I was,” she babbles. “But honestly, you don’t need to-”

“Ava,” Bea says patiently. She waits until Ava snaps her mouth shut and mimes zipping it closed. “My parents…”

“I’ll kill them,” Ava says cheerfully, looking guilty when Bea’s eyes cut to her. She closes her mouth again.

“My parents made me believe that love had to be earned. That if I wanted it, I had to work for it.” She takes a breath, astonishingly steady. “But you’ve never done that. You’ve never made me work for it. You’ve just… given it. It’s who you are.”

Ava’s smile wavers a little. “Because you don’t need to deserve love.”

“I didn’t know that before you.” Bea shakes her head. “I’ve had to unlearn a lot of things since meeting you. Like that. Like how to not be afraid. Like how to eat pizza. All these things that were so ingrained in who I was that I didn’t think I’d ever know anything different.” She reaches up and cups Ava’s cheek. “You changed all of that for me.”

She thinks Bea is saying I love you. She thinks Bea is saying You’re the love of my life, too.

And then Bea, spectacular Bea, looks into her eyes and says exactly that. “I love you. I’ve loved you since you spilled tea on my very important notes, and I’ve fallen in love with you every day since.”

Ava feels relief flood through her like a dam breaking. “That’s good. That’s really, really good. Because it would be embarrassing to be sitting here naked telling you how much I love you if you’re not going to say it back.”

Bea shakes her head but she’s smiling. “Ava.”

“Beatrice.” Ava curls a finger under Bea’s chin and beckons her forehead. She kisses her slowly and sweetly before she pulls back. “Kiss one of a hundred today.”

A blush spreads across Bea’s face. “You’re not really going to count, are you?”

“I’m going to keep a tally, that’s how serious I am.” She kisses Bea again. “Number two.”

Bae rolls her eyes and when Ava kisses her a third time, she opens her mouth, tongue brushing Ava’s bottom lip. It leaves her breathless when Bea pulls back.

“If I knew getting you in my room would have ended up like this, I would have tried a lot harder,” she says, eyes still closed.

Bea’s lips press against her cheek, then under her eye. “I wasn’t ready for that,” Bea whispers against her skin.

Ava doesn’t open her eyes. “I know you weren’t.”

Bea’s forehead rests against hers. “I am now.”

“It’s okay if you’re not. I won’t stop loving you.”

Bea’s breath ghosts across her mouth. “I am. I’ve never been ready for anything more in my life.”

“Not even your finals? Because you’re really ready for those, even if you think you aren’t.” She feels Bea start to argue more than she sees it, eyes still closed. “I’ve never met anyone who studies as much as you study. Seriously, you’re a beast when it comes to notecards and colored highlighters and-”

She does stop this time as Bea’s lips press against her. She hums, sinking into it. “Oh,” she says when Bea ebbs away. She finally opens her eyes.

Bea is smiling, beautiful and wide. “More than my finals. If only because I’m still not convinced of Thecla’s real contribution to modern religions.”

“I don’t know who Thecla is, but she’s never been less relevant to my interests right now.” Ava twists a strand of Bea’s hair, resting on her cheek, around her finger. “She could be Jesus’ mother for all I care.”

“She’s not-”

“I know she’s not.” Ava grins. “But I like the way you look when I say something wrong.” She presses her finger to the space between Bea’s eyes. “Like you’re not sure if you want to lecture me or kiss me. For the record, I’m very much in favor of the second option.”

Bea’s lips pull up in a slight smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Ava breathes in deeply, letting the air fill her lungs as she stretches her arms over her head, noting the way Bea’s eyes follow the lift of her chest. She smiles to herself. Maybe Bea is a boob-girl. She’ll have to weaponize that knowledge for later.

“I think I promised you stir fry.”

Bea opens her mouth to argue.

“And I’m hungry,” Ava says over her. “And can be trusted with a knife. So, I will be making you stir fry, because it’s the one thing I’m good at. And I want to impress you.”

Bea’s smile is fond, and Ava thinks back to the first time she saw it, how it was aimed at Camila and how she wished one day it would be a smile for her. And now here she is, Bea in her shirt and an I love you between them and a smile that is reserved just for her.

“So let me make you stir fry and you can come sit and study some more. In my shirt. Which, by the way, is very sexy.” She winks.

Bea rolls her eyes. “Mine was quite tangled up in the comforter, and this was just the most easily accessible.”

“You have a bedroom about a hundred feet away,” Ava feels the need to point out. Bea’s eyes narrow and Ava grins. “But for the record, I really like seeing you in it.”

Bea blushes a little but stands and opens Ava’s drawer, pulling out a pair of underwear - Ava’s favorite, yellow with pineapples on them - and then a big t-shirt she stole from Mary that has a pug with a pair of aviators on printed across the front. She hands them to Ava.

“No pants?” she asks as she pushes the comforter down and wriggles into her underwear. She pulls the t-shirt on, huffing her hair out of her face.

“No pants,” Bea says simply.

Oh. Okay. She grins and stands up, curling her hands around Bea’s waist and pulling her in. “This is going to be so good. I know it.”

Bea smiles, swaying slightly with her when Ava starts to go back and forth on her feet. “I know it too.” She presses her lips to Ava’s forehead and speaks against it. “Thank you, Ava,” she breathes.

Ava frowns. “For what?”

Bea pulls back and tucks a strand of Ava’s hair back behind her ear. “For waiting for me to be ready.”

“Of course I waited. I love you,” she says easily.

Bea’s smile widens. “I know.”

Ava beams back at her, feeling like everything has slotted into place so neatly. She never wants this moment to break, never wants it to go away. She wants to remain forever in this room with Bea in her arms and the rest of the world somewhere else doing whatever it is they’re doing. All that matters is this moment, these kisses between them, the possibility of what the next moment brings.

She can’t wait.

#THE WAIT IS OVERRRRRRR!!!!!!#sirens going off #warrior nun #forever roommates #guys this took so long i am so sorry but i hope it's worth it #rated m for mature audiences kids #there was so much to this that i didn't even know where to start but eventually we got there #everyone say thank you kay thank you kay #GUYS GUYS there is one more piece to this and it will be compleeeete #elmofire.gif #okay please like this i'm needy and hungover #i got tickets to noah kahan and i feel INVINCIBLE!

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