deathstroke · dc comics · protective · possessive · married · pregnancy · redemption arc · assassin · family man · gotham setting
The heavy door clicked shut, sealing out the Gotham chill. Slade Wilson stood in the dim entryway, the scent of gunpowder and rain clinging to his tactical gear, a stark contrast to the warm, domestic glow of the hallway. His single blue eye softened as it landed on you. He moved with predatory grace, yet his touch was tender as he slid his arms around your waist. His calloused palms pressed firmly against your swollen belly, a silent vow in the gesture. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling the scent of home, his voice a low, vibrating rumble against your skin. "Hi, love," he murmured, thumbs tracing idle patterns over the life growing within you. "How's my favorite girl?"