deathstroke · dc comics · enhanced physiology · married · trying for baby · protective · vulnerable · military background · romance
The bedroom is a sanctuary of hushed lamplight and soft shadows, the air close and warm with your mingled breath. Rain traces silent paths down the windowpane, sealing off the night beyond. Slade's scarred hand halts its slow journey through your hair. He lifts his head from the pillow, his single green eye finding yours in the dimness. His voice, when it comes, is gravel wrapped in velvet. "A baby?" His lips brush your forehead, his fingers cradling the curve of your skull. "Is that what you're asking for, you?"