grip me like an animal (that you're about to spear) - Part 1 š¶ļø
This fic is one of my (many) late @superblond-bingo prompt fills. Part 1 is for Key.
Fun fact: I challenged myself to write a PWP scene in under 5k words. Start with immediate action, don't get lost in the world building and introspection. I... did not win that challenge with myself, although I think this will be only two or three parts, in total.
Bernard's hand is shaking so hard, his keys jangle on their chibi Mothman key ring. After three tries and a few muttered curses, he finally gets the door unlocked and moves aside to let his companion enter first.
Kon takes a hesitant step into the foyer, unsure what to expect. The sound of the keys clattering onto the side table startles him slightly in the otherwise eerily quiet space.
He has about two seconds to observe the lavish penthouse while Bernard closes the door behind them.
Then a hand fists in the lapel of his tuxedo jacket, and he's roughly shoved backward. Colliding with the wall knocks a breathy oof out of him, and seeing the way his hazel eyes burn golden with bright fury immediately makes it harder to get his breath back.
"What in the actual fuck were you thinking?" Bernard snarls.
The inches of height difference between them suddenly mean nothing as his anger towers over Kon.
"Babe, IāI told you," he protests weakly, trying to pick the right words, "she was just being friendly."
Bernard scoffs, rolling his eyes like he thinks Kon is stupid. "I saw her looking at you, laughing at your jokes, touching you like she was allowed to. And don't pretend you weren't loving it, peacocking around and showing off all night."
He shoves the tuxedo jacket off Kon's shoulders and down his arms, forcing his hands to his sides. If he really tried, Kon is pretty sure he could tear it enough to get free, butā well, he doesn't want to get free, is the thing.
"Or were you showing off for me?" he continues, almost musing.
"I'm always showin' off for you, babe," Kon agrees with an easy grin. "You know that."
"You just can't help it, can you?" Bernard's voice sounds disappointed, and Kon does not make any embarassing noises about it. "Always the slut for attention, always need the validation that other people think you're worth fucking. Even when you're standing in a tuxedo with your husband, gotta make sure there's not a single soft cock or dry cunt around you, huh?"
Kon's eyes go wide at those words. He's not aā He doesn't needā not anymore, anyway, butā
"IāI didn'tā"
"So congratulations, Kon," he continues, cutting off the protests. "You got her attention, didn't you? Found someone who took one look and just knew that you were good enough to fuck."
His voice is sarcastic and condescending in a way that definitely would not get a normal person as aroused as Kon is right now.
"You're crazy," Kon huffs.
With laser-guided accuracy through his shirt, Bernard pinches one nipple and twists until Kon's breath hisses in through his teeth. Goddamn, that feels good, maybe even better than the sweet, slow touches he usually gets there.
"Crazy?" Bernard echoes. "Crazy about you, maybe. And so what if I am? So what if I go a little nuts when someone tries to take what's mine, huh?"
He keeps twisting that nipple back and forth, until Kon is pretty sure he's the one who's about to go crazy. It never gets as hard as that first pinch, but he wishes it would.
"She took one look at my husband and imagined what a big, beautiful cock he'd have, and how good he'd make her feel with it." Bernard leans in close to hiss, "She thought you'd fuck her stupid, didn't she? Thought you'd take every troubling thought and pound it out of her silly little head."
Teeth close around the pointed tip of Kon's ear in a testing nip. He gasps at the sharpness of it, his whole body twitching while he feels himself getting hard already. Fuck, he really is too easy for this ā already a shuddering mess from a few pinches and one little bite.
And from theā the words, maybe. Maybe he's also easy for the mean, cutting words Bernard is saying. Or the condescension dripping from his tongue.
Bernard pauses, waiting for a reaction.
After another shaking breath, Kon nods minutely, and feels the shape of a smile form against his cheek. Then it drops, as Bernard remembers what he was saying.
"But she has no idea," he says, dark and husky and right up against Kon's ear. He palms the front of Kon's slacks, feeling him already half hard and swelling. "That this big, beautiful cock doesn't do the fucking, does it? That it's your silly little head, and me pounding away until the only thought left is that you belong to me."
Kon melts against the wall, feeling weak-kneed like he often does around Bernard. Only he doesn't just feel weak in the knees ā he's actually having trouble standing, his body putting way more effort into enjoying the touch than maintaining stability.
The palm on his crotch goes stiff and clawing, a firm grip that keeps his balls in place as the rest of him slips down. There's the pleasure of being touched there, but also a deep ache, like a fresh bruise.
Bernard's touch never hurts. It's new and maybe a little scary, but only insofar as it's fucking thrilling.
When he tilts his hips down to increase that pleasurable ache, he instead gets a jolt of surprising pain arcing up through his gut. It has him instinctively jerking upright with a sharp gasp.
Bernard grins in response, smug and mean. It makes his dick twitch so violently he feels it up to his sternum.
"Oh, I like that," he murmurs. "Maybe if I lead you around by the ballsā" He gives a light tug toward himself. "āyou'll remember how to behave, and not attract unwanted attention from horny strangers."
The tug is gentle, just enough for that pleasurable ache. It's still enough that Kon immediately lifts his hips to avoid reaching the next level of pain.
"Fuck, I didn't know you had such a mean streak," he pants. "It's fuckin' hot."
"I treat you nice because I thought you were good," Bernard counters. "If I'd known you still needed the whore knocked out of you, maybe I would've been meaner all this time, and maybe then I wouldn't have to wonder whether you know who you belong to."
His words are hard, but his face is gentle. Gentle like Bernard always is when he looks at him.
Bernard hopes Kon knows what he really means by that. He works so hard to touch this beautiful, delicate man with kindness and love. His Kon, his gentle giant ā he's been hurt by so many people, and never lashes out in kind.
Tonight, though, Kon's brought out a darkness in him. And it's what he wants. Kon must want to see this side of him, otherwise he wouldn't be saying things likeā
"Sh-she was just being friendly."
Face going as hard as his words, Bernard snaps "I'll show you 'friendly'."
He yanks Kon forward by the waistband, then just as quickly puts both hands to his chest and shoves him away, just for the pleasure of hearing his broad shoulders thunk against the wall. He does it a second time, for the indescribable thrill of watching his eyes go heavy and soft for it.
Fuck, he really does want to get roughed up tonight.
The realization hardens his resolve and his cock.
"We're going to the bedroom now."
Kon nods a little stupidly in agreement, but it doesn't really matter what he thinks of this plan. With both hands crumpling his starched white shirt, Bernard steers him through the penthouse.
They both know this place well enough to navigate it in the dark, but as Kon is marched backwards down the hall, he nearly trips over his own feet. Bernard drinks in the way this is pushing Kon off center, his normal confidence replaced with all the poise of a newborn fawn.
He pauses once in the hallway to shove him against another wall ā he gets a soft "Oof" that makes him stay there for a moment to messily kiss Kon's slack mouth ā but they otherwise make it without any collisions.
When Kon is visibly surprised to find himself passing through the bedroom door, too out of it to track where he is, it sends a warm zing of pleasure through Bernard's gut. Even like this, even asking for the darker side he knows Bernard keeps hidden, Kon trusted him when he couldn't find his way alone.
Bernard wants to tear his fucking clothes off.
The urge is so strong, he gives into it without questioning whether he's strong enough. It ends up taking two tugs, but that's twice that he gets to hear Kon's sexy little grunts of surprise as his dress shirt is forcibly ripped open.
He leaves the cuffs tightly buttoned and pulls the rest of the shirt down to act as arm restraints, same as he had with the tuxedo jacket. It occurs to him that he's never really had Kon tied up before, which suddenly seems an incredible waste.
Kon is just so pretty, he pauses to think, and delightfully stupid, the way he always gets when he's desperate to be fucked. He's squirming a bit and trying to wriggle his shirt off, still not understanding that Bernard meant for him to be at a disadvantage.
"Need something?" he asks, trying to sound unimpressed. It's difficult, because the torso on display for him isā¦ well, it's impressive, to say the least.
"I, umā" Kon flushes, and Bernard wants to bite the pink apple of his cheek for it. "I think I'm stuck."
"Good," Bernard spits harshly. "That should keep you here, where you belong, instead of going out just to be a cocktease."
"Whaā Hey, I didn'tā!"
Before he can get a single indignant protest out, Bernard has Kon's fly open and yanks the slacks and boxer briefs alike down around his ankles.
Kon wavers slightly, darting a hand out to catch Bernard's shoulder. He makes a cute little yelping sound as he recovers balance, and Bernard desperately wants to know if he'll make that sound again when he's getting bounced off the headboard.
"Clumsy," he comments mildly, stepping out of Kon's reach.
"Shut up, you know I'm justā"
"Just using all your blood to keep your dick hard?" he says with a sneer. "I noticed."
Apparently he hadn't, as he looks down at his fully hard dick in surprise.
It isn't that Kon didn't know he was turned on, so much as he wasn't really focusing on his own body the way he usually does. Bernard just keeps getting in his head so fast his mind is spinning.
Being accused like this ā of being a tease, of wanting attention, of specifically wanting attention so he knows people want to fuck him ā isn't entirely new to him, but this is the first time it's ever come from Bernard.
It should be embarrassing, to hear these things, and maybe it is, in some ways. He's never cared what someone thought about him as much as he cares what Bernard thinks about him. He's been wanting to impress Bernard since the first time they'd ever met, wanting to hide all of his flaws and fuck-ups, and yeah, maybe also hide the occasional ho phases he'd had before they'd met.
Hearing that Bernard has always known ā it's doing something to Kon's brain, this new idea that his husband has always known. He can see how much he wants to be wanted, how buzzy it makes his brain to know that other people see him and want him.
So maybe it's a little bit embarrassing, being called out for the little ways he flirts and preens for others, and maybe it should hurt his feelings a little bit, too, butā¦
But there's so much heat in Bernard's eyes when he's saying these mean things to him. Like even though those things are bad, he still likes it when Kon does the bad things, even if it's just an excuse to be mean about it.
Besides, his hands are kind of stuck at his sides, and his pants would make it kind of hard to walk, too, soā¦ Bernard is already partway to just keeping him stuck here, if that's what he really wanted.
If he wanted Kon so badly that he'd keep him locked away from everyone else.
Given half a second to think all that, it really isn't surprising at all that his cock is hard and leaking after barely being touched.
Kon swallows hard and tries to find something to say in his own defense, but all that comes out is a strangled, moaning, "Please."
"Please?" Bernard echoes, incredulous. "Do you even know what you're asking for?"
"Iā"
No. No, he does not know what he's asking for. To be touched, mostly. For Bernard to keep saying those awful, delicious things about him, maybe.
"Anything," he rasps after a moment.
Bernard laughs, short and harsh. "'Anything,' he says. Isn't that always the way with you? Anything, as long as someone is paying attention to you. Well here, you should really like this."
He strides to the floor-to-ceiling window of their bedroom and throws the drapes wide, then turns to crook a finger. Feeling clumsy and foolish, Kon shuffles over to him.
He's rewarded almost at once with a soft hand firmly gripping his cock in a long, slow stroke. The moan that breaks out of him is low and cracked.
"Imagine how many people might be paying attention to you right now," Bernard says mock-thoughtfully, nodding to the open slice of Gotham just outside the window.
Kon feels himself go hot all over. This isā They live among other tall, old buildings. There are windows directly across, and all up and down the street that might have a clear view into their bedroom right now.
The lower level windows are protected from prying eyes after dark by the glare of city lights. Here in the penthouse, they're above most of that. Up so high, he isn't sure how clearly the people he can see in those other lit windows ā or the people he can't see in the dark ones ā can see in at him. It comes down to whether the dim, cool light in their bedroom is enough to illuminate his humiliation like a fish tank.
"How many eyes do you think are watching you right now?" He squeezes just hard enough to get a surprised moan, louder than Kon meant, then drops his hand back to his side. "It still isn't enough, is it? How many eyes would be enough, Kon? How many people need to see you for the whore you are? How many before you're wanted enough to be happy?"
Fucking around in front of the wide window might have been something he'd have fun with in another circumstance. He does like to show off, and he doesn't try particularly hard to make sure the drapes are drawn when he's walking around in a towel after the shower. If someone sees him, he isn't bothered, and if they like what they seeā¦
Well, if he likes thinking they'd like what they'd see, that's a secret Kon keeps to himself.
Except, somehow, Bernard knows too.
Kon doesn't think he likes being on display by the window right now. He feels disheveled, standing there with his pants around his ankles, and his shirt still caught on his wrists. He feels oafish and not as attractive as he likes to be when people are looking at him.
"Can I, umā¦" Kon wiggles one foot still in its dress shoe, and almost topples for his trouble. "Can I take these all the way off?"
"No," Bernard says instantly. "If you take them off now, it'll just take you longer to get dressed and leave when I'm done with you."
"Whadda youā"
Bernard scoffs and rolls his eyes, which he's seen launched in someone else's direction a hundred times and thought it was sexy in a sassy way. But directed at him, it feels like hot acid, eating through his armor.
But still sexy, however that works.
"Did you think I was letting you stay here tonight?" He shakes his head like Kon is a simple fool. "Find someone else to pay you that much attention. I keep things in my home when they belong to me. Not when they wander around parties, looking for someone to sneak off to the shadows with."
He probably shouldn't be getting insanely turned on by this. Like, he's aware that it isn't normal to think it's hot when his husband threatens to throw him out for doing literally nothing wrong.
It's just that it's so, so fucking hot.
He wants to be a thing Bernard thinks is worth keeping at home. His most treasured possession. He knows how easy it would be to be worth that. Knows exactly the words he'd have to say to bring back his normal Bernard.
His normal Bernard, who touches him with soft hands and looks at him with soft eyes and speaks to him with soft words. Normal Bernard, who treasures Kon above anything else in this penthouse. Who is in love with him and obsessed with him in equal measure, who wants nothing more than to be with him always and would never send him away out of spite.
It would be so easy to get that Bernard back.
But that isn't what Kon wants.
He wants this Bernard to want him too, wants every version of Bernard to be obsessed with him.
"Shā"
Kon tries to speak, but his throat is so dry, his vocal cords stick together. He's never felt like this with Bernard before, like his body and mind have both forgotten how to work. He feels weak and dumb, when he's usually the sturdy, stable one.
"She was just being friendly," he manages to get out.
An ambulance screams past below them, and Kon can see the sharp gold in Bernard's eyes again in the reflection of emergency lights.
"Is your new mistress from this evening out there?" he hisses, one hand grabbing Kon's jaw so hard it makes his teeth hurt. "Did you recognize her from her window? Are you hoping she glances up to watch you?"
"N-no," he gasps, stunned at the accusation.
"Why don't you want her to see you like this? Isn't this exactly what you wanted, while you were slutting it up with her all evening?"
"Please, Iā" Kon pauses to think, licking his lips to buy just aā just a second to get his thoughts in order. His breathing is ragged, and he feels so confused aboutā about everything.
About who that woman is and what Bernard thinks he did with her. About how he feels embarrassed and exposed while getting the attention he likes but also feels safe and loved being spoken to like this by Bernard of all people. About how good it feels to have his touch hurt like it's never hurt before, and know that every part of Bernard is just as obsessed with Kon as Kon is with him.
A loud, wet sniff is when he realizes that his eyes are getting weepy, and then he's confused about why he's crying when this is exactly what he'd asked for ā and then he's worried that Bernard will misunderstand his tears and think that Kon doesn't like this.
"You don't even know what you want anymore, do you, Kon?" Bernard asks, releasing his jaw to softly pet a thumb over his cheek.
Bernard coos little shushing sounds and places both hands on Kon's cheeks, guiding him forward to rest his forhead against his shoulder. Kon should have known better than to doubt he would understand the mess inside his head.
One hand stays firm and sweet on his face, while the other drops to stroke Kon's cock with a loose grip that feels like cool velvet. This is how he normally gets touched, with these gentle, teasing touches that build and build until he's right on the edge and begging to be taken over.
"Does this feel nice?" Bernard asks in a voice that doesn't sound like it's as soft as he's pretending it is. "Is this the kind of attention you were hoping for tonight?"
He nods into the shoulder supporting his head. "It'sā¦s'really good."
"I can tell from how hard you are for it," he agrees. "So much blood right here, I bet every thought is just dripping out of that pretty head of yours."
He pets sweetly across Kon's cheek just as he puts a rough twist at the head of his dick, which Kon is pretty sure a guy isn't supposed to like as much as he does. It definitely hurts, but it also definitely, definitely sends his adrenaline sky-high with how weirdly good it feels.
Not good like he could come from it, but still good like he doesn't want Bernard to stop.
"Are you still thinking about her?"
"No," he whispers, flinching at the next twist to his cockhead. "No, I swear."
The last word comes out almost a sob into Bernard's shoulder, and he gets the tiniest little kiss on his temple.
He thinks that means approval. He hopes it does, anyway.
"That's all I've ever wanted from you, Kon," Bernard says quietly, still in that soft-but-not-really way. "Just my perfect, beautiful husband. All mine, with his hard cock and his tight hole and his empty head. Not a single thought in your head that I didn't put there. Is that really so much to ask?"
It's a trap, that question, he's pretty sure, but he can't figure out how.
He can't figure out how, because there isn't a single thought in his head that Bernard didn't put there.
He reads for a while longer, before stopping on a particularly vibrant entry that glows pink, yellow, and blue light through his dark bedroom. He reads that entry several,Ā SEVERAL times.
so fun fact I had to do at least ONE thing for @superblond-bingo ( will I finish any of the other things I sketched at some point? who knows!! definitely not before the event is technically over!! ), so we're getting this in on the last day but STILL COUNTS, haha.
but anyway, yeah, going with fanart for @coconutjelly's Think Pink AU ( specifically Crisis, if we want to be PRECISE here ) seemed like the most appropriate option. if nothing else it just felt like fanart for that fic would work REAL well for the "guess who's trending?" prompt.
( yes I'm aware I did not illustrate the part of the fic that involved Kon LITERALLY trending but needs must, friends. )
idk, this may not be quite Superblond-focused enough, but also Kon is definitely not googling pride flags because it just spontaneously occurred to him as a thing he could do with his time and Bernard WAS the one who insisted on introducing him to the concept.
As of July 15, Superblond Bingo has reached its completely-made-up and extremely-unserious deadline.
we set this up because it's hard to look at the Kon/Bernard tags without thinking, "Shouldn't there beā¦ more???" and hot damn, this fandom delivered over the past month!
That said, the end date is and always was arbitrary!
If you're halfway through a prompt (or two, or eight (don't judge me)), keep going. Don't let social constructs like "calendars" hold you back if inspiration hits in mid-August.
And if your executive function took a look at the deadline, laughed, and wandered into the woods, the prompts will still be here when those obstinate bastards get back with their iced coffees.
We'll be keeping the AO3 collection open, and we'll absolutely keep reblogging and adding late fills - just make sure to tag @superblond-bingo so we see it!
I (coconutjelly) also want to do a proper wrap-up post once I have the spoons to go through everything and count up contributions, so we can see just how many creations came of everyone's participation! Maybe some stats about which prompts/cards were most popular, maybe even links by prompt as a kind of directory? Again...it'll depend on spoon inventory (but I'd love to know what kind of stats you'd be interested in seeing!).
Mostly, though, we just want to say thank you.
This was a tiny fandom event for a rarepair ship so small, it could best be described as "the door at the end of Titanic".
Seeing people get excited, go wild in the tags, take a stab at new tropes and topics, discover new creators, and even a few who have newly discovered Superblond because of this challenge -- it's all the kind of incredibly special experience that only happens within fandom.
The goal was to simply end the month with more Superblond content than we started with.
Itās days like this where Kon seriously considers quitting the whole hero thing. Yeah yeah, the jobās important and he does a lot of good, but when a rogue magician decides to throw a tantrum and drop him out of the sky? Itās enough to make him want to quit. Sure Bart caught him, and sure Zatanna said the block on his powers would wear off in a day or two, but it doesnāt make the situation any more fun.
Maybe he should just learn magic to fix it himself. He probably could, he thinks. Kal and Kara have never mentioned if Kryptonians can, but heās half human so it should work, right? If he tells the team itās for tactical purposes he might even be able to convince them to learn with him. Cassie already knows a bit, heās pretty sure, and she uses magical artifacts. Maybe she can teach them.
The point is, he wishes he could do something about what the gold-robed idiot did to him. Not having superstrength is fine, and he could live without superspeed, but being grounded? That sucks. He never realised how strong gravity really felt until he felt it take hold, dragging him out of the sky.
The lack of senses is worse. Kon is used to standing in the centre of a well of TTK, to having a 3D map of the world around him at all times. With TTK he could walk through the world deaf and blind and still find his way, still know that the neighbour in the apartment above is pacing on a phone call, and the one to his left is in bed with a cough. He should be able to feel the movement of the elevator rising and falling, the whipping of the ribbon that is still attached to the air vent of their bedroom as air rushes past it. He hates feeling so lost.
Heās never felt this anxious before. Life threatening missions are one thing -he doesnāt have time to stew in his thoughts during those- but something like this where he has time to imagine everything that could be going wrong? Itās awful. He wishes he could hear Bernardās heartbeat. He wishes he could smell him, even just the lingering scent that should be clear as day in the apartment. He can catch hints of it in their sheets, the slightest trace of his skin, but itās nowhere near the overwhelming cloud that it should be. If his senses were working normally heād be able to follow Bernardās scent through the halls and down the street to find him. He should be drowning in him, laying in their bed as he is. Itās all so wrong.
He should be able to hear Bernard. He should be able to feel him, to see him from here if he uses his x-ray vision. Konās stomach rolls, his heart pounding just a bit too fast. He hates this so, so much.Ā
His phone buzzes and Kon pounces on it, hoping for an update from the League, but itās just a spam email from an app heās never used claiming he owes them money. He deletes it without further thought and checks the time, dropping his head back onto the pillow with a groan when he realises that itās barely past 11. Why does time slow down so much when you want it to go faster?
A thought crosses his mind and Kon fidgets uncomfortably. He wondersā¦
Bernard will be finishing his first lecture of the day soon, before having lunch and working with a study group until his afternoon lecture session. If he leaves now he can probably get to campus by the time his class finishes and hang out with Bear for lunch. He could bring him a snack, or maybe a coffee as an excuse. Yeah! Thatād work! He justā¦ isnāt sure whether Bernard will want him there. Kon finds himself listening some days, when there isnāt much happening with the team, and heās never heard Bernard talk about him to his university friends so maybe he doesnāt want them to know about him. He doesnāt think Bernardās in the closet anymore; he knows he signed up for the LGBTIA+ alliance at the university and he wouldnāt have done that if he wanted to keep it a secret, surely. So itāll probably be fine. Kon can just drop in, give him his coffee and run. Bernard can tell his friends Konās a delivery driver if he wants, just as long as he gets to see him.Ā
Kon hauls himself out of bed before he can second guess himself anymore, shrugging on his jacket, grabbing his normal-civilian disguise glasses, and snagging his keys from the hook beside the door. He smiles at the El-crest shield on the tag, remembering how touched heād been when Bernard gave it to him, and heads out.
Itās a longer walk than he remembers, but that's probably because heās only ever walked to the campus with Bernard at his side, and the constant stream of theories, gossip and opinions from his boyfriend makes time fly. He could listen to Bernard talk for hours, and often does. Heās never more beautiful than when heās passionate about something, and the light in his eyes when he explains something that makes absolutely no sense to Kon is a sight he cherishes.
He stops into a cafe just a block away, snagging one of Bernardās favourite muffins on the way through, and makes his way onto campus. It looks so different from down on the ground and in the time it takes him to find the correct lecture hall, students have already begun steaming out of the building. Kon spots the familiar head of gleaming golden hair splitting off from the crowd with a gaggle of other students and his heart leaps.
āBear!ā
Bernard looks over, clearly startled, and Kon feels even better when he sees the broad smile that sweeps across his face. He jogs across the grassy courtyard, grinning, and is gratified when his boyfriend meets him halfway.
āHey,ā Bernard greets, stretching up to brush a kiss against Konās cheek. āWas I expecting you?ā
Kon flushes with embarrassment, rubbing the back of his neck. āNo,ā he admits. āBut I missed you and I thought it might be nice if I bought you a snack.ā He offers the coffee cup and bag to Bernard and he takes them, a soft smile on his face. Rao, heās even more beautiful every time Kon sees him. He wants to sweep him off his feet and kiss every freckle on his face. Unfortunately though, the rest of the group choose that moment to appear at his side.
āSo, Bear,ā says one of the women teasingly, āis this who I think it is?ā
Bernard blushes, ducking under Konās arm as he takes a sip of his drink. āYes,ā he says shyly. āThis is my boyfriend, Connor. Kon, these are my group mates for biology.ā
āOuch,ā one of the men says, arching an eyebrow at Bernard. āDemoted from friends to group mates.ā
Bernard shrugs, nestling closer into Konās side. It feels so good to have him within arms reach again, to be able to feel the heat radiating off his skin. Kon feels more settled than he has all day just from this. He wishes he could stay by Bearās side until theyāre home again, but he knows he canāt. The professors here might be nice enough, but he doubts theyāre lenient enough to let strangers sit in on classes.
āYouāll be my friend again when you send through your slides,ā his wonderful boyfriend says tartly, and the group laughs, even the offended classmate grinning along.
āYou staying for lunch babe?ā Bernard asks, threading his fingers through Konās own, and what can he do but agree? If he spends the entirety of lunch and their study group enjoying watching him in his element before he has to leave, well thatās his business. Bernard gives him another quick kiss before he leaves and Kon decides that even when his powers return, heās going to do this again.
Possessive Bernardā¦I donāt know if I prefer him being possessive over Tim or kon
For Timās itās funny
For kon itās a crisis
Got this req from a couple of anons and @bestrobinevr!
Superblond Bingo smut fill for "Dom/Sub". This was meant to be a very straightforward PWP that stayed under 5k, literally just to see if I could do it. The answer (for this attempt at least) is a resounding no š
Essentially, Kon and Bernard play (a game?) in which Bernard gets jealous over his husband flirting with an unnamed woman at a society event. When they get home, Bernard decides to teach Kon a lesson about who he belongs to.
"You're crazy," Kon huffs.
With laser-guided accuracy through his shirt, Bernard pinches one nipple and twists until Kon's breath hisses in through his teeth. Goddamn, that feels good, maybe even better than the sweet, slow touches he usually gets there.
"Crazy?" Bernard echoes. "Crazy about you, maybe. And so what if I am? So what if I go a little nuts when someone tries to take what's mine, huh?"
He keeps twisting that nipple back and forth, until Kon is pretty sure he's the one who's about to go crazy. It never gets as hard as that first pinch, but he wishes it would.
"She took one look at my husband and imagined what a big, beautiful cock he'd have, and how good he'd make her feel with it." Bernard leans in close to his ear. "She thought you'd fuck her stupid, didn't she? Thought you'd take every troubling thought and pound it out of her silly little head."
Teeth close around the pointed tip of Kon's ear in a testing nip. He gasps at the sharpness of it, his whole body twitching while he feels himself getting hard already. Fuck, he really is too easy for this ā already a shuddering mess from a pinched nipple and one little bite on his ear.
"But she has no idea," Bernard continues, dark and husky and right up against Kon's ear. He palms the front of Kon's slacks, feeling him already half hard and swelling. "That this big, beautiful cock doesn't do the fucking, does it? That it's your silly little head, and me pounding away until the only thought left is that you belong to me."
This section is another prompt fill for Superblond Bingo!!
The prompt is high school
wip: superblond omegaverse 70
non-chrono | chrono
Yeah, he's fucked.
He is so fucking fucked.
So deeply, utterly, dangerously, fate-worse-than-death-ly fucked.
What maybe makes how fucking fucked he is worse, is that he's been fucked for weeks. For twenty-two days, to be specific.
Twenty-two days ago, he'd come over to check on Tim, and nearly felt his eyes cross on the way down the stairs when he caught the first whiff.
At the time, it brought to mind any one of a hundred hot summer nights in his high school years, when the sidewalks would sizzle with the dust of the day, and the lightning of a distant storm withheld the relief of its rain from the citizens of the city below. When signs of life felt syrupy-still from a heavy heat that suppresses even the endless chatter and laughter, gunshots and sirens that make up the beating heart of Gotham.
He would go out looking for adventure or for danger on nights like that ā sometimes with others, but by himself more and more often over the years. He'd explore the sewers or hide in an alley with a camera, waiting to find evidence of what was going on beneath the facade of his city.
Secondary genders had barely mattered back then ā he'd presented as alpha, Tim as omega, and Darla as beta. He'd been vaguely aware of Tim's unnatural grace and omegaline beauty, but not in any way that had really mattered. Ideas of sex and mates and pups were so far away from their lives, their secondary genders had been as meaningless as their primaries when it came to their comraderie.
Before he had really learned who he wanted to be, those nights had been what shaped him. Later on, on his own, those same nights had threatened to unmake him.
And then he'd walked straight into a scent that's an exact snapshot of any one of those nights. The only difference is that this scent is dipped in boiling sugar and preserved in a delicate glaze of clear sweetness that begs him to crack it between his teeth.
His instinctive response upon entering the houseboat ā mine he's mine give him to me ā was so ridiculous, he'd buried it at once.
Instinct can be powerful, but that doesn't mean his idiot alpha is always right. Or even mostly ever right. How many heat orgies had he attended, each one dedicated to a god of fertility, his alpha salivating at the consequences in a way he himself never would? The question of how many litters he's seeded without knowing is one he tries not to consider too often.
So the way his alpha is crowing over this omega ā so strong, so powerful ā sleeping fitfully in his arms between heat waves ā he'll be able to carry so many pups ā and already associating him with the concepts of mine and mate ā they'll never be as safe as they were growing in their mama ā isn't the first time his alpha has pushed an agenda of objectively terrible plans ā just have to breed him full first.
Generally, he takes anything his alpha says with a grain of salt. It's part of his brain that didn't evolve for the modern world. Its entire scope of tools is basically feeding, fighting, or fucking issues away, so it mostly doesn't know what the hell it's talking about. At least not when Bernard is facing a real-life problem.
But Konā¦ Kon doesn't feel like a problem to be solved ā the problem is he isn't mine yet ā he feels more like the solution he's been lacking ā the solution is teeth and as many knots as it takes for him to be fat and happy with pups ā and his alpha has some very strong and very stupid opinions on the matter.
A younger version of him might have been more reckless ā made a dramatic declaration about finding his mate, or demanded that he be allowed to be pack with both of them ā but that version of him died a long time ago, and this version of him isn't willing to do that to Tim.
I'm gonna be real honest with you though, I'm not gonna have all my entries done by then š¤·š»āāļø So I'd say keep posting as long as you feel like it, and keep tagging the challenge blog š
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Superboy (Comics)
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Bernard Dowd/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Amanda Spence & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Characters: Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bernard Dowd, Amanda Spence
Additional Tags: Established Relationship, Partially Canon Compliant, Past Character Death, Angst, Kon-El | Conner Kent Needs a Hug, Protective Kon-El | Conner Kent, Kon-El | Conner Kent Loves Bernard Dowd, Bernard Dowd Loves Kon-El | Conner Kent
Summary:
She shouldnāt beā sheās dead. Amanda Spence is dead.
Someone Kon had long since buried pays him a visit.
Bernard knows Kon has to be Superboy, but he just can't see it. Feat: the hypno glasses from Superman 2025
Read it below or in the AO3 collection here :)
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Bernard is pretty sure heās the only actual civilian in his friend group. When heād reconnected with Tim heād had no one but the Children of Dionysus, not a single old school friend who would even remember his name. Tim changed all of that. It had taken a few months, but once the cult had been dismantled and Bernard had recovered enough to leave the house āif only for short stretches of timeā Tim had started introducing him to everyone he knows, or at least thatās how it felt.
First it was Stephanie and Cass, who are hilarious and fantastic for shopping with, then Dick, who makes even worse puns than he does, then Damian and Jason, who are great company. Once Bernard steers the conversation to the correct topics he can debate with them for hours and thereās nothing as satisfying as watching their faces go so red theyāre almost purple. Tim seems to enjoy it too, keeping a tally of wins and losses.
And then itās Timās friends, one by one. Tam is a force of nature who snarks at Tim with well-earned exasperation and Darcy is close to the top of his list of favourite people, but even her position has been toppled by the trio Tim brought him to meet last.Ā
Theyāre definitely members of Young Justice. Like, not even slightly can Bernard convince himself that theyāre not. Heās not stupid, he just pretends to be. In any case, he doesnāt need to be Batman to work out that the girl who looks more-or-less identical to Wonder Girl and has a penchant for wearing star motifs actually is Wonder Girl. Being introduced to her by Robin (not that Tim knows heās aware of his vigilante identity) doesnāt exactly help with plausible deniability. Bart is a little less obvious, in that he has a costume that covers some part of his face, but he still isnāt subtle. Sometimes when Bernardās back is turned he can feel the rush of displaced air or hear Bartās voice speed up until itās almost unintelligible. Tim and Cassie are always careful to distract him when that happens, and so Bernard can say sincerely that heās never seen Bart use superspeed. It doesnāt mean he doesnāt know itās happening but again, plausible deniability.Ā
Itās Connor who confuses him. Looking at the lineup of Young Justice members makes it pretty clear who he should be, but Bernard canāt make it work in his mind. Unless he has some sort of shapeshifting ability he has to be Superboy: thereās no other option. But they just donāt match up. No matter how many times Bernard pulls up photos of Superboy he canāt make it fit.Ā
Connor (who snorts when he calls him by his full name and says he prefers Kon) has muscles like a prized bull. He has black hair and tanned skin and a laugh that sends butterflies fluttering in Bernardās stomach. He wears a black leather jacket and a single gold earring and these are all things he knows Kon has in common with Superboy but somehow he still canāt quite imagine it. After three weeks of going mildly insane, Bernard decided it has to be some sort of magic and started reinvestigating rumors that link Batman to an ancient coven of Gotham-based Vampires. Heās hasnāt gotten very far, but at least it keeps his mind off things, and itās imperative that he does, because Kon invited him on their first date shortly after and Bernard canāt afford to spiral and fuck up the best relationship heās had in his life.Ā
Today the five of them are in a field in the middle of nowhere after an hour-long car ride that Bart had refused to join them for. His excuse had been that heād get someone to drop him off, but Bernard would bet his entire savings that heād just run there a few seconds before they arrived to set up. He doesnāt mind the white lie; Tim makes worse excuses all the time.Ā
Their picnic blanket is arranged beneath the shade of an old tree, its canopy shading them from the worst of the midday sun. Kon leans against the trunk and Bernard lounges back against him, head pillowed by his thigh. Somewhere to his right Tim, Cassie and Bart are arguing about the order in which you should add toppings to scones (which has an obvious right answer, in his opinion) but Bernard canāt bring himself to pay attention. Heās in heaven, staring up at Konās face while his boyfriend plays with his hair.Ā
He still canāt see Kon as Superboy. All the evidence says he is, and Bernard believes it with his whole heart, but he just canāt make the images align. He reaches up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind Kon's ear and marvels at the fact that he's allowed to get so close. Like obviously Bernard isn't a physical threat to him; even if he's wrong and Kon isn't Superboy, he's still buff enough to snap Bernard in half. Which isā¦ a mental picture he now has in his mind. But itās just nice to be trusted like this. He hopes what heās about to do wonāt shatter that.
Kon wears his glasses all the time; round sunglasses when outside and a chunky framed set of standard lenses when theyāre inside. Despite that, Bernard has never seen him take them off to swap between them or even to clean away a smudge. He always ducks away, excusing himself to the bathroom or pointing out something to distract Bernard so heās not looking in the right direction when he switches pairs. It niggles at his brain and brings up a theory heād considered when they first met, one he is determined to test.Ā
It could be shapeshifting. It could be. But Bernard is sure it isnāt. Shapeshifting wouldnāt give him a migraine when he tries to compare Kon and Superboy for too long. It wouldnāt leave his mind see-sawing between being certain theyāre the same and certain theyāre not. So heās going to test it. He cups Konās cheek, revelling in the way he gazes down at him, and snatches the glasses from his face.Ā
Konās face blurs, an array of tiny changes asserting themselves in an instant. Itās not that big of a difference, not really. Bernardās pretty sure the effect they cause is more about not letting people make the connection than actually changing what they see. His ears are a smidge more pointed, jaw and cheeks a little more sharp. Theyāre still within the realm of human physiology: he might assume minor cosmetic surgery if theyād passed each other on the street, but more than likely he wouldnāt have looked twice. But Konās eyes are different.
Conner Kent has blue eyes the colour of the sky on a cloudless day. Theyāre vibrant and gorgeous and entirely human. Superboyās āwhatever his Kryptonian name is, if he even has oneā are not. Superboyās eyes are a colour heās only seen in paints, in computer graphics, in the brightest birds and flowers in the world. Theyāre blue, but not like any other blue eyes heās ever seen. They fluoresce under the sunlight, almost glowing with vibrant colour. Bernard drowns in them.
Long black lashes blink, obscuring his view, and Bernard comes back to reality with a jolt. Heās still laying on the picnic blanket, the glasses in his hand, and everyone is staring at him. Tim is on his feet, lunch discarded in the grass beside him. Cassie and Bart are frozen mid wrestling match, faces pale. Kon himself is completely still, face stricken. Bernard caresses his cheek with a wry smile.Ā
āThought so,ā he says, and tucks the glasses into Konās shirt collar, adjusting his position just a smidge until heās more comfortably positioned in Konās lap. āDonāt worry, I know how to keep my mouth shut. I worked Tim out in high school.ā
An outraged squawk comes from beside him, too-fast chatter and surprised laughter joining the choir, but Bernard doesnāt bother looking for his friends' reactions. Konās face is an absolute picture; disbelieving joy replacing fear, and Bernard feels the sun rising in his heart. He closes his eyes with a content sigh, settling in happily. Itās nice to get an answer to a mystery. Ā Ā
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
The Bargain (2330 words) by FractalFlowers
Chapters: 1/?
Fandom: DCU, Batman - All Media Types
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent, tim drake & bernard dowd, Bernard Dowd/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Characters: Kon-El | Conner Kent, Bernard Dowd, Tim Drake (DCU), Dionysus (DCU)
Additional Tags: Bernard Dowd-centric, Bernard Dowd Knows Tim Drake is Robin, Tim Drake Loves Bernard Dowd, Bernard Dowd Needs a Hug, Possession, Aftermath of Possession, Solitary Confinement, Imprisonment, POV Kon-El | Conner Kent, Kon-El | Conner Kent Loves Bernard Dowd, Trust, Loss of Trust, Magical Bond, Tim Drake is Robin (DCU), Tim Drake is Not Okay (DCU), Bernard Dowd is not okay, Cult Trauma, Religious Cults, Bernard Dowd Loves Kon-El | Conner Kent, Hurt Bernard Dowd, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Mental CoercionĀ
Summary
The Children of Dionysus fail, their ritual disrupted and the cult scattered. The Children of Dionysus succeed, their god brought to the mortal plane in the body of their chosen sacrifice, Bernard Dowd. Kon has no idea why heās been called in to help with this, but Robin insists that it has to be him.
_
āSo why am I here?ā Kon asks. He feels like itās a reasonable question given that he got called away from Maās apple pie to deal with whatever the hell is happening. āYou know I canāt do squat about magic, Rob.ā
Robin looks pained, taking a deliberately deep breath to calm himself. He rubs his forehead again, mask creasing as he squints.Ā
āI know,ā he bites out. āBut Dionysus has taken an interest in you. We didnāt think he could access Bernardās memories at first but he knows things he shouldnāt. He knows Bernard was fascinated by you and now heās interested too.ā
Ahh Is there still enough time left for another one?!?!?!
For @superblond-bingo card #3 "Come Back to Bed" I drew Bernard taking a selfie to get Kon, well, back to bed! Featuring a ridiculously oversized t-shirt, a Robin pop socket, freckles and a soft slightly sunburnt belly!
I've picked up some pencils for the first time in about 10 years and a big part of it was cause I love seeing the artwork people create in this community and it's been loads of fun learning to draw again ā¤ļø
Shameless plug but this drawing is a total tie in to the fic I wrote "It's a Superboy Thing" also for Superblond Bingo.
P.S. Please be gentle, I'm really loving drawing again and I'm trying my best with what I have š
Baker!Bernard asleep in his bed when his bedroom door crashes open. The thick wood bounces off the wall, scraping back across the floor to almost obscure the figure standing there as Bernard sits up like a shot. Chest heaving, Bernard recognizes Knight!Kon's figure, but just barely.
He only holds superficial resemblance to the man he had sent off with a chaste kiss over a fortnight ago. His eyes are wild, pupils blown, blood splattering his face and the surcoat of his psuedofather, King Luthor.
Bernard scooches towards the edge of the bed, letting his feet rest on the floor, ready to push himself to stand if Kon were to back away. Kon doesn't let him, crossing the room and crashing to his knees between Bernard's legs. He nuzzles into Bernard's thigh, blood still fresh enough to smear against the other mans white sleepshirt, closing his eyes when Bernard's shaking hand comes to cup his face.
The pristine fabric ruined by the evidence of the violence Bernard is intimately familiar with, though this time made by forces he can't comprehend.
