#trans reader insert

“What are you?” Joel gruffs as you’re shoveling snow. 

“What?” You twist in your heavy coat to glare at him. You hated that this old geezer was constantly talking at you. Somehow, every rotation of stupid chores, he was able to get paired with you, and you hated it. Tommy’s not much better than his brother, (staring at you too long) but where Tommy had to be worried about the people, Joel didn’t give a shit. 

Holding up his veiny, calloused, big hands like you needed to calm down, you looked away from him now. 

“I don’t mean nothing bad by it sweet cheeks, you’re just…” He says while gazing at you from your shaved head in it’s beanie down to the boots that you bartered to get that don’t quite fit your feet. 

You ignore him and continue to let your shovel scrape against the pavement. 

“Now don’t be like that sweet cheeks.” Joel carried on, just as he did everyday. 

“Stop calling me that.” You gruf and throw the snow onto the pile. 

“What? Say it!” He asks dumbly, the stubble on his neck is overgrown, you hate how much of a god damn DILF he appears. 

His long sigh at your overreacting comes out in clouds from the cold. 

“Sweet cheeks,” you say tugging the hat off your head, shoving it into your left pocket. The cold air licks at your bare head. 

“You told me I couldn’t call you peach fuzz anymore!” Joel throws his hands up and then drops them against his jeans in upset. 

“Yeah, not that either.” You say and then get frustrated, and stop shoveling to glare at him. “Sweet Cheeks, Peach Fuzz, why are you calling me this shit?” You ask, figuring it’s just plain old hazing, older guy, younger guy. 

But more of the older men in the community call you Hotshot, or Bubba. So you don’t understand these nicknames from Joel. 

He grins big and wide, like he’s waited for you to ask why this whole time. 

“Peach fuzz because you can’t grow a beard, but your head looks downright fuzzy to rub. Not to mention you look like you’d taste sweeter than peaches. And, Sweet cheeks because-” 

You roll your eyes to stop him, putting your shovel against the wall. 

“Let me guess, I have baby face.” You hate this, hate that he finds your gentle masculinity so damn funny. 

But when his face scrunches up in confusion he corrects you.

“No, not those cheeks….” He says innocently then his face cracks open into glee. As he admires your ass. 

“That’s it, I’m done. You can shovel the rest of it old man.” You turn away, your boots creating packed snow to crackle with your steps. 

You walk away from him as Joel continues to call out to you; “Sweet cheeks, come back! I’m old, I can shovel it all myself! Come on Boy! You look so good shovelin’!” 

His harassment has been going on for months, and you were sick and tired of it. 

You head into the main kitchen area in a huff, not caring about the eyes watching you. 

You go to the coffee pot and pour yourself too harshly into the broken mug, then find some whiskey on the top shelf behind a jar of peas that was for sure expired. 

“You alright there, Bubba?” Tommy bravely comes up to you to ask, his wife watching carefully from a distance. Somehow thinking the man would have a better shot of talking you down than her. 

You pour more whiskey than you should into the coffee mug for this time of day. Then you crack the cap closed, pocketing it your big jacket. Not caring that you were stealing now. 

“Stop it with the nicknames, I have a name!” You shout and a few townsfolk turn to watch the display. Tommy looks around the room and then back at you. You take a long drink of the whiskey, you’re not drunk, not by a long shot, but you wanted to be now. 

“Something wrong?” He says lower in volume then before. 

“Yeah, why the fuck does Joel have to be on every single one of my rotations, doesn’t matter how many times I change it. I can’t muck the stalls, go on perimeter watches, work construction, work electrical, or fucking shovel snow without his old man stupid jokes. I’m tired of him, pair him with someone else, anyone else! He taught me and I don’t need him anymore!” You yell, and Tommy’s uncomfortable, but he doesn’t reach out to stop you. Instead running his hands through his sweaty hair and nodding towards the back half of the kitchen. 

You walk with him letting the door swing behind your bodies. 

“We call you Bubba, because we respect you.” Tommy eyes you closely, and you understand, but it still twists in your gut. “We’re trying to validate you. But also, the one time someone…made a comment on your … features….Joel punched his face in.”

Tommy tells you the story, and you just don’t understand, as you stare at him. 

He waits for everything to click into place. 

It doesn’t. 

“Why?” You need more information. Someone in the back of the kitchen comes towards the burners with a big pot. Tommy twists to see the person, then grabs your bicep and pushes you out the back door. Your coffee sloshes up to burn your thumb but you don’t care as he’s guiding you to more secluded spot. 

“I don’t think I’m the person to tell you this. But… I can’t keep watching him stalk you and then after each shift, mope and get drunk. So, I’m just gonna say it.” Tommy’s grinding his jaw, nervous and frustrated he’s gotta be the one to clean up this mess. 

“Tommy, just switch me shifts. It’s not a big deal, I don’t-”

“I can’t, you don’t understand. Joel won’t let anyone else do a shift with you…Only him.” He emphasises his facial expressions, begging you to understand. 

“I don’t care that he likes bullying me, making his comments. That he taught me shit, I just- I don’t care. I don’t want to be in this community if this is how it’s gonna be all the time!” You shout at him, then storm off as he calls your name over and over. But it’s too late, you're heading back to your house. 

It wasn’t as big as the family homes; in fact, it was once a garage that you had built up. 

Now it had a small bathroom, a mini greenhouse, skylights, a bed built on you, whittling some old long table into a bedframe. 

The rug you traded a knife you’d made for, you kept some food but never much. 

You’d been working on building a guitar, but so far, it was just parts and time spent. 

The sunlight streamed through your mini home, it was on the lot with Gail. Who had been happy to have you only ten feet from the house. Someone to fix her pipes, help her make candles for the community, and help her grow pot so she didn’t have to barter for it. 

You fixed things, had a green thumb, but mostly you would talk to Gail about life; she was lonely. 

Something you’d been since the day you were born. 

So it was easy to walk into her home and not leave for seven hours. 

Today you’d already tended to the pot plants, already cut all the wood for her fire tonight, for her to make a small can of soup over. 

You put down the broken mug on the small wooden-makeshift countertop you used mostly to make coffee and whiskey mixes. Especially after a long day with Joel, he drove you to drink. You’d roll a joint later, once you could feel your fingers again. 

Kicking off your snow-caked boots inside caused a small puddle to form. But you didn’t care, as you cracked open your tiny cast-iron wood-burning stove. 

You make a tiny fire, happy for the warmth, but understanding that with your smaller body mass, there wasn’t a chance it would reach your bones. 

You take off your jacket and throw it onto an ugly chair you’d taken out of the trash. It had taped bits, and motor oil stain from last spring when you’d been working on a small engine repair. 

Your socks get a little wet, you pull your sweater off, then you toss your oversized flannel tossing them on the weathered chair. 

Standing in your faded blue jeans and a tank top, you rub at your shaved head. Walking over to the blooming heat, the flames licking higher, you keep your hands at the base of your skull. 

Wiggling your toes in your sock-covered foot in front of the fire. Your left small toe poked out from a hole in your socks, needing stitching, like you’d done on your right sock from where you’d already mended the pair. 

There’s a knock at your door, you frown in that direction. 

“GO AWAY!” You shout, not wanting to fix anything or talk to anyone. If a small heater was down, which happened too often, you’d get a knock at your door. 

If someone had a leak in the roof, they’d call you. 

Well, you and Joel, as you both were the best at repairing just about everything. 

So if something was broken, you were going to make them go to his old ass to fix it. 

A fist slammed on your door so hard, that the wood shook the frame of your house.

The knocking only got harder and faster. 

“NOT HOME! GO BOTHER SOMEONE ELSE!” You yell, then grab at your mug so you can down the coffee and whiskey mixture in two gulps. 

The door is swiftly kicked open, your metal lock falling to the ground, for you to see Joel standing there. Your mug shatters on the ground. 

“THE FUCK! YOU BROKE MY FUCKING DOOR!” You yell at him but he slams it closed so hard that it opens a crack again. He whirls around like a bear full of rage, grabbing your armchair, he yanks the heavy thing against the door to barricade it. 

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE JOEL!” You shout, but he eyes you with some kind of crazed look. 

Taking your home in three steps he’s in front of you now.

His giant hand grabs your face and squeezes it in his hold, like he was palming your skull like a basketball. 

“You got a problem with me Peach Fuzz? You don’t wanna play with me anymore?” He grunts out, and you can smell his aftershave. Maybe some poutchili mixed in it, but he was musky like a man who works outside. 

It’s a tad intoxicating, even with all the god damn adrenaline flowing through your body. But his pharmones do things to you.

He smells of smoke, leather, denim, and that sweat you get when you’re under a car for hours. His veins bulging from his neck and forehead have you sure he’ll kill you. 

So why does your body relax in his hold, not shy away?

Joel notices too, as he looks into your eyes, then down at your body. 

Kinda like two dogs fighting for dominance, and one going law in submission, you’re submitting to the older man. 

“You’re not like other boys. So gorgeous, still so handsome too,” Joel says, somethwere between anger and bewilderment. 

“I’m a man.” You argue back, but he disagrees just enough, that you feel angry at him. 

“No, you’re a…gentle boy…so soft, so gentle,” he says, his voice getting deeper, lower in volume, hypnotic to you. Even as your heart beats so loud it’s in your ears. 

“Joel.” You say his name like it’s a threat, though you don’t know what to threaten. 

The man releases your jaw, then moves down to your neck, his other hand coming out to caress you. 

All it would take is a squeeze for him to choke you.

But he doesn’t hold on tight now, as though he’s admiring your pale delicate skin. 

The skin that would only take a second for him to bruise up, to squeeze, to break you. 

He’s so much bigger than you are, he’s got muscle from decades of labor. 

Lean muscle yes, but bulkiness in his shoulders, his biceps, forearms bulging with veins and hair, hands used to being scarred from a fight. 

You tried not to gasp as your chin was tilted back, Joel was tenderly sizing up your adams apple, it was so much smaller than his, less jagged, so tiny. 

Your eyelashes flutter at the dominating way he manhandles you. 

You don’t know if it’s the power he is able to wield over your frame, or the way he seems at home at touching you like he owns you. 

But Joel isn’t letting you go. 

“Your not like other boys…I like that.” He whispers and you roll your eyes at him. 

“Perverted old man - of course you don’t-” You sass him bringing your face down again but he slaps your mouth, hitting your cheek low and you gasp but open your mouth. 

He holds your face tight once more, inches his face so close he could kiss you.

“You know I taught you how to be a smart boy. Taught you how to turn wrenches, how to build. Now Imma teach you how to fuck, cuz I’m your Daddy. Ain’t I? Huh soft boy, you can turn wrenches and shave that head, but you ain’t a big man, not like yer Daddy.” Joels hold is tight and angry. But he’s breathing like his cock is doin the thinking now. 

You moan. 

Fuck you, actually moan, your eyes dilating, body growing weightless. 

Joel likes this too, he’s getting a high off this. 

“Open for Daddy. Come on, Peach Fuzz, lemme see that soft mouth.” His other hand grabs at the back of your neck, commanding. 

You open your mouth, then do him one better, sticking out your tongue. 

He spits on your tongue, and you both moan in unison. 

“You don’t want it sweet, huh? I tried so hard to be kind, to get to know you. But that’s not what you need, you need to shown what type of man Daddy can be. I’ll teach you, don’t you worry.” Joel licks his bottom lip, his facial hair moving as he spits on your tongue again. 

One hand moves to the front of your throat and the other stays at the back of your skull. 

Like it’s so easy to hold you, you’re tiny in his hold, something he can easily teach, easily train. 

You swallow his spit, tasting mint and something dark and earthy. 

You had never considered the old man didn’t want you to be like other boys, he wanted you to be his boy. Your body has goosebumps at the harsh way his fingers dig into your skin. You with no scars, porcelain in comparison to his forest of hair, muscle, and broken scar tissue. He was a perfect contrast to you, and when he would throw you down to spread those cheeks he considered so sweet. It would be a boy and a man, straining and panting like two cowboys at the end of the world. 

“Daddy,” you sigh, and he understands, squeezing your throat. You were a tiny bird and he was all encompassing. 

You reach out and grab his belt, the metal clicks as you easily unhook the leather strap and unclasp his jeans button. The fire crackles in the background as you feel a head high, too excited to see what was under the acid wash jeans, under the flannel pattern worn boxers, what his color his tip was. How long was Joel? How thick was he? Would you learn how to open yourself - wet and wide for him to slide inside. 

No condoms at the end of the world, you would both be thankful, because you needed his scent all around your pussy, a mess of wet cum you created together. 

He’s wild and crazed, and you need him inside, need to feel his sweat, his masculine musk. You want to shower in his heat, hold his seed inside your cunt for as long as you fucking can. 

You didn’t know you needed this, you needed this the whole time. That’s why he was always teaching you, why you wanted his approval so desperately. 

“Take out Daddy’s cock, let me show you what it looks like to be a big man.” He whispers it and you shiver at his breath against your tongue stuck out. 

The zipper is loud in your tiny home as you pull the tab down only to feel his member straining against the fabric, his pubic hair already scratching against the back of your hand. 

“Make me a man, Daddy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~

“...usually it's the skin from your forearm, but I've seen people do their legs too.”

You explain the procedure to John as you hold up a crude drawing on the tablet.

“Huh.” John nods. “So, why haven't you…” he gestures vaguely.

“I would be on bedrest for like a year and I genuinely think the world would end if I take my eyes off you for a moment.”

You nod very seriously, then interrupt John before he speaks.

The destruction of Krypton was a tragedy that few lived to mourn. Following the destruction of the planet three children were sent away and survived their journey to earth. The house of El sent a son and a daughter. Kal-El and Kara Zor-El. We already know their stories, but they were not the only ones to escape the destruction of Krypton.

Y/N Lor-Em was the child of a small, little known family. The house of Em, a family of scientists and lab technicians. When Lor-Em heard that the famed Jor-El warned of the destruction of Krypton He did everything He could to procure a stasis pod to send his little girl away. To allow her a future, and so the young 12 year old Y/N Lor-Em was put into a pod and sent out with Kal-El and Kara Zor-El to the planet Earth. Unfortunately the universe had other plans for Y/N and the force of the explosion forced the child’s pod off course. For years the pod flew through space but eventually it found it’s way and crash landed in a small town in New Jersey.

Y/N Lor-Em arrived on earth, confused and scared. Unable to understand the language people spoke on this new planet but there was one thing that they did understand. The other Kryptonians were on Earth because again and again Y/N saw the crest of the house of El.

Five Years Later

Y/N Lor-Em (now simply known by his peers as Y/N) has come a long way since landing on Earth. You realized that you prefer to be identified as a boy. And decided to go simply by your name, Y/N on earth. You had no one to take you in. No one to teach you so you lived on the street and met many other kids like yourself. People born in the wrong body, that became your new family and taught you everything you know about earth. Slowly you learned to speak English and learned from older teens how to survive on the street. You took apart your pod and took the parts you could use to a home you were making yourself. You stole occasionally and used the powers Kryptonians get from Earth’s yellow sun to protect yourself and his friends from anyone stopping you from taking what you needed to survive. Eventually you set up and moved into an abandoned apartment in Gotham City. You learned very little about the other Kryptonians on earth. The one he knew as Kal-El, the Earth knew as Superman. He spent his days saving the world and his city of Metropolis. Occasionally you heard about what Kara Zor-El was up to but very quickly you decided that you wanted nothing to do with the Els. You preferred kept to yourself and your few friends in the world you made for yourself. Until one day when you came back to the apartment you heard people inside.

“How the hell did so much Kryptonian tech get here?” Asked the voice of what could only be a teenage boy. Maybe 17 or 18.

“I have no idea but we need to tell Clark about this. Either someone is stealing Kryptonian technology or someone learned to make it. Either way this is bad news” A different, much lower and older voice said but there was something else to it. It sounded like it was being transmitted, which was confirmed when you looked inside with your x-ray vision and saw only one boy in your home. You floated above the ground so as to not make a sound and as the boy spoke.

“I’ll take some of this stuff back, there are a few crystals here and if they’re anything like the ones he has they can help us figure out what this is” Said the boy and you opened the door, eyes glowing red.

“You won’t be doing anything” You said.

The boy jumped and took a fighting stance with a bo staff. He had short black hair and wore a red costume with wings.

“Who are you? What are you doing in my home?” You questioned, eyes red but not using your heat vision yet. You would give the stranger a chance to explain himself. The boy inspected you and you flew up to him, staring him down.

“You’re Kryptonian” He said and your eyes went back to their E/C color.

“Yes.” You told him, still floating over the boy.

“Red Robin, are you there? I’ve called Clark. Come back with whatever you find” The deep voice said from the transmitter in the boy’s ear and you used your super speed to grab it and break it in your hand.

“You will not take anything.” You said and dropped the broken ear piece in front of him. The boy put his hands up and took a step back.

“Hey- It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. I didn’t know this was your home” He said and you scowled.

“You can’t hurt me even if you tried.” You told him and he nodded.

“You’re right, I can’t. But I can help you. I have a friend he’s like you-” You cut him off before he continued.

“No one is like me!” You yelled and you saw the boy flinch.

“Listen, I’m sorry for breaking into your home but I can help you. I know Superman and he can teach you how to fit in here on earth” He tried to convince you and you floated down to the ground. This boy wasn’t a threat.

“I don’t need Kal-El’s help. My father sent me with everything I need. Besides what does he know about Krypton, he was sent away as a baby while I was sent away as a child” You told the boy who’d eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Wait, so you know Superman… And are older than him?” He asked and you simply stated.

“Yes. I was born 11 years before him. Not that it’s any of your business” You told him and the boy pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Listen, I’m very confused right now so if you’d just come with me we can discuss it. I’m sure Superman can at least help find you a nicer place to stay than this” He said, pointing to the abandoned apartment with clothes and tech spread around.

You glared at him. But you couldn’t hear any maliciousness in his voice and even though you didn’t want to associate with the Els, you didn’t particularly love living on the street.

“Fine.” You finally agreed and the boy smiled, holding out his hand.

“Great! I’m Red Robin by the way” He said but you didn’t take his hand. Instead you allowed your face to become neutral once again.

“I’m Lor-Em but you can call me Y/N”

-

When Bruce called Clark about a huge stockpile of Kryptonian technology he made whatever excuses he needed to be able to get to Gotham as soon as he could. But when Bruce said that Tim found another Kryptonian he didn’t believe it.

“I told you Bruce only mine and Kara’s pods made it to earth. I don’t know how many others were launched but they never made it off the planet” He said as Batman typed away at his computer.

“Rrup nahn jolum Kal-El. Rrup non kir kav dhedh khahp skilor rrup. Vadhah rrup skulir kuva vot iovis ughozh.” (You are wrong Kal-El. You were smaller last time I saw you. Also you look stupid with that suit.) You told the man of steel as Red Robin led you to him and Batman. He looked at you very confused and your face fell back into a scowl.

“You don’t speak Kryptahniuo” (Kryptonian) You said and Red Robin tried to lightly glare at you for the judgment in your voice.

“Not very well no. Now who are you and how do you know that language and my name?” He questioned and you crossed your arms.

“My name is Lor-Em. My father worked with yours so when Jor-El predicted the destruction of Krypton my father gave up everything he had to procure a stasis pod in which he sent me to earth.” You explained and Red Robin looked at you curiously.

“Also he’s apparently 11 years older than you” The boy added and Superman looked at you in confusion.

“The little that still worked in my pod after I crashed said I was blown off course. I landed five years ago” You said and you could see the gears turning in Superman’s head.

“I don’t need your help whether you believe me or not. I’m only here because he practically begged me” You said, pointing to Red Robin and he turned to you.

“You had crystals in your apartment, maybe those hold records?” He asked and you shook your head.

“Only two haven’t broken. They don’t hold anything important.” You lied and it worked.

That night you sat on the rooftop of Wayne manor looking at the sky thinking back to when your father, the original Lor-Em, would take you stargazing on Krypton. The sky was completely different with different stars and planets dotting the sky. Earth's moon was bigger than Krypton’s and you enjoyed seeing it’s changing phases in the sky.

“I thought you went back to your apartment” A voice said behind you and out of instinct you turned around and held up your fists at the owner of the voice.

It was Red Robin, except he was in normal clothes and wearing a pair of sunglasses.

“Batman allowed me to stay for dinner” You said and sat back down, looking at the sky.

“I’m sorry about all of this. I know it must be hard” He said and sat down next to you.

“It’s fine. I’ve been through worse” you told him and he smiled.

“You have nice eyes. They look beautiful in the moonlight” He said and you turned to him, confused.

“Why are you here Robin?” You questioned and he removed his glasses.

“Tim.” He told you before actually answering your question.

“And I thought you shouldn’t be alone right now” He said and you looked down at the legs you were swinging over the edge of the roof.

“It’s gotten easier over the years but every time I look at the night sky I’m reminded that this isn’t Krypton” You told him and he stayed quiet as you spoke.

“I’ve learned so much on earth. Hell I learned I was a boy here." You mused and Tim looked at you confused. You chuckled.

"I wasn't- I mean I was but..." You trailed off. Instead of talking you pulled a crystal that you kept on a string around your neck. Tim watched carefully as the crystal projected a night sky over the dark expanse of the night sky. You put the crystal on the roof and took a step back to look at the full hologram it projected.

"pahskil khahp Y/N Lor-Em" (Show me Y/N Lor-Em) You said and the projection showed a young you, with long flowing hair and a green dress over a black bodysuit. You smiled at the traditional Kryptonian outfit.

"On Krypton girls have three names instead of two, their name as well as their father's name. My name is Y/N and my father's name was Lor-Em" You explained and Tim nodded.

"I appreciate my time here but I’m not like Kal. I can never see this as my home because I remember too much of Krypton. It’ll always be there in my mind” You confessed and held your head in your hands.

"And you took his name when you transitioned?" He asked and you nodded.

"When I first landed a group of kids found me and took me in. They were a few years older than me and most of them were either kicked out or ran away from home because it wasn't safe for them to be themselves. They're the ones that taught me English and helped me understand myself" You shared, your voice held so much love in it and Tim smiled. You were mostly hostile in the short time he'd known you and he liked this side of you. That's when you took the crystal back and put it around your neck and sat back down with Tim joining you.

“And I miss it so much” You said, choking back a sob and Tim put his hand around you protectively.

“I know that leaving your home behind is hard. When my parents died and Bruce took me in I didn’t wanna let myself move on and call this my new home but, Earth doesn’t have to replace your old home. It doesn’t have to replace your home planet but it can be your new home. And you can find new family and friends here that will love you without replacing your family on Krypton” He said and you looked at him. Could you find a new place for yourself without replacing your home planet.

“And your place doesn’t have to be with Clark, I’m sure Bruce will let you stay here if you want” He continued and you hugged him.

“Thank you Tim. Nahkluv” (thank you) You told him and he held you for a bit longer than just a friendly hug but you didn’t pull away.

-

You in fact didn’t stay at Wayne manor. Instead (after a lot of badgering from Tim who you’ve grown very close to), Bruce helped set you up in a small apartment in the city and fake documents to help you live a normal life. Your new name was Y/N L/N, an emancipated 17 year old with up to date vaccination records and legal documents. So you did what any teenager your age does, you got a job at a coffee shop. Tim told you about how important a secret identity is even if you aren’t a superhero, so you practiced introductions and your backstory, Tim even made you promise not to use your powers in public.

He was incredibly eager to help you fit in. You two spent hours going through scenarios and just getting to know each other. You met his friend Kon-El also known as Connor Kent who was half Kryptonian and you told him about your home planet. One of these times you and Tim sat in your apartment, he helped you furnish it so it was comfortable and had little reminders of home. There were space posters all over the place and you had a blanket with your family crest in your living room.

Over the months that you’d known Tim you would spend increasingly more time in your apartment, both because you were uncomfortable in the manor and because Tim appreciated the privacy from his family.

“Wait I didn’t get it, how do you say superhero in Kryptonian?” Tim asked during one of his visits. He started asking you how to say all kinds of words in Kryptonian after you told him you still struggled with English and you found it adorable.

“Zy-gai” You told him again, breaking the word into it’s syllables.

“Zy-gai” He repeated (though his pronunciation was a bit off) and you giggled.

“Close enough” You told him and you both laughed.

“Rrup nahn i zygai” (You are my hero) He said and you felt your face flush, your hands immediately flew to your face to cover it. Tim laughed.

“You ass” You mumbled and he leaned in, pulling your hands away from your face.

“Was my pronunciation that wrong?” He asked and you looked at him and started laughing with him.

“No, no it wasn’t bad” You told him.

“You know it’s true. I’ve never met someone like you Y/N, you’re a hero, cape or not” He said and you curled into yourself in embarrassment at his words.

“Thank you Tim” You told him and he smiled sheepishly.

You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, you really didn’t do it on purpose but you had super hearing and you really couldn’t help but hear not only what Tim said but also what the one who called him said.

“It’s nothing, really- I mean it’s the truth! Cause I’d never lie about that kind of thing-” He started blabbering until his phone rang and he used the excuse to back up.

“I have to take this” He said, putting his hand on the microphone side and walked to a corner.

“So, how’s the date going Timmy?” A voice you had learned to recognize as Tim’s older Brother Dick said and you felt your cheeks brighten again.

“It’s not a date” Your friend grumbled into the phone and you were relieved but also, somewhat disappointed. You realized you had a teeny tiny crush on Tim when he helped you build the furniture you bought for your apartment and while you were glad you didn’t confuse your relationship with him by accident, well…

“Whatever you say Timmy. We all know you’ve got a thing for Kryptonians with identity issue” Dick teased and you heard Tim’s heart race. Was that really his type? And did you have identity issues?

“Kon is half Kryptonian- And what the hell do you want Dick?” Tim asked and this time you focused on the older boy’s response.

“You may want to stay with Y/N tonight. Bruce brought another kid home and this one claims he’s Bruce’s… He’s also a league trained brat” Dick said and you looked at Tim worriedly.

“Right, um, okay. Thanks for the heads up” Tim said and hung up as he walked back to you.

You hurried to look busy but that didn’t fool him.

“You heard all of that didn’t you?” He questioned and you smiled, guilt written all over you.

“No…”

“You’re a terrible liar” Tim said and you very lightly smacked his arm, careful not to use your super strength.

“Only when you’re around” You said without thinking and Tim looked at you, surprised.

“So… Dick said I should stay the night. I can sleep on the couch if you’re okay with it” He said, stuttering over his words and you were all too quick to answer.

“Of course!”

The two of you fell into an awkward silence and you had no idea how to move on so you just asked what was on your mind.

“So, you have a thing for Kryptonians?” You asked, there wasn’t even a hint of judgment in your voice and you smiled as Tim’s face became flushed.

“I mean, Kon- I had a bit of a crush on him” Tim confessed and you couldn’t hold back the next thing that came out of your mouth.

“And me?”

You clapped your hands over your mouth as soon as you heard what you said.

“I’m sorry- I- you don’t have to answer that-" Tim started to lean towards you,

"actually please don’t answer!” Until he heard you say that.

He stopped the second you said please don’t and immediately straightened.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean- I mean after what you said I thought- Never mind. I’ll um, I’ll see if I can stay at another friend’s place tonight. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable” He said but you stopped him from getting up.

“No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked, I don’t know what came over me” You said and he sat back down and wrapped his hands around yours.

“No- you didn’t- it’s not your fault” He said and scooted over to sit closer to you.

…

“Can I kiss you?” He asked and your eyes widened but you nodded and he leaned in and gently placed a kiss on your lips.

“Khahp zhao rrup Y/N” He said when your lips parted as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Lor-Em” You said softly and his eyes showed some confusion as you continued.

-

6:24.

Six minutes until John would come home.

You were absolutely terrified. You were going to tell him. You weren't sure how you were really gonna do it. Were you just going to break it to him over dinner? Just go up to him and say, "Heyyy... welcome home! Also, I'm transgender. Would you like to sit down and eat?"

No, that's ridiculous.

6:25.

Another minute passed, and you still weren't sure what to do. You were freaking out. What if he kicked you out for being such a freak? It also didn't help that you still hadn't even confessed your feelings for him at all. What if you found out and then realized that you, a boy, had feelings for him? He would be so upset with you.

You didn't even know if he liked you back. If he didn't, he would be disgusted by you. And even if he did like you back, maybe he wouldn't seeing that you were a freak.

6:26.

You bit your lip, taking in your surroundings again. You were on the couch, the television on. You weren't even looking at what was on; you were still panicking about your coming out to John.

John... John was your best friend. John had been with you since freshman year of college, yet now, senior year... You had a realization midway of sophomore year and you realized that your gender wasn't what it was on your birth certificate. You still hadn't even told anyone, but you knew you had to tell eventually.

Maybe you should just put it off. Until tomorrow. It wouldn't matter anyway. You needed to get yourself together before you could even try to tell him anything.

It was just so hard trying to see what was the point. You didn't want to do this at all. Maybe you could just keep this a secret for the rest of your life.

6:28.

You cursed. You didn't think time would pass by so quickly. It was two minutes until John would come home, and you still weren't sure. Maybe you could just put it off.

You were just terrified of his reaction. He was one of your best friends, along with the rest of the Hamilsquad.

The Hamilsquad... you hadn't told any of them. Alex might be supportive, but you still weren't sure. You thought once that you saw an LGBT+ pin on his backpack, but you weren't sure how'd he react to you being transgender. Hercules and Lafayette might not understand at all.

You couldn't lose John. That's all you knew.

6:29.

You shook your head. You had to do it tonight. You had put it off for years, and you had to do it. You needed to say it before the pain of hiding this secret enveloped you.

The door opened.

John...

"Hey, [B/N]!" John called out. "I'm back!"

"Yeah, I noticed!" You yelled back sarcastically, and reached for the remote control to turn off the television. Your chest tightened and you coughed to hide it.

Before you knew it, John had plopped down onto the couch, and put his arm around you.

"How's my best friend doing?"

"I don't know, ask Alex if you want to know." You said before you could censor the words coming out of your mouth. You were always like that, teasing John about how he was just living with you. The entire Hamilsquad were best friends, but you like to joke that John liked them better than he liked you.

"I see how it is." John scoffed, getting up. "Call me when you're feeling less salty, okay?"

"Hey, shush!" You pulled him down by the shirt sleeve, and he let you do so, falling onto you like a sack of potatoes. His back was on you and you felt the breath getting knocked out of you. "Hey! John, you bastard! Get off me!"

"Uh... no."

"If you don't get off right now, John Laurens, I will not make you dinner."

The minute those words came out of your mouth, John immediately got off. His face was red, although you weren't sure if it was because of what happened right now, or something else.

"Rude." John said simply as he walked into the kitchen.

You sighed. How were you going to tell him? You didn't want to ruin your dynamic. Even if he was okay with you, he might be a little awkward around you, and you didn't want to ruin your best friend dynamic.

You decided to go into the kitchen, and he had his back to you, facing the counter. He was messing around with the things that you had prepared for dinner. You sat down at one of the high chairs at the table, and watched John fumble around.

"Hey, this looks like a pretty good pie. What is it?" He laughed, bringing the plate to your face. You looked up, and he was right in your face. He was standing on the other side of the table. He looked into your eyes as well, and you felt your heart jump into your throat. His eyes were almost sparkling like stars, and his freckles flowed under the kitchen light that was right above him. His curly hair looked like a mess, but no one could say that it wasn't adorable.

Right at that moment, you knew that you couldn't hide any longer. He was your best friend. You loved him. You loved him so much; you couldn't stand it any longer. You had to tell him.

"John."

He nodded.

"I'm transgender."

John blinked several times at what you said. Your eyes drifted down. You didn't want to look at John now, especially if there happened to be a heartbroken look on his face.

The plate of pie was dropped onto the kitchen table and you heard him step back. He hated you now, didn't he? You should have waited for it, you should have waited for a better time, and you shouldn't have told him at all.

"How long have you known?"

You looked up at John, who said those words. He was facing the counter again, his back towards you. His head was down, almost as if he didn't have the energy to raise his head.

"Sophomore year." You whispered, but you knew that he had heard you.

The room became totally silent. You felt the tears well up in your eyes. You knew that if John kicked you out, you'd have to find someone to take you in.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

A tear dropped down your face.

"I... I'm sorry. I just... I didn't want you to freak out."

You collapsed down onto the floor. You should have waited. You needed to leave; you couldn't handle this. It was okay. You could just leave, and you didn't have to bother John anymore. You didn't need to talk to the Hamilsquad anymore. You could live without them. You didn't need friends anyway.

A pair of arms wrapped themselves around you. You struggled, and tried to get out of that tight grasp. The arms squeezed tighter around you and you gave up. You were grossly sobbing at this point.

"I'm sorry that you thought I'd react negatively," he sighed. "I didn't think you'd be afraid of me. [B/N]- well... what's your name?"

"... I was thinking something like... [F/N]..."

"Okay." He got up, and pulled you up with him. You were hugging John in the kitchen now, the food left forgotten. John nuzzled his nose onto your hair, and you sniffed.

"John... I..."

"Shh... [F/N]..."

John led you slowly to the couch, and you both sat down there. You leaned your head on his shoulder, and he pat your head.

"It's time for re-introductions, isn't it?"

"What?"

"My name is John Laurens in the place to be!"

He placed his hand on your shoulder, and you raised your head. John's eyes were wet, too, and you suddenly felt bad.

"Look, [F/N], I..." He stopped suddenly, and you stared at him. You let out a breath you weren't even aware you were holding.

"I... I've been hiding this for a while... but I love you." He averted his eyes. "I thought I was crazy for liking a girl... but... now I know..."

"What?"

"[F/N]... I'm gay."

"Oh..." Your heart did a flip. Would he like you then? Or maybe he wouldn't, seeing that you're trans.

"I'm gay for you."

His lips were on yours suddenly, and the world around you seemed to disappear. It was cliché, but you think you could feel it in your heart that you two were meant to be. It was perfect, just the way it should be. You wouldn't have it any other way. You kissed him back fervently and everything was right.