Clark Kent X Reader - Blog Posts

I'm a fan of my adventures of Superman, they made Clark a cute hunk and I sort of dislike this version of Louse Lane...🛎️📆📅🗓️⏰

Farmer!Clark Kent

Farmer!Clark Kent who moves back to Smallville after he retires from being a reporter. He's a bit older now (40-45), and he has a few grays coming in but it's okay because he just wants to work on the farm with animals.

Farmer!Clark Kent who is immediately taken by his new neighbor who bought the farmland next to his parents a few years ago. She's about fifteen years younger than him but he can't help but drool when she comes by in her daisy dukes with her thighs out to deliver a pie to welcome him back to Smallville.

Farmer!Clark Kent who works on the farm shirtless just in case she comes over or happens to drive by. One day she calls him over because her sink gets clogged and she needs help because no plumbers will come out this far.

Farmer!Clark Kent who was fully expecting to work on a sink, he came in in his wrangler jeans and his flannel with a baseball cap on. He was pleasantly surprised to see her only in silk shorts and a thin tank top. He decided right then that the sink wouldn't be fixed.

Farmer!Clark Kent who swears up and down that Ma and Pa kent raied him to be a fucking gentlemen but he loses all his control when seeing her. That's how he ends up fucking her against her couch in the living room. He promises that he'll take her on a proper date after this.

Farmer!Clark Kent who is glad that his farm is so secluded because that means he could fuck her outside and no one would even know. At this point, he's had her in the barn, the hay bales, and in the tractor. He promises her that he'll give her some babies to help keep the farm going.

Chapters: 3/61 Fandom: Justice League - All Media Types, DC Extended Universe Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Clark Kent/Reader, Bruce Wayne/Reader, Barry Allen/Reader, Superman/Original Female Character, Batman/Original Female Character, The Flash/Original Female Character Characters: Superman | Clark Kent, Batman | Bruce Wayne, The Flash | Barry Allen, Justice League - Character, extended character ensembles that are appropriate to each charcater, basically related characters Additional Tags: Romance, Secret Identity, Identity Porn, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sex, internal thought processes Summary:

This story will be a sort of preferences, much like my Hetalia fic if you’ve read it, but also technically be both “x Reader” and “x OC.” You see, I really struggle to write with (Y/n) (L/n), or 2nd person POV’s. So I have made three blank slates of OC’s, and wrote romance with them. They technically have backstory and description where it serves the stories. If this interests you, please read. I’ll explain more in the first chapter which characterization and continuity I’m following. Enjoy!

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— Superman Ticket —

_ Alexandra Ogden POV _

You know, I understand why a lot of businesses both do and don’t have ‘friends & family’ discounts. Those things are great for advertising, but can be easily abused. Luckily for me, as my own boss, I can give out discounts wherever I like with little consequence. Plus, my friends tend to feed me while I clean so I call that a net-bonus. A preemptive tip, if you will. Maybe it’s unprofessional, but hey, it works. 

Lois easily moves around the kitchen while I finish cleaning the living room. Last room of her apartment left to clean, it was where she was sitting out of the way while I cleaned the rest of her place, and the last client of the day. I do find cleaning to be enjoyable, because the instant gratification after completing the task is addicting, honestly, but it is tiring. Some places just take some elbow grease, what can I say? 

“Nearly done?” Lois asks. “Almost! Just gotta move your couches back in place, and then I’m done for the day.” I call back, and get to moving said furniture over the newly swept floor. “Good! We haven’t had the chance to hang out in a while.” Lois comments, and I hear her popping open a wine bottle and moving around her cabinets, so I think I have an idea of what she has in store for me. 

She’s not wrong though, we both have been busy. Lois just got a promotion at work, and as a reporter she’s been very busy. She worked incredibly hard to get where she is, and that’s not going to falter because she’s reached one of her goals. No, she’s going to keep going, I know that. I’ve been busy too. My cleaning business is hard as a one-woman show, but I have regular clients who have also recommended my services to their friends and family. So I’ve been swamped. It’s nice to have a routine of which houses I go to in a given week, but the parties I clean up after on the week-ends and now week-days have taken up so much of my time. But the pay has been good, and has been padding me for times when it’ll be slower. 

Once I’m done with the living room I gather my cleaning supplies and place them by the door. I’ll carry them down to my car later. Just on time too, as Lois emerges from her kitchen with two wine glasses filled with a generous amount of a cheap red, if I know her well, and a knowing smile. Lois always knows what's going on. I’d say it's her reporter instincts, but I’ve known her since high-school and she was like this long before she joined the newspaper club. 

I take the offered glass and sit down next to her newly shiny couch. We both drink before talking, because all conversations are better a little buzzed I think. “So, how’d it go?” She asks me, a sly smirk on her face, and I sigh. I know exactly what she’s talking about. I had a date yesterday, one Lois prompted me to go on, and she wants the tea. Too bad it’s going to be very cold. “Not great, how well did you know this guy again?” I prompt, thinking back to how the date went. 

Lois raises her brows in question, and slowly says – “Not especially well, why? What happened?” I lean back and take a sip before I answer. “Like I said, not great, he was very… how do I put this, self-assured? Entitled? He seemed to think my work was either a hobby or not a real job.” I try to explain how he came off, but it’s hard to put it into words. He was just off… and obviously so, but not in a way you could put your finger on immediately. 

“The job that you get paid for?” I nod at Lois’s comment, and she looks stumped. “I’m sorry girl, I thought he would have been better.” I shake my head. “Not your fault, Lois, you didn’t know him well. I just think I’m gonna be done with dates for a while.” I say, and Lois hums in thought. “What if… how about you trust me one more time?” She says, looking excited. 

I look at her, slightly concerned. “Lois, you didn’t do well with the last guy you recommended, why would this one be different?” Lois smiles at me in what I’m sure she thinks is comforting, but it’s one of her determined smiles that makes me think I’m about to be roped into something chaotic again. “Because I’m not the one recommending him!” She explains. “What?” I ask, confused beyond measure now. 

“You remember that photographer at the Daily Planet that I work with?” She pushes on, and I hesitantly reply – “Yes? The sunshine one?” “Yes! He’s worked with this other reporter on my new floor, and he says this guy is a sweetheart, couldn’t hurt a fly. You’d trust sunshine, wouldn’t you?” Lois excitedly asks. I frown a little though. “I don’t know, seems like a risk, really.” Lois pushes on my shoulder a little. 

“Come on, Alex, live a little. You handled the last guy, if this guys the same then no problem, same story, same old song. But what if he’s not?” Lois pressures, and she makes some good points. I have handled bad dates before, what’s one more? I sigh and nod. “Alright, one more blind date.” Lois fist bumps the air in excitement, and I have to crack a smile at that. 

— Break Line —

_ Alexandra Ogden POV _ 

I like cafe dates, it means I can dress casually. The last guy I went on a date with chose a fancy restaurant, obsessively texted me to check I was dressing right, and most certainly did not return the favour. I was not enthused to say the least. So this is much better. Now just to find the man. You’d think Lois would give his number beforehand, but it seems like she wanted to avoid the aforementioned fiasco. Nevermind that, I’ve got to find this guy going off a name and a description. 

Clark Kent, or as Lois keeps calling him, Smallville is a man with black hair, usually a little messy, black, square glasses and a slouch despite his buff physique. Jimmy Olsen described him to me in some better detail. I can expect him to look nervous, as he comes from a small town and never got used to the city crowds. He’ll probably overdress, but not out of a sense of superiority, but in a nervous way where he feels the need to impress. Yes, he slouches, but it doesn’t come off as lazy, more insecure. His hair will be messy, but not so messy as to be unkempt. It’s curley more than anything. And blue eyes, Jimmy mentions those would be striking. 

And there is just such a man fitting that description in the back of the cafe, at a small table, nervously looking outside the cafe wall to ceiling windows. Hopefully he’s looking for me. He does have the curly black hair, the big glasses, and the slouch. He curls up in his seat like he’s scared of inconveniencing someone by taking up too much space. He’s wearing a nice sweater, some khaki slacks, and office shoes. And he is very buff. Jimmy said he was from a small town right? Bet he’s a farm boy, a natural buffness gained from lifting hay or something like that. 

I approach him with an easy smile, and stand by his table. “Hey, Clark Kent, right?” I ask, and his eyes jerk to me quickly. Wow, those are blue. Cute too. “Oh- Uh, yes. I’m Clark Kent – you just said that. Um - Alexandra Ogden?” He nervously stutters, going to adjust his glasses on his face despite them not being out of place. I give him a comforting smile. I by no means think I look bad, in fact I think I look very good, but I didn’t know I looked so good as to make him this nervous. At least, I hope it’s good looks that’s making him nervous. Hate for it to be anything else, except maybe natural disposition. Then it’s just neutral. 

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out. I hope you weren’t waiting long?” I ask, and Clark shakes his head negatively. “No, no, I just got here. Don’t worry. Do you want to get something?” That’s good, means I didn’t make a bad impression by being tardy. And he waited for me before going to get something to eat! Ain’t that sweet. I nod. “Yeah, join me?” I ask. “Yes!” Clark exclaims, perhaps a little louder than he meant, and scrambles out of his seat. Oh, this is adorable. This man towers over me, even with a slouch, and he’s acting like the most nervous-excited puppy I have ever seen. 

He follows me eagerly into line, standing a little behind me instead of just beside me. I frown a little at that, but I do understand. This cafe is small, there isn’t a lot of room. Speaking of little room, the line is already long, and more people start to pour in through the front door. That welcome bell has not stopped jingling. “Wow, it got crowded fast.” I comment, and Clark moves a little closer to me to save space. 

“Very fast. I’m starting to think the whole date will be spent in this line.” He answers, and he’s not wrong. As I mentioned, the line is already long, and moving very slowly. We might be here a while. “In that case, how was your day?” I ask. Let’s not let the time go to waste, right? “Busy, yours?” Clark asks, and that’s a short answer, isn’t it? I chance a glance back and see he’s looking at the crowd around us nervously. Olsen did say he wasn’t used to city crowds, or maybe given how long he’s been here, he just doesn’t like them. “Likewise. Any interesting stories?” I prompt, trying to get his mind off the crowd. 

“A couple, one intrigue into how the Crime Families of Metropolis are exploiting the restaurant scene, but Lois Lane snatched that one up, and another that I got on LexCorp. General PR things, really.” Clark seems to clock in that the date is going now, and engages readily. His job sounds interesting, and he seems knowledgeable about it. “Were you looking forward to the crime story?” I respond. “What reporter isn’t? But I have to admit, I think Lois will do a better job than I would have.” I see Clark shrug out of the corner of my eye, and I smile. Humble, not bad. 

“I’d say don’t sell yourself short, but I do have to stick to my best friend.” I shrug as well. What can I say, I have loyalty. Clark chuckles a little, which makes me smile more. Good to know he didn’t take offence. “I don’t blame you. You know, Lois didn’t mention what you did for work?” Clark asks the next question, and I toy with my bottom lip for a moment before I answer. This is where the last date went down hill. “I’m a cleaner.” I hesitantly say. 

But Clark doesn’t immediately change the topic or dismiss me, he asks a follow-up instead. “For like someone specific? Or freelance?” His tone is curious and genuine. “Freelance.” I answer. “Any difficult jobs lately?” Clark questions further, and I feel some flutters in my stomach from how well this is going. He’s not a snob about my job at least! One point for the small town boy. “They’re all a little hard, but I did have a party to clean up after this past weekend. Tell you what, if you ever plan a party in your beige-themed house – stick to white wine, not red.” I expound. That was a hard job, and my client was absolutely a snob. 

“Sheesh. I hope you got tipped nicely for that one.” Clark empathizes with me, and I nod as well. “Would it surprise you if I said I didn’t?” I chuckle a little. It’s been long enough and is more funny now than it was annoying and rude then. She was an ass. “Sadly, no. I don’t think your career is one that’s often appreciated these days, is it?” Clark sighs in sympathy. I snort a little though, in a humorous way. “These days? Please, point to the decade where they were.” I prod. 

“Good point. But forgive me for the assumption – you look like you're doing well for yourself?” Clark points out, and I have to say, he’s not exactly wrong. I’ve got several regular clients, and enough supplies that it’s not digging into my budget all the time like it did in the early days. I even have my own apartment, which while small is debt free. “That sounds like a compliment to me. But indulge me, what gave it away?” I query, and Clark astutely assumes that – “You don’t sound mad that your occupation is underappreciated, just annoyed.”

I used to get so angry, back when I was starting my business. It was hard at the start, and it still is now, although in different ways. I used to get mad at everything, from my clients, my career, myself, and the world in general. But I’ve done well for myself, and I suppose that gives me some privilege, doesn’t it? I’m in a place where I don’t have to be angry at the world, that’s something. “I think I am mad, on principle, but you’re not wrong I’m more annoyed about not getting tipped than pissed. Lucky me, really.” I eventually say after a moment. 

“Something tells me luck has nothing to do with it.” Clark states, and isn’t that curious. What does he mean? “Hm?” I question back with a hum. Clark explains himself. “You’re friends with Lois Lane, and something tells me she was hard to keep up with in High School. You’d need to be proactive for that, so I think you’re probably a very hard worker, and your success is a credit to that.” I blush a little at his take, and suddenly I’m glad he chose to stand behind me instead of beside, so that I can have that little moment to myself. It’s nice to be appreciated, isn’t it? Still, I shan’t let a chance to tease go. 

 “Is this flattery?” I ask with a smile in my voice, and a chipper little tilt of the head. I hear Clark chuckle quickly again. “Journalistic observation. Can’t help it when I meet someone interesting.” He jokes back, and I turn to look at him with a cheery smile. “I’m interesting, am I?” His smile is adorable, actually, it’s adorkable. The way his grin is comforting, to how his glasses sit, to the way his hair lays. Oh, I like this view. 

“Among other things.” Clark replies, that dorky smile still on his face. I truly turn my whole body to face him now, ready to continue this. “Well, I – hey, careful!” I try to start, but someone seems to take me turning around as a sign for them to skip the line. They shove in between me and the person that was in front of me, throwing an elbow into my back. I tip forward, but luckily Clark is close and catches me easily. 

“Woah there. I got ya’. It’s really getting crowded in here now.” Clark catches me by my elbows, and helps me right myself without letting go. I look around, and he’s very correct. I glare at the person who cut in line, but they don’t spare me a glance, and stoutly ignore me. “Too crowded. And we’ve barely moved in line.” I observe, and Clark nods back. “Yeah, I think our coffee is going to take a while, huh?” My lips form a thin line as I think about it. Yeah, it might even take more than a while. 

“Probably. Unless we try somewhere else?” I propose. “If you’re okay with it, so am I.” Clark looks me in the eye as I respond, and I stare back with a confident smile. I like him. “Great, let's get out of here and get some room to breathe.” We quickly shimmy out of the line, and Clark holds my hand as he uses his height and broad shoulders to wiggle us some room to move. We manage to squeeze out the door of the cafe despite having to do it sideways to pass the guy standing in it. We quickly walk to the corner of the block to escape the line that is trailing out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk. 

“Phew – I am happy to be out of there. Sorry about this.” Clark seems to relax and stretch out now in the open air. His shoulders settle and untense, and he almost stops slouching. Almost. I shake my head. “You can’t control it, or have known, don’t sweat it. Plus, you’re a buff guy, I imagine you were more crowded in there than I was.” He chuckles nervously, but turns to me with a sly grin. 

“Is this flattery I hear?” He asks, a smirk in his voice, and I laugh out loud. Good humor too! “Only altruistic observation. It was natural, really.” I quip back, and he smiles with me. “I certainly don’t mind it.” His gaze is kind as he stares down at me, and I can’t help but return it. Jimmy wasn’t kidding when he said his eyes were striking. Call me cheesy if you must, but I wouldn’t mind getting lost in them. “So, as a reporter I imagine you’re very familiar with Metropolis?” I start. 

Clark gives me a curious look, but does respond in kind to my odd question. “Comes with the territory, even if I only moved here for my career.” I smile back at him to reassure him as he answers. “Then would that familiarity happen to give you knowledge of other good cafes around here?” Clark smiles when he catches on to my plan. Although he still looks a little nervous. He rubs the back of his neck slightly. 

“It might, if the crowds from before haven’t already ruined this. But with the way this conversation has been going, am I wrong in assuming it hasn’t?” Clark asks in the most sincere voice I have ever heard. I wonder what makes a man like him nervous. He’s so tall, and such a big man. Yet he slouches to not inconvenience others, he’s nervous in the face of little old me. He’s something, I just can’t put my finger on it at the moment. But I’d like to find out. 

 “No, you’re dead on. It hasn’t ruined it all, only made it more interesting. Among other things.” I day as I grin up at him. He grins back, and holds out his hand. I hold it, and it’s more than nice. His hand is bigger than mine, warmer too. Calloused but not uncomfortable, and he holds my hand so gently. “Then I absolutely know another cafe.” I squeeze his hand excitedly. “Lead on then, few things could ruin this date now.” 

He laughs a little with joy, and his smile is starting to become addictive. He tugs me around the block, assuredly guiding me to another cafe. “Great. Com'n, this way –” He starts to say, but is cut off as the sky dumps a bucket of water on us. For fucks sake, it’s really raining now. There wasn’t even a sprinkle in warning! Just some grey clouds, and now it’s pouring. “I may have jinxed it.” I say, and yelp a little when Clark starts to tug me and jog towards something. 

“Or spoken too soon– this way!” Clark calls back, and he runs under the cover of a bus stop. Nobody else is in it, thankfully, and we both start to wipe the water off our faces and ring it out of our hair. Clark wipes the water off his glasses, and I shiver from the temperature. “God! Metropolis rain is so cold! You never get used to it.” I say, trying to keep the mood a little light in the face of this downpour. Clark nods. “Agreed! I don’t think we should risk running to the cafe, we’re already wet enough.” 

I frown at that, because it sounds like we don’t have a back up. I don’t want this date to end yet, it was going so well! “What about our date? Unless you want to have it at the bus stop.” I ask, and Clark frowns as well. He looks contemplative, and takes a moment to answer. “I think we’ll have to take a raincheck. Literally. The bus will come, do you live along one of the routes?” He says sheepishly. Damn, and this was going so well. 

“Yeah I do, you?” I answer defeatedly. Clark shakes his head. “Sadly not, but it’s alright, I’ll wait here for the rain to end.” What? I’m not going to just leave him in the rain, that’d be a dick move. And he’s been really good, and this has been an amazing date so far. We’re getting along great. I don’t want to ruin it by leaving him to soak in the cold. “I’d feel like an asshole if I just left you while I went home. You’ve been really nice, Clark.” 

Clark seems to blush a little, and puts his glasses back on his face. He’s back to that nervous stature, rubbing the back of his neck again as he asks – “Well, how about we try to go on another date? Another day?” I frown. I’m not opposed to another date, but – “That won’t keep you warm and dry.” I argue. Clark seems to blush more, and I don’t know what for until he argues back – “You never know, it might. I hear phone numbers from pretty blondes keep guys and gals alike very warm.” 

I feel my own cheeks flush, and with a small smile I tease back. “Is this flattery?” Clark, instead of continuing the teasing tone, responds seriously and with a smile. “Yes.” I think I’ll just have to trust him. Trust I’m not giving him a cold, or leaving him out to hang in this weather. I sigh, but I’m still grinning. “Alright, Clark Kent, you’ve got yourself another date.” Clark smiles brightly at me, holding my hands for a moment, squeezing them. “And your number?” He asks. 

I reach into my purse, grab a pen and loose but unused napkin, and jot my number down on it. I hand it over happily. “Here.” He takes it and tucks it into his wallet, probably one of the only places it’ll stay dry. I frown a little at the reminder I’m leaving him in the rain. Clark looks up for a second, and then quickly looks back to me. “Thank you, I think the bus is almost here.” I look around, and don’t see the bus. 

“How can you tell – well would you look at that, right on the dot.” I start to ask, but I interrupt myself as I see the bus turn the corner onto our street and slowly approach the bus stop. “It was just a feeling.” Clark explains. “A good one. Thank you for the date, Clark, despite the ending I very much enjoyed it.” I respond, and smile at Clark again as the bus comes to a stop. 

“Me too. Get home safe!” Clark calls back to me with a smile and a wave as I get on the bus. I turn around to wave back through the closing doors. “You too, and don’t forget to call or text me!” I remind him, and I just hear Clark’s response as the doors close between us. “Don’t worry, I won’t.” I sit in the back of the bus, and forlornly watch as Clark becomes a smaller and smaller speck in the distance. It’s really hard to see him through this rain. But as soon as I lose sight of him, I slump in my seat and turn back to look in the direction my seat is facing. 

I really like him, I think it was a good date, despite all the little things. But those were environmental things, not problems with Clark himself. I hope he texts me, and does take me on a second date. I’d really like to go. 

— Batman Ticket —

_Genevieve Dalton POV _

Most people like to chant ‘Eat the Rich!’, but today my job is to feed them. I’m not normally a cook for these kinds of high-scale events, but I am well connected within my field, and this is a private dinner. Some old rich friends or something are having a dinner together, and my friend was hired to be their private chef for the night. I understand why, he does cook fancy things. But he also has a lot of anxiety about these things, and was scared to cook alone. 

So he called me. I’m also a private chef, but nowhere near as bougie as he is. But I can be his sous chef for the night, handle the dishes and prep as such. It’ll be fine, really. I don’t let him know that I’m also a little nervous, because who wouldn’t be? I mean, it’s not like they can tank my ratings, I already usually work at a diner. They could tank Jeffery though, and I don’t want that to happen. So there is some pressure. 

But I’m a cook, I can handle it. I know I can, for Jeffrey. Even if one of the guests is the Prince of Gotham. 

— Break Line —

_ Bruce Wayne POV _

I’ve never hated Julie Madison, but I’ve never been fond of her in the way she wanted. I understand where she’s coming from, social pressure as well as pressure at home that pushes her to remain in the circle of the Gothamite elites. But it's not where she wants to be, deep down. She doesn’t quite believe in the imperialistic norm of the socialites, and I think she would much rather focus on developing a career instead of furthering her family's legacy of inherited wealth. 

I don’t know if it’s for moral reasons or because her passion for acting outweighs the silver spoon she’s been force-fed all her life. I don’t think I should be the one to point this out to her, though. It’ll mean so much more and stick so much harder if she figures it out for herself. I do hope she does though, it’ll do her a lot of good. 

A lot more good than this farce of a dinner. The food is good, the wine is perfect, and the atmosphere is as romantic as you’d expect it to be. But neither am I interested in her, or her in me. I wouldn’t hate a one-night stand, but I know it wouldn’t mean to her what it means to me. And she’d hate it. She doesn’t actually want me, it’s just the expectation her parents and friends are forcing on her. Gothams golden girl and Gothams Dark Prince would make quite the pair, if in name only. 

Her make-up is immaculate, but her smile is forced. Mine is as well, but for her own sanity I hope she doesn’t notice. This mask is easy for me to wear, I’ve practiced. But Julie just got back from a movie shoot, and it’s been a while since she’s had to put on her porcelain mask of perfection for Gotham. She’s trying very hard to make this work, and if we were anyone else I would be falling head over heels right now. 

But we’re not anyone else, and I’ve known her since High-school. I was admittedly not the nicest back then, but she was kind to me. I owe it to her to show the same kindness back. Neither of us want to be here, but this dinner will likely tide her parents overbearing attitude for a bit. It’s the least I can do for her. Still, this is dragging on. I should end this soon, as politely as I can. 

And I am saved by the bell, specifically the alarm bell. I feel my phone vibrate three times in my back pocket, and I know that is the tell I set for a bank robbery. As Julie goes to pour more wine I sneak a quick glance at said phone to confirm. There's a robbery at the First National Bank of Gotham, no rouges spotted. I should go handle it, but I also need to make sure Julie doesn’t feel slighted. Bathroom, Wayne Enterprise Emergency, Apology text. It’s a quick plan, but it will have to do. 

“If you’ll excuse me for a second, Julie, I’ll be back shortly.” I say with practiced grace and an easy smirk. Julie looks a little caught off guard as I stand, but she smiles pleasantly. “Of course, Bruce. I won’t be going anywhere.” I internally wince at that, but still smile back and button the front of my seat as I leave her dining table and make my way out of the dining room. Instead of turning right towards the bathrooms I turn left to make my way out through the kitchen. 

If I remember the layout of her penthouse correctly there’s a window to the fire escape there, which will lead down into an obscure alleyway. I send the location to the Batcomputer which then starts to self-drive the Batmobile to said alley. Luckily Julie lives on the edge of the city, it won’t be long. By the time I make it to the alley the car will be there and ready, my suit in the back to change into. 

I’m apparently a little too confident in my plan that I fail to notice someone in the kitchen as I enter until they ask – “Can I help you sir?” I hold back a startled flinch and immediately look up to assess the situation. It’s just one other person in the kitchen with me, a Ginger woman with her hair pulled back in a bun. She’s in normal clothes with an apron over it, and yellow plastic gloves to protect her hands as she scrubs dishes. Ah, one of the hired chefs. 

I had thought since Julie had hired private chefs for the night, and we had already just finished dinner, they would be gone by now. Shit. Alright, new plan, play nice, pretend I’m an asshole abandoning Julie, and look like going out the window is normal Playboy Nepo-baby behavior. I give the cook my most charming smirk, and put the flirting on thick. 

“Absolutely Sweetheart, I wanted to thank the girl who just made one of the most amazing meals I’ve ever had.” I say, and the woman blushes furiously, looking caught off guard. Her eyes frantically look to another door, but not the one I came from or the one she used to deliver the food to us. I hadn’t paid much attention to her then. But it’s a different door, are there more people? 

“I - I - Thank you sir, but I’m not the cook - tonight at least - Jeffery made your meal. He deserves your compliments.” So there is at least one more. He must be taking a break on the other side of the door. If I move this along quickly enough I won’t have to talk to or excuse myself from him either. I turn the charm up as I turn to look at the woman again. 

“Well, pass on my compliments for me, but I have to admit, while the meal was good, it didn’t look quite as good as you do. May I know your name?” I ask, leaning a hand against the kitchen island. The woman's face is a mess of red flush, which I have to admit is very charming, and she stutters out – “Gen – Genevieve Dalton, sir. You - sorry -” I laugh a little to interrupt her, and wave off her stumbling. “Bruce Wayne, but I bet you just remembered that.” 

She shyly nods, and I continue to smile. “Genevieve, a beautiful name. It suits you. You wouldn’t be willing to part with your number, would you?” It’s a little far, but I need to get this over quickly. There is an active robbery going on. She looks caught off guard, and this time her eyes do flicker to the door that leads to Julie. Good, think I’m an asshole, wave me off, and I will be out of her quickly. The Batmobile must almost be here by now. “Reunion not going well?” Is what she asks instead, and what? 

“What?” I ask a little dumbly, because what reunion is she talking about? Genevieve looks nervous as she answers – “The Highschool reunion, sir? Ms. Madison said this was a reunion dinner.” Ah, maybe I didn’t give Julie enough credit. But I hit the nail on the head when I said that she doesn’t want to date me. If she did she would have bragged about it to the cooks, but instead she misnamed the dinner on purpose. I can’t fault her for that, but I do now have to roll with the punches. My smile is a little strained as I quip back –

“Have you ever had a fun reunion? It’s always people who have mellowed out since high-school, and I did not come to talk taxes. So, number?” I rush, and Genevieve fumbles for a second to take off her gloves and write her number on a recipe card before handing it to me. I tuck into my breast pocket, and begin to trudge towards the window to make my escape, already planning my next line, when Genevieve stops my in my tracks by asking – 

“If I may ask, sir, what did you want my number for?” I turn to look at her slowly. Is she - is she joking? What does she think I want her number for? Still, play stupid games, win stupid prizes, and I should have just taken the damn elevator. So I plaster on an amused smile, and hit her with “So I can take you on a date of course.” Genevieve looks incredibly surprised, and very embarrassed, as her hands clasp together and squeeze in surprise. “Me?” She asks in a high pitched voice, and I have to chuckle at that. She’s dense, but she’s cute. 

“Do boys usually ask for your number for other reasons?” I jest, and she shakes her head. “Sorry sir, I just thought you were unhappy with my service or something and wanted to know who to call to complain to or something.” That’s a low opinion, although whether it's of myself or her I’m unsure. I shake my head negatively though, and placate her. “No, no, nothing like that. You were perfect. And call me Bruce, I will be taking you on a date after all, as long as you're interested.” 

She pauses for a moment, thinking it over, before looking me in the eyes and nodding. “I would like that, I think.” She responds. I give her an award winning smile, and say “Then I’ll text you the details. Now you’ve been wonderful, Darling, but I do need to leave before Julie notices I’m not in the bathroom.” And with that I turn towards the window. “So you're taking the window?” Genevieve asks incredulously. I shoot her a smirk over my shoulder as I open the window and climb out. 

“She’d notice the front door! And I’d hate to be rude.” I call back, and Genevieve comes closer to watch as I make my way down the fire escape. “And this isn’t?” She asks. “She’ll find it more amusing this way, and besides she’ll expect this of me.” I answer, slowly climbing down so as to not look like I do this every night. Not even a playboy is escaping by window every night. When I look up, Genevieve is smiling at me with a raised eyebrow. “Do this often, then?” She asks teasingly. I actually give her a genuine smile back, she looks better when not so nervous. 

“I did back in highschool. Do me a favour?” I ask. Genevieve laughs a little, but nods back at me. “Don’t tell her it was the kitchen window?” I say, covering my tracks. Genevieve smiles down at me. “I won’t.” She promises, and goes back into the kitchen and closes the window after her. Once I’m sure she’s not looking, I scale down the fire escape with much more practice and speed than Bruce Wayne is known for. The Batmobile is right where I directed it to, and I enter quickly. 

I direct it to drive to the robbery as I get changed, and I call Alfred while I’m at it. “Yes, Master Bruce?” Pennyworth's voice comes through the comms clear as day. “Text Julie Madison an apology, something came up at Wayne Enterprises and needed my immediate attention. I won’t be coming back.” I say. I can almost envision Alfred’s disapproving gaze. “I thought you were on a date, sir?” He prods. “No, turns out it was a reunion. But I do have a date, reserve a table at a nice restaurant in the next few days.” I order. “I thought you weren’t interested in Julie, sir?” Alfred asks. “It’s not with Julie.” I say, and take control of the Batmobile, speeding it down the streets of Gotham. “Batman out.” I say, ending the line before Alfred can respond. 

I’ll deal with that after the robbery, and after patrol. Whenever I get home.

— Flash Ticket —

_ Barry Allen POV _

My work as a forensic Detective is just as important to me as my work as the Flash. I think I wasn’t already working to fight crime, doing it with my powers wouldn’t have come as naturally to me. So I do take my work seriously, no matter what others say. But the thing about work is that it comes with colleagues. The Flash doesn’t really have colleagues, at least I haven’t run into any yet. My work for the Central City Crime Lab though? That comes with plenty of colleagues, colleagues who love to rag on me. 

“Barry, I saw you flirt with Kristen when she first got here, and if that’s how you flirt with everyone – no wonder you never get the girl.” James Forrest teases me as we walk back from the local coffee shop, our arms full of different drinks for the office. “Hey! That flirting was good! She just wasn’t interested! That doesn’t mean my flirting was bad!” I defend myself hotly, managing to balance the two full drink carriers I’m holding as I turn to glare at him slightly. James just laughs. 

“Nah Man, it was so bad. Your lines were so cheesy! No way that ever works.” He doubles down, looking smug. I grumble a little. “It totally works.” He raises an eyebrow at me. “Has it? Has it really?” I pout a little, because as much as I hate it, he’s not wholly wrong. I haven’t gotten a date yet from a single girl I’ve asked. Hell, I don’t even get dates as the Flash! I know it’d be a terrible idea and all, but it doesn’t matter, because even as a hero I can’t seem to pull it off. Is it the flirting style that’s the problem? Or is it just me? 

As I think this I spot someone in the park, behind James. A gorgeous brunette, sitting alone at a park bench, just eating a sandwich and reading a newspaper. This is my chance! I’ll show him that I can flirt. “Hold this. Watch. I got this!” I say, and put my two drink carriers on top of his. “Hey!” James exclaims, struggling to balance all of the drinks, but I don’t pay him any mind and confidently stride towards the girl. 

It’s gonna work this time. 

— Break Line —

_ Barry Allen POV _

I run my hand through my hair as I approach the woman on the bench. She looks focused on her newspaper, but not deaf to the world. She’s dressed professionally, but I don’t see a ring. So I’m not homewrecking, hopefully. She finishes the sandwich in the time it takes me to walk over. I stop about a foot or two away from, I don’t want to crowd her like an asshole or something. 

“Hey beautiful, what’s your name?” I say, making sure I’m smiling and not slouching. She looks up, looking a little confused and wary. She eyes me up and down, spares a glance around to see that I’m not talking to anyone else, before looking back up at me. “Oh, uh… Charlotte?” She says slowly, and I smirk. I have just the line for this. “No surname? That’s fine, my names’ Barry Allen, and I wouldn’t mind lending you mine.” 

She keeps looking at me with those pretty green eyes, and stumbles for a moment - “Wha - you -” until she cuts herself off by laughing out loud. Her eyes close with the laugh a little, and she brings her hand up to cover her mouth, letting her newspaper fall to her lap. I wilt at her reaction. “Aw, it’s not that bad is it?” I say, my tone just short of a whine. I thought I had this. 

She responds through chuckles. “Depends how much you meant it. Seriously? So bad - but ironically? That was so good -” I perk up with a – “Really?” Hey, I’ll take it. She may think it's funny, but she doesn’t hate it. Still laughing, Charlotte manages to answer me with – “Yes!” With that, I slide into the spot beside her on the bench. I can and will do this, I can woo her. 

I slip my arm on the back of the bench, resting it behind her but not touching. I haven’t asked if she’s okay with that yet. “Want another?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrow for comedic effect. Charlotte gives me a blinding smile, her eyes shining with mirth. I could get lost in those eyes, and I wouldn’t mind. “If it’s as funny as the last one? Absolutely!” God, you can hear her smile in her voice, it’s contagious. 

“Did you just come out of the oven?” I eagerly ask. “Pft -  no.” Charlotte responds. “Damn! Then we better call the fire department, because you're smoking hot!” And I emphasize the end with an exaggerated wink. Charlotte begins to laugh out loud again, and I haven’t heard a better sound in my life. I want to keep hearing it, so I keep going. “I’m learning about important dates in history, want to be one of them?” 

At this point Charlotte fully lets go of her newspaper, and it slips off her lap, and she holds onto her side and the seat of the bench to keep from falling over in laughter. I push on, this is great. “Are you a flower? Because I wanna’ Bee with you forever!” Charlotte's head tilts back as she laughs, and I can’t help but feel some laughter bubble up in me. This is fun, this is amazing, this is working. 

 “Call me mister Flintstone, ‘Cause I can –” Charlotte holds her hand up and I stop talking, but her face is still smiling. “Stop! Stop! I’m gonna laugh myself to death!” She says, and I start to laugh at myself. I can’t say my flirting has ever gotten this reaction before, but I don’t hate it. In fact, I like it a lot. Charlotte wipes a tear from her eye as she rights herself, a few breathy laughs escaping her as she calms down. My own giggles come to a slow stop as well, and we both just bask in the joyful energy of the moment for a second. 

Charlotte turns to me with a smile on her pretty face, her lips quirking in amusement. “Barry Allen, you are a riot. It’s Eakins by the way.” Eakins? What? “Huh?” I end up saying, and my confusion must be very apparent on my face because Charlotte can’t help but giggle at it. “My last name, it’s Eakins.” She explains once she stops giggling. I exaggerate a pout on my face. 

“Aw, not Allen?” I joke, and Charlotte laughs again. I like making her laugh. “You’re funny, but I need more than pick-up lines to convince me.” She teases. I give her my best smile, which at this point I don’t even need to try, she just makes me smile. “But you’re open to being convinced?” I ask. 

“I just nearly fell off this bench laughing, and you think I’m not?” Charlotte leans forward, her voice still happy, but there is a sweeter tone behind what she just said. Am I about to get a date? I think I am. “Doesn’t hurt to be sure, so, how about –” I’m cut off by the sound of a phone alarm coming from Charlotte's back pocket. Charlotte looks panicked for a second as she pulls out her phone, and I watch her turn off a 12:45 pm alarm, and then look at me with a sad and sorry expression. 

“Shoot, sorry, I gotta go. This is my lunch break, and that means it’s over.” She says sheepishly, and stands up, putting her phone in her purse and shouldering it. She reaches down for her newspaper, and I scramble to hold onto her newspaper as well as she straightens. This was going well! “Wait! Can I have your number before you go?” It’s now or never it seems. 

“Planning on convincing me?” Charlotte asks, her smile coming back. I smile back. “I’d like to try.” I say, hoping my sincerity comes across in my tone. Charlotte bites her bottom lip in thought for a second, before letting go of the newspaper for the second to take out a business card and hand it to me. “Alright, here. Text me sometime, and I’ll see if I can make some time. Sell me on the surname and all that.” She says, and we trade the newspaper for the card. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring a powerpoint.” I say, and it makes Charlotte laugh. I like doing that. “Thanks for making me laugh, at least. Bye!” She turns and walks away, presumably in the direction of her work. “Anytime!” I call, and I tear my gaze away from her retreating form to examine the card she gave me. It’s a business card. Charlotte Eakins, Star Labs, Receptionist, and her number and email. Oh yeah, she was definitely dressed professionally. 

James approaches me not a moment later, setting the miraculously still unspilled drinks on the bench beside me. He looks disgruntled, probably because I left him holding so much stuff, and also watches Charlotte reach the end of the park, glance back, and then cross the street. I wave at her back, but she's already turned around. 

“So? How’d you fuck that up?” James asks. I wave the card in front of his face. “I didn’t! It worked! I’ve got a date!” And man, I am excited for it. I can already tell, it’s going to be amazing. James balks at my proof. “What the fuck? No way –” He exclaims, but I hold my hand in front of his face as I tuck her card safely away in my coat pocket. “Talk to the hand, James, talk to the hand. My flirting rocks.” Because guess what, I got the girl. I got a date. 

---

Hey! I'm going to continue this story on Ao3 if you want to read more!

You and Your Two Heaters~

A/n: Wrote while on my period and wanted some comfort, then I remembered that I can write and made this. Not proofread, might edit later, might not, who knows ♪⁠～⁠(⁠´⁠ε⁠｀⁠ ⁠). Anyways, enjoy⁠♡

You lay on your side within the warm safety of your nest on your bed, accompanied by your too big of a dog cuddled into your stomach called Lillie. She had joined you after hearing you whimpering from your cramps and after ensuring her you were in fact not injured, she cuddled right up against your lower stomach where it hurt the most. Because of this though, she ended up taking your heater of a boyfriend's side of the bed like she owned the spot. With a hand combing through her fur and the other holding up your phone, everything was peaceful even with your uterus deciding to curse you.

“Oh I see how it is,” that familiar gruff voice makes you smile as you turn your head to find your loveable boyfriend standing at the doorway looking playfully offended. “I leave for only an hour and I come back to have my spot stolen,” he huffs out as he sets a grocery bag down and strides to our bed.

“You snooze, you lose?” You slightly giggle out as you feel the thump of Lillie's tail wagging on the sheets. Lillie only nuzzles further into you as you laugh lightly at the cute sight. Your boyfriend mutters something along the lines of “you're lucky you're cute” before he gives you a small peck to your cheek and forces his way into your little nest.

“Did you generate more blankets while I was away? Cause there's definitely more in here than when I left,” he teases as he embraces you and adjusts you all. Lillie moved to lay more on top of you as you lay on your back, her head still on your stomach and providing warmth for your aching muscles.

“Not my fault if Lillie added some more,” you coo as you give your pup some head scratches while all three of you get comfortable again. You wince as a cramp hits harder than before and you're tempted to curl into yourself if it weren't for Lillie and your boyfriend helping you.

“I got ya princess, ‘m right here,” he purrs into your ear as he massages your pelvic region and places little butterfly kisses all along your face. You feel a small lick to your hand from Lillie and you smile softly at the boundless love surrounding you like a heavy blanket. You sink further into your little nest and lay happily with your dog and boyfriend as they comfort you through the pain. You get so comfortable that you doze off after a while, listening to the gentle sound of your boyfriend's heartbeat and your pup’s soft snoring while a movie plays in the background. Nothing could be better than this…except minus the period pain.

Lazy Morning~

A/N: I wrote this half asleep listening to Nonsense by Sabrina Carpenter so this is definitely not proof read and may not make sense, but I'ma still post it cause who's gonna stop me ಠಿ⁠_⁠ಠ. Also, I had no one in mind for writing this so you can imagine whoever you want. Anyways, enjoy and I hope you have a good day or night.

You slowly blink away tears as you yawn, your nose cold and your fingers wrapped around something soft. You lift your head up and find your lover sound asleep still with your hands buried in his hair. With zero restraint and being far too tired to care, you grip his head a little and hide your cold nose in his neck. You feel him stirr underneath you as warm arms snake around your waist and a gentle squeeze to your sides.

“What're you doing?” you feel him murmur into your ear with his morning voice adding a rumble to his words. While normally you'd be a menace and tease him about his voice, your brain felt too fuzzy to even form a proper sentence as you press your face further into his neck.

“Nose cold…” you slur out while you snuggle into him like a chick nuzzling into its mother's feathers. You hear him chuckle deeply and feel the warm blankets on your back get pulled up more.

“Can't have that now can we,” he chuckles out as he lets you do as you please. Content to be your heated teddy bear for the moment as he threads his fingers through your messy hair. Sighing, you kiss the nape of his name with a small “thanks” before you doze off back to sleep. Fully embraced and safe in your lover's arms as he rubs circles on your back to keep you asleep. He places a kiss on your forehead as he accepts his fate and feels contentment to have a lazy morning with you. He'd keep your nose warm always, even when you could barely form a sentence.

Clark Kent Praises and Tries to Keep You Quiet

Pairing: Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, praise kink, keeping quiet, size kink, moaning, Clark being a gentle giant

A/N: This big beautiful himbo lives rent free in my brain.

"Baby, I need you to keep it down a little. Jimmy just went to sleep." The times you fucked in at Clark's place were far and few between as it was only done if both of you were so horny you couldn't hold out. The two of you barely made it to the living room before Clark thrust his cock into your pussy and lifted you into the air, one hand at the back of your neck, the other in the middle of your back, and your legs wrapped tight around his broad hips. He couldn't keep his lips away from yours, not only to quiet you but also because he missed you so damn much through the day, he couldn't help himself.

Keeping your noises down was easier when you had his lips to keep your occupied but when Clark moved down your neck and took a nipple into his mouth you had to try really hard to keep quiet. There was also the splitting feeling of his cock ramming into your pussy as it kept clenching impossibly tighter around him, the wonderful warm feeling that made him moan as well, but then again you found out very early into your relationship that he couldn't stay quiet around you.

It was a real conundrum for the both of you. You loved hearing each other's noises, whines, praise and whimpers but at the same time you needed to keep each other quiet so you wouldn't wake his roommate up and have Clark face eternal teasing as a result.

"Bit more sweetheart, just a bit more. Stay quiet for me okay? Damn it, you feel so amazing around my cock." Clark begged, slamming his cock balls deep inside of you, lips on yours in an instance, a kiss that silenced the resulting moans the best as it could. You almost bit his tongue as a reaction as your orgasm hit you, every part of your body going tense and then fully slack in his muscular arms, including your legs which now dangled at his sides.

He kept moving, hips a blur, balls smacking against you, moaning into your mouth, kissing you with every ounce of passion and love he had to give. Clark was a big man, he had a lot to give, not just his feelings but his cum too which painted your inner walls in rapid waves. He floated you both onto the couch when he was done, his arms keeping you close to his warm both, his kisses now much more gentle, "I think you were louder. You might wanna look into buying your own place if you wanna keep doing this Clark."

His chest rose and feel with a big, content, happy sigh, his cock still snug inside your pussy, "I'll see what I can do about both those things. In the morning." You wanted to tell him that the Sun was almost up anyway but he looked to comfortable to disturb. You could cuddle for a bit longer.

Silvery Moon

Attn: Any questions about this post refer here.

Word Count: 1,707

Pairing: Werewolf! Clark Kent x Reader

Summary: You and Clark have been best friends forever one night he reveals a secret to you.

Warnings: scenting, 18+, oral (female receiving), rough/primal sex (p in v), belly bulge, marking, mentions of breeding, creampie, knotting, squirting

You and Clark Kent had been neighbors and best friends for as long as your could remember. You were adults now and you lived in your parent’s old house, them having gave it to you and retired to a tropical climate. He lived in the farm house, now owner and operator of Kent Farms, the most successful farming company in Smallville.

You were his logistics person, handling all the shipping and freight details. You two were so close people often wondered why the two of you weren’t married yet with a yard full of kids. Honestly you often wondered the same. You’d loved Clark for so many years now, and sometimes it felt like he loved you too, but he kept you at arm’s length for some reason. It made you ache, but you knew just as well as anyone else you can’t make someone love you.

You two pretty much knew everything about one another aside from one thing. You had no idea where Clark went for about a week every month. He made sure someone knew how to run things in his absence but never gave a single hint of where he’d be.

The week was upon you and like always poof, he was gone. You’d gotten used to it over the years but you couldn’t help but wonder why all the mystery surrounding his monthly sabbaticals.

That night you sat out in your porch, looking a the huge silvery moon and could hear a wolf howling in the distance. It was late and you figured now was as good a time as any for bed so you headed in and fell into a deep sleep. You’d been out a few hours when you heard frantic knocking at your door. It startled and disoriented you so badly you hadn’t even thought to cover yourself before you threw open the door, so there you stood in your thin tank top and panties in front of a very disheveled Clark.

“Clark what- what’s wrong?,” you said, taking him in. He was shirtless, pants legs all torn, his hair and beard had a few twigs of debris in them, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his entire body. When you looked into his eyes his baby blues seemed to be alight, although perhaps that was just a trick of the bright moonlight shining over him. “Clark,” you whispered.

He seemed to snap out of his trance and advanced on you, backing you into the wall in your entryway, caging you between his arms. He buried his face in your neck and inhaled deeply. A deep growl rumbled from his chest. “You smell so good Butterfly. Always smell so good,” he rasped as the hair of his beard tickled your skin. You gasped when he pressed his hips into yours and you felt his hard cock against you. “Clark, what’s going on?,” you asked taking his face in your hands. You looked into his eyes and they were definitely glowing.

You looked at him confusedly. “I need to leave,” he said through gritted teeth. “Why?,” you asked. “Because of what I am and what you are to me,” he strained. “What do you mean?,” you asked, desperate to understand. “I’m a werewolf, Butterfly. It’s why I go away during the full moon. It’s why I stay away for a week, while I’m in rut,” he panted as he rocked his hips into yours gently. You were still just as confused as ever when he leaned in an inhaled your scent again, groaning deeply. His fingers flexed so hard against the wall he was digging into it.

“I- it’s okay, Clark,” you assured him. You didn’t care what he was, you still loved him. “You don’t understand. You’re my mate. I’ve kept myself away because I don’t want to hurt you,” he said. “Clark, you’d never hurt me,” you told him. “Normally I wouldn’t but when I’m like this… Once I start I won’t be able to be gentle, Butterfly. I won’t be able to make love to you like I’d like to. All there’ll be is need. Need to bury myself deep into you, need to mark you, need to breed you. Usually I chain myself up, use toys, and wish like hell they were you, but tonight I broke loose. I ran away but I could still smell you, and now here I am, exactly where I shouldn’t be,” he told you.

“Or maybe it’s right where you should be,” you breathed, everything suddenly making so much sense to you now. All the years of longing for him, needing him. No way you were going to let him go now. “You’d have me like this?,” he asked as he cupped your jaw, his touch setting your skin on fire. “I’d have you any way you are Clark. I love you. I’ve always loved you,” you said as you clung to him.

“I’ve always loved you too,” he said before crashing his lips into yours with a bruising kiss. He lifted you from the floor, you wrapping your legs around him, as he carried you to the bedroom. He ripped your clothes off before ridding himself of his pants. When you saw his cock your heart rate accelerated. “I’m not sure it’ll fit,” you told him, as you ran your hands over it. You noticed the distinct bump all the way around the base of it. “What’s this?,” you asked. “My knot. You’ll take it, and all the rest of me, Butterfly. It was meant for you, and your soaked little pussy was meant for me. I can smell how wet you are already,” he groaned as he got on top of you.

He kissed your lips, then your neck. He took some time sucking and nipping at your breasts before all but shoving his tongue into your cunt. “Clark,” you moaned. “Mmmm,” he groaned, sending the vibration through you. He lapped up to your clit before returning to your entrance. “Best thing I’ve ever tasted,” he murmured before diving back in. He began stroking your clit with his thumb while somehow shoving his tongue deeper into you. “Uhhh Clark. I’m gonna come,“ you keened. “Come on my mouth,” he encouraged before continuing. Just then your cunt clamped down on his tongue, him humming in approval.

He licked all the way back up your body before lining up with your tight hole. He eased in, gritting his teeth. When he got nearly halfway in he leaned back, grabbed your hips and slammed the rest of the way into you, making you cry out. There was such a carnal lust in his eyes that you should’ve been frightened, but you weren’t. Sure it hurt a bit, but this was years in the making, you loved him, and wanted to take whatever he had to give.

He pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, taking your breath away. He looked at the way your belly bulged, full with his length and began rutting into you furiously. “Ohh. You take me so well Butterfly. Such a good little mate. This cunt was made for me. Looks and feels so perfect wrapped around me,” he mumbled. All you could do was whine and cry beneath him as you held onto his wrists. You turned your head and bit down on your knuckle, trying to contain yourself when he grabbed your hand and pinned it down to the bed.

“I want to hear every little sound,” he demanded. You whimpered, knowing the beast had taken over. He wouldn’t ease up. He began thumbing at your clit and it helped somewhat. It took awhile but pain finally ebbed into pleasure. “That’s it. Take it like the good little mate that you are Butterfly. I knew you’d always be so good for me,” he praised. He leaned down and kissed you hungrily right before you came, your thighs shaking around him. “Shit,” you whimpered. “I’m so close baby. Gonna give you my knot and mark you when I come,” he said airily.

“Mark?,” you managed. He turned your head and ran his fingertips over the side of your throat. “Right here. Gonna bite into you right here. Let everybody know you’re mine,” he growled. The thought both scared and enthralled you. He pushed into you so deep, rutting in. With a few more thrusts you came again, squirting lightly around his massive cock. He pulled out quickly, putting his face between your legs again to taste your nectar. “Clark,” you screamed as his ministrations made you come again.

“Fuck yes,” he growled before slamming back into you. “Come here,” he said as he snatched you up and sat back on his knees. He slammed you down onto to him as he thrusted into you. You could feel his knot trying to push up into you. “Clark I-,” you stammered. “Shhh, baby. Shhh,” he said between kisses as he continued. His knot finally worked its way in, the overwhelming feeling making you quake.

“Gonna come,” he roared before biting down on you. You cried out, unimaginable pain and pleasure washing over you as his cock began to pulse. You could feel the thick, hot ropes of his come filling you fuller than you’d ever been. “So much,” you groaned in your fucked out stated. He lapped at the bite marks on your neck while playing with your clit. You shivered as you came one last time. He positioned you around so he could curl up behind you until his knot went down.

He held you so close, kissing the side of your face, neck and shoulder as you shook in his arms. “You did so good Butterfly. Thank you. Thank you for letting me have you, for loving me. I love you so much,” he said softly against your skin. “I love you so much too Clark,” you smiled happily. “Rest now, baby. After my knot goes down I’ll get you some nourishment and it won’t be long until I need you again,” he told you. “I’ll be ready,” you whispered before drifting off to sleep.

Taglist:

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FAMILIARITY

absolute trinity x reader | sfw

CW! gn! reader, slight angst, character x reader romantically involved, multiverse shenanigans, drabbles, spoilers for absolute comics

Summary! Absolute Trinity meeting their s/o from the mainstream universe

BATMAN

"Bruce..."

His name was soft off your lips. The heat was hot on her skin as you looked up at the tank of a mine in front of you. The Batman from your home was less big, actually a lot.

"You know me...?" His voice felt hostile. Albeit it wasn't your Bruce it was him. He was big and still handsome. "You’re different from where I know you." You smiled at him.

He was still confused it seemed.

"You can take off your mask, Bruce." You asked hesitantly.

"How can I trust you?" His lips morphed into a scowl.

You faltered but you raised your head, “I’m not sure what’ll make you trust me, but I do know your parents would be very proud of you. I know that, and my version of you knows that. Even if he doubts it.”

Bruce stared at you blankly. His giant hand raised to bull down his cowl to reveal a very young man with still some wonder in those eyes. Short black hair and baggy eyes.

You stepped forward and cradling his face between you hands. Bruce didn’t know why but he allowed you himself to lean down for you.

“You’ve been working hard.” You smiled quite sadly, “Things never change do they.” You said it like it was a fact instead of question.

He titled his head with narrowing eyes. “The other you is rich, but also just as sad. He works so hard and is always blaming himself. Doing everything to make sure Gotham thrives. Things never change.”

He nodded. His blue eyes blanking as they stared at you. Only seeing love in those eyes of yours. No matter what he’s done, or perhaps violent, whether it was him or the other him you’d love him.

“He treats you good?”

“Always. He cares too much, so much it’ll kill him if he’d ever to lose me or anyone else he cares about.” You reassured.

Bruce found himself thinking that when he met his world’s you he’d protect you too. If this was you and your original then he’d protect you too.

Yeah, he couldn’t lose anyone else otherwise he’d lose it too.

WONDER WOMAN

“Woah you’re so tall and pretty!” You giggled when looking up at the woman with flowing dark hair, blue eyes, and red tattoos.

Diana, but not your Diana. Someone who belonged to the darkness, but good. She was intimidating but she was warm like the sun. Just like your Diana.

“Why thank you.” It was her, definitely. “You’re not from here. You came through with magic. May I ask how that happened?” She mused with a tiny laugh as you got a look at her prosthetic arm.

“A man named Savage made a device that sent people to different universes. It broke in the fight and I got sucked in.”

You played with the parts of your hero costume as you stared up at her tall stature. “My Diana, she tried to save me but couldn’t reach me.” You thought of your Wonder Women.

Just as beautiful and dressed in blue,yellow, red, and white. Flowing black hair and her blue eyes. She looked like a goddess and looked like light.

“My Diana? Another version of me, good [ ]?”

“Yes, my Diana is a lot less dressed in darkness and born in Paradise Island, a land full of women called Amazons.” You noted how she froze when she heard you speak.

You wavered over her expression. “You aren’t from Themyscira. From Hell maybe?”

“How did you figure it?” Diana’s brows were up to her forehead as you giggled. “You’re whole getup kinda screams hell. But you’re still my Diana. I can see that.”

Diana hadn’t met you in her reality. She hoped you existed here, and was just as kind as you.

A smile that made you shine like the sun. A sun that Diana only experienced when she arrived her on Earth.

“I see. Well I’m glad your perception is of me being evil.” She summed up. Her arms bulking as she crossed her arms. Your eyes glittered in excitement as she did so.

“Of course, because no matter how my Diana looks I’ll always love her.” The heat from your cheeks were loud. Diana couldn’t deny the flush of her cheeks.

Truly you were the birth of the Gods. A treasure she would protect; in every universe and any version of you.

SUPERMAN

Clark, or Kal-El floating in the air with blue eyes that were haunting. He didn’t give off that golden retriever aura like you were so used to.

He wasn’t all that huge, and this Superman was lean yet fit. Those eyes weren’t all that calming but haunting. Bright gold was shining off of his suit. Long hair and fair amount of stubble on his chin and jaw.

He was distant.

So unlike your Kal-El. In fact there was no Clark Kent. Simply the his Kyrptonian identity.

If was it was there then it was nonexistent.

Suddenly you felt a red cape surround you. Kal-El coming down and wrapping it around you. Your clothes were ripped. How you got here, but all you knew is that a machine by Gorilla Grodd broke and here you were.

That last memory being Clark being too late in saving you. Tears flowing from his eyes as you escaped into a blue light, and here you were.

“Kal-El…”. You shakily spoke.

“You know me?” He spoke. His voice still as he stared at you blankly. His mind twisting in gears. “Yes, but not mine. I can see that. I’m not from here.” You looked around to see the torn down buildings.

“You’re so much different from my Kal-El. My Superman is much more smiley, but I can see there’s goodness in you.” You looked hopeful into your eyes.

“This world is ugly. Some of these humans are ugly.”

His words made you still. Kal-El looked at you when he felt you falter. Shock in your eyes. That expression fatally fell to a sad smile.

“This world has been cruel to you.” Your hand drifted to his face. He didn’t know why but he allowed himself to melt into your touch. “But you still want to help. Humans are horrible but still fighting will make a difference.”

His expression seemed somewhere else. Like he was hearing someone else’s voice. Blue eyes flickering everywhere for anyone around you two. They came back to you and looking your eyes, locking eyeballs.

A hopeful look in them, “In your world, is it good?”

“Yes, and evil. But we do our best because even the tiniest effort can make the difference, Kal-El.” You gave him a smile. Cupping his face to which he melted.

A loud explosion was heard from elsewhere. Immediately you found yourself in his chest. His suit feeling different, and not made out of cloth like your Superman.

Kal-El made up his mind. Until you could return back to your universe he would protect you. Your world needed your goodness, and so did his other version.

After all it was true. Even if his suit said otherwise. Because maybe a world can be saved from themselves.

Just one step at a time.

GENTLE GIANT

corenswet! clark kent x reader | nsfw

CW! female reader, size difference, size kink, fluffy, soft dom clark, sub reader, strength kink (?), vaginal penetration, praise kink, fingering, cunnilingus, protected sex

he’s cute, this is self-indulgent, and I’m not sorry

You whined lowly as he lulled you against his chest. Hands of yours peaking at his pronounced chest with trembles.

A thick feeling beneath the cloth of his boxers. Big hands that were calloused rested on your hips. You shivered at the warm touch on your cold body.

He was always warm. Too warm.

“Shh it’s okay.” His hands rubbed your hips as you whimpered. Softly, you grinded and humped on his erection.

“Good job, darling.” Clark was smiling sweetly. His eyes full of love and swarmed with affection and pride at you.

With by his side he pulled down his boxers to reveal the gigantic organ that was now pulsing on your thigh.

Wasn’t the first time you took him but it still shook you just how giant he was. In fact, everything about him was big. A gentle giant of a man that loved you too the moon and back.

You gulped, and he lulled you back to focusing on him. Angled your hips against lower belly so that his erection could be placed against your rear end.

“Come here, darlin.” You whined lowly, almost a whimper as you made your way over his face. Gently his hands grasping you hips and lowered you down. His hot layered on your cunt.

“Clark…” You whined as his tongue curved up into you and on your clit. One hand moved to play with your clit, while one held your hips tight. Even with one hand he was able to keep you from moving.

“Mmh!” You covered your mouth while one hand grasped his wrist. Your hips moved little by little but even so you still didn’t move from his hot mouth. Clark ate you out passionately.

“Up we go!” A light laugh from Clark made you flush red as you were dropped onto the white sheets. His hands gripping your thighs and digging into once again. His arms wrapped over your hips and stomach, which allowed him to taste you and to finger you.

It left you in a moment of complete bliss. Head back against the pillow as you moaned loudly. His giant hands cupping your entire cunt easily. Even kissing your cunt before diving in his tongue deep.

“Clark! Too much-“

The Kryptonian pulled back with substance stringing down his lips. Licking them as he kissed you deeply. His hands going in different directions; one holding your hip and the other grabbing a condom.

As you two make out he covered his thick manhood in the rubber material.

Separating your were already panting. By patting your thigh you opened them and rested them on his shoulders. You were shaking lightly and he rested warm hands on your gently. Comfort from them.

He kissed your thighs he pumped his cock. The tip against his entrance and you were already whining.

“Alright here we go.”

You gripped his thick arms as he lowered himself into you. The stretch being tight and slow as he entered your slowly. Every vein and thick girth stretching you beyond belief.

Never would you be able to take him without prep. Either way you loved the way he would eat and finger you.

To distract you he kissed you once again. This time so much more hard. Bruising your lips as you attempted to whine from him finally bottoming out.

“You okay?” His hands cupped your face as you sniffed. Tiny tears in your eyes that he wiped away. You nodded your head and he shook his head.

“I need words baby.”

“I’m okay.”

He smiled at you. “Good job, baby.” He kissed your forehead before beginning his assault on your cervix. He always hit it and you couldn’t have been happier.

He started slow then it became quick and fast. Passionate and comforting as he praised you through out the whole ordeal. His forehead against yours and staring into your eyes deeply and intently.

His hips slamming down into your pelvis. Although it hurt a little you didn’t. He was doing his best to hold back, and even then you didn’t mind a bit of pain.

Especially if it was coming from him.

“I’m gonna-“.

You moaned as you pressed your head harder against his temple. His hand grabbed your thighs and into a mating press he started to thrust harder and harder.

“Do it darling. You can do it. I know you can my sweet girl.” His lips kissed your neck. Heavy breath on your neck as you came hard.

In sweet bliss you allowed him to ravage you. He kept going. His giant size swallowing you as he took your body to a more heavenly plane.

You gasped as he pulled out immediately when he finally felt his body coil. Off came the condom and he jerked himself off onto your lower belly.

“Clark…” You moaned out; asking.

He complied and kissed you.

In each other’s arms and with a kiss sealing your souls together. A tiny thing and a giant.

A human and an alien.

Sweetness filled your gut as he kissed you again. Praises into your ear as his hand drifted to your cunt once again. You moaned again pleased.

You were in for another ride, and you complied. Hiding yourself in his neck you moaned as he once again sent you to heaven.

Heaven with him.

A golden egg in a gentle giant’s tower.

me tryna read a long ass fanfic but I know I have a attention span that's shortter than 15 seconds:

Idk who needs this but:

All the constantly freaked out shit is CORNY and gives loser + the h3nt@i headers have gone too far like just go watch p_rn atp🤦🏽‍♀️.

Edit: I’m not reading all that so argue with the wall. Other genres exist BESIDES smut. It wouldn’t hurt to write more of those.

All I’m going to say is: if y’all fucked this up and creeped her off the internet, I want financial compensation😐. It’s fun to have fun but you have to know how and the fact that it’s gotten this bad proves y’all don’t know how. Objectification and harassment is a new low.

Be better.

If she doesn’t come back I swear I’ll crash out. She truly is the cvntiest of us all.

Quick chat.

I hate being the fun police but here goes.

While I do love that so many of you lovelies are enjoying my fics and writing, I have to address some of the things that are being commented/reblogged under my posts.

We’re all here for a silly goofy time but there’s boundaries. Respectfully, all the people telling me in great detail all the ways they fucked themselves to my fics, all the people asking me to roleplay certain stuff with them, need to stop. It’s weird. Having sexual reactions towards my writing is fine but don’t involve me because I’m not some sexual object.

Commenting the regular stuff like “I had a reaction”, “both lips smiled”, “ugh right there”, “great now I’m pregnant”, “I could kiss you”, “raw next question”, or anything like that is FINE (if we’re moots you can say whatever you want I love you) because it makes me smile because i love hearing your feedback and I also find it funny but all that other shit gotta go.

Now onto the problem with my ask box.

Stop spamming and flooding it begging me to drop more parts of anything. There’s so many that I can’t even get to all my previous asks. It’s genuinely harassment at this point and it’s annoying. My salesman series and Clark series are pretty liked on my page and even though I put the Clark fic out only two days ago, the spam asks are already starting.

I’d love to update everything but I won’t especially now since I feel like I’m being swarmed or harassed.

Again, sorry to ruin the fun but it’s getting to be a bit much.

revealing my alter ego

𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝐴𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐵𝑜𝑦

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader

A/N: I watched maybe two seasons of this show last year and kind of moved past it. I randomly got a Clark Kent fic on my feed last night and suddenly I have a demon in my brain telling me to write. Anyway, there is a horrendous lack of full fledged, non-smut fics for this man, so, here you go.

Summary: Your friend has been distant for months, all of a sudden he's a brand new man. He's practically a puppy dog following after you and you're not sure how to feel. What's a girl to do when she suddenly finds herself looking at not one, but two Clark Kent's?

“Have any plans?” You pull your English book from your locker, fingers stilling as you wait for Clark to respond. Silence stretches between you, long enough to make your brows furrow in confusion. Peering around the edge of your locker door with narrowed eyes, you let out a sigh. 

You should have seen this coming. As always, Clark is staring at Lana from across the hall, looking like he walked straight out of a sappy romance movie. 

She’s close, so close, but entirely out of his reach. She laughs, tucking a perfect, shiny strand of hair behind her ear, completely unaware of the way Clark pines for her. Always pining. Always looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world. 

You could gag. 

Slamming your locker shut, perhaps harder than necessary, you break Clark out of his trance as he flinches away from the noise. His head snaps toward you, blue eyes narrowed on the irritated scrunch of your face. You smile, forcing the snark out of your expression. 

“Did you say something?” His voice is kind, expression open, as though he’s finally ready to listen. But the bell rings, cutting into the moment. You only have a minute to sprint to the other side of school. 

“No,” you sigh, forcing the stilted smile to stay on your face, “I gotta go.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he offers, falling into step beside you. “That way you can tell me what you actually said,” he teases, giving you that familiar boyish grin that never fails to make you unravel. 

You bite your tongue for a moment, mind unraveling as you struggle with telling him the truth or not. This is stupid. He’s Clark, your best friend. Your stupid, oblivious, beautiful best friend. But the way he looks at you, soft and warm as he slows his stride so he can walk together a little longer. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

No. It will definitely still hurt. 

“Would you want to do something this weekend?” You rush it all out at once and immediately look away from him, terrified by what you might see on his face. 

There’s a beat of silence. Then Clark laughs, light and easy. Your stomach twists and your head shoots up, a disbelieving glare on your face. You’d known it would be unlikely that he’d return your feelings, but laughing seems below him. 

“Why’re you being so weird?” He shakes his head, still grinning. “We’ll just do a movie night like always.” He squeezes your shoulder, casual, friendly, a wholly innocent gesture. Nothing more and nothing different. It’s completely platonic to him, as it always is. It takes you a moment to realize that he took what you were saying the wrong way. Or, maybe this is just the gentlest way he knows how to let you down. 

“Right,” you struggle to keep your voice even but it doesn’t matter, the dejection slips through your tone. His smile falters slightly and he looks like he wants to say something when the shrill ring of the bell interrupts you both.

“I’ll see you later,” he offers but he sounds uncertain. Most of your plans have fallen through lately. Either because he was busy with Lana or off disappearing somewhere. You’re not sure, but you know the divide is growing larger between you both and you’re getting scared you’re going to lose him. 

“Sure,” you give him a flat smile and he hovers beside you for a moment, like he wants to fix this but doesn’t know how. 

“You’re going to be late,” you startle slightly and glance over your shoulder. Blake, a boy you share your English class with offers you a shy smile as he hovers by the door, holding it open for you to walk through.  

“Thanks,” you walk past them both and into class, not wanting to look at Clark any longer. You miss the sharp look Blake shoots Clark and the way your friend lingers by the door for a minute before rushing off to his own class. 

You slide into your seat, lucky to have gotten in before Mrs. Brown, lord knows she would love to make a spectacle of anyone being tardy. Blake follows not far behind you, slipping into the seat beside you as always. He’s nice enough, quiet, unassuming. You’ve never said more than a few words to each other, but right now all of his attention seems to be on you. 

He whispers your name and you give him a brief glance and smile, mind still wrapped up in Clark. “Um, I was going to ask,” he stutters over his words for a moment, swallowing thickly before finally meeting your eye. “Are you doing anything this weekend?”

“Yeah,” you answer absentmindedly. “I have plans with Clark,” you tell him shortly as Mrs. Brown walks in. You don’t have time to explain that you’ll probably just end up waiting around your house all weekend. Just to get a brief and incomprehensible explanation of why you were all alone on Monday. 

He sinks back in his seat with a sigh just as the teacher begins writing the assignment on the board. You shoot him a slightly concerned look before brushing the interaction off as nothing.

Standing in the line at The Talon has become almost a hobby for you. Not just because Clark drags you here constantly, but because he distracts Lana from actually taking any orders. The wait time seems to triple every time he walks into the shop. You hear people grumbling behind you and finally move toward Clark, breaking the unspoken rule of leaving him and Lana alone. 

“There’s a line, Clark,” you sing-song, warning him. The both of them flush, breaking their hushed conversation and shooting you a sheepish look. 

“I’m sorry,” Lana apologizes and you wave her off. “Do you want anything?” 

You’d been considering getting a muffin, but when you look over and see the lovesick smile Clark is giving her, you find your appetite has disappeared. “Uh, no, I’m good.”

Clark turns toward you with a soft frown and he nearly makes you forget just how much you resent him for dragging you along to see this. “I thought you were hungry.”

You glance back at Lana and find her eyes already on him. God, what’s the point of a breakup if you’re still obsessed with each other? “No, it’s alright.”

You move away from the counter to step outside, expecting him to stay there and continue flirting despite the angry customers behind them. You’re surprised when you hear his voice immediately beside you. 

“Hey,” he moves away from the door, a grin on his face. Face wrinkling in confusion, you nod your head in greeting even though you’d just seen him. Your eyes narrow in on the leather of his jacket and your head tilts in confusion. You swear he was wearing a zip up a moment ago. “What’re you doing?” He asks, tone light as he stands beside you closer than he normally would. 

“Uh,” you’re tempted to glance over your shoulder and make sure he isn’t still standing in The Talon. “Did you hit your head?” He flushes slightly and you laugh. “Just our usual friday endeavors, you moon over Lana and I hold back the mob of angry customers who just want a coffee.” Laughing to ease some of your own tension, it trails off when you see the smile drop from his face. 

His eyes narrow and he glances toward the shop, “Idiot,” he mutters. You shoot him an affronted look and he blanches, quickly correcting himself. “Me, not you.” You want to question him further but he slings an arm over your shoulder and redirects you away from the shop. Mind a blank slate, you feel your brain break slightly at the simple touch. 

When you were younger, before Lana, before either of you even knew what crushes were, something like this would mean nothing to you. As it is, though, your friendship seems to have dwindled to nothing but compulsory hangouts and the occasional conversation in the hallway. Something as simple as his arm around you has turned into everything for you. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” 

“Movies at your place, like usual,” you remind him. He must have slipped and hit his head on the way out of The Talon.  Either that, or he already forgot the plans you made just this morning. Neither would surprise you. 

His face screws up and he shakes his head, “God, that’s lame.” You scoff, shooting him an odd look, not bothering to remind him that it was his idea. “I mean what’s he-” 

Clark cuts himself off, glancing down at you before letting out a short laugh. “How ‘bout the fair?”

You reach up and press the back of your hand to his forehead. He gives you a bewildered laugh, taking your hand in his and grinning. “What are you doing?”

You lean back slightly, breathless at the awestruck way he’s looking at you. You’ve only ever seen him look at…

Lana, you’ve only ever seen a look like this directed at Lana. But now, those deep blue eyes are pulling you in and you feel helpless to fight them. You swallow hard, blinking while you try to remember what you were even going to say. 

“Uh,” licking your lips you don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement. “I was seeing if you had a fever. Since when do you want to go out?” 

He laces your fingers together and tugs you forward, “Since now.” 

Usually, you’re not so quick to look a gift horse in the mouth. Months, you’ve been praying he treats you with even a semblance of care he throws toward Lana. Now, you finally get it and you can’t help the sick tightening feeling in your stomach telling you this is all wrong.

The fair is less crowded than you had expected. Though, it is nearly the last day it’s in town, you suppose everyone’s already had their fill of it. You have been trying to get Clark to come with you for nearly a week, maybe this is why he had waited so long to join you. Some of the rides you actually got all to yourself. 

“You know these things are rigged,” you tease, watching as he tries and fails at the bottle toss for the third time. The bored teenage girl behind the booth briefly glances up from her book to glare at you both. You shoot her a sardonic smile and she turns to Clark. 

“You can just buy the stuffed animal, ya know?” She drawls. 

“That’s cheating-”

“Where’s the fun in that-”

You and Clark share a grin as you speak over each other. The girl pales at your joined voices and returns quickly to her book, muttering something about annoying couples. 

Your stomach flutters at the idea of you and Clark as a couple but you push it down. “Alright,” Clark chuckles and holds his arm out for you, “let’s get out of here.”

You slip your arm through his easily, smiling up at him. You’ve long since stopped questioning just how touchy he is. Clearly, he’s in a generous mood tonight and you feel like taking advantage of that as much as possible.

“Where to next?” He asks and your eyes crawl across the fairground, struggling to find something you haven’t already done. 

You toss what must be your third lemonade in the closest bin and shoot him a sheepish smile. “I think I’ll need to go to the bathroom before we do any more rides.”

He’s slow to let you go, hand drifting down to hold yours as he steps back. “I’ll wait by the ferris wheel,” he tells you lowly. 

Your cheeks flush, eyes widening slightly as you slip away from him. The ferris wheel is notorious among Smallville students as the place to make a move. Everyone knows it’s just couples that ride up in those rickety old cars. Still, Clark is slightly oblivious to stuff like that. You don’t want to get your hopes up just for it to ultimately be nothing more than a friendly outing. 

Rushing toward the sad group of Port-a-potties you let out an annoyed sigh when you see the long line awaiting you. Your foot bounces against the dirt impatiently as you peer around the girl in front of you just to see there has to be, at least, ten people before you. 

There’s a vibration in your pocket before you hear the shrill ringing of your Nokia. Digging it out of your jeans you answer without checking the contact. “Hello?” The girl in front of you shoots you a dirty look and you take a step back from her. 

“Hey, where’re you?” You frown at the sound of Clark’s voice, glancing around like you might be able to spot him in the crowd. You’d told him where you were going, why would he be calling?

“You know where I am,” you tell him, chuckling. 

There’s a slight huff on the other end and you frown, he almost sounds disappointed. “What are you talking about? We were supposed to watch movies tonight.”

“Okay, Clark, I’m officially concerned. You’ve been acting weird all day. We’re at the fair,” you say slowly, over-enunciating your words like he’s slow. “You said movies were going to be lame.”

There’s a long pause and he utters your name in a concerningly serious tone. “The person you’re with-”

“Alright, do you mind?” The girl in front of you whips around and snaps at you. Blanching, you lower the phone from your ear and she shoots you an incredibly dirty look. 

“Clark, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” you whisper into the phone. 

“Wait-” 

You cut him off, hanging up and shoving your phone in your back pocket. She turns back around and rolls her eyes. It doesn’t take long for your Nokia to start ringing again but you figure you’ll just meet Clark by the ferris wheel like he said. 

Low groaning drifts through the noises of the crowd and makes you pause. Tilting your head around the corner of a trailer, the sounds only grow louder. Everything inside you says not to investigate, but the person sounds like they’re genuinely in pain. You can’t just walk away. 

“Hey,” you call out softly. “Are you okay?”

There’s no response and you take a hesitant step closer. A scuffed white converse slips from behind the back of the trailer and it looks worryingly similar to Clark’s. “Clark?” You call out, creeping a little further into the dark. 

It’s like a cocoon of silence back here, as though the shadows swallow the voices and loud cheering sounds of the games beyond you. “No,” the small voice croaks out. You see a hand in the dirt and they begin dragging themselves forward. You jump back a step, heart picking up as you watch them get to their feet. 

This was a stupid idea, walking toward a stranger in the dark. Even in Smallville you couldn’t trust everyone. They finally turn and you let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, Blake, hey.”

He gives you a weak grimace, clutching his stomach like he’s in pain. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” You ask, taking a step closer to him, trying to get a better look. 

“Fine, fine,” he stutters out, shifting just enough to keep his face half-hidden in the shadows.  Even knowing the person lurking within the shadows, you still feel slightly on edge. Something about the way he moves unsettles you. It’s not as though you know him well, he’s just a classmate. Someone quiet and harmless. Or, you hope he’s harmless, right now there’s something about him that feels wrong.

“Alright, um, if you’re sure,” you take a careful step backward. Your foot’s barely back on the ground when he lunges forward. His hands stretch toward you like he’s about to snatch you into the shadows with him. You’re stuck deciding whether you’re going to scream or bite him when he jerks back like a puppet being yanked on a string.  

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurts out, breathless. “Clark walked by. He- he told me to tell you he was leaving.”

Your stomach twists with panic. Right now you care more about not getting your throat slit in a dark alley than you do about Clark ditching you. Without a second thought, you turn on your heel and run out from between the trailers. You swear you hear footsteps, quick and light, following your path to the cars. 

Sliding into your car, you lock your doors and peel out of the lot. You leave the fair, and whatever just happened, behind, not looking back. The phone in your pocket vibrates again but you ignore it, too freaked out by what just happened to bother answering.  

Someone calls your name and you peer around the edge of your locker door, grimacing when you see Blake walking toward you. His brown hair is a mess, like he’s been fussing with it all morning, and his thick glasses, normally perched precariously on his nose, are nowhere to be seen. His normal polished clothes look like they’re three sizes too big and you frown.  

“Hey,” you drag the word out, trying to sound polite even if his outburst last night left you feeling incredibly unsettled. “Feeling any better?” You hesitate to meet his eyes, and when you do, your annoyance only deepens. 

He’s watching you expectantly, like he’s waiting for something. 

“Did you need anything?” You ask, voice trailing off as you close your locker and take two deliberate steps back. 

Blake’s brows furrow and he almost looks hurt before his expression smooths over into something startling unreadable. “Um, no, I’m sorry,” his gaze drifts past you. The color drains from his face and you barely have a second to process the oddity of this conversation before he turns on his heel and goes barrelling down the hall.

“Hey,” Clark’s familiar voice cuts through your confusion, and you turn to see him striding toward you. Gone is the easy, playful grin he wore last night. He looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, intent on something. “We need to talk,” he tells you, tone grave. 

“I know,” you snipe, not bothering to hide your irritation at just leaving you alone at the fair last night. You aren’t surprised, he’s been doing that for weeks now. What stings is that, for a little while, you had felt like you were actually friends again, only for him to ruin it. 

His brow furrows and he glances around the empty hallway with a frown. “Look, we can’t talk here, but-”

The warning bell rings, cutting him off. “Shit,” you mutter, shoving your books into your bag and turning away from Clark. He calls your name but you wave him off. “Later, Clark, I can’t be late again.” He watches you go with a frown, running a hand through his hair before turning toward his own class. 

Not even ten minutes later you spot him walking past Mrs. Brown’s room. Though, you swear he was wearing a red shirt not a green one. You could be wrong, it’s not as if you had long to take in his outfit.

You figure he’s just passing by and go back to taking your notes. There’s a light hiss from the door and you frown, looking up to see him hovering in the doorway and waving you forward. You glare toward Mrs. Brown’s back and shake your head. No way, you mouth. 

Clark gives you a pleading look, frowning and motioning you forward again. You know that look, you’ve been on the receiving end of it for years now. He’s clearly not going to let go of whatever  he was badgering you about this morning. 

“Can I go to the bathroom?” You call out, not bothering raising your hand. The old bat’s half-blind, you doubt she’d see it anyway. 

She answers without even bothering to turn around and face you. “If you need to use the restroom, you do so before my class,” her shaky voice calls out with a huff. 

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, stuffing your books in it as she turns back to the board. There’s no point in arguing with her, she’s never going to give in. You wait until she drops her eraser. The second she bends over to grab it, you’re bolting toward the door. Clark grabs your arm, dragging you behind him.

He makes a break for the end of the hall, blowing past the geometry class he’s meant to be in. He busts through the school doors and leads you quickly through the courtyard. “Clark,” you hiss, trying to hold back a laugh at the stupid grin on his face. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, eyes alight with mischief, “Come on, you can’t tell me you actually want to listen to her rambling on about Shakespeare for an hour.”

You can’t argue with that, but he hasn’t done a jail bust for you in a while. Especially not during one of the few classes he shares with Lana. “No, I didn’t,” you pause as you realize he’s leading you to your car and not his truck. “Am I driving?”

“Truck didn’t start this morning,” he tells you shortly, not bothering with any further explanation. You swear you saw him drive in this morning but you could be wrong. It’s not like he’s the only kid driving his dad’s old busted truck in this town. “I’ll drive, though, you won’t know where we’re going.”

“Ominous,” you snark as he takes your hand in his, directing you toward the passenger door. Gentle hands push you up against the side of the car and he ducks down, leaning into your space. You crane your neck up, flushing slightly at the proximity. Any closer and you could kiss him. 

“Well?” He questions softly, lips curling up in a half-smile that makes you want to melt. You blink, forgetting what you were doing before you notice his outstretched, open, palm. Swallowing thickly you take your keys out of your bag and place them in his hand. “Thanks,” he ducks down, soft lips pressed against your cheek before rounding the front of the car. 

Your hand drifts toward your cheek, a bewildered smile on your face as you try and regulate your breathing. “What the hell?” You mutter, shaking your head slightly. Turning around, you open the car door and slip into the passenger seat. 

Clark greets you with a grin, scooping your hand up in his as he pulls out of the school parking lot. You don’t want to think about the trouble you’re going to be in tomorrow, all you can focus on is how good Clark’s hand feels in yours. 

“I’m really starting to feel like I’m getting kidnapped,” you joke, head tilting to look out the window. The golden fields stretch endlessly, rolling past in waves as the car gets further from town. Houses become scarce, replaced by sprawling farmland and grazing cattle. The further you go, the more isolated you feel. 

Clark chuckles, but there’s something off about the sound, a slight wheeze, a strain where there wasn’t before. His face crumples and he turns away from you, his knuckles turn white around the steering wheel from his tight grip. 

“Are you okay?” You reach instinctively toward him but he jerks his hand back. You gasp, jumping back when you catch a glimpse of his face. It ripples, the skin shifting unnaturally, as if something beneath it is struggling to break free. 

“Oh no,” Clark groans, voice strained. His entire body spasms and his hands slip from the wheel. The car lurches violently to the side, tires screeching against the pavement. Panic surges through you, hands bracing against the door as you shout his name. 

He curls into himself, muscles seizing, leaving the car veering out of control. The telephone pole ahead rushes toward you, growing larger by the second. You throw yourself forward, grasping at the wheel, desperately trying to steer, but Clark’s foot slams against the gas instead of the brake. 

Everything happens too fast. A blur flashes in front of the windshield. Then, a sudden stop. Your body flies forward, arms bracing against the dashboard as your head whips forward and back, pain rattling through your spine. 

You whine in discomfort, slowly sitting up and trying to take in your surroundings. The passenger door is ripped open. You flinch, recoiling instinctively and sending a shock of pain down your body. Your breath stutters as someone ducks their head inside, a startling familiar pair of blue eyes find yours.  

“Clark?” You whisper, gaze flicking to the seat beside you where Clark still sits, doubled over, his breathing ragged. 

The Clark outside the car reaches in and gently pulls you out. Warm, calloused hands skate carefully over your arms and shoulders. He cups the back of your neck, tilting your head up, thumbs gently smoothing over your jaw as he looks you over. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice is soft, thick with concern. His eyes briefly leave yours to double check you for any injuries he might have missed. 

Your heart pounds. This isn’t possible. You must be concussed. You blink rapidly still struggling to wrap your head around the whole two Clark’s thing when the second one stumbles out of the car. 

He steps are uneven as he rounds the fender, his entire body shaking. Your rescuer moves swiftly, placing himself between you and the other Clark. He shields you, broad shoulders tense, protective to a fault. Must be the real one. Right? You rub your aching head and frown. 

“What were you going to do with her?” The one in front of you barks the question out, his voice sharp and edged with something dangerous.

“I just,” the other one keels over, cutting himself off with a pained groan and shaking his head. “Wanted to get away,” he grits out through clenched teeth, forcing himself straight again. 

“And you had to take her with you?”

“What’s going on?” You jut in, stepping back from both of them. Facing them, you see the same wounded expression reflected on both faces. Whichever is the fake, he’s certainly mastered the puppy dog look. 

Your rescuer tries to take a step forward but you throw your hand up, keeping them both at bay until you know what’s going on. He sighs and glances over at his shoulder at the other one.  “How long have you been able to do this?” 

It's like they start a conversation in the middle and you’re completely lost.  “Last year, I never saw a use for it and it was too much of a pain. But then I realized,” he looks at you, face contorting. “You would never go for a guy like me. You couldn’t. You were too wrapped up in him,” he spits the word out with venom, nodding toward the Clark you know has to be the real one. 

“You love him and that stupid all-American smile.” He chuckles, but it breaks off into a groan as he doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach. He drops to his knees and moans through clenched teeth, clutching at his face as he folds over. The longer black hair shrinks to a dull brown, broad shoulders slimming as the clothes he wears hang loose on him.

The illusion shatters, “Oh, God, Blake?” You gasp out, taking one step toward him. He shakes his head and you stop as Clark grabs your elbow. You glance up at him but he just shoots you a soft look that has you rooted to the spot. 

“I’ve been in love with you since freshman year,” Blake chuckles, still sounding like every word hurts. “If only I figured it out earlier, it’s always going to be him. I never had a chance, did I?” His gaze flickers toward Clark before he collapses to the pavement. 

You both go running toward Blake. Pressing your trembling fingers to his neck, you let out a sigh of relief when you feel his faint heartbeat. 

“We need to get him to a hospital, fast.” You lean back from Blake, looking around for Clark’s truck, confused when you don’t see it. “Dammit, Clark, where's the truck?”

He flushes, shaking his head, “I didn’t bring it.”

You frown, “What’re you talking about?” 

He glances toward Blake, the rise and fall of his chest steadily slowing. When he looks back at you his expression is unreadable, an intensity to it that you’ve never seen before. “I need you to trust me.”

“Always,” you tell him without missing a beat. He gives you a small smile but it lacks the usual warmth. 

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” You glare at him but he just shakes his head. 

“Please,” he looks close to begging and the pulse under your grip is getting weaker. Swallowing down your confusion you close your eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers, “I’ll be back.”

You frown, feeling a rough breeze blow back your hair as your eyes shoot open. But the spot in front of you is empty and the body under your hand has disappeared. Getting to your feet, you spin in one slow circle. There’s nothing out here except golden fields, your totaled car, and you. All alone. 

Clark eventually came back for you. His truck rolling into view after being on your own for half an hour. You hadn’t talked to him the whole ride back to town, too shocked by everything that had happened. 

He carried the conversation for the both of you, offering a brief explanation that only confused you more. Blake had apparently been one of the meteor freaks, somehow being exposed to it when it had left a crater in your town. 

But Clark didn’t tell you how he made it across the highway and to the hospital in under five minutes with no car. He didn’t tell you anything that actually mattered. So, you told him to drop you off at home and you haven’t seen him in a week. 

Chloe had called you once during your self-induced isolation, just to tell you that she’d driven by Blake’s house. Apparently the entire place looked like it had been cleaned out. No sign of him or his parents anywhere. You wish you could say you care, but you don’t. You’re almost grateful he’s gone. Not only did he reveal your long held secret infatuation to Clark, he’d clearly had ill intentions as he tried to take you out of town. 

Your Nokia nearly buzzes itself off your nightstand as you set your book to the side and look at the all-too familiar contact.

Clarkie

The stupid nickname you’d given him in middle school lights up the small screen and you let out a rough sigh, watching as it rings and rings before finally quieting. The screen goes dark before lighting up once more as his ringtone fills the silence of your room. He doesn’t give up easily, you have to give him that. 

You’re not entirely sure you’re ready to face him. Not now that he knows about your feelings for him. There’s no hiding what Blake so plainly laid out for him. You sink into the comforts of the pillows on your bed and wonder if you could just live here forever. 

Something knocks against your window and you ignore it as nothing more than a branch from the tree. It’s not much longer before it happens again and you rip your hands off your face and are forced to sit up. Your phone rings once more and there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that you know exactly who waits outside your window. 

“You can’t hide forever,” comes an annoying cheerful voice from outside. You force yourself off your bed and slink toward your window. Sure enough, Clark waits below it, a boyish grin poised on his face as he looks up at you. As much as you’re avoiding him, it’s plain cruel to just leave him outside. 

Reluctantly, you open your window and he’s quick to climb your tree. You back up as he slots his broad frame through and into your room. He lets out a short huff of breath and straightens up, giving you a sheepish smile. 

Taking a seat on your bed, you find it a tad difficult to look at him. Clark sucks in a deep breath and grabs your desk chair. He straddles it, resting on the back of it and staring at you until you feel like he’s going to burn holes into the side of your face. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

You hum and shrug, tucking a loose wave behind your ear. “I’ve been sick,” you lie, briefly looking up. The intense way he’s looking at you leaves you breathless and you have to take in a slow breath so your heart doesn’t kick up too much.  

“I want to tell you something.” Your head shoots up, concern lacing through you at the grave tone of his words. He looks away from you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, actually, I want to ask you something first. Is, uh,” he chuckles a little and licks his lips, a nervous tick he’s never been able to kick. “Is all that stuff that Blake said true?”

Your stomach drops, burying your face in your hands, you let out a low groan. “Oh, god,” you suck in a sharp breath, unable to look at him as heat flushes through you. 

Lying is always an option. It’s a poor option, but it’s there. Maybe, if you just lied straight through your teeth he would drop it and leave you alone. But you’ve been hiding this for so long, tucked so tightly to your chest, it would be a relief to finally be unburdened of the truth. 

“Yes,” you whisper. You don’t want to look at him, don’t want to face the truth of his rejection. Clark has been your best friend since you could walk, losing him over this stupid crush would destroy you. 

The silence drags on for too long and you feel the anxiety calling its way around you. Warmth envelops your hands and calloused palms draw them away from your face. 

You peek one eye open to find Clark kneeling before you, a soft smile on his face. “You better not be laughing at me, Kent.”

A small chuckle slips through his lips and you slap at his shoulder. He catches your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. “I’m not, I promise. I wish you’d told me.”

“Why? So I could ruin our friendship faster?” You snark. 

“No, so I could do this,” he darts forward, soft lips capturing yours. You freeze up, eyes wide as his hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer. 

There’s a brief moment of shock where you’re completely frozen. But then you feel the way his thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand. And you find yourself melting into the feeling of his embrace, eyes closing as you slowly open up to him. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying themselves in the soft waves of his hair. 

The kiss itself is gentle, chaste almost. But it warms you from the inside out, makes you feel like you’re going to be nothing but a puddle of goo the longer he holds you. When he pulls back, he drags it out, lips lingering as long as they can. 

You’re slow to recover, eyes glazed over as you stare at him. He seems just as shocked, like he hadn’t expected to do that. Of course, you say the first thing that comes to mind instead of just shutting up and enjoying the moment. “What about Lana?” You blurt out, wincing the second it leaves your mouth. 

He frowns at you and shrugs, “What about her?”

“You’ve been blowing me off for months for her. We go to her shop every day just so you can stare at her. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly discovered feelings for me. I won’t be your backup, Clark.”

He shakes his head vehemently, looking almost offended by the idea. “What? No. Of course you’re not,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at you before sinking back on his heels with a huff. “Look, I wasn’t ditching you for her, I can explain all that,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “later.”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and he reaches up, taking your hands in his. “There’s a lot I have to tell you. But the most important thing is that I am completely over Lana.”

“Really?” You question, tone harsh but bordering almost on teasing. “You look at all your friends like that?”

He shakes his head, “No,” he pauses, “just you,” he adds with a cheeky smirk. You roll your eyes and shake your head, looking away from him. “Whatever you thought you saw between us, it was only on her end. I swear, it’s been you for a long time.”  

You look away, but he’s not accepting that, tilting your chin to face him once more. “It’s always been you,” he murmurs, voice steady, certain.

Your breath hitches, heart stuttering in your chest. Maybe this is real. Maybe it’s been you that’s been the oblivious idiot. 

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze head-on. “Then prove it.”

His smile is slow, confident, and this time when he leans in you don’t hesitate to meet him halfway.

end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

I want to write for Clark Kent (Henry Cavill) and possibly Walter Marshall, August Walker and Sherlock Holmes too. If anyone has any ideas they want to share then feel free to do so. Need more inspiration.

Eyes on the ground

Reader/Son x Clark Kent & Lois Lane

Request - I wanted to ask if it was possible for you to write a AU of sorts. A crossover between Scarlet Witch and Superman & Lois. Where Clark and Lois have a third son and turns out that he's he's krypton's Scarlet Witch/Warlock. MC is younger than the twins.

Lois and Clark are in the kitchen talking alone. They see you playing catch with your brothers outside.

“Do you think any of them will get powers?” Lois asked.

“Maybe… I’m not sure. They don't show any signs and nothing strange has happened for now” Clark said.

“They are too young. I just want them to have a normal childhood” Lois said.

“I understand. Let's not worry about that for now” Clark said.

They see you are playing rough with your brothers. It was Jon's idea to play football in the backyard. You wanted to show off and prove that you are strong enough to play rough. Jon threw the ball at Jordan but you caught the ball, then you and Jon started to wrestle for the ball. Lois and Clark left the kitchen and went to stop you and your brothers playing rough.

“Boys enough” Clark yelled.

He grabbed the football then you and your brothers, then you started to breathe hard.

“We were playing,” Jordan said.

“We told you three many times not to play rough,” Lois said.

“It’s football. I'm strong they can't beat me” You said.

You start to flex your biceps and your brothers roll their eyes.

“Y/N, you can't play rough every time you play football,” Lois said.

“I’m not a baby,” You whined.

You hate it when they treat you like a baby, you want to prove to them that you're not a baby.

“Go inside the house all of you,” Clark said.

“Not fair. I was having fun” You said frustrated.

You kicked the football so hard that you broke the kitchen window. Jordan and Jon gasped and you didn't expect to break the window.

“In the house now!” Lois yelled.

“Sorry,” You said.

You and everyone else go inside the house. Your father made you clean up the mess while he watched over you. He starts to give you the speech and you really don't want to listen to the speech but you don't say anything.

In the family, you're the youngest, and your parents are more protective of you. You always try to prove that you are not a baby and don't need protection. Clark and Lois love their boys but you are a bit wild because you like to explore.

———-

Jordan and Jon want pizza for dinner. They asked their parents but they said no, then Jordan got an idea.

“Y/N, go ask mom and dad for pizza for dinner,” Jordan said.

“You and Jon already asked and they said no,” You said.

He puts his arm around your shoulders.

“They will say yes to you because you are the rainbow child,” Jordan said.

“Don’t call me that” You said.

“It’s true, Y/N. You know mom had miscarriages before she had you. Go ask for pizza” Jon said.

“Okay, but they will say no,” You said.

They follow you downstairs, but they are in the hallway listening. You are in the living room, while Lois and Clark are sitting down on the couch.

“Mom, dad can we have pizza for dinner?” You asked

“Okay, sure. I will order the pizza, Y/N do you want to come with me?” Clark said.

“Yeah,” You said.

Jordan and Jon are happy that they will eat pizza for dinner. You leave the house with your dad and get in the truck, he lets you pick the radio station. He listens to you talk about your favorite band.

After buying pizza and before going home, he stopped the truck.

“Why we stopped?” You asked.

“I’m going to show you how to drive” Clark smiled.

“That is cool!” You smiled big.

You and your dad switched seats. You are feeling so excited that your cheeks are hurting from smiling. He starts to tell you what to do and you follow his instructions. You are starting to drive the truck slowly

“You are doing great, Y/N,” Clark said.

“Wow, this is fun” You giggled.

You go a little fast and he tells you how to stop the car and go again. Then he made you change seats now he is driving home, and you tell him how fun it was to drive.

✬ ✫ ✯ ✫

Tal-Rho sent his army to attack the town. Everyone is starting to panic and trying to get out of town. Clark went to fight Tal-Rho somewhere. Your mom made you and your brothers get ready to head to the army base in town. You and your family head to the truck but Tal-Rho’s army arrives.

“Stay away from us,” Lois said.

“Mom,” You said.

You are feeling scared and they are feeling scared also.

“Stay away from us!” You yelled.

You run towards the person to punch them, but they push you hard towards the ground. You want to prove that you are strong but the person was going to attack Jon but Jon stepped in and got hurt, the enemy used heat vision to hurt your brother. Jon fell to the ground and he was bleeding fast you ran towards him.

“Jon!” You cried out.

You touch his stomach and you see the blood on your hand. Your heart is racing faster and you start to cry.

“Jon, I’m sorry! I-I didn't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry!” You cried out.

Lois and everyone noticed a magic aura surrounding your body.

“Mom, what is going on?” Jordan asked.

“What are you doing to him!?” Lois yelled at them.

“We are not doing that to him,” He said.

Your eyes changed colors then you yelled, then a powerful magic blast and you hit the enemies. They passed out and your magic from your hands went to your brother’s body and he is starting to get healed. Jon looks at you then the magic disappears. Lois helped you and Jon stand up then she hugged you and your brother.

“What just happened?” Jordan asked.

“We will figure that out later, now we have to go,” Lois said.

Your mom took you and your brothers to the army base in town. Your brothers are looking at you strangely and they start to ask questions, but you don't know how to answer them.

Clark arrived at the base with the suit on. You and your brothers don't know yet that your father is Superman. Everyone knows that you are a huge fan of Superman. You have some posters and action figures in your bedroom. You run towards him and you are smiling

“I’m a big fan” You smiled.

“Oh… um thanks for being a fan” Clark smiled.

“I can't believe I'm really meeting you” You happily said.

“Superman we need to talk,” Sam said.

He followed your grandfather to a private area and Lois is there. They start to talk about what is going on.

“What do you mean, Y/N has powers?” Clark asked.

“Not the same powers as you. It seemed powers like John Constantine, would have but his powers actually appeared all over his body. Jon was hurt but he saved him” Lois said.

“How did he even get magic?” Clark asked.

“I have no idea, I thought you would know. Go change, the boys need you right now” Lois said.

“It will be okay,” Clark said.

Clark hugged his wife and kissed her on the lips. Clark tells Sam, what Tal-Rho wants to do. They talked for a while then Clark changed clothes then went to see you and your brothers. You start to tell him what happened and Clark asks questions about the powers, but you don't know what to say. Then Clark went to talk with Jon and he hugged his son tightly.

——-

You are lying in your bed and your dad walked in. He sits on the edge of the bed and before he can say a word, you said something first.

“Are you and mom going to send me away?” You asked.

“What makes you think that we would send you away?” Clark asked.

You sit up and you struggle to say something at first, but he waits for you to say something.

“Because I have powers and it's my fault that Jon got hurt,” You said in a low voice.

“Y/N, we love you and we will never send you away. You are our son and we will never abandon you. And it's not your fault that Jon got hurt. He doesn't blame you, Y/N. This is new to us and we will get through this together” Clark smiled.

“Thanks, dad” You said.

Your dad hugged you tight and you believe what he said to you.

“Go to sleep, it's late,” Clark said.

“I’m not tired,” You said.

“Nice, try. Y/N, go to sleep it's written on your face that you are tired” Clark said

“Goodnight,” You said.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” Clark said.

You lie down and you watch your dad turn off the light and leave. You close your eyes and you start to fall asleep.

✬ ✫ ✯ ✫

Clark just told you and your brothers that he is Superman. He picked up a truck, Jon and Jordan were in shock but not you.

“Y/N, you don't seem impressed,” Lois said.

“I saw dad, use his powers before and I saw his suit in the closet. The glasses are not a good disguise” You said.

“How come you didn't say anything?” Jordan asked.

“You and Jon wouldn't believe me. One time, I saw dad use his ice breath to put out the fire in the barn. I don't want to wear my underwear on the outside, no offense dad” You said.

“Y/N, I’m not asking you to wear your underwear on the outside. So that means, I have magic and I have the same powers as you?” You said.

“So, cool I have the same powers like dad” Jon grinned.

“Do I have powers?” Jordan asked

“We don't know yet,” Lois said.

“Sorry, I’m late I had to deal with something in hell,” John Constantine said.

He appeared through a magic portal. Clark introduced John to you and your brothers. Then John lights his cigarette and he stares at you.

“Why is he here?” You asked.

“He has magic and he will people with it. We don't know anything about magic and we thought that he could help you” Clark said.

“He is old and smells bad,” You said.

“Y/N, don't say that. That is rude” Lois said.

Your brothers couldn't help to laugh.

“And you still wet the bed,” John said.

“Whatever, old man,” You said.

“You two be nice. And try not to go hard on my son” Clark said.

“I can't promise anything. Let's get started” John said

Your family watches John use his magic. You try to use your magic but nothing is coming out of your hands. But he laughed then he hit you with your magic and you fell to the ground.

“John! I told you not to be hard on my son!” Clark yelled.

John used his magic to stop your parents from interfering.

“I know what I'm doing!” John yelled.

“Don’t hurt them!” You yelled.

You are walking forward towards him. Then a powerful magic arua starts to come out of your hands. Then everyone witnessed a dark magic book appear in front of you. It turned to the page on what magic to use

“How did you make that book come to you?” John asked.

You read the magic words and used the magic to hurt John. But he was quick to block your magic with his magic. You tried again but he blocked it again. Then he stopped and he tried to get the book but the book moved closer to you.

“Boy, you do have any idea what book you have!?” John said very loud.

“No. It's my first time seeing it” You said.

“That book is called Darkhold and it's connected to you. Study that book from start to end. contained spells, formulas, and information on how to create machines to harness energy from other dimensions, Study the book” John said.

“Wow, that is a lot,” You said.

You hold the book and you won't let him read it. John explained what kind of magic you have to your parents. Lois isn't happy about you having chaos magic and she doesn't want you to have magic. But she won't stop loving you and Clark will feel the same way. Later, John teaches you how to summon your magic and how to control it.

———-

You haven't been studying the Darkhold magic book. You are playing catch with your brothers in the barn. You and Jon are trying to help Jordan activate his powers. Jordan tried to pick the tractor but he couldn't do it.

“I guess i don't have super strength,” Jordan said

“Try throwing the football far?” You said.

“I can try,” Jordan said.

Jon laughed because he knew that Jordan couldn't throw the football.

“I can throw a football,” Jordan said

“Yeah, right. But go ahead and you will miss” Jon laughed.

You throw the football at your brother but with force. He didn't catch the ball and the ball went through the wall.

“Mom and dad are going to ground you forever,” Jon said.

“Why you didn't catch the ball!?” You yelled.

“You didn't throw it straight!” Jordan yelled.

You tried to use your magic to fix the hole, but you opened a portal for a few seconds but it closed.

“What was that!?” Jon yelled

“I don't know, I’m still figuring out my powers,” You said.

Again you used your magic and you fixed the hole. You are smiling about it because you won't get in trouble. But you started to play with your brothers again, they kept throwing the ball at each other so you wouldn't catch it. But you used your magic to catch the ball and you are happy about it.

“That’s cheating,” Jon said.

“You are just slow” You teased

They started to chase you and you started to run fast. Lois and Clark are outside talking and you run toward them, but Jon uses his speed to catch up to you. He tried to get the ball but you won't let go, then Clark and Lois made him let go. He got in trouble but not you and they made you and your brothers go back inside the house.

The feeling of entering the tag and not having any new fic to read ... I NEED MORE

You were all too late. This was my last straw…

I’m doing it.

Stay tuned <3

I did it >/////<…

I really enjoyed reading your DC headcanons! Your characterization in particular is really really great! I'll be looking forward to reading more as you post them :)

Ahh thank you, you're too sweet!! I'm glad you've been enjoying them. Hopefully, I'll have some more out soon! <3

DC ✢ When he admitted he loved you

Characters: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Clark. This is a companion piece to another headcanon called 'When he realised he loved you' linked here. Though, you can still read it independently.

B R U C E⠀W A Y N E

Bruce did not say it in a quiet moment — for such moments were rare. Though, when they did find him, he spent them with you in silence. Not with words but simply by being near, by existing in your presence.

No. It came during an argument. One of those arguments that shakes the very foundations of a relationship — not because of what was said, but because of what had never been, what was expected.

You had asked him — raw, wounded — what you meant to him. What all this was. Why he kept forming barriers between you, when all you had ever wanted to do was break through.

His answer had been frigid. Precise. Calculated and sharpened. A blade forged from old habits, Bruce wielded it with an unconscious mastery, a last-ditch defence mechanism perfected over decades.

You left. Not in fury, but in heartbreak, disappointment — the kind that does not cry, does not scream, but simply broods into silence. Your absence rang louder than a slammed door, louder than any yell you could have mustered.

Alfred did not speak. Just passed Bruce in the hallway with the kind of look that had once made him sit straighter as a boy. And now, it made him feel small once more, as though he were still a child.

Time passed and still, silence.

He found you in the garden, beneath a sky now thick with stars, the sun had still been gleaming when you had hurried away. You had not been crying. You were still. And in that stillness, he saw the damage he had inflicted upon you.

‘I can’t seem to protect what I love,’ he said, words fractured, conflicted. ‘Not my parents. Not Jason… Not you —’ 

You turned. Not startled by the confession, but by the break in his voice. You had never seen him like this before, never so fragile. 

‘But I do. I love you. I want… I need you to know that.’

It was not cinematic. No kiss. No arms thrown around shoulders. Just him, standing before you, hollowed by an atypical honesty, praying you would believe him — even if he was undeserving of that trust.

And you did. You believed him. Bruce could see it in the ease of your countenance, in the smile that now warmed your face. But even so, he apologised as though he had committed a most heinous crime.

You pulled yourself to your feet, still wordless. And enveloped him in your arms.

‘I love you too, Bruce.’

D I C K⠀G R A Y S O N

Dick meant to say it casually — with that charming nonchalance that usually came so naturally to him. He had rehearsed it, even. Smiled in the mirror once or twice. But it never felt right, never felt adequate. It was too simple a word to describe what he felt for you. 

But love, he discovered, should not wait for perfect timing.

It came unexpectedly late one evening, while a movie played in the background — some low-budget film neither of you had been truly watching. Your head was on his shoulder. His thumb was tracing invisible shapes into your side.

And then — suddenly breathless, it had grown too large to contain, he could not hold it any longer,

‘You know I love you, right?’

You blinked like someone newly roused from a dream, and looked at him as though he had spoken in a foreign language. Dick was not confident he had not. 

When you remained quiet, he chuckled, uneasy. And brought his hand to the back of his neck, in a nervous, boyish manner. 

‘I mean — I have. For a while. I just didn’t want to ruin it by...’ He trailed off, not quite sure what he was saying. 

You remained quiet for a few moments more, contemplating. The juncture of silence stretched taut, he held his breath. And then you smiled. 

As soft as the moonlight now shining through the curtains, you whispered, ‘I love you, too.’

He kissed you gently, as though he were trying to make up for all the times he had not said it sooner. In that moment, he was not Dick Grayson, he was not Nightwing or the Boy Wonder — he was simply someone lucky enough to be loved by you.

To this day, he cannot for the life of him remember the movie that had been playing. All he could remember was that smile — the way it had already lit up your eyes by the time it reached your mouth and the enthralling, glowing warmth that had flooded his system.

J A S O N⠀T O D D

You were stitching him up again — hands steady, breath shallow, a routine so familiar it hurt. Nothing fatal. Nothing new. His form was half-draped in shadow, skin cold under your touch. You sat cross-legged before him. 

‘You’ve got to stop doing this,’ you murmured, not for the first time and certainly not the last. 

He did not answer. Because what would he tell you? Not the truth, you would not want to hear it. Every stitched-up wound felt like proof that you cared; he could not resist the temptation. He did not believe you could love a man like him, but when he felt your gentle fingers work over his skin, he let himself consider it; he let himself yearn. 

‘I’d die for you, you know?’ he muttered. Off-handed. As though it were the most obvious thing, as though it were as easy as breathing.

A frown turned your face. ‘That’s not comforting, Jason.’

And then — something unspooled. A thread that had been pulled too tight for too long. Jason sighed.

‘What I was trying to say… What I meant was… I love you —’ He looked into your eyes, gaze piercing, willing you to see the truth of it. 

The words had flooded out like a barrage breaking open. ‘That’s all I’m trying to say. I’d die for you because… I can’t picture a world without you in it. I wouldn’t want to.’ He shivered at this, at the concept of a sphere you did not grace, the very notion made him ill. 

You stilled. Hands held suspended above him, pausing their work.

He was not looking for a response — only a release; he had needed this off his chest. But you gave him one anyway.

‘I love you, too.’ You had uttered it so softly, had Jason not already been watching your lips, he may have missed it. His breath caught — not in fear, but in awe — as though his lungs had momentarily forgotten their most natural function.

Your words felt like electricity brimming beneath his skin — like every nerve had been awoken at once. A new fullness bloomed within his chest, as though the ribs could no longer host his heart; as if it had suddenly grown too large to contain.

He spoke up again, softer this time,  ‘I’ll try to live for you too. That part’s harder. But believe me when I say I want it. More than anything.’ He gave you one of his rare smiles, and your heart jolted.

You silently placed the first aid materials to the side and leaned in, placing your head against his shoulder. After a short while you shifted, leaving scattered kisses across his fading scars, lingering on each for a moment, he felt that same electricity once more. 

Your hands ghosted over him like he were something precious, as though the ruin of him was worth loving, and that was the message you were trying to convey, what you were trying to have him understand.

Jason did not sleep that night. Not out of pain or panic, but because he was afraid it had been a dream. That peace, for someone like him, was more fragile, more fleeting than any reverie; and he could not stand the idea of waking up.

T I M⠀D R A K E

You both had been working late, each focused on your own tasks, yet relishing in the silent company of one another; the peace of it. Tim sat at his desk, while you lay across his bed, legs swinging behind you with a pen in hand.

Tim had asked you to stay at the manor for the night, but you had gently refused, reminding him you had work in the morning. You got up and walked over, placing both hands on either shoulder. You then pressed a kiss to his temple and whispered in his ear.

‘I better head off now.’ He leaned his head back into you, and his eyes met yours, smiling.

And then — too casually, too instinctively — he said, ‘Okay, love you.’

The words had flowed out like a torrent. A sudden, unexpected failure in his system.

Then a silence dropped like a stone in deep water — sudden, heavy, and irreversible; absolute.

He froze. His eyes were wide, as though the phrase had been spoken by an imposter, by someone else within his skin. He had known this fact for a long time, it had only been a matter of time.

‘I didn’t — I mean — that wasn’t—well, it was, but —’ He stopped. His words crashed over each other, panicked and sputtered.

You tilted your head. Shock the dominant expression on your face.

‘You love me?’

He nodded, slowly, it would be silly to deny it; to lie. Shame crept into the corners of his expression. What if he had said it too soon? What if the word drew you away?  Then suddenly you smiled, as though you had been waiting for this exact failure, this exact slip-up.

‘Well… that’s good,’ your whisper was tender. ‘Because I love you too.’

And just like that, his spiralling mind halted. His thoughts — so often a storm of what-ifs and whys — were suddenly still.

And in that stillness, something shifted.

The tension in his shoulders eased and melted away. He let out a breath he had not realised he had been holding — shaky, but smiling. It was not his usual tight-lipped smirk, nor the polite upward curve he would give strangers — this one was real. Quiet, disbelieving and full.

You leaned downward and rested your forehead against his, your hand moving to cradle his cheek. Tim leaned into it like he had been starved of its softness. You spoke through a grin.

‘Maybe I should stick around. Was that your plan all along?’

D A M I A N⠀W A Y N E⠀(Aged up as Batman)

Damian did not like the word love. Not at first. The word felt paltry. Trite. A flippant syllable never built to hold the sheer weight of what he carried for you.

You had just bested him in sparring. You always did, but only because he allowed it — Damian would sooner impale himself on his training blade than admit it, but it was not as though you were unaware. You had thought it cute, an adjective you would never dare utter to his face. 

Damian had no shortage of self-pride. The fact he was willing to sacrifice it, simply to please you, always left you breathless. 

You extended your hand to guide him up, but he simply stared at it from his place on the mat, his gaze shifting upward. You were standing over him, a barely contained smirk donning your features. 

‘You do not understand what you mean to me,’ he said, voice low and filled with a thousand ulterior meanings, though they bled through, his tone turning earnest.

You did not speak. You simply waited.

‘This feeling,’ he tried again, ‘it disrupts everything. My training. My thoughts. My plans. Everything. It… it…’ He trailed off, not sure how to finish what he was saying, not confident that the words capable of conveying these feelings were extant across any vernacular, it seemed too implausible. 

You smiled, faintly. ‘You mean love?’

He flinched like you had cursed. But then — after a moment — he nodded.

‘Yes. That.’ It was not enough, but he figured he would concede. ‘I feel it. Unwillingly. But truthfully.’

You laughed, it was warm and bell-like. It struck something tender in him, something still learning to hope.

‘I love you too, Damian.’

How was it, that word he had held with such contempt, such scrutiny and scepticism, was suddenly so weighted, so gorgeous uttered from your lips? How was it so impactful now it was directed towards him? 

He looked away, not from shame, but from overwhelm. He had fought assassins, atrocious criminals, and the weight of his father’s legacy — but never had he felt something as all-consuming as being wanted, as overwhelming as the thought of your love.

C L A R K⠀K E N T

He had told you on a rooftop. Not because it was histrionic, but because it was distant — far above the world’s inescapable noise, yet still beneath its stars. 

You were talking about something entirely ordinary. Rent, perhaps. The cost of your water bill.

But he was not listening, not truly. He watched as your lips moved and thought only of how he yearned to kiss them, to wake up to them each and every morning. 

And then he looked at you. Really looked. And the words came like wind through the ether — soft, inevitable.

‘I love you.’ He had cut you off, but it needed to be said. He could not have lived another moment without these words held suspended between you. 

You smiled, easy. ‘I know.’

But he shook his head. Shifting closer. There was an ache in his voice, a gravity to it.

‘No. I love you. Not in the way people say when they’re hanging up the phone. Or when they leave for work in the morning. I love you like… like…’ He paused, eyebrows furrowed, ‘I’m not sure I can put it into words —’ He places his hands on either side of your cheeks. 

You stopped breathing.

‘You’ve given me something no one else has,’ he said, his voice near breaking. ‘Not because you wanted a hero. But because you saw me — as nothing more than a man. The farmboy. The one who still forgets to fold his laundry, after you’ve already asked him five times…’

You let out a sudden laugh, but it was not for his joke, your joy at his admission could not be contained; it surged out. You kissed him.

‘I love you, too.’ You murmured, Clark could hear the smile within your voice. Then he thought of the stars glimmering upon them, they shone bright, yet still somehow paled in your comparison. 

I was thinking of expanding upon the Jason Todd section and turning it into its own one-shot, would anyone be interested in that? Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

DC ✢ When he realised he loved you

Characters: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Clark.

B R U C E⠀W A Y N E

The moment had been a quiet revelation, in a silence so profound it frightened him. The kind of silence that followed the first crack of thunder, one moment loud and undeniable, the next building with tension, waiting for it to strike again. 

You were sitting in the library of the manor, an arcane book resting open upon your lap, the fire crackling softly behind you. He had just returned from patrol — broken, bloodied, and defeated.

You looked up, eyes wide, alarmed at his state and asked, ‘Bruce?’ You had spoken as if he were not the Batman, not an emblem of vengeance and grit, but a man, just a man, whose hurt mattered.

Something in him gave out. Not in an ostentatious, cinematic collapse, but in the subtle yielding of defences too long held taut. His mind, a fortress of rationale and boundaries, fell silent.

She sees me, for all I am, it whispered. And yet she stays.

He had not believed in unconditional love since the alleyway. But in that moment, with the stench of blood from his suit and the leaden weight of the city upon his back, he saw love for what it was — not a sanctuary, but a quiet understanding, and a choosing. And she had chosen him.

It terrified him. Because now he had yet another thing to lose, to protect, something that was not abstract. It had a name. A voice. A laugh. It sat in his home and softened his world.

He had never been the same since.

D I C K⠀G R A Y S O N

It crept up on him — not a wave, but rather a tide. Quiet and constant and utterly irreversible.

You had fallen asleep in his bed, still holding a game controller, your brow furrowed even in your unconsciousness. He watched you in the blue glow of the screen and thought, God, I’d die for her.

And then came the laugh — low, bitter, surprised. Because of course he would. He was always ready to die for someone.

But this felt different. This was not a compulsion, a sense of duty. It was not about legacy or guilt. It was about you. And the way your presence grounded the part of him that had always been just suspended above the world, half-grieving, half-trying.

He remembered kissing your forehead before leaving for patrol that night. Slow. Lingering. The kind of kiss that was not about want, but reverence.

That was when he knew.

Love was not a thrill. It was a weight. And he had never wanted anything to anchor him, to tether him to this sphere, more than you.

The realisation made him smile. And then it made him ache.

J A S O N⠀T O D D

Jason felt it like the first rays of sun upon his back after a piercing winter, it flooded his system, warm and compelling. It struck him all of a sudden — new, unfamiliar, and… unwelcome. He did not want it. He had not asked for it.

You were brushing your teeth, half-asleep, wearing one of his old shirts, humming a song under your breath as though nothing was wrong in the world, as though it were not in a state of disrepair just beyond the window. And while watching you, he could believe it for a moment too.

Jason stood in the doorway, paralysed. Because he had seen too much tragedy, too much carnage. He could hardly believe that a quiet instant of peace, like this, could even exist, let alone in his reality.

His first instinct was to run. Not literally — he could never leave you. But to emotionally retreat, to steel himself for the moment this fleeting softness was stolen from him.

But you looked at him. Just looked — toothpaste foam and all — with a kind of amused concern, and asked, ‘You okay?’

After everything he had been through. He was not sure he had ever been less okay.

He loved you. He loved you with a passion that made him feel unworthy, as if he had tainted something holy.

A voice in him protested — said it was weakness. Said this would end in catastrophe. But he ignored it, just this once. He stepped forward and kissed your temple.

‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Just tired.’ But he was not. This was a lie. His mind was reeling.

He did not sleep that night. He lay awake memorising your breathing.

T I M⠀D R A K E

It was a question you asked that did it. Something ordinary, like, ‘Did you eat today?’

Tim wanted to laugh because it was such a cliché, wasn’t it? But clichés exist because they are true. No one ever asked him that, not like you had, not like it genuinely mattered. 

Then you brought him a coffee, one of those orders so tailored it was essentially an identity. You did not need to ask what he wanted. You simply knew.

He blinked down at the cup, then at you, and suddenly the task he was completing meant nothing.

He felt the world tilt. Quietly. Like the axis of his orbit had shifted. And it had.

Love, to Tim, had always been a puzzle he did not have time to solve. A thing for normal people, with normal lives, for people who lacked the responsibility he had garnered.

But there it was — simple, unassuming and irreversible.

He did not tell you. Not for a long time.

But he began cataloguing what made you smile. The way your face changed after a laugh, crinkled and carefree. He noticed the way your eyes sparkled just a little brighter when you spoke of things that made you passionate, and how the corners of your lips turned up when you were lost in a quiet thought.

This love became his sustenance, it was the first time in years he feared forgetting something.

D A M I A N⠀W A Y N E (Aged up as Batman)

It had infuriated him. The sheer idiocy of it.

Love was chemical, juvenile, a distraction. Or so he had been taught. So he had believed.

And yet there he stood — across from you in the garden, where you were speaking to a stray dog as if it were royalty, and something in his chest pulled.

At first, he mistook it for contempt — annoyance at your softness in a moment where he was attempting to be serious. But then you looked up, grinned, and said, ‘I think she likes me.’

And the words caught in his throat. Not because he did not believe them, but because he liked you. Against every grain of his upbringing.

He wanted to scold you, retreat, build walls. But instead, he asked the cat’s name.

That was the beginning. The fracture.

He loved you. In an old, mythic sense. In the way poets spoke of their love — fierce, unyielding, as though it could bend the very fabric of time. 

And that it did, time slowed every time you entered his concentration.

He began to dream of futures — a concept once as foreign to him as mercy.

He has not told you. But he will. In his own time. For now, he will continue to relish in it, and continue in this alluring descent. 

C L A R K⠀K E N T

He did not realise. Not at first. Because what he felt for you was too immense, too intrinsic, to label with as small as a word as love.

It was not until you fell asleep in his arms, mumbling about a stressful day, completely unaware of the god you were held by, that it hit him.

You did not see him as Superman. You saw him as Clark Kent. You simply saw him. The man. His hope. His grief.

And he realised then — you are his tether.

He thought of Krypton. Of its loss. Of the gaping emptiness it had left as soon as he had learnt of it. And for the first time in years, he did not feel hollow. He felt… full. He realised, that the planet could never have been home to him like she was. 

You snored softly. He laughed. Then cried.

Love, he realised, was not loud. It was simply your hand over his heart. It was your laughter in the next room. It was your body next to his.

He had not fallen in love. He had found it, unexpected and irrevocable, and for all the power he had been bestowed, this force had left him helpless to resist.

And now he guards it with everything he is. Because you are not just his world.

You are his home.

If you're interested, I've since posted a follow-up called 'When he admitted he loved you' linked, here. Every comment and piece of advice is welcomed and appreciated <3

DC ✢ What scares them and how you help them cope

Characters: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian and Clark.

B R U C E W A Y N E

Bruce, for as long as he can remember, has always suffered in silence. A perpetual brooder.

People have come and gone in his life, but he has never been comfortable opening up to them.

And for the longest time, you were no exception.

Though, as time passed, and an intimate familiarity grew, you began noticing a shift in his behaviour. Where he normally would have isolated himself in the Batcave, overburdened himself with his work, he instead began seeking you out.

In those moments, he would gently approach you, and you would offer him comfort. That was when he finally opened up about his deepest fear, losing the people he loves, especially you.

He is terrified that, despite all his vigilance, one day he will be unable to protect those closest to him and the thought of losing anyone, of them being taken from him, is something he cannot bear to face.

He still does not show his vulnerability easily, but when you are there, he is not as afraid to let his guard down, even if only for a brief moment.

He will never admit it, but he is always so grateful for your presence. Whether it is a quiet moment holding your hand, your steady voice in his ear, or simply leaning against you, he finds comfort. He lets you sit with him, no words necessary, knowing you will stay with him.

D I C K G R A Y S O N

Dick has always been the life of the party, the one who could crack a joke to break any tension in the room, always for the benefit of others.

But as you spent more time with him, you began to notice how he would sometimes go quiet, how his smile fell a bit too easily when he thought no one was looking.

You would see the insecurity flicker across his face; like he was afraid he was not good enough. He was afraid that one day, he would let you down, it would push you to walk away from him and he would be alone.

On the rare occasions that Dick opened up about his fears, it was never in big, dramatic moments. It was during quiet, vulnerable times when you were curled up on the couch, or after a mission where he had felt everything had gone wrong.

He would admit to you, softly, that he worries he is not enough for the people he cares about. That maybe, despite all his effort, he could fail them.

When you reassure him, he would brush it off with a laugh, but deep down, it comforts him more than he lets on. And from that moment, he tries harder to show you just how much he values you.

J A S O N T O D D

Jason’s tough exterior had always seemed nearly impenetrable, to everyone who knew him and you had not been an exception to this rule.

When you first met him, Jason did not want to let you close. He pushed you away. Any attempt at trying to comfort him was futile.

Beneath this façade, there is a deep-rooted fear of being forgotten and unimportant, as though his death had been just another part of Gotham’s tragic history, another statistic.

Slowly, you began to perceive beyond his mask of resentment. During late-night conversations, when he allowed his frustration to ebb away, Jason would reveal just how much he fears that Gotham — or worse, his family — will not remember him as the person he is now, the person behind his carefully constructed veil, the boy he once was.

When Jason lets his walls down, it is never in public. It is solely within quiet, private moments with you, his eyes soft and vulnerable in a manner only you have ever known.

Over the years, you have learnt that showing patience and care, letting him know you are there even when he is at his lowest, is one of the most important ways to help him feel like he matters, to prove you see him for everything that he is, to prove you love the man beneath the veil. 

T I M D RA K E

Tim has always been the strategist, the planner; constantly running scenarios in his mind to ensure things go right.

However, with that constant need for control comes an intense fear of failure and not living up to the expectations he has placed on himself.

Early on, when you spent time with him, you noticed how tightly wound he always was; always thinking, and nearly always overthinking.

There were nights when he would finally collapse into bed, eyes wide with worry, unable to rest. You would feel this unease radiate from him throughout the night.

Tim never truly usually let his fear show, but one night, after a particularly difficult mission where he felt responsible for things that had gone wrong, he finally admitted how much pressure he felt to always be perfect.

You comforted him with a soft smile, telling him that it was okay to not have all the answers and that he, like everyone else, was allowed to make mistakes. You helped him realise the unrealistic expectations he had placed on himself. 

Since then, Tim still overthinks, he still plans, but, at the very least, he has learned, with you by his side, that it is okay to let go sometimes.

D A M I A N W A Y N E (Aged up as Batman)

Damian was fierce and proud, he never outwardly showed weakness if he could help it. His fear was simple, he was terrified that someone would see through this, that he would be perceived as feeble or unworthy of his name.

When you first met him, he wore his arrogance and pride like armour, it was designed to keep people at a distance.

However, as time progressed, you began to notice cracks in this façade; moments where he looked at his family and felt like he was not measuring up.

Damian never directly opened up, but you saw it in the way his shoulders tensed when his father praised others or when he failed at something that he believed should have been effortless.

One day, you found him alone, practising relentlessly in the training room. His frustration was palpable, and when he finally stopped, he turned to you, admitting woefully that he was afraid he would never be as good as his family and never live up to his father’s legacy.

You had been shocked, you had yearned for him to be open with you and had already resigned to the fact it likely would not happen. Despite this, you were quick to reassure him, reminding him that his worth was not measured by perfection, but by who he strived to be.

Over time, he began to trust you more, slowly letting you see the person beneath his well-constructed bravado. Though he would never admit it, your support meant the world to him.

C L A R K K E N T

Clark, the ever-hopeful, never-giving-up superhero, covertly harboured a deep fear of losing control — specifically, of accidentally hurting those he loves with his less-than-ordinary abilities.

His fear was embedded in the idea that his immense capabilities could go terribly astray, causing harm to someone he holds dear.

It is a quiet fear, one he does not often voice, as he does not want to burden you with it. But you can sense it in the way he is constantly holding back, constantly choosing to act in ways that minimise risk, even if it means sacrificing your mutual need for physical affection. 

One evening, after a particularly difficult escapade, where unbeknownst to you, his powers had nearly hurt an innocent bystander, you found him standing in front of the window, his hands clenched in silent frustration. He had been bitterly reminded of how dangerous he could be. If he lacked control for even the briefest of moments, you could be lost to him forever. 

You walked up behind him with the intention of loosening his hands with your own. At first, you made no impression on his unyielding frame, but eventually, he melted into your touch and let you intertwine your fingers. You gently asked him about it, and he admitted his fear, his voice softer than usual.

At this you embraced him, hoping you were not pushing any boundaries after this particular admission. You let him know that you trusted him entirely and that you believed he had an unwavering ability to protect, despite the weight of his fear.

From that night on, while Clark still remained cautious and vigilant, he knew that you were there to support him and, at the very least, you were not afraid of him. 

This is my first-ever attempt at a Headcanon, so any advice would be much appreciated <3

i want two boyfriends and i want my boyfriends to be boyfriends. okay, one is broody and serious while the other is comedic relief. They work together and they come home to their girlfriend without a moment's hesitation. No one suspects that they are sharing a girlfriend, but it surprises no one.

Men in question: Soap & Ghost, Jason & Roy, Bruce & Clark, Wade & Logan, Johnny & Kenshi, Gojo & Geto, etc

｡⋆𖦹.✧˚──

you and clark were sitting on the couch, the evening creeping in with its soft, quiet light. it had been a long day, but still, he was here, as he always seemed to be when the world slowed down. the two of you were talking, nothing too important. just the usual random banter that filled the space between moments. your cat had found her way into clark’s lap, curling up there like it was the most natural place in the world, and clark, the ever gentle soul, let her stay. it wasn’t until you noticed how still he was that you realized maybe the conversation had started to fade around him.

he blinked slowly, like he was fighting something, a yawn, maybe, or the weight of exhaustion that always seemed to find him when he wasn’t being superman. you caught the little tremble of his shoulders as he tried to keep his attention, but it was a losing battle. his voice dropped, becoming quieter, slower. you raised an eyebrow. “clark, you good?”

he mumbled something that didn’t quite form into words, a quiet hum of agreement or maybe just an attempt to stay awake. but his eyes were slipping closed now, and you could see it in the way his shoulders sagged, the way his grip on your cat loosened just enough to make the little furball shift, curling tighter against his chest.

you didn’t say anything else, just watched as his head slowly tilted to the side, his glasses slightly askew, and his breathing evening out in the softest rhythm. it wasn’t long before the words in his mouth stopped altogether, his body sinking deeper into the couch, his hand gently cradling your cat like she was a newborn. it was ridiculous and sweet all at once, and you couldn’t help the smile that pulled at your lips.

you stood up quietly, careful not to make any noise that might disturb him. the blanket on the back of the couch was soft, a faded blue color that had seen better days. you grabbed it, draping it over him gently, smoothing it down around his shoulders, making sure he was comfortable. your cat barely stirred in his arms, happy enough to let clark hold her like this.

it was funny, you thought, how different he was when he wasn’t in a cape or suit, when he wasn’t saving people or rushing off to the next disaster. here, in your living room, he was just clark. tired, quiet, messy haired clark who didn’t have to be perfect all the time.

you pulled the blanket up a little higher, tucking it around him with one last touch, just to make sure he stayed warm through the night. the soft rise and fall of his chest beneath the blanket was steady, peaceful. the only sounds in the room were the occasional soft snore from clark and the gentle purring of your cat.

you sat back down on the couch, curling up next to them both, your gaze drifting from clark’s peaceful face to the way the blanket gently shifted with each breath he took.

Now I have come to the realization that not many people other than females have x reader stories written for them. It makes me upset that people who are GN or M!r don't have many stories for them. I myself don't really go by one gender, but I was born female seeing as I go by she/they. I beg of writers to start writing for a bigger audience. Now I will also like to point out that we should also start writing for those with disabilities, I for one am all for doing research to write for anyone with something like autism or down syndrome. Now on to a another big issue DO NOT romanticize suicide or anything like that, I can understand writing something special like how they helped you through your suicidal thoughts. I have come to realize that as someone with bipolar disorder I don't want my suicide to be romanticized. Now I myself will hold myself accountable for liking those stories but I was young and a angst full teen, I have read some terrible things before and I do regret it. I also regret giving people more audience to write things like forced love. Going into the Steve Rogers x reader tags I have realized that fetishizing forceful intercourse is something many people do in the x reader tags. Please think about the person who put life into the character you are turning into a monster, these actors didn't ask to be in a story where they force you to do the unthinkable.

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | ᴊ. ʟᴇᴀɢᴜᴇ

female reader....yeah

disclaimer: just a bunch of horny superheroes missing their cookie from y/n

warnings: 18+ content, dark/yandere themes, implied stockholm syndrome, slight voyeurism, dubcon, cuss words guyz & masturbation. (obviously.)

ʙ. ᴡᴀɴʏᴇ

One thing certain: masturbation isn't new to Bruce. It is more as a coping mechanism or stress reliever. He is the man. When he met you (saw you wandering Gotham streets and stalked you home) you put that whole masturbating process on hold. He doesn't have to pleasure himself anymore. 

You were a bit more inexperienced than he is. Don’t take thing old man for granted, he knows how to please and certainly never disappoints in bed. He’s PACKING.. 

However, when you weren’t around to help Bruce, He would take care of it the old fashion way:

Bruce would get annoyed that you weren't around. You were behaving good for once and he allowed to let you go out to catch up with your friends.

Of course it’s the one time you were out when he needed you the most, doesn’t bother him though. 

He would sit as his desk while his cock was throbbing at the slutty photos he took of you during very fun times. God, if he could relive that night he would've. The only time you ever let him thought you willingly. (He drugged your drink that night.)

He grunted in discomfort before shrugging off his sweatpants. “God.” He cursed with hissed teeth, he tried to focus on the screen in front of him that was watching the credit card he gave you as he grabbed his aching cock and stroked through it slightly.

He let out a small grunt while stroking though his girth roughly. He just needed release.

He stares at the photo of you; he put it as a sign to increase his pace. He leaned his head back as his mouth was agape from moaning while bucking his hips.

It was great that Alfred went with you, Bruce didn’t want you to escape without his supervision, so he had the whole place to himself.

He stared at your photo on his phone then writhed utterly, wishing it was you on top of him. “Fuck...” He panted with small curses burning in the back of his throat. “Y/N...” He whimpered. He repeatedly said your name. He felt sweat coat from his forehead and from his black tee.

He let out more huffs while he eyed the ceiling as he sensed his release approaching. “Shittt...” He whimpered again as a growl escaped from his throat.

He is pissed now. What was taking you so long?! He knows this won't solve his “problem” but it will at least ease the pain.  

He sees stars as he reaches his climax. He slams his head back in the chair as his hips bucked upwards as his release shot out freely. “Y/N!” He grunted as he finished. 

He panted heavily like a dehydrated dog. He needed you home before he goes insane.

When you returned, he literally jumped out of his chair just to push you on one the couches. You dropped the groceries in startlement. Alfred was god knows where but he wasn’t here so that’s good. “Bruce?” You asked as the belt you were wearing made a clank sound as it hit the ground. “I need you, now.” He said while stripping you out of your jeans. 

Your legs were now bare. He licked lips his dry lips before throwing your shirt over your head. Bruce flipped you on top while leaning back on the couches comfy surface. "Ride." He commanded with that ‘batman’ aura surrounding him. You nodded almost submissively before grinding your sloppy entrance on his cock. 

He let out an aggressively huff at your teasing. It didn’t take long for him to get irritated and soon penetrating his erected girth inside of you. You let out an breathless gasp while biting your lip, almost drawing blood.

He took this opportunity to put his tongue into your mouth. You founded yourself bouncing on his cock with shaking legs that writhed every time his size touched that one spot.

You kept riding him until you felt your limit approach. Your mouths separated when you gritted your teeth before Bruce slammed your hips to steady as his semen filled your walls.

You lazily fell down on his chest as his cock never left from inside you. “F.....Fuck you.” You stated annoyingly yet breathlessly from his eagerness. “Love you too.” He replied with a passionate kiss before pulling you into a more comfortable embrace.

Bruce seems to be cocky but, on the inside: nothing will ruin this.

ᴄ. ᴋᴇɴᴛ

Clark didn't have any other options! He seems to almost be ashamed of his sex drive cause of Lois. He has a very high libido. He never really masturbated because he did have Lois at the time. Then you hopped in and changed everything. 

He was so confused though, you weren’t around. You explained to him that you were out for brunch with your friends. He got upset, he will never admit but he has terrible separation anxiety. He went everywhere with you. (HE’S PACKINGGGGG)

Clark didn’t think he got so low to pleasure himself by himself. You were experienced enough to take care of both of your sexual needs which was one of things he loved about you:

Clark gets lonely when you weren’t around. Your apartment never been so quieter. To the point where he could even hear his own breathing.

He sat on the couch as his legs shifted uncontrollably. He had just saved a women and her child from a fire and he was already getting stressed out. You knew how excited he got after a mission.

You would always relive it. You were always there. You would cook, clean and be a good little bitch towards Clark which he enjoyed.

 (AND HONESLTY WHO WOULDN’T?)

He finds it harder to control himself as his cock throbs in between his sweats. He had taken off his superman suit and just wore baggy gray sweatpants with a blue tee.  

(YALL KNOW WHAT GRAY SWEATS MEAN??!!)

He attempted to close his legs, but his girth had been hardening and erected. He felt pre slip out of it’s slit. He let out a grunt as his cheeks redden from the heat within his body. 

When did it get so hot in here that he had to kick his legs to cool down? 

He doesn’t remember turning up the air-conditioner.

Finding the displeasure within his sweats. He lowered the pelvis region of his pants slightly for his cock to sprang within his human boxers. He let out a sweaty huff of breathless pleasure as he slowly lowered his boxers.

His cock in glory had been swollen from the lack of stimulation.

He rose his hand: lightly approaching his girth before returning it to his side. 

The hell was he doing? 

Surely you would make it back home to secure his needs. He reassured himself only to look at the pre slipping out of his slit.  

But you were far though. Surely a little bit fun couldn’t hurt. He rose his hand before rubbing his tip. He let out a pleasurable grunt. 

He was enjoying this?

He wrapped his fingers around his cock and began stroking. He let out a gasp from his contact as he leaned his head back within the pillow that was taking care of his aching back muscles. 

His eyes attempted to focus on the roof but it had been a blur with your face. “Y/N.” He whimpered as his hand movements increased. 

He pictured that it was you stroking him, your soft hands against his calloused body, oh how heavenly the feeling was. Your tits bouncing as your hips met his, the way you would grip his biceps to restrain your orgasm to meet his was always mesmerizing.

He kept stroking through his veiny girth as it twitched with pleasure from the bliss. He let out a small yet low moan. “Ughhhh....Y/N.” He repeated shamelessly. His mouth was agape with drool. His legs shifted uncontrollably. He grunted as he felt his limit approached. 

He used his speed to quicken up his pace and he let out small mewls from the action.  

He bucked his hips as he felt himself get close. ''Fuck..Y/N!'' He shouted as he reached his limit. A rope of semen released from his slit as he lifted his hips off the couch. His toes were curled as he landed his body on the couch with a grunt.

He used his clean hand to clutch his sweaty forehead as he eyed the roof: thinking of you. Look at that, the mere thought of you, your smile made his erected cock twitched for more. Very insaitable.

He let out a small whimper before wrapping his muscled palm onto his cock and stroke with pride. He no longer cared, you did brought this upon him. He continued to stroke himself while playing with his balls shamelessly. He needed this. It’s been a while since you two...

He deserved this. He was the world's greatest hero, no offense to the league of course, but he needed some relief in a while. “Y/N....” He begged as he heard you giggle. “Yes, Clark?” You asked as your arms were folded against your chest.

What do you know? He loves you so much he can daydream your entire body in a heartbeat. “Fuck me.” He said shamelessly as his head rested on the couch. Another giggle left your beautiful lips that wished was wrapped around his cock before straddling his lap. 

He thought he was fantasizing but he didn't think you were actually there.

His eyes went wide at your face was filled with a smile. “Y/N! I didn’t hear you come in..” He said, almost embarrassed that you caught him in this state. 

You brought a finger to his lips. “Let me help you, Clark.” You said seductively. He nodded eagerly at your vulgar words. You stripped out of your clothes. You were bare on his lap as he was fully clothed. 

You both had an intense make out session when he swiftly ripped his shirt. You playfully grinded your ass against his aching bare cock. He rolled his eyes in pleasure from you teasing. 

He grunted as you slowly lapped his cock with your soft hands. He was giving long yet low moans. “Y/N...” He whimpered that caused butterflies to form within your stomach. 

You smirk in response. “Please...touch me.” He stated submissively. You let out a snicker before sitting up on his bulky lap. You slowly lowered your throbbing pussy onto his cock.

He reacted with his head leaned back deeply into the couch as his toes curled slightly. You bit back a moan as you attempted to take all of his size once. You grunted while riding his cock. His hands found themselves onto your hips as he called your name repeatedly with bliss.  

Wasn’t this a sight, Clark Kent: the strongest hero, pussymatized by you. You continued to ride on his cock. You clenched your walls deeply against his cock. “Shit...Y/N. I’m gonna..” he exclaimed with clutched eyes. You brought your forehead down to his. “It’s okay, Clark.” You reassured with a small smile.

You both always used protection or the pulling out method. The thought of children never came to mind. But now, you both were ready. He gritted his teeth before deepening his pace to your cervix. 

He then spurted his semen within you. He had been into your neck, sucking your warm skin to contain his moans while you were rubbing his locks for support.

You felt your stomach gone warm. You both had been incredibly hot and sweat decorated your bodies. You looked at him with tear filled orbs. You were happy for once with him. He smiled before pulling you to a loving kiss. You then got up off him, not worrying about his semen leaking out of you. 

He felt a wave of pride swoon him over at the sight of his semen leaking out of your drenched entrance. “Round two in the bath!” You yelled before running to the shower. Clark ran after you with a chuckle at your childish antics.

You both shared a passionate night. A very very passionate night

ᴅ. ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ

Somebody get her a sex-ed class maybe a book cause Diana was mostly confused. Poor lady: she didn’t know how sexual customs went and that was what you were for. To educate her about intimacy.

You happened to be there for Diana whenever she had a lot of stress. Some called you sex friends but Diana shamelessly admitted that you had been together. You moved in with her after a one night stands. She's a lady, woman to be in professional; she didn't think females could masturbate or pleasure themselves. (SHE GOT BODY LIKE CRAZYY)

Everyone would laugh at the pure girl but she wasn’t pure at all. She was dominant to the soul. Maybe she comes off as pure because of her confusion but that’s definitely an act. You both messed around with each other a lot. 

What made her upset is how you were going to go visit an old companion and wouldn’t be back for some time. She gets annoyed but she understands. She felts her core swell up at every thought she had about you. She would try everything to get her mind off her urges. But they were too strong. Stronger than the god's spirts:

Diana is a hurricane of emotions without your presence. She could be very snappy or very professional depending on her mood.

She didn’t know why she was aching so much. She’s been around for a while which means she understood the life of a woman body but never had such a problem before. She shifted in her skirt under her desk as she attempted to focus on the screen in front of her.  

An email that Bruce sent her. She felt sparks under her body radiating from her clothed clit that had been dripping from the thought of your bitable skin. The way your eyes rolled to the back of your head when she taste your insides. 

Gods, she was horny now. She needed to taste you, feel you, make you and herself feel good.

She tried playing it off, crossing her leg over the other as her core throbbed within her panties that you actually bought her. She earned glances at her co-workers. ‘Now do you see what you do to me, Y/N.’ Diana shamelessly thought as she clenched her right leg into her left.

She felt her juices within her drenched undergarments slip down her leg. She let out a small gasp: causing her workers to stare. She jolted with the substance leaking down her leg. Scrubbing her legs together, she excused herself to the bathroom.

She leaned on the wall as her bun was slightly messy from its comfort. She locked the door before rolling down her skirt. She looked at her sore pussy. Aching without your touch. She felt herself go rogue. She pulled down her panties and rubbed her nub.

Small portions of liquids leak out of her. She put her finger within her entrance. Something you always did. She leaned her back with a muffled moan with her right hand. 

She thrusted her coated fingers in and out of her entrance as her moans kept increasing slightly behind her muffled hand. “Y/N.” She whispered within clutched eyes as she added another finger.

She rolled her eyes to the back of her head as her right-hand fingers trailed to her tucked in shirt. She unbuttoned it then played with her breast. She let out a moan from the pleasure she received. She had been fondling her breast and playing with her clit at the same time.  

The coldness of the tile wall had been easing her body temperature. “Y/N, Y/N.” She repeated while bucking her hips and increased her fingers movements before reaching her climax. 

She let out a loud moan as she felt tears brim from the orgasm. A rough one. “Ugnnhhh..” She groaned pleasurably.

She released her fingers from her tight walls before staring at them painted with a clear substance.

So, this was the feminine way of self-pleasure. She approached the sink as she shivered while lifting up her drenched panties and then skirt. 

She turned on the water on hot before eyeing herself in the mirror. She looked like a mess. You did this to her, and you were going to pay the price. She walked out the bathroom: partially sexually relieved and then instantly noticed her co-workers glances.  

She shallowed in embarrassment. Had she been that loud? She found herself at her seat. Wasting no time, she packed her laptop, phone, purse and keys. She needed to get home. You just texted her that you were at the penthouse. She shuffled her belongings in her bag. She flew out of the fire escape of the office and into the air.

It didn't take her long to reach the open window of your shared bedroom. She needed to taste you, gods. Now. You were on the couch in a gray baggy tee that reached your knees, knowing you probably not wearing anything underneath as you watched a show.

Using her Amazonian speed, she ran over to you while pushing her purse on the marble counter. “Diana! I didn’t even hear you come in.” You yelped at her sudden entry while pushing the potato chip crumbs off of your lap.

She panted lightly. Finding herself again now she was eye-to-eye with you. “Y/N...” She said breathlessly. “That’s me! Is ‘sumthing wrong?” You asked with concern. '

She nodded eagerly at your sentence. “Yes. You’re what’s wrong with me.” She replied while approaching you. “Well damn, Diana. I miss you too?” You stated while staring into her lust-filled orbs. You found yourself on the floor as she hovered. “Who hurt you today?!” You laughed then yelled while attempting to push her off.

She laid herself back while ripping up your long gray shirt to see your dripping entrance. She felt waves of ecstatic filled over her body before slamming your entrance onto her mouth. You yelped pleasurably at the sudden intrusion before instinctively resting a hand on her head.

Diana began sucking on your folds that were filled with your slick. She closed her eyes while her tongue had been in heaven. The scent of your arousal had been clogging her nose. You were moaning like crazy which you always did. 

You clenched her locks while your eyes were also clutched shut as your head rolled over. Diana always wanted to taste you. Feel you. “Fuckkkkk...D-Diana, relax please.'' You muttered as you felt your orgasm approach. She let out a hum before diving her tongue deeper into your fleshy liquid-filled walls. Your thighs shook in overstimulation before squirting your release onto her tongue. 

She happily slurped everything she could spare. She soon positioned away from her face and laid you back on the carpet. She darkly grinned before walking into your shared bedroom: leaving you alone in the living room.

You were breathing heavily from such a harsh orgasm. You attempted to stand but soon you found yourself bare from Diana’s speed as she ripped off the large tee. “What the hell?!” You yelled furiously before looking over that the female brunette. Your eyes widen at she had been holding. 

She smiled as she held up a strap on. “This was custom-made by Bruce. Now, I can truly feel you..” She said with a snicker at your scared expression. “Let’s go, My dear. You’ll definitely enjoy it.” She smiled before dragging you over her shoulder and ran into the bedroom with a giggle.

In the end, Diana had made you pay the price for her embarrassment.

Literally.

ᴀ. ᴄᴜʀʀʏ

Arthur is pretty kinky himself. He was a bit more experienced than you were: his mind is far more corrupted. Masturbation ain’t really new to him. All it took was a beer and Fifty Shades of Grey. (THIS MAN IS DEFINTELY PACKING LIKE WTFF)

Like Bruce, he had taken the easy way out before, he can do it again or anytime he had too. He would’ve been a touch starved, sex addict pumping steed if you hadn’t crossed paths, but when you texted that you were out with your family, he was a bit pissed. 

He sent you to get groceries for the first time and when you went to the mall to try on something sexy for him, you happened to run into your parent(s). Of course, he would understand. Family is over all, but so was he. Right? 

He would tell you to send a mirror photo. He loved admiring your body. You did with a peace sign. He will be sending dirty messages. ‘you look 2 damn sexyyy 2 be wit ur folk(s).’ Or ‘facetime rn.’ 

He would be far from control. He needed you:

Arthur is fucking pissed off when you left fucking all blueballed. He gets so damn annoyed with you cause you both been teasing all fucking around all fucking day and, of course, when he is done with work: your folk(s) pop up and ruin the mood.

Why does bad thing happen to good people? He wouldn’t even walk properly when he walked into the shared town house. His hair dripped as he just left the ocean from saving some fishermen. He grunted in frustration as he kicked the door down, stomping like a toddler before laying back into the brown couch in the small living room.  

(HE’S PETTY)

His eyes wandered to his phone at the photo you sent. You were smiling that contagious smile that couldn’t help him but to smile himself. Your smile belonged to him and him only. 

He continued smiling as his hair dried from the towel until it decreased. A male behind you held up a thumbs up with a smirk. He furrowed his eyes at the picture.

Who the hell was there?!

The thought of someone else fucking you other than him made him see red. He glanced back at your smile: the smile that belonged to him and him alone.

Your hair was disheveled slightly as your cut ‘lil dimples showed as you smiled. He winced at the thought of you cheating. Nah: you were smarter than that. 

You had to be.  

He felt his cock erect at the sight of your smile. He let out a hum and a raised brow as his jeans tighten. He shrugged off his belt and showed his pelvis part of his pants. He saw his cock deepen the comfort of his boxers. 

He let out a chuckle before shrugging off his boxers shamelessly. You drive him crazy. He wasn’t new to self-pleasure but it had been some time since he masturbated. 

Like he had you to take off his stress on.

He saw his cock already become erected. He winced from the cool air. “Damn it, Y/N.” He muttered aggressively. How dare you go out and leave him pussymatized. He felt himself go numb while stroking through his veiny cock. 

He grunted from the friction while roughly stroking through his girth. He panted slightly before letting out a groan. He was thinking of you. Smirking at every pleasurable memory you both shared. Your erotic expressions, your fleshy walls, damn, he found himself leaking pre sperm from the thought of you.  

He let out a small grunt while leaning his head back a bit. He continually stroked his cock with small groans of pleasures. “Y/N.” He muttered as his hair was becoming disorganized from the couch's comfort. 

He needs you! Now!  

He found himself approaching his climax. Bucking his hips, he roughly thrusted his hands onto his cock with small groans. 

He increased his pace while eyeing the ceiling through half-lidded eyes. “Shittt....” He cursed through hissed teeth. 

You were the only thought on his mind. He shifted uncomfortably as his release had been close. “Y/N!” He shouted out his semen leaped out of his slit with his bucked hips.  

He finished his spurting with a grunt. He then leaned back on the couch. Sweat coated his forehead as he stared at the ceiling. He was thinking of a waysss to punish you. He heard the door open: already knowing it was you, he remained in his place on the couch.

Overstimulated with his self-pleasure, he couldn’t think correctly. “Hey Broo! My folk(s) made--”you said while approaching the living room to see his state.

You yelped out as you dropped your foiled plate that you parents gave you onto the ground. “If you don’t get over and let me fuck you. Imma go over there and do something you won’t like it.” He said as he stared at you while his long bangs were covering his still half-lidded eyes.

You found yourself get turned on with his voice alone. “Someone’s been busy.” You said while placing your bags onto the table and approached him. “You have...noooooo idea.” Arthur stated as his chest rose and then fell with his heavy breaths. You smiled before sitting on his lap. You shifted his cock between your thighs. You were sitting sideways on his lap.

Arthur loved thigh jobs. He missed the first time you both had sex and that led to a new kink. Small, big, thick or chubs. He loves thighs. You moved your thighs up and down his shaft. He let out pleasurable groans.

You smirked a bit then continuing to guide yourself around his shaft. He leaned his head back with a groan escaping his lips as a growl rumbled deeply from his chest. You grinned before stopping, leaving his cock grinding against your clothed folds.

He gritted his teeth from your sudden action.  “You got a death wish or ‘sumthing?” He asked threateningly. You giggle at his statement before mounting his legs.

You shuffled around his bulky thighs. You were gently dancing your fingers on his shoulders as you grinded yourself near his cock. He grunted when he removed the fabric blocking him from you and bucked his hips upwards for his cock to deeply enter you. 

You moan in defeat while dropping down onto him while you still laid sideways on his lap. His arms trapped you within his grip as his hands made their way to your back for support, preventing you from falling off. 

You both let out small pleasurable moans before attacking each other’s lips. You both gnawed each other attempting to dominant. You felt yourself go numb as his pace quickened. You grunted as you pushed your mouth off of his. A trail of shared salvia was formed upon your bottom lip. You looked at him who stared back with a breathless groan.

His thrusts increased into your cervix. You grunted as your eyes had almost worn out. Your body jerked with each contact and slap his skin made against yours. He felt himself approach his limit. 

He furrowed his brow as one of his hands cupped your ass and the other gripped your hair to meet his bulky lips, you muffled moans into his mouth as his tongue slipped into your mouth.  

You felt yourself go overstimulated. Your eyes were clutched shut along with his. His eyebrows furrowed as he continued to dominate your carven

How in the world did he have so much energy?!

The sound of slapping increased as he began hitting your cervix harder than before. When you both felt your orgasm approach. You both parted before moaning and groaning in bliss.

You heard muffled spurting sounds as his sperm began to fill your womb. You writhed slightly from the sensation then got annoyed with his intimacy. He lifted you off his cock before placing on his thigh. 

You slapped his chest playfully as an erupting laugh comes from him. “Give me a heads up when you do crap like that.” You scolded as he shrugged playfully.

Heavy breathing and low pants came from both of you as you went into into his neck in hide the embarrassment. “Sooooo, round two?” He asked with a smirk. 

You whined in annoyance. “Giv...Give me a second, your highness'' You said as you attempted to regain strength. “Mmmmm, no.” He answered with no care. He gave your ass a smack before his cock became erected again. You let out a jolt from the stinging. 

He lifted you back onto his cock, you let out a blissful moan as you stared at him with tearful eyes. “Love ya, girly..” He said with a smile before breathlessly groaning in bliss soon after.

Goodness gracious!

With you by his side, he can take on anything but Superman..

ʙ. ᴀʟʟᴇɴ

Barry never really had a girlfriend. He was a virgin to the bone. You came in and changed that. The first time you two had done activities, you were in charge. Barry was far inexperienced to dominate you. 

You figured that out in a heartbeat. So, masturbation was slightly new to Barry. Like Clark; he had no other options. You were always there, sitting on his second favorite chair with a robe however, when you explained you happened to go to a job interview. He was happy for you! (HES PACKING BUT HE DOESNT KNOW HOW TO USE IT SOMEONE HELP HIM DFJIKDJHJFIKJ)

He knew you couldn't escape him. He was the flash after-all. You stated how you wanted to help him, not only by sex and meals. He got annoyed to be separated from you. You two were always together. Now, you weren't there when he needed you most:

Barry was lonely like Clark whenever you weren’t around. He didn't have anyone. Just his father in jail. He didn’t want for you to leave his side. But it was far from teasing when you send him a photo with your hair in a sleeked bun as you wore glasses that weren't even necessary.  

Your cleavage had been showing the valley of your breast as you held up a thumbs up with a breath-taking smile. He felt himself ignite by that photo. He was jealous: wasn’t it a crime to be that damn sexy? Cause you would be in jail with his father! He smiled before feeling his lower region react to you. He looked down under his blankets to see his boner was noticeable within his jeans.

He shuffled in his seat uncomfortably. He let out groans of discomfort as his cock throbbed. He wanted to get over the discomfort. He grunted and bucked his hips into the air uncomfortably. He had always been a bad sleeper.  

He kicked his legs before noticing his jeans being incurable tight. He rose a brow curiously at the sudden change. Removing the button that held his waistband together and pulling his fly down, his cock leaped out from his boxers. 

He let out a yelp in startlement cause he gets scared easily.

He shifted uncomfortably due to the tightness of his pants. Soon, he rolled his jeans down and soon boxers.

His cock had been twitching as small veins had been formed. He hesitantly let his hand out and wrapped it around his base. He arched his back with a moan while he had been feeling pure bliss.

He stroked himself roughly. Using his flash abilities: stroking through his cock incredibly fast. His hand shifted quickly throughout his cock. He grunted and let out submissive moans. His only thought was you teasing him like you always did. 

He thought of your fingers dancing across his abs as you would blindfold him while riding his cock. He furrowed his brows at the pleasurable memories you both shared. 

You were a kinky one between you both, and he was eternally grateful. He found himself restlessly stroking his cock before his orgasm approached. He felt himself buck his hips in anticipation as his body craved your dominant touch.

He felt himself go numb as his orgasm’s approached increased within his fast pace. He clutched his shut as his mouth was shamelessly agape with loud yet masculine moans escaping his dry lips that were lonely without yours. 

His head was leaned on his favorite chair’s headrest as his legs shifted slightly with jolts from the eradicating pleasure he brought upon himself.  

He felt his orgasm approach. “Y/N!” He squealed as his semen leaped out of his cock's slit while his hips were bucked along with his toes curled. He found himself on his favorite chair groggily: directly attempting to wait for you.

You were actually right there, standing with your arms crossed from your breasts as your eyes scanned his pleasurable frame. “Am I interrupting something?” You asked seductively. He let out a yelp before shuffling his boxers on. 

He hustled to his feet with his boxers on as his hair was slightly messy. It didn’t take you long to pin him to the wall, no matter how short or tall he was compared to you, you met his desperate eyes.

You started to attack his lips which he allowing, he shut his eyes deeply, slight joyful that he was at your mercy. You continued to fight with dominance until you dropped your lips off of his. 

He mentally whined without the comfort of your lips as your gaze turned to his erected cock that was hidden behind the safety of his boxers.

You smirked at the sight as Barry shut his eyes shut to ignore the embarrassment of his body. You slowly dropped his pelvis part of his boxers where his cock sprang out. 

You let another smirk caresses your features as you grow wetter at the sight of his girth. 

You look up at him who stared with despairing glint in his eyes.  “Y/N, please.” He groaned as he breathlessly writhed slightly. You rose a brow. “Please what, Barry?” You asked teasingly yet innocently.

He grunts in response cause you know what you’re doing to him. “Touch me.” He begged as his cock let out pre-cum. You grinned before dancing your delicate fingers on his swollen cock. You stroked through his girth slightly.

He let out moans as his elbows hit the wall as his hand was rolled back. You felt yourself grow more wet.

He felt you stop as you licked off the substance was oozing out of his cock's slit. “Take us to the bedroom.” You commanded with a whisper into his ear. He nodded eagerly before lifting you and using his flash speed to be in the bedroom on the bed. 

You grinned as you pushed against the mattress before teasingly undressing out of your clothes. He felt himself grow more erected at the sight of your bare body. 

You gently caressed his redden cheeks as you grinded yourself on his tip. “Baby....please. I’ve been nghhhh so...so..good!” Barry whined as he couldn't take the teasing no longer. You grinned before slamming your entrance onto his large length.

He submissively moaned as you bit your quivery lip. You prevented yourself from moaning as waves of bliss flooded your body as you bounced yourself onto Barry’s cock. 

Barry had been moaning loudly and uncontrollably as drool poured from his agape mouth to his chin. “Y/N.” He moaned lightly as you continuously bounced yourself on his cock.  

His hands went to your hips that were arched with your back as his cock deepen to explore your walls. You gritted your teeth before giving a smile at him. “Whose making you feel good, baby?” You asked teasingly as Barry's eyes were barely open. “Y-You....fuckkk..are.'' He submitted his hips bucked up to feel your walls better.

You curled your toes slightly at his action as you let out a small moan. You gritted your teeth before staring down at Barry. You comfortingly danced your fingers onto his abs. 

He let out another sharp moan until he felt his orgasm approach. “Y/N! I'm close” He pointed out as you continued to tickle his abs. He had tears prickle from overstimulation of your walls clenching.  

You increased your pace and rode him hardly and deeply. He arched his back as he leaned his head back into the pillows comfort. 

He moaned in pure bliss as his liquids spurted from his slit and empties his balls within your now drenched walls. You both came together. You both breathlessly let out pants.

You slide yourself off of his cock. You shifted a bit before falling onto his pale chest. You grunted a bit as his sperm leaked out of your drenched yet aching pussy. He laid a kiss on your tired frame. “Thank you, Y/N.” Barry said calmly as he wrapped the covers over both of your bare bodies. 

You both cuddled and chatted before falling into slumber, side by side.

ᴠ. ꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ

Victor is confused with a passion. Sure, before he used to masturbate to keep his mind eased when he was a football player. Post-fall though, every thought about you made a circuit react. He didn't know what happened. 

He thought his systems were malfunctioning, but traveling inside his head, it was just his systems reacting to your features; as if his current state had a mind of its own. If his systems enjoyed your presence, he sure did. (YALL THOUGHT I WAS GONNA LEAVE HIM OUT?!)

You both been together before the accident. You were his personal-cheerleader. Now in his current state, he doesn’t allow it to prevent himself or you to feel good. When you weren’t around, its frustrating to know if you were safe:

Victor gets paranoid whenever you weren’t around. You were always inside the apartment which required you not to go anywhere. Victor lost his parents and many people in his life and he just doesn’t want to add you to the list.  

He would use any source of technology and intelligence to track or follow you. To you know... make sure your safe! It’s not stalking if it’s for a good cause! Right?... 

He felt himself at ease at your smiling face as the screen on the holo-pad Victor had your talking frame with a friend.

He felt a circuit react with excited whirrs. He stared down at his body within the hoodie. He felt the pleasurable circuits whirr more. He felt himself shake at the pleasure. He thought about you. Your smile, your body, your eyes, your dimples, and god..your beautiful face.  

He found himself lowly groaning as his metallic body had been whirring. His father did mention that he was going to see unexpected changes but this; this was something new. He let out a small groan as his systems returned with more strange robotic interactions.

He shifted a bit under his hoodie. Using his robotic eye; he scanned his systems. He rose a brow as the sudden act his systems. His robotic eye claimed the thought of you had been sending his body to overload.

He found himself pleasure as you continued to fill his mind. He stared down at the holo-pad at your smiling expression. He shifted his legs as he attempted to be cautious. He felt himself go numb. He was feeling pleasure for once after the accident. 

He was truly in love.  

He let out a small grunt as he wanted to remain focus. His vision on his eye blurred from the bliss. His systems continued to pleasure themselves. He felt himself thinking of the time you rode his thigh. 

He always loved seeing you with erotic expressions as you rode his thigh then orgasmed. He felt another circuit popped as he let out a groan.

He felt himself go slightly numb as his body shook slightly. He felt his overload approach his systems continuously did they're pleasurable acts. He licked his dry lips as his overload increased rapidly. 

He leaned his head back with a long groan as his overload spurted within his systems. He felt oil leak out of the open crevices of his robotic body.  

He fell back on the couch a bit breathlessly. You were just watching over the corner. Pleasuring yourself at the sight of his own unique way of masturbating about you. “I see you, Y/N.” He stated simply as you walked out of your hiding place with a small embarrassed grin. 

He used an extended hand to bring to close to him. You straighten your spine as the extended tentacle allowed you to approach victor.

He pulled you with his robotic hand to caress one of his thighs. “Undress.” He said quietly into your ear. You let out a breathless gasp at his seductive voice; even if robotic. You nodded swiftly before removing the clothes you had on. 

You were too eager. You were now bare in front of victor who gave a chuckle at the sight of your shivering body. He pulled you to straddle his robotic thigh.  

You shivered as your bare pussy was on cold metallic armor. You let out a breathless gasp as he grinded his thigh onto your bare clitoris that was begging to be stimulated. Victor was already feeling pleasure from his circuits reacting to your touch. 

He used his other abilities to allow his thigh to vibrate under your bare pussy that was soon leaking substances of excitement.

The vibrations had been making small noises. You let out small mewls and moans at the feeling of pleasure that your maidenhood was feeling. “Ohhhh...Victor...” You whimpered slightly that was barely a whispered. He hummed while looking at your erotic expression. 

You felt butterflies in your stomach as his husky breath was near your ear teasingly. His systems were taking in on your bare appearance.  

The way your breasts bounced from his thigh that you rode. He chuckled at your moans as your orgasm build up. He could tell when your orgasm approached due to his scanning’s. 

You were in every file within his mind. He learned from you. He studied you. He knows exactly your body operates. What it craved and what it doesn't.

He smiled as you gripped his shoulder plates with slight aggression as your orgasm approached closer. You felt your clitoris vibrating with his thigh. You released your hands off his shoulders before cupping his face. You leaned in before kissing his human side of his cheek. Then the robotic part.

He felt his systems go into overdrive from your blissful action. “Damn..” Victor murmured as he felt his systems overload. “Victor...” You muttered as you let out a long moan as your orgasm had been reached. You arched your back as your head was leaned upwards towards the ceiling as you saw stars from a rough orgasm.  

You panted harshly while you attempted to regain your strength. You felt your orgasm liquids leaked out of your entrance and onto his thigh where he let out a small satisfied hum. 

He looked at you as you looked up at him. You both shared a passionate kiss.

The rest of the night; you both shared cuddling as he used his body heater while you both watched random shows and movies off the television you encouraged him to get. You both were smiling; victor couldn’t cease it. 

You both were happy and sexually relived. Together

© tonystarksproperty

ᴄʟɪɴᴏᴍᴀɴɪᴀ | ᴊ.ʟᴇᴀɢᴜᴇ

gn reader ykkkkk

disclaimer: clinomania is an excessive desire to remain in bed

ʙ.ᴡᴀɴʏᴇ

Upon finding out that you were a bed addict: Bruce is at ease. It’s a 50/50 type of adjustment. It is beneficial in some circumstances. He doesn't have to run around, chasing you around Gotham or worry about escaping.

He practically spoils you with the highest quality things for sleeping. 

A lovely custom made king sized silk sheeted with both of your favorite colors along with matching pajamas and if you act right: squishmellows.

He doesn't care that you sleep every day, he is usually in his bat-cave or risking his life somewhere, however, whenever he have may time on his side: spend time with him.

A good thing about this is that it actually convinces him into getting full 7 hours of sleep, if he’s lucky maybe even 4. 

He's touch-starved after 30+ years in working apart of Gotham as Batman so don’t just remove him and hump a pillow.

He wants you to love him, rely on him, cherish him and vice versa.

So even if sleeping in all the time won’t be an issue in the beginning of this quarrel it will be eventually. 

Now, it takes Bruce a while to be tested over his limits, as Gotham’s best; he is a very patient and studious man, it takes a while for him to get very riled up. 

So, when it is becoming an issue for Bruce, it is an issue that must be dealt with accordingly and better yet abundantly.

He just wants you to rely on him. But he can't just have you sleeping all the time. He refuses to force anything. He maybe a stalker but at least he has class and you can’t penalized him for it.

He tries his very best to keep everything consensual to the max.

As much as he would die and kill for you. He’ll respect it. Until he can no longer take it. But all he asks is for your love, not snores.

He finds it harder and that you both are drifting apart. 

When he does finally confronts you about it, you instantly spat back with the same aggression.

He then loses it all when you blame him for the clinomania. “Maybe you should start getting off your ass and do something about it instead of bitching about it in your sleep, like a fucking coward you always are.” his tone matches his rude demeanor, and that night: he slept in the bat cave.

You both end up “disagreeing.” that night. 

However, it doesn’t take long when you both are back on the same terms, you now spend more time with him (even if you hate him)

You know he means well at his heart but his words doesn’t match that energy and E+ for effort, right?

Although, the mighty Bruce Wayne is patient, caring and selfless: do not be fooled when it tests his level of patience. He plans everything through to prevent catastrophe. 

Out of all of the league; Bruce is the most coordinated

ᴄ.ᴋᴇɴᴛ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Clark is bruised. It is such an overwhelming emotion when your soulmate just gives up on you like that. Will you leave him like Lois? Will he not be able to protect you? 

Perhaps, it is his insecurities or possible PTSD corrupts his level of judgement but he refuses to even allow you out of his sight.

He walked inside your shared bedroom to find you there laying lifelessly. He used his abilities to fly you to the hospital. When you woke up, you would wake up from the light in the hospital lights. 

Rubbing your eyes, you let out mini yawns. “Where are we, Clark?” You yawned while smacking your dry lips together as you search the white hospital room with grogginess.

Clark would stand there, motionless and pale with his mouth agape from the confusion as the doctors behind him had exited the room with slight annoyance.

It wasn’t long until he pulled you to his chest and cried his eyes out, claiming how he assumed he lost you just like everything else around him he cherished. However, you had no sympathy from the man who stole you from your home.

Days turned into weeks when you were on the couch, refusing to sleep in the same room as him: he would just watch. His strength and rush of adrenaline prevent him from needing sleep, he would just watch. 

You in his ray of vision makes a wave of bliss rupture throughout his body, it was a sensation he did not wish to cease.

He didn’t have the time to worry about the world. Metropolis, not even the league when you are his purpose and his future.

He forces you out of bed, and you cannot fight the last son of Krypton, so you oblige. Gym dates, picnic’s, beach walks, restaurants even though he (and the help of Bruce) rented the place out because no one should know of your existence. 

Your friends and family had been ghosting you, the moment you had “disappeared.” 

So, there was no one else but him.

With all of this time with him, you then realized that sleeping is possible preventing you to actually know Clark. 

That maybe he wasn’t all that bad when you first met him. He catches on that you’re warming up to him.

On the contrary; chill days on the farm house, watching the television together, his arm draped around you while you lay next to him, he stares at your eyes which you notice instantly. “What?” you asked curiously, full of intrigue of his answer. 

He laughs through his nose. “It’s just good to see that now I’ve finally gotten your attention.” he smiles, after planting a quick peck on your cheek before caressing your shoulder and returns his attention to the television. 

It isn’t only the thought that makes Clark realizes what his primary purpose is: it’s all the distractions he is willing to put aside to make sure nothing will ever happened to take distract his lover from him. 

Out of all of the league; Clark is most impulsive..

ᴅ.ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Diana is obstinate. Perhaps she is maybe overthinking the disorder but it isn’t herself to blame. She isn’t so bad? You should be grateful your friends have both arms. 

So, why must you spend your days, in bed laying there when she’s there?

Most times, you’re not even sleeping. Dazing off as if you don’t wanna be there with her. “Don’t you grow bore to this game of yours?” She greets you as you were slightly awake, barely able to stand with the cup of coffee in your palm. 

She would come home from her human job, surprised to see that you are still able to even walk. “You are given night time for a reason.” Diana continues, a hand on her fancy hips are she gives you ‘the look.’

You stare back at her rather insult. “I’m given nighttime but you take it for your own intimacy..” you sneered with annoyance.

That’s how it always is.

She would come home for you to do something for your health and then that’s the last she would see you.

It’s ironic though. That you still are somewhat relying on her abilities to provide like groceries maybe even snacks.

It just doesn’t feel right, and a god surely doesn’t bite their tongues.

For now; it was time to use the voice that she was given from the gods that blessed her. “My dear, this must end. The childish acts and the foolish games of this cycle.” she says from within the doorframe of the shared bedroom in the penthouse. 

Diana is well aware you are awake. 

The door was off its hedges from the first time you were taken here.

She rounds the bed as you sit up, now realizing she is now serious. “We are lovers, are we not?” she states while you just scoff at her sentence in annoyance. “We are supposed to care and love for each other.” She continues, you look up at her with a now dropped expression.

You found this to be unentertaining. “You have truly shown that you no longer care.” Diana says, her gaze dropping as her eyes become glossy while her body shook with discomfort. 

You wince, she was crying. Fake crying. “I-I will spend more time with you,” you say as you swing your legs over the bed to embrace the now trembling woman.

You felt a coil in your stomach as you hugged your captor. The feeling was unsettling but anything to get some peace and quiet. “I will spend more time with you.” You coo reassuringly as you soothe her embrace with yours, her arms wrapped around yours in almost an instant. 

Diana was never so easily convinced.

It was wrong, but when was anyone so ever perfect? It was something that had to be done. 

A re-motivator, an eye opener is what she would call her performance the other day.

You now spend more time with her. You claimed her as your lover! Surely things will now be different, no more walking into the penthouse with a back turned to her, but rather a warm welcome. 

Diana maybe cruel, but she is no fool. It would be best for her to leave the situation alone, wait for the right timing. She is almost like Bruce, but what separates her is her pride. Diana would probably be the type of yandere to “handle” the problem in a more straight-forward way.

Out of all of the league; Diana is most manipulative.

ᴀ.ᴄᴜʀʀʏ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Arthur is crazed. He would joke and attempt to hide his anger: not wanting to scare you, but there is this uprising that is waiting to be unleased.

He is probably the least patient within the league: and not afraid to express his emotions and probably a brat sometimes but maybe some can’t handle the honest truth.

He is honestly the less strict and most laidback but to a certain extent.

When he find you sleeping the first time after he kidnapped you: its cute to him. 

He thinks you’re dream your way out of this walking nightmare of a relationship, well that's what he thought at first. 

However, that “cuteness” easily went away when you were just laying down, not even sleeping, listening to your favorite song. Not even reading a book or catching up on your series. 

You were like....a dull person with no meaning or purpose in life.

Have you always been like this? When he took saved you, did he miss a day in your life?

It doesn’t take long until he confronts you head on. Like Diana, but instead of a thought-out plan; he goes straight in, just like he always does. 

You hear his loud, wet boots echo through the wooden floors of the house and the door is wide open so he walks in. 

His body and hair dripping in water which makes you scrunch and turn your back to him. He takes a seat, not minding the mess he is leaving on the bed.

He roughly nudged you slightly, hoping to get your attention. You groan annoyingly but turn your face slightly to oblige his presence. “You gonna get out of bed or what?” Arthur asks while you gaze off into space.

You then roll your eyes, finding his presence a complete waste of time. “Hey, when are we gonna talk? Like an actual couple?” He raises his voice a bit, this time you sit up and match his aggression.

You kiss your teeth harshly. “So the type of couple that ruins lives? Teach me of how a ‘couple’ is suppose to act, Arthur.” You spat with annoyance. His nostrils flared as he clearly shows more anger within his expression. 

Now, you’ve crossed a line. “Well, why don’t you get the hell off of your ass for once and maybe I can show you that I ain’t really that bad.” He replies with a very much more pissed off look.

You then stare at him like he was insane, which he was. “Well, you haven’t really done anything to show you’re good either!” He then just seem like he was holding himself back from anything. 

You scoffed sheepishly. Who did he think he was, better yet, who did he think you were? “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I hit a nerve, your highness?” You mocked groggily.

Just about you were going to lay down, a calloused hand had been wrapped around your throat, forcing you out of the comfort of the sheets and now chest-to-chest with Arthur..

A very enraged Arthur who hadn’t even realized he was hurting you. “I bust my ass providing for you and all you do is just lay around! You know how much people would kill to be you right now?!” His grip was even more tighter than it was before.

However, You weren’t even taken chances even if you were going to die, even if you could see dots when your vision blurred. At least you didn’t have to be near him. “Go be with them..then.” You managed to croak until he soften his grip, allowing you to gasp for breath.

He chuckles loudly, and pretends to think hardly. “Thought ‘bout it. Don’t wanna.” He says, his grip from your throat was gone as he keeps you in his arms.

Of course you were scared, you could feel death from him. “I chose you.” He murmured slightly, his muscular yet moist arms kept you in an embrace, while you were confused and very much scared; since the moment you got here.

Your glare deepen, not giving him the reaction he expected but that honestly turned him on a bit. Soon, a very long exhausting kiss was met between you both. Tongues wrestling with yours that caused you to painfully grip his arms in weary.

Then he dropped you onto the bed. He got up and made his way to the door. “Try sleeping that off. Call me if you want an orgasm.” he said, leaving as if nothing happened. 

Arthur maybe a douchebag but he isn’t as sinister! He just has a hard way of expressing what he wants in a romantic type way. You just know where to hit him, and it really gets under his skin. He never wanted to use anyone you love against you but, damn, he needed to go extreme.

Out of all of the league; Arthur is the most sadistic.

ʙ.ᴀʟʟᴇɴ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Barry is bothered. Not like he has a problem with it (he does). Everyone needs a little break. Surely you did too.

It’s a big adjustment. Living with a complete stranger that claims they love everything about you! So he get’s it totally. He doesn’t get that you’re just in the bed and just laying there though. 

Like a NPC in one of his video games almost. 

Barry has the tendency to overthink a lot. He claims that you’re just waiting for the right time to leave him! 

Perhaps installing that camera in the warehouse wasn’t the worst idea.

Ever since you both been together, he always seems he is coming “home” alone.

No warm welcome.

No massage.

Nothing.

He wants you to like kiss him or show affection. He doesn't want to be the only putting energy in the relationship. He felt like you were giving up. 

Like Clark he would find some things for you to do. You would go on dates. Not expensive dinners but dates. He would take you to the movies, strolls in the park, small coffee dates. Something to keep you busy

With the money Bruce gave him; he would take you on small trips. He just wanted you to spend time with him, you know. He just wants the love that he craved for what feels like forever.

Walking back into the warehouse: after a very unencouraging conversation with his father in jail, he comes back with you no where to be found. 

He sighs, not even angry or sad: just so disappointed.

He threw the groceries to the ground before stomping towards the bedroom. He isn't angry; he is just disappointed and maybe sad. “H-Hey? Maybe we can have a quick chat? If you’re not cool, I get it.” He stammers a bit, damnit why can he ever NOT be awkward.

You turn immediately yet groggily. “I think we both drifting away with each other.” Barry says, getting an intrigued look from you with a head tilt. He notices quickly and panics. “I know that I am not the best right now with the debt and everything, and I’m sorry for that.” He stammers, taking breathy gasps of breath as you notice he is becoming anxious.

He breaks eye contact to rub his glossy eyes, licking his now dry lips and continues. “I really do care and love you but I just want to-” He continues, soon interrupted with an embrace from you. 

His arms drop to his sides, unfortunately, the tears will not stop. 

You felt yourself go numb from the tears falling from his eyes. “I’ll do better.” You say, holding him more gently and it was like words in heaven.

He felt himself stop crying within your embrace before wrapping you into his arms as you cuddled for the rest of the day.  

Although Barry is the most immature, there are times when even he, the dummy of the league can become very sensitive. Maybe he is being sensitive, or maybe he cares a lot. He was always taught how to love and he just wants to help you in the best way he can.

Out of all of the league: Barry is the most gullible.

ᴠ.ꜱᴛᴏɴᴇ

Upon finding that you were a bed addict; Victor is curious. It’s not his place but shouldn’t you be out living your best life? Not wanting you to escape or anything but like you’re human! You should be out winning football games or shopping or something with your friends.  

He doesn't force you to get up cause like he’s afraid he will hurt you with his body but he does convince you to go outside. “Wanna go shopping?” or “there's a grocery store with your favorites.” He can and will hack everything that is intelligence and robotic to cheat your way through life.

He wants you to know that even with his current state: he can be slightly useful in a way. He wants you to know that there is something can be valuable to life other than just laying down in bed. 

He scans you whenever he pleases. Checking your vitals etc. He would just stare at you, you’re the only thing he had left.

Like Clark, he would watch you sleep: because what he has become, sleep is not a necessity to him. 

Your peaceful and stress-free expression as you slept your worries away. He didn't waste any time before sitting near your bed. He then scanned your body health which was up to his standards. 

He let out a small chuckle before watching you grunt. He rose a brow as his robotic eye scanned your mind. His eye widens at the stage you went through.  

That’s why you always slept in! He felt himself grow guilty from the problematic events you had to go through. Bullying, discrimination, family problems, trust issues, parental issues, dead relatives and friends etc etc.

He never felt so upset before. 

He would wake you up with your favorite food from your favorite restaurant. “Y/N,” He greets you. It was rare to see you out of the bed. Of course you would get up for food and yet again his predictions paid off again. You just do a small and sloppy wave.

He checks your vitals again, just in case you were unhealthy. “Last night, I was there when you slept,” Victor continues and you almost drop your glass. “How many times do I have to tell you to NOT watch me when I sleep!” You screech annoyingly, it was so uncomfortable to you. 

He ignored your outburst and continued, “I know what happened, your childhood. The pain, the suffering..” He said reassuringly, causing you to stare at him with mouth full. You then blink into a shocked state when you realize what he meant.

Victor walks beside you. “Please know that I’m here. You never have to do anything alone again.” He spoke while his robotic hand went to the center of this chest-plate. 

You smiled with tear-filled eyes before jumping onto his lap and hugged him. “Thank you.” You muttered, actually glad that it was all out there as he pulled you into an embrace. “You’re welcome.” He replied as his hands soothingly comforted your back.

Perhaps, Victor is a stalker, maybe curious. He will always knows with the cursed knowledge given and automatically investigates the source of the clinomania. He shows more mercy and remorse towards his S/O sleeping habits that doesn't bother him much due to him always being by their side. 

Out of all of the League; Victor is most sympathetic.

© tonystarksproperty

no. 1 party anthem — clark kent (superman) ! ᢉ𐭩

⟢ synopsis. what was supposed to be a night for work takes an unexpected turn when you run into clark kent—alone at a restaurant, waiting for a date who seems to have no intention of showing up. poor guy.

⟢ contains. clark kent x reader, ots and lots of fluff! it is one of the more romantic things i have written, cute blind date, characters are dumb, set up date, lois is a mastermind, i do not know anything about journalism, pinning from both sides but too shy to do anything about it.

⟢ word count. 5.8k+

⟢ author’s note. i can’t get this man outta my head pls help me 😣 the voices!!! also feel free to imagine this as any clark (and i mean any i swear: comic book, adventures with superman, tom welling, david corenswet, henry cavill, or even reeve)

“Hey, you’re gonna hate me but I’m gonna be like 10 minutes late. You go ahead and check in and order. The table should be under my name. I’ll pay the bill. I’m so sorry!”

You weren’t exactly surprised when the message lit up your phone screen. You rolled your eyes, exhaling through your nose. If there was one thing you knew about Lois Lane, it was that urgency wasn’t always her strong suit—unless it involved an exclusive scoop or a headline-worthy disaster with Superman. Still, considering this was supposed to be a work-related meeting, you had half-expected her to arrive early, not leave you waiting.

You typed out a quick reply, telling her it was fine when it really wasn’t, telling her to take her time when you wished she wouldn’t. Then, slipping your phone back into your bag, you made your way toward the hostess stand.

“Table under the name Lane?” you asked, offering a polite smile.

The hostess nodded, flashing you a warm smile in return. “Right this way.”

As she led you through the restaurant, you took in your surroundings with subtle curiosity. The place was charming—exactly the kind of cozy, floral-accented spot Lois would dig up for an ‘informal work chat.’ The kind of place that felt like it had stories tucked between its soft candlelit tables and ivy-draped walls.

You tried to dress the part, too—professional but approachable. You weren’t here for a casual dinner, after all. This meeting was supposed to be a quick sit-down with a lawyer Lois had arranged, someone who could confirm a few key details for a piece you were both working on. A case involving a corporation and some shady legal maneuvering—Lois had the sources, but you were the one handling the research. You’d spent the past week buried in legal jargon, piecing together statements and contracts, and now you just needed a professional to verify what you suspected before the article could go to print.

By the time you reached your table, you were already running through the questions in your head, mentally preparing for the conversation. The restaurant wasn’t grand, but it was stunning in its own way. You admired the decor, taking in the quiet hum of conversation and the delicate clink of silverware.

At least if Lois was late, you had time to go over your notes one more time.

You ran your hands over your portfolio, smoothing the cover absentmindedly as you flipped through the pages. The neatly typed notes stared back at you, but none of the words really registered. All you could do was wait—for the lawyer, for Lois, for some sign that this wasn’t going to be a complete waste of time.

With a sigh, you reached for the glass of wine you ordered a few minutes ago, taking a slow sip before setting it back down. You had to pace yourself, or you’d drain the whole thing before anyone even showed up. You checked your phone, hoping for an update, but the screen remained frustratingly blank.

Disappointed, you rested your chin on your hand, eyes drifting across the restaurant. The warm glow of golden light reflected off polished wood and delicate floral centrepieces, the soft murmur of conversation blending with the occasional clink of silverware. Your waiter had already stopped by twice, politely offering more appetizers while you tried not to look as painfully alone as you felt. If they came by again, you weren’t sure if you’d accept out of politeness or embarrassment.

And then, just as you took another sip of wine, a familiar figure walked through the entrance.

Clark Kent.

You blinked, watching as the hostess led him inside, guiding him through the rows of neatly arranged tables. Even from where you sat, you recognized the way he carried himself—like he was constantly trying to shrink his presence, shoulders slightly hunched, movements careful and deliberate. It was ironic, really, considering how much space he naturally took up. Clark was tall, broad-shouldered, and impossible to miss, yet he carried himself like he didn’t want to be noticed.

You knew him, but not really.

Not as much as you want to.

You were office acquaintances at best—two reporters who shared the same workplace, desks across from each other, but rarely the same conversations. There had been moments, though. Fleeting ones. Catching his lingering glances during late nights at the Daily Planet, both of you working in near silence, save for the tapping of keyboards. A handful of polite exchanges over the coffee machine, his voice always gentle, soft-spoken. And then, of course, there were the times someone would call out "Hey, Smallville!" across the office, earning a sheepish smile from Clark as he adjusted his glasses and ducked his head.

He looked nice tonight. Not too different from his usual work attire, but more relaxed. A crisp button-up, sleeves pushed up just enough to reveal a strong line of his forearms, dress pants fitted just right. He had forgone the tie, leaving the top button undone. Simple, but put-together. Effortless in a way that shouldn’t have been so charming, but somehow was.

And then you realized the hostess was leading him closer.

You quickly dropped your gaze, staring into your half-empty wine glass like it suddenly held the secrets of the universe. The last thing you wanted was to be caught staring, especially while sitting alone, nursing a drink, and very clearly sulking.

Maybe, just maybe, if you looked busy enough, you could avoid drawing any attention at all.

And for a moment, it worked.

You picked up your phone again, checking the time for what had to be the hundredth time that night. With a little too much urgency, you started to type out a message to Lois—something casual, something that wouldn’t sound desperate, something that would make it seem like you weren’t upset about currently sitting alone in a nice restaurant, swirling the last remnants of your wine waiting for her to get there. You were so focused on forming the perfect text that you almost missed it—

Your name.

Spoken softly, but clear. Familiar.

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard. The voice had a weight to it, warm and steady, like someone genuinely surprised but pleased to see you. You swallowed and glanced up, feigning a search for the source before your gaze finally landed on Clark.

He wasn’t seated directly beside you but rather at the table across, angled just enough that you had to turn your head slightly to meet his eye. His lips curled into a sheepish smile, glasses slipping just a little down the bridge of his nose before he quickly pushed them back up again.

“Hi.”

That was all. Just hi. Simple, unassuming, but it made something settle in your chest, something you hadn’t even realized was tense.

You couldn’t bite back the smile forming on your own lips. “Hi, Clark.”

“Hey.”

A kind man with few words.

Though you’d heard him talk endlessly before, especially with Lois—deep in discussion, debating headlines, getting lost in conversations about ethics and reporting. But with you, it was always something short and sweet. A few words here and there. And yet, even the simplest conversations had a way of lingering. Would it be silly to admit that your brief, slightly awkward chats with Clark kind of made your day? Even when it was just him asking to borrow an extra pen?

God, you felt like a teenager again, having a crush on a classmate.

You watched as he rubbed at his cheek, the scruff there catching the soft glow of the restaurant lighting. His pointer finger rested idly at the seam of his lips, and you forced yourself to focus—not to stare at his mouth, not to let your gaze linger anywhere it shouldn’t.

He was your coworker, for fuck’s sake.

A really pretty one.

A really kind, really good-looking coworker.

You exhaled lightly, pressing your fingertips against the stem of your glass as if that might ground you. “It’s nice to see you.” The words came out before you could stop them, but they were true. It was nice.

It was almost like he perked up at that, his posture straightening just a little. “Yeah, great to see you too. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“I... I could say the same.” Your cheeks were starting to hurt from how much you were smiling. You tried to temper it, but it was hard when Clark Kent was looking at you like that—all honey-eyed.

“Are you here for work?” he asked, casting a pointed look at the portfolio by your hands, stacked neatly beside your drink.

You glanced down at it as if you had momentarily forgotten it was there. “Um, yeah. I’m meeting with a source, so... they should be here any minute.”

Clark’s brows lifted slightly. “It’s your story on LexCorp, right?”

Your fingers, which had been absently tracing the condensation on your glass, paused. “Yeah, it is actually.” You blinked at him, a little surprised. “How’d you know?”

His smile was almost bashful, his hand brushing the back of his neck in that way he always did when he was being modest. “Oh, I just remember you mentioning it a few days ago. It’s a great story.”

Something in your chest tightened—not in a bad way, just in a way that made you feel warm all over. You hadn’t expected him to remember, let alone bring it up. The conversation you’d had at work had been so brief, just an offhand remark about how you were stepping outside your usual comfort zone. No one else had really asked you about it since.

“You think?” You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. “I thought it was kind of a stretch. I mean, like—a stretch from what I usually write, you know? I don’t really deal with politics and corporate stuff and all that.”

Clark shook his head, that gentle, reassuring look in his eyes making it impossible not to believe him. “I’m sure it’ll be great. You’re an amazing writer.”

You were smiling even wider now. Compliments weren’t uncommon at the Daily Planet—people gave each other nods of approval, a “good job” here and there. But Clark said it like he meant it, like he had read your work, thought about it, believed in it.

It reminded you of the time he had quietly left a sticky note on your desk after an article of yours had been rushed to print. Really great work on this one! -CK. You’d found it hours later, after everyone had gone home. It had been such a small thing, but you’d kept the note tucked inside your notebook anyway.

You felt your cheeks warm. “Thanks, Clark. I think you’re a great writer too.”

He ducked his head slightly, smiling. “Thank you.”

There was a beat of silence, not awkward, just something familiar to the pauses between you two at the office. Expect this time you didn’t have any work to distract yourself with. You hesitated before finally breaking it.

“If you don’t mind me asking… what’re you doing here?”

“I, uh… I have a date, actually.”

“Oh.”

It wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. But for some reason, you felt your stomach drop slightly, and you almost wanted to smack yourself in the head for not catching on sooner. Of course, he was here on a date, looking like that—all charming and shy.

He even smelled good, like fresh linen and something warm, something undeniably Clark.

“I know how it looks,” he started, and you noticed the way his shoulders began to hunch in on themselves like he was trying to make himself smaller. “Feels strange. I don’t think I’ve been dating since college.”

You let out a breath of amusement, nodding slowly. “Wow. Uh—good for you, though. I’m happy for you.”

“Yeah, I mean…” He hesitated, then glanced up at you, a little sheepish. “Can I be honest?”

“Of course.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s a blind date, so I have no idea what this person looks like or who they are.”

You blinked. “You don’t know anything?”

“They’re a friend of Lois.” He exhaled lightly, shaking his head. “But that’s as much as I got.”

“Oh.” Your lips parted, then closed. “I’m sure you’ll do fine, Clark.” You shot him a small, hopefully reassuring smile. “I’ll be here for moral support.”

He huffed a quiet laugh. “You’ve got your thing to worry about.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help a friend out too.”

The words left your mouth before you had a chance to really think about them. Friend. You wondered if you could even call yourselves that. You were more acquaintances if anything—a friend of a friend. But Clark always did little favours for you, and he was always kind to you.

Like the time he had grabbed you a coffee when you’d been stuck in a seemingly endless editorial meeting, dropping it off at your desk without a word. Just a small smile, a quiet “figured you could use one.”

Or the time he’d helped you carry an entire box of research binders up three flights of stairs because the elevator was down. He had done it without hesitation, without you even asking, took it from your hands like it was weightless.

Then there was the time he had lent you his jacket when an assignment had left you stranded in the rain. It had been late, the Daily Planet nearly empty, and you had been standing by the windows, arms wrapped around yourself, shivering slightly as you tried to figure out how to make it home without getting completely drenched. Clark had passed by, paused, then shrugged off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders before you could protest. “Just give it back tomorrow,” he’d said.

But it wasn’t just him.

You had done things for him too.

The time you had stayed late to help him rework an article after an editor had torn through it with a red pen, sitting beside him as the newsroom emptied, tossing ideas back and forth until it finally felt right. He had looked at you then, something warm in his eyes, and said, “I owe you one.”

Or the time he had misplaced his glasses—how he had checked every possible spot, growing more and more flustered, only for you to walk over and pluck them from where they had been resting atop his head. You had laughed, shaking your head as you handed them back. He had gone pink in the ears, mumbling something about being forgetful, but the way he had smiled after made you think he didn’t mind the teasing.

Then there was the time you had covered for him when he had mysteriously disappeared right before a meeting. Lois had been looking for him, impatient and muttering about how he always seemed to vanish at the worst times. You had lied—just a small one. Said he had mentioned stepping out for a quick errand, and that he’d be back soon. You weren’t sure why you had done it.

Helping him out never hurt. So it shouldn’t hurt one more time.

Well, maybe it would. Just a little bit.

It might hurt your pride, mostly.

“Besides,” you continued, “I’ve been here for almost twenty minutes and no one’s showed up.”

“That’s... odd.”

“I know,” you muttered, glancing at your phone again, the screen glowing with no new notifications. You hesitated, thumb hovering over your messages before sighing and picking it up. “Can you excuse me for a second?”

“Of course,” Clark said, ever patient, though his brows knit together slightly in concern.

You slid out of your seat, weaving through the dimly lit restaurant. The warm hum of conversation filled the air, glasses clinking, silverware scraping against plates. A jazz melody played softly from the speakers, almost drowned out by the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby table. You stepped toward the front, near the entrance, where it was quieter, and pressed the phone to your ear.

Lois hadn’t answered your last two—three?—messages. You tried calling her once. The line rang and rang, then went to voicemail. You exhaled sharply and called again, tapping your fingers against the wooden counter near the hostess stand.

On the last ring, she finally picked up.

"Hello-?"

“Where are you?” You didn’t bother hiding the frustration in your voice, pacing a little near the door.

"I'm... on my way, I swear."

“You said that almost half an hour ago, Lois.”

"I know, I know—I’m sorry. I was just about to call—"

You pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling through your teeth. “And the lawyer, do you know when they’ll get here?”

A pause.

"I… I don’t know."

Your stomach dropped. “You don’t know?”

"No… now that I think about it… I don’t think I confirmed a time."

“Lois,” you breathed, dragging a hand down your face.

"I’m sorry. Maybe we should rain check. I’ll leave them a message or something and we can do this another day."

You glanced back toward your table, then toward Clark, who was politely minding his own business, idly staring at his menu. Your eyes flickered to your untouched portfolio, the very reason you had come out tonight in the first place.

“I need the papers approved by Wednesday.”

"And it’s Saturday night. You have plenty of time."

“This is rich coming from you,” you deadpanned, rubbing your temple.

"I know, just… maybe it’s a sign you gotta take things slow. You know, focusing on yourself instead of work. Maybe you should go to a club or something."

You scoffed, barely biting back an incredulous laugh. “Lois… this fucking sucks.”

"I’m sorry. I’m sorry. It’s all my fault, okay? I’ll take you out tomorrow for brunch, swear on that. I promise. And I’ll transfer you for whatever you order tonight. Keep the receipt and give it to me."

You sighed, glancing down at your shoes. “I’m just gonna go home.”

"What? And waste a perfectly good night? You should stay out, meet new people, socialize with things that aren’t your laptop. Doesn’t that sound nice?"

You exhaled, staring blankly at the floor tiles. “I think a movie from my bed sounds really nice.”

"I’m not even gonna fight you on this."

“Bye, Lois.”

"Bye. Love you."

You ended the call with a quiet sigh, lingering in place for a moment, letting the frustration settle. You had spent the entire day mentally preparing for this meeting, running through questions, making sure every document was in order. Now, all of it felt like wasted energy.

With another steadying breath, you pushed off the pillar you had been leaning against, shoulders still tight with frustration, and made your way back to your table. The restaurant hadn’t gotten any quieter in your absence—if anything, the crowd had only grown as the night grew longer.

Clark glanced up as you returned, and the way his expression softened told you everything—he didn’t even need to ask how the call had gone. He just knew.

Still, before he could say anything, you beat him to it. “Your date’s not here yet?” You sank back into your seat, brushing a stray napkin aside as if the small action would help ground you.

Clark shook his head, and he didn’t seem too disappointed. “No, not yet.” He tilted his head slightly, studying you in that quiet, observant way of his. “Is everything alright?”

You blinked at him, still half in your own thoughts. “Hmm?”

“The phone call,” he clarified, “you seem… a little… annoyed.”

That was putting it lightly.

He hesitated, like he wasn’t sure if he should push further, then asked, voice gentle, “Do you want to talk about it?”

The simplicity of it—the way he just offered, no pressure, no expectations—unravelled some of the tension in your chest.

“I don’t wanna bother you about my stuff,” you said honestly.

“It’s no bother.”

You glanced up at him, at the unwavering patience in his expression. “You’re really sweet, Clark. You know that, right?”

A faint pink dusted the tips of his ears. “I wouldn’t say that…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s in your nature?” you teased.

He let out a small, awkward laugh, shaking his head. “I definitely wouldn’t say that either.”

That made you smile—something small, something real.

“Well, it’s true,” you insisted. “Must’ve been the way you were raised.”

“Must’ve been.”

Before you could say anything else, a waiter arrived, carefully setting a starter plate and a drink down in front of Clark. He thanked her politely, offering a small nod before she walked away.

“I, uh…” He gestured to the plate. “I ordered some nachos if you want some.”

You raised a brow. “Shouldn’t those be for your date?”

He gave you an easy, lopsided smile. “They won’t have to know.”

A small chuckle slipped out before you could stop it. “Thanks.”

“Of course.”

The nachos were surprisingly good, crisp and warm under the layer of melted cheese, but you barely tasted them. Instead, your focus kept drifting—to Clark, to your phone, to the door.

At first, you thought about calling it a night. You could have told Clark you were heading home, and he probably would have understood, probably would have even offered to walk you to your car or wait with you for an Uber. But something stopped you.

Maybe it was the way he seemed at ease, talking to you like there wasn’t anywhere else he’d rather be. Maybe it was how easy it was to talk to him tonight, without work looming over you, without deadlines keeping your conversations clipped and efficient. Or maybe—maybe it was the nagging feeling in your gut that kept telling you he was waiting on someone who wasn’t going to show.

You hated that thought.

You didn’t say anything, though, not when another ten minutes passed, not when he checked his phone for the fourth—or was it fifth?—time. You just sat with him, keeping him company, even if you dreaded the moment someone else walked through those doors.

Clark kept insisting his date would be there soon. But every time he said it, the confidence in his voice waned.

By the time another twenty minutes passed, you were sitting with your phone open in your lap, ready to call an Uber. You should go home. It had been a long day, and you weren’t exactly in the mood to be out any more. But you hesitated when Clark spoke again.

“They should be here any minute now,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

You glanced up at him, watching the way his brows pinched slightly as he checked his phone again.

He had said that before. More than once.

You were starting to feel bad for him.

You couldn’t imagine what it felt like to get stood up for a date (work was something else you could get over by tonight but a date?)—to wait around, watching the minutes tick by, hoping that maybe, just maybe, the person you were waiting for was running late instead of ignoring you altogether. And worse, you were starting to get peeved. How could anyone ghost Clark Kent?

But you didn’t say anything. Because he didn’t seem upset.

Or maybe he was just pretending not to be.

Either way, you didn’t want to remind him of the rejection. If he was pushing through it, then so were you.

It wasn’t until another thirty minutes flew by—until the sky outside had fully darkened, the city lights reflecting off the windows—that you finally exhaled and set your phone down.

“My source isn’t coming.”

Clark blinked at you, pulling his gaze away from the door. “Oh?”

“Yeah, there was a mix-up with the times or something.” You waved it off like it was no big deal, even though frustration still sat heavy in your chest. You weren’t nearly as mad as you had been earlier, but you had still wasted your night on something that should have been simple.

Clark studied you for a moment, then gave a small, almost amused huff. “Looks like we’re both out of luck then.”

You watched as his gaze flickered back toward the entrance, and then, after a beat, he sighed.

“I don’t think my date’s coming either.”

Your stomach twisted.

“I’m sorry, Clark,” you said, and you meant it.

“Don’t be,” he told you, and before you could say anything else, he was already flagging down the waiter, asking for the bill. Then, as casually as if he were asking about the weather, he turned back to you and said, “Wanna get out of here?”

You blinked. “And go where?”

He shrugged, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Anywhere. I don’t mind.”

And somehow, that was how you ended up walking down the streets of Metropolis, shoulder to shoulder with Clark Kent.

The night air was crisp, cool enough that you tugged your coat tighter around yourself. The sidewalks were busy with people, cars rolling lazily through the streets, their headlights casting soft glows against the pavement.

You weren’t sure how you had gotten here—how a frustrating, dead-end night had turned into this. But you didn’t hate it.

In fact, you were enjoying every minute of it.

The streets of Metropolis buzzed with an early-night energy. Neon signs flickered, storefronts cast golden light onto the pavement, and the hum of conversation from passing pedestrians filled the air. You walked close to Clark, close enough that your arms brushed with every step.

The silence between you wasn’t uncomfortable, but there was something trusted about it—something new.

You risked a glance at him. He was looking straight ahead, hands tucked into his pockets, shoulders relaxed. But when the light of a passing car swept over his face, you caught the way his jaw tensed slightly, like he was thinking about something.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” you asked.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable for a split second before softening into something reassuring. “Yeah. Why?”

You lifted a shoulder, tucking your hands into your coat pockets as you shrugged. “Just… getting stood up sucks. I figured you’d be at least a little upset.”

Clark exhaled a small huff of amusement. “I mean, yeah, I guess I could be. But I’d rather not waste my night sulking about it.”

You nodded, accepting his answer. But then, after a few seconds, you heard him add, quieter, “Besides… I’m having a nice time.”

Your stomach did an embarrassing little flip.

You kept your gaze forward, pretending like those words didn’t sink into you in a way that left you warm despite the cool night air.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “Me too.”

The conversation lulled again, but this time, it felt different. More aware. More weighted.

And then Clark suddenly spoke.

“Can I show you something?”

You blinked at him, surprised by the shift. “Uh… sure?”

He smiled, but there was something almost shy about it, something hesitant like he was second-guessing himself. “It’s not far.”

Curious, you followed his lead, stepping off the main sidewalk as he turned down a quieter street, where the glow of streetlights gave way to something softer, something greener.

Within moments, you realized where you were headed.

The city park.

You’d been here plenty of times before—Metropolis had its fair share of green spaces, a welcome contrast to the steel and glass of the skyline—but Clark led you past the more well-known paths, past the benches where couples sat talking in hushed tones, past the fountain that usually served as a meeting place.

Eventually, he guided you toward a narrow, gated pathway, tucked between a stretch of trees. He reached for the gate, pausing before glancing back at you.

“It’s, uh… it’s kind of a secret spot.”

You tilted your head, grinning. “Secret?”

His lips quirked. “Sort of. I mean, it’s public, but not many people know about it.”

“Riiight... totally not a cheesy thing to say.”

“Just, come look.”

You watched as he pushed the gate open, stepping aside to let you through first.

You hesitated for only a second before slipping past him, your shoulder brushing lightly against his chest as you stepped inside.

And then you saw it.

A sheltered little garden.

It wasn’t grand, but it was beautiful. A small, enclosed space, with an arched trellis overhead wrapped in evergrowing vines. Flowers bloomed in neatly arranged clusters, their colours muted under the soft glow of the moon and city. A narrow stone pathway curved through the space, leading to a bench beneath another canopy of vines.

The whole thing felt… unreal. Quiet. Removed from the city entirely.

You turned in a slow circle, taking it all in. “This is…” You exhaled, searching for the right word. “Wow.”

Clark smiled, stepping further in behind you. “I found it by accident a while ago. It’s kind of nice, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah. Kinda nice is an understatement, Smallville.”

The two of you lingered in the quiet, the city’s distant sounds muffled by the greenery around you. And when you looked at Clark again, you caught it—

That brief hesitation. That barely-there glance.

Something unreadable flickered across his face before he cleared his throat, looking away, suddenly busying himself with adjusting his glasses.

It was awkward. Endearing.

And for some reason, it made your heart beat just a little faster.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to break the silence. “So, what, you bring all your failed dates here?” you teased lightly.

Clark huffed out a laugh, shaking his head. “No. Just you.”

His voice was light, teasing back—but something about it stuck with you.

Just you.

You had no idea what to say to that.

So instead, you just smiled. And hoped the darkness hid the warmth rising in your face.

Clark shifted beside you, tucking his hands deeper into his pockets, gaze flickering toward the night sky. Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Just... don’t tell Lois about this place.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Or else it’ll be on the front cover of the Daily Planet and it won’t be so secret anymore.”

You snorted. “Figured.”

Then, almost immediately, your lips twisted into a frown. “Ugh, you know what? I’m still kinda pissed off with Lois.”

Clark’s eyebrows lifted. “Lois? What—why?”

You sighed, rubbing at your temple. “She was the one who arranged the whole meeting with the lawyer today. My source. She forgot to confirm or something and cancelled last minute. Can you believe it?”

Clark blinked. “Not really.”

“Yeah, me neither. She’s probably got caught up with Superman again or something—I don’t know.”

Clark’s head tilted slightly, brows drawing together. “Sorry? Superman?”

You waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s just an inside joke between us and our friends. Since she’s so close with the guy, we joke that whenever she’s acting weird, it’s because of him.”

Clark let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “Does she usually?”

“Not really. But we like to watch her squirm when we bring it up.” You smirked. “Anyway, I don’t know what’s gotten into her. She’s been acting weird all week.”

Clark hummed, his gaze thoughtful. “Yeah, I noticed that too. When she was telling me about this date, she just... wasn’t herself, I guess. Left a lot of things in the dark.”

Your steps faltered slightly, your brows knitting together as something in his words made your stomach twist. You turned to look at him, trying to piece together the implications of what he was saying.

“Wait—” You exhaled, mind racing. “Lois set you up?”

Clark slowed as well, blinking as if he’d only just realized you hadn’t put it together yet. “Uh… yeah?” He frowned slightly. “I did say my date was a friend of hers.”

“Right.” You blinked, mind catching up. “Sorry, I must’ve forgotten.”

You stared at him.

He stared back.

The sounds of the city—distant honking, the chatter of pedestrians, the hum of neon signs—faded into a dull blur. It was as if the entire world had taken a collective breath and was holding it, waiting for the two of you to catch up.

Your lips parted, but no words came out. The pieces clicked together—Lois arranging your meeting, forgetting to confirm, being strangely vague about the details.

Oh.

Oh.

Your stomach flipped as realization crashed over you like a tidal wave.

Clark’s eyes widened just a fraction, his breath hitching. And then, almost at the same time—

“…No way.”

You exhaled a quiet, incredulous laugh, shaking your head as your mind reeled. Clark let out a chuckle of his own, one hand running through his hair, his fingers ruffling the strands at the back of his head. His ears—just barely visible under the glow of a nearby streetlight—had turned the faintest shade of pink again.

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

You just looked at each other, as if confirming that, yes, this was real, and yes, Lois Lane had absolutely just played matchmaker.

“Well,” Clark finally said, voice warm, laced with amusement. “At least we won’t have to spend the whole night getting to know each other.”

You laughed, shaking your head in disbelief. “Yeah. Guess not.”

The tension in your shoulders, the nervous energy, the awkwardness of the night—it all melted into something else entirely. Something softer. Something that felt… kind of nice.

Clark was still smiling, his blue eyes bright behind his glasses, and you had to resist the urge to look away, to keep from giving away the way your heart had started beating just a little faster.

He shifted, his hands slipping into his pockets as he glanced down for a second before looking back up at you.

And then, with just the slightest hint of something almost timid in his voice, he asked—

“Can I be honest?”

You tilted your head. “Sure.”

“When Lois was telling me about the date... I was hoping it would be you.”

“…Really?”

Clark nodded, lips pressing together like he was debating whether he should keep going. But then, in a quieter voice, he admitted, “Yeah... It was the only reason I agreed. And when I saw you at the restaurant, I was really excited—until you told me you were there for work.”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “Sorry I let you down.”

His head snapped up. “No.” He shook his head, quickly, almost too quickly. “You didn’t.”

Your stomach flipped.

“I still had fun,” he added, a little sheepishly.

You chewed the inside of your cheek, heart beating faster than you’d like to admit. “You should’ve just said something.”

Clark exhaled a laugh, glancing down again. “I know. I just... I’m not really good at this stuff.”

You smiled, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “You’re doing pretty good so far. Had me swept off my feet.”

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice just a little lower, a little softer.

“Oh yeah.”

A pause. A lingering look.

And then—

“We should do this again.” His lips curled, a little nervous but hopeful. “On purpose next time.”

You grinned widely, feeling warmth spread through you, from your chest to the very tips of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you murmured. “I’d like that a lot.”