#Kryptonian!reader

[invincibledc]

“Question, what do you love your super for?”

TT!Robin: I love my super because of how he’s always there for me.

TTG!Robin: I love my super because he’s the best boyfriend I have!

YJ!Robin: I love my super for his determination to save others.

Injustice!Dick: I loved my husband, and always will for his kind soul.

The robins look at Nightwing concerned.

“You sound like he died—”

“He did.”

The robins:

[pastelclovds]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing: debbie x kryptonian!male!reader x nolan

cw: angst, diabetes amount of fluff, polyamorous relationship, hurt/comfort, pre s2, comfort sex, praise kink, vaginal sex, oral sex, squirting, soft dom!top!reader, spooning position, mentioned past threesomes, infidelity (andressa and nolan in the end 😬).

word count: 1.5k

authors note: continuing from this post a lifetime ago. this is my most angsty fic yet :’) enjoy 💕

the only thing that just as painful as fighting your husband, nolan, the man whom you had loved for two decades after witnessing him beat your son (mark) to a pulp: was watching your wife, debbie break into a million figurative pieces on your bed while she was holding one of nolan’s shirts.

you had always admired her independence and compassion. she taught you and nolan the history, beauty, and culture of this peculiar planet. it wasn’t long until she and nolan had stolen your heart. the house was empty and mark was off to college. you had come back home from the grocery store, a box of debbie’s favorite snacks in your hand when you caught sight of her sobbing self.

debbie was the strongest person in the universe to you. she had always put the needs of others before herself. this time, you’ll be sure to make her feel loved and supported. she didn’t push away from you as you took her into your sturdy arms, nolan’s shirt immediately forgotten.

she let’s out a sob when she felt your lips trailing from her collarbone to her neck. a few tears still manage to escape her closed lids but disappear as you kiss them away. debbie sits on your lap as she hides her swollen face on your chest.

“i’m sorry—”

“you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“how could i’ve been so stupid to believe him for all those years—?”

you gently cup her tear stained cheeks as you softly muttered, “i believed him too. nolan’s betrayal hurt us both. but you’ve been dealing with it all by yourself when we should’ve been dealing with it together, debbie. you’ve been strong long enough, for mark and myself. i’ve never been more proud of you, but now it’s your turn to let go and be taken care of. will…” she gasps when you give her waist a small squeeze, you continue to ask with soft eyes, “…you let me?”

debbie had never felt more loved in her life, she had no clue what she would do if you weren’t there by her side. the bed was never cold. your tender smile greeted her every morning. you treated her like she was a queen worthy of your worship. she was so tired of putting on a facade. tonight, she wanted to be yours.

debbie answers your question by wrapping one of her arms around your neck as her plump lips pressed against yours, to which you warmly welcomed back. all the while, her other hand snuck under your shirt and started stroking your abdomen.

you removed her shirt and unclasped her bra, debbie let out a pleased sigh as her chest was released from its cage and hung free, her nipples hardened under your lustful gaze. you didn’t waste any time in getting naked yourself as debbie continued to strip herself for you. her heart leaped when you stared at her body with the same hunger as when you first saw her naked all those years ago.

a string of slick reveals itself as debbie removes her panties when she catches sight of your toned muscles shining under the light of the sunset peeking through your bedroom window. your dick throbbed and felt heavy as debbie took it in her hand, you shallowed your groans with a steamy kiss as her fingers played with your tip.

before debbie could make a move to take you into her mouth, you stopped her. she stared up at you puzzled.

“i’m supposed to take care of you, remember? i wanna spoil you, make you feel good,” you spoke in a thick tone that it has debbie clenching around nothing. you said nothing as you picked up debbie like she weigh nothing as placed her carefully on the cold bedsheets. you spread her legs apart until you were met with the delicious sight of her wet pussy. your cock jumps and your balls made it painfully clear that they were full than ever. you wanted to dive into her body and never part, but you ceased those thoughts. this was for debbie, not you. there would be a time for that later.

debbie looked up at you with pleading eyes, you lowered yourself down on the floor at the edge of the bed. your hands continued to lovingly caress debbie’s thighs. then, without warning, you leaned your face towards her cunt and push your tongue inside her twitching walls.

“oh fuck— ah! oh, this feels so good,” debbie cried out, her legs wrapped themselves around your head. she didn’t know if it was because you were an alien or whatever, but your tongue always managed to reach the deepest depths of her better than nolan could.

debbie fists the sheets as you continue to stretch her out, but you didn’t stop there. you ravenously sucked her clit, your growls sending pleasant vibrations through out. you devoured her like an inmate on death row. debbie was reminded on how greedy you were when it came to her pussy. whether it was to eating her out or thrusting your fat cock into her, it didn’t matter. you were drunk on her and nolan’s respective holes nonetheless.

debbie let out gasping moans as your tongue flattened over her overstimulated clit and dragged it back and forth. just to throw her over the edge, you pumped your fingers in and out of her sopping pussy, curling them up and pressing them against her walls until they found her sweet spot. you stared up at her with a soft, demanding look, as if you were commanding her to let go and release all over your face.

the only sounds in the rooms were the slurping of your mouth against debbie’s sex and her uncontrollable noises and pleas for more. It was too much and perfection at the same time. debbie shook as she choked out a cry, she sees stars as her orgasm rushes through her and slick squirts over your lips and nose.

debbie laid on the bed like a stringless puppet, her eyes closed as she catches her breath. meanwhile, you rise from the carpeted floor, wipe the clear slick from your face, and use it to lube your hard cock. it had already turned bright red near the tip due to you ignoring it. now the real fun can begin. you give debbie a few minutes to rest, you handed her a bottle water to drink as you showered her in praise.

debbie flushed at the overwhelming adoration. debbie recalled another memory of you taking charge in the aftercare as nolan and debbie held each other in warm embrace after a particularly exhausting session. you made sure they were the most comfortable.

finally, you set debbie sideways on top of the soft pillows as you laid behind her, snaking your arm around her waist as you grind your dick against her entrance. debbie whined when she felt the tip of your cock touch her clit after every movement of your hips.

you peck her neck once more and whisper next to her ear, “i love you, debbie. more than anything else. you aren’t alone, this wasn’t either of our faults. you’re my strong, beautiful wife. nothing’s gonna change that.”

you hear debbie’s breath hitch before salty tears fill her eyes once again. she turns her head and holds onto your neck so she could press a kiss to your lips. your bodies were tangled up like a intimate pretzel, even if you didn’t have your super hearing, you’d still be able to hear debbie’s heartbeat due to how close she was.

nobody else but yourself, debbie and nol—

…nobody else but debbie and youself existed…

debbie pulls away from the kiss first as a few tears escape from her eyes again, she stares at you with pure love and trust as she mutters out, “thank you for everything. i love you more. please, please put it in—”

debbie trailed off and let out a sighing moan when she felt your cock fill her to the brim, your hips press flush against her. your tongue was perfect, but your dick was divine. you were going to do everything in your power to make sure nobody hurt your family again. but in the deepest corner of your mind laid a traitorous thought.

where did nolan go, and was he okay?

after you and debbie were done making love, you use your super human speed to make quick work of clean up and gave debbie one last kiss good night before covering the two of you in a blanket and sleeping peacefully for the first time in weeks.

meanwhile, nolan stared up blankly at the countless stars above him from his spot on the balcony that was just outside his bedroom, where andressa slept peacefully on his bed heavy with his future child. despite how far he traveled, nolan could never run away from the memories of what he’d done. he was a disgrace to his empire, and to his family.

the picture of you and debbie appear in his mind. no matter how many times he tried to deny caring for the two of you: he couldn’t believe it himself. he wished things could’ve been different.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"SMILE FOR THE CAMERA BABY"

TIM DRAKE X KRYPTONIAN!READER

*SNAP ZOOM CLICK*

The camera zooms in on your naked body, taking in every inch of your curves, every contour, every scar, every stretch mark, every spot you try to wiggle away from the camera's vision. But all Tim had to do was move his hands or move your body. You were usually so much stronger than him, but tonight you were weaker, your link to the Kryptonite chains holding your power back, a green glow dancing over your skin. You felt so weak and small under him, whimpering and gasping for air as the camera continued to follow your every move. "You like the cuff I made for you? Took me a couple of months. I had to raid Bruce's Kryptonite stash just to find the perfect one for you." You could see the cocky smile on his face behind the camera. Why did he have to be so perverted? You started to gain your bearings just a little bit until BUZZ. "GAAH!" you moaned out, your body arching, tears rolling down your face. He rubbed your abdomen gently, calming you down, keeping your back pushed against the bed. "It's all right, baby, I'm here," he chuckled softly, the cocky bastard, putting the vibrator on high just to see how you would react. He's evil like that, villainous like that, rubbing circles with the vibrator on your sensitive bud, seeing you shiver and shake. "Aww, crybaby, I'll take good care of you. Just a few more for tonight, or maybe not; this way is too fun." He licked and kissed your tears away from the overwhelming pleasure, putting the vibrator back on high, guiding it up and down your wetness, humming along with the rhythm of the toy. Your body started to go limp, your mouth slacking open as another orgasm hit you like a truck. "Not putting up a fight," he mumbled against your cheek. You stopped thrashing around, pulling out of the cuffs, your body relaxing as you let your thighs tremble. His lips found yours in a heated and sloppy kiss, his tongue dropping down into your throat, making you whine. The kiss separated with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. If you remembered correctly, drool trickled down the corner of your mouth as you gasped for air. Here you lay during the interview. Tim's kisses got desperate as he made his way from your chin down to your neck, placing bites on your collarbones. His lips continued to travel, sucking on your nipples. The camera was still in focus, moving an inch down to where the vibrator was sitting, still buzzing loudly. "That's enough of machines; let me make you scream in the right way." His warm tongue flicked against that sweet bud, and you moaned, your head falling back as you thrashed against the cuffs. "Baby, break these one, and I'll make the next ones even stronger." He suckled gently on your bud with a purr; all you could do was nod.

[v-killallspiders]

HEIR TO THE STARS

Mark Grayson x Kryptonian!Reader

CHAPTER TWO: TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT

It had been three hours since Omni-Man had left the planet. It had been three hours since Mark Grayson’s battered, bruised body was recovered from the side of the mountain he had been abandoned on. It had been one hour since Mark Grayson had left surgery. 

You had been standing outside Mark’s hospital room for one hour. You weren't sure why. You didn’t know Mark and Mark sure as hell didn’t even know you existed - probably still wasn’t aware of your existence after your three second interaction a few hours ago. You were probably the last thing on his mind at that moment with his father tearing the city apart in a fury. 

You were broken out of your stupor by the sound of the door softly opening and closing, Debbie Grayson momentarily leaving her son’s bedside. Debbie looked confused for a beat before recognition dawned on her, “You.. you tried to save him. Tried to save my boy.”

You said nothing for a moment, simply taking in the older woman’s features. Mark was definitely her son, from those soft eyes to the curve of his mouth.

“I did,” you stated simply, giving her a small nod, your hand flexing slightly in the cast you had been given, “I should’ve done better. For him, for you, for everybody else.”

Debbie’s features softened, this was a girl the same age as her boy, her sweet boy. A girl who could’ve been her daughter, carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders. Carrying some sort of misguided guilt because she wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t fast enough to protect people from her husband. Debbie had to hold back the sob she so desperately wanted to let out. Instead she held strong, both for her and the young girl in front of her. Debbie took small, cautious steps towards you, as if approaching an injured animal.

“You tried, that’s all that matters and all that should matter,” Debbie murmured, hands rubbing softly up and down your arms. She nodded towards the room, “Go, I think he’d want to meet you.”

You said nothing as you looked into Debbie’s kind eyes, trying to find any sort of lie or hesitation in there, any sign that she would rather you leave. You found nothing, just pure, unwavering honesty and softness.

You hesitated before backing away from Debbie and making your way towards the room. Using your uninjured arm, you slowly pull the handle down to open the door. The sight that greets you inside is gut-wrenching. Mark looked so small laying in that bed. Smaller than you had ever seen before with his usually large presence and unwavering grin. His face was a patchwork mess of bruises, you couldn’t even see his one eye properly with how swollen and purple it was. 

You clench your jaw. This was your fault. If you’d have been smarter, stronger, faster- you could’ve beat Omni-Man. Could’ve saved Mark, could’ve saved all those other people in Chicago. If you’d have just been what Cecil had actually raised you to be, not this pathetic mess-

“You’re that girl..?” he whispers quietly, his voice raspy from unuse. You immediately try to leave the room, not prepared to actually talk to Mark after spending so many months watching over his shoulder like a guardian angel.

“Wait!,” Mark exclaims, trying to get up from the bed, grunting from the pain, “Don’t go, please.”

You freeze, hand firm on the door handle, prepared to flee at any point, “What’s your name?”

“It’s Y/N,” you reply softly, turning around to face Mark head on, for the first time ever.

“You’ve always been there haven’t you?” Mark asks, not accusing but not quite questioning either, “Always been over my shoulder, watching? Waiting?”

“You saw me?” You asked, completely avoiding his main question, eyes trying to look everywhere but at him.

“No, but I could always feel you. It was driving me crazy,” he murmurs, upper body flopping back onto the bed now that he knew you weren’t about to run off.

You didn’t say anything, simply moved to sit in the chair by his bedside.

“Why,” he asked, shutting his eyes as he leaned back into his pillows.

“Cecil was… concerned,” you paused, trying to find the right words to say that wouldn’t paint your father as a paranoid freak. Not that it would be an incorrect assumption to make.

Mark barks out a dry laugh, his jaw clenching, “Cecil wanted you to make sure I didn’t step out of line, huh?”

“Mark…” you sighed, “It’s not like that.”

Yes it was. Cecil didn’t have a full contingency for Omni-Man so he’d be damned if he had nothing for the older alien’s kid son. Although, you weren’t privy to the full details as to what Cecil had planned, which was frustrating in itself.

“Dont! Don’t sit there and lie to me please…” Mark snapped, before exhaling deeply, “Would you have ever come to me - if my dad didn’t decide to rearrange my entire fucking face?”

You flinch at his tone, “I don’t- I don’t know, Mark.”

Mark just nods in defeated silence, refusing to look at you.

“I’m Mark Grayson, what’s your name?” He suddenly blurts out, finally making eye contact with you, a slight twinkle in his eyes - a far cry from the defeated look he had mere moments ago.

You stare at him unblinking before a soft smile breaks out on your face, “I’m Y/N Stedman, let’s be friends?”

[chikaras-garden]

Dick Grayson corrupting Superman’s sidekick. There’s sooooo many rules that Clark has for you and so many rules for Dick to break…

✨new AU unlocked✨ meet kryptonian!reader

You press yourself up against Dick’s chest and watch as what you’re doing dawns on him: his lips part to make way for a breathy laugh, and his eyes light up with a sparkle that’s overjoyed, if defiant—and more than a little dangerous. His arm snakes around your waist, and he bends to press a kiss underneath your ear.

“Aw, look at you,” he teases in a voice that’s just a little mean. One of his hands comes up to toy with the ends of your hair. “Clark never lets you have what you need, huh?”

Quickly, his hand grasps the back of your costume’s skirt—what a thin, useless little swath of red fabric it is—and hikes it up your waist. That hand then palms your ass, and Dick groans at the feel of how sweet, how round, how innocent you are.

“Please,” you beg. You’re pent up. You know this. He knows this. Everyone can see the wildness in your eyes, the innermost feelings that Clark—your mentor—has trained you to control.

It’s for everyone else’s good. That’s our burden. Our sacrifice.

“Don’t beg me,” Dick chastises gently, shit-eating grin etched onto his lips. His fingers dance along your hip, crawling from your back to your front, then down the inside of your thigh. You buck your hips into his hand and he answers by pressing his palm against your sex, rubbing you over your panties.

You’re not supposed to do this. You’re not supposed to feel this. Dick is— He’s your teammate. He’s a human. You’re a bundle of raw power, so uncontrolled that even Clark worries about your ability to keep yourself in line. That’s why you’re not allowed to fight alone. That’s why he’s training you—

Dick’s teeth nipping at your earlobe shakes you free of your thoughts. You’re dizzy with the feeling of him acting like putty in your hands, begging you when you’re usually the one begging him.

“Just take what you want, angel,” he whispers. “Won’t it be fun to lose it a little? Use me however you want?”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hello. (Bingo) Can you write Dark Clark Kent and plus size female kryptoian reader ?

.⋆｡The Last of His Kind｡⋆.

Dark!Clark Kent x plus size reader

Clark is no stranger to loneliness, but a mysterious ship in the middle of the desert could be just the answer he’s been searching for

Warnings: kryptonian!reader, DARK FIC but more soft than my usual stuff, naive reader, kidnapping?, possessive!clark, no use of Y/N, future isolation and controlling behaviour WC: 1k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Clark had always been alone in the universe, an unfortunate consequence of his own people’s arrogance and willing ignorance of the happenings of the world around them. He didn’t mind so much as he had never experienced anything different but after Zod and the briefest of hints that he wasn’t the last, Clark felt a deep stirring in his chest.

He often caught himself staring off into the void between stars, wondering if there were others out there. But his duty was to Earth, he couldn’t just leave because of some slim hope that other Kryptonians lived on a far away planet. And even if there were, they could be like Zod- power hungry and cruel. 

But on a cool day in late October, Clark got his chance to find out.

The office was almost empty, everyone having gone home early to beat the autumn storm that was predicted for later that evening, leaving Clark virtually alone in his block of cubicles. His article was almost done but he found himself picking it apart over and over again, like something deep in the recesses of his mind was telling him to delay returning home for as long as he could. Then, he heard it.

A heavy thud of something crashing into the earth, it had to be bigger than a meteor but far smaller than an airplane or weather balloon. Clark’s head tilted as he focused all of his senses to somewhere in the Sahara. The groan and pop of heated metal slowly cooling, the hiss of air escaping a pressurised chamber. He could smell gunpowder and dust that clung to the shell of whatever it was. But he could also hear the steady beat of something within the metal.

With a cautionary glance around the office, which was now absent of anyone save for him, Clark stood. He was careful enough to shut down his computer and gather his things but as soon as his bag was zipped and he was safely in the stairwell, he darted down the stairs, just barely keeping himself restrained enough not to go too fast and give himself away.

He could hear the beating slowly getting faster. He ran out of the building as the hissing ceased and the familiar turning of gears started, just like it had in the ship he discovered in the arctic. Clark stumbled over his work shoes, the buttons of his shirt practically flying off in his struggle to get out of them. If this was another Zod, he wouldn’t have much time to react before they started acclimating to Earth’s healthy sun. 

His glasses were barely off his nose when he finally heard it, a soft groan- delicate, gentle (as much as a groan could be) and Clark’s heart skipped a beat. She let out another soft sound and Clark finally took off. 

This could be it, the answer he needed so badly. Perhaps it was an elder who could really teach him about his home world, a child who had been lost just like him. But some deep part of his soul, a piece he had locked away a long time ago, wondered if it was someone his age, someone who would be his equal, his partner.

The sands of the Sahara quickly revealed a huge slash through the dunes, darkened by the heat of the ship’s dramatic entry. The ship itself was halfway buried in the sand, its black hull a stark contrast against the bright sand. Clark landed in front of its rounded end. 

Steam curled around the dark metal but he barely had time to appraise the vessel before a mechanical clanging began and the sand around its side started to shift. Clark darted forwards as a panel lifted and the earth around it immediately began to spill inside. He grabbed at the open frame and tugged the ship free just as its occupant became visible.

She was beautiful.

Large curves highlighted by tight spandex-like material, the exact same as his suit. The symbol spread over her generous chest consisted of two overlapping circles, one that he didn’t recognise even after his father’s lessons. Clark felt like he couldn’t even breathe as he looked down at her body, everything about her was captivating, hypnotising, everything he had ever wanted. Her hair was pulled back and away from her face, allowing him to observe every blemish and mark of her skin in extraordinary detail. She was a goddess in its truest sense, an ethereal being in mortal form.

And when she finally opened her eyes, he was met with the most brilliant shade of e/c he had ever seen. Panic briefly flashed across her face before she saw his own house symbol and immediately relaxed, her expression more calm than he thought it should be in this situation.

“I’m Kal-El.” Her eyes sparkled in the strong rays of the sun as a small smile crept onto her face.

“Kal.” She repeated his name back to him in a voice far more pleasant than he had ever heard before. Her lips parted again but suddenly her body rocked forwards, as painful coughs rattled through her lungs. Clark swept her into his arms without thinking and pressed her to his chest. She limply clutched at his back as she continued to cough.

He flinched with each of her laboured inhales, his own chest burning with a rage he couldn’t explain. But what he did know was that no one else could know of her. Only god knew what would happen if any government found out about another Kryptonian, especially a female one. Lois and his mother would try to corrupt her mind, encouraging her to leave him.

He wouldn’t let that happen. He would never let himself be alone again.

He could protect her, mould her. She would be safe. No one would know of her existence, not until she knew who exactly she belonged to, the only person that she would ever be able to trust.

Clark smirked as he cupped her head gently, his thumb tracing the apple of her perfect cheek. Oh yes, she was absolutely perfect.

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[glowinthedarkjellyfish]

I’ve got some ideas for future fic series that are in my drafts but completed yet so whatever you like most don’t be shy to vote so Ik what to prioritize alongside the gymnast!daughter batfam series ☺️.

I already have ships planned for each of the fic!series but don’t want to spoil it but all of them are x different characters so they aren’t repetitive

[thatrandomidiot182]

Glimpse of Another Life

Variant! Invincible/Mark Grayson × Kryptonian! Reader

Warnings. minor angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of death/murder.

A/N. This is verrry dialogue centric, and written during 3am spurts of inspiration, so it's not the greatest, but I do like how it ended up. I hope yall like it as well! P.s. This is not referencing any of the canon Mark variants, but it can be seen as viltrumite Mark if you want! I just had this idea and wanted to share bc pathetic Mark has me DOWN BAD 😫

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

"I thought I'd find you here."

The statement sends a wave of panic down your spine, breaking the peaceful silence you had tried so desperately to find. Your body springs up, instantly uncurling from the fetal position you had been floating in as you tense, preparing to face the source.

"You always came up here after a rough day."

God you wish he'd just shut up.

You never thought you'd feel like this, but after everything that's happened these last twenty-four hours, all you wanted to do was escape that damn voice.

It's why you had fled the planets atmosphere in the first place. Speeding off to curl up in your hiding place next to the sun as soon as things had died down.

It was the one place you knew you could avoid Mark— or at least, your Mark.

It was the one place you could escape the sound of his voice spitting words he'd never say.

"You look exactly the same... You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

He whispers your name like a prayer, and it sends a violent wave of nausea rolling through your stomach.

Just yesterday it would have brought you an embarrassing amount of glee to hear his voice calling out to you in such a tone.

The teasing lilt and deep, raspy pitch would normally send a wave of comfort over your tensed figure, instantly quelling your fear... Mark always did have the innate ability to shatter your defenses. Even with something as simple and small as a laugh.

"Please. I'm not here to hurt you. I'd never hurt you, I just... I needed to see you again. It's the only reason I came here."

His voice trembles, pitch heightened as he begs, "Please let me see you."

Your body trembles as you feel his presence drawing closer. Whether it was with fear, rage or exhaustion, you don't know. Maybe a sick combination of all three...

"I'm not that person..."

It was the only thing you could think to say in the moment, and your enhanced hearing allows you to hear the stutter in his breath all too clearly...

Along with his heartbeat, which was beating almost as fast as yours.

"I know."

His voice is small, defeated. As you finally turn to face him, body coiled and tensed for a fight, you find yourself freezing at the sight– because this Mark was different.

His face was stronger, more defined. All chisled cheeks and sharp jawline, no trace of the leftover baby fat you loved to squish when he was being too cocky.

Prominent eyebags and traces of a five o-clock shadow age him significantly. Although, taking into account the scars that littered his face and hands and the pure size of him, it was safe to assume he was a bit older.

As your gazes finally meet, you find yourself hesitating at the amount of pain and fondness his eyes held.

That hesitation lasted for only a moment, because as soon as your brain processed the full image of this Mark, you froze.

There are quite a few reasons you feel as though you should be afraid of him, but none of them were what set you off.

It wasn't the suit, which was, to your horror, the classic Viltrumite uniform that you had seen on the previous visits from the race.

It wasn't the length of his hair, which was only slightly shorter than your Marks' was and added to the aura of stern maturity he carried.

It wasn't even the broad expanse of his shoulders, that easily beat your Mark's in comparison, that caused you to freeze in such fear.

It was because of how much he looked like his father.

From the slope of his shoulders to the cinch of his waist, even down to the swell of his thighs, this Mark was undeniably his fathers son.

You'd never thought that Mark had looked like Nolan as much as everyone said he did, but seeing what could be– what is, this other Mark... One who is far from the slender, goofy, childhood best friend of yours that can't build huge muscles if his life depended on it...

Suddenly made you grateful that Debbie's genes had put up such a fight.

Because even as you see Nolan in the mass of his muscles, and the stance that takes up as much space as possible while simultaneously exuding danger and strength– You can still see the remnants of his humanity in the shape of his eyes and curve of his lips. In the slope of his nose and the brown of his iris, you see traces of one of the greatest women you've ever known.

Which is the only reason you haven't moved to attack.

Because this Mark was different. Not just from your Mark, but from all the other Mark's who you had fought (and killed) throughout the past few hours.

Whereas those Marks were all varying in size and stature, their eyes had all held the same sinister glint.

They all shared the same sick inclination to violence and pride, never hesitating to attack first, with a stupid, egoistic whip and strength that rivaled your own.

He didn't.

Despite his size, his posture was carefully submissive, hands splayed open before your eyes in a show of innocence and vulnerability.

His eyes were gentle and tired, rather than obsessive and manic as the others had been.

Still, despite his seemingly unviolent nature, you don't know why you never attacked him.

Maybe it was the desperate hope to find another Mark that was good, or at least, not as bad as all the others.

Maybe it was the overwhelming exhaustion that had numbed your mind since you were first forced to kill a version of your best friend.

Or maybe it was because he somehow knew where to find you, when even your Mark had no idea about your solar absorption, that led you to where you are now.

Sat next to him in a cozy little crater on the moon, overlooking earth as he recalls your alternate life.

"We grew up together. Inseparable since the moment Nolan brought you home from the GDA after your little ship landed in the middle of New York." You note the peculiar use of Nolan's name, nodding along with his words as you reflect on your past with your own Mark.

"I used to be so jealous of you growing up. Unlike me, you had your powers since birth. Nolan always told me that it didn't matter how long you had your powers because when I got mine, I'd be stronger anways." He scoffed, "Fucker was always trying to pit us against each other..."

You tilted your head at that, confused by the notion, "He... never did that here." Your voice was hesitant, unsure if sharing the fact would comfort or further upset him.

Based on the way he smiled at the sound of your voice, you assume he wasn't too concerned with your actual words.

"That.. Makes me so happy to hear, actually." He laughs, breathless and without much humor, "I imagine we– You have a much better relationship with him then..." He trails off, glancing questioningly your way.

You pause, "With Nolan? Or..."

He huffs, leaning more into his elbows that are crossed over his bent knees as he responds, "Both, I suppose..." He gazes out at the expanse of space longingly, "I've thought about it a lot... What it could've been like if he never made us hate each other."

His grin falters, "But that didn't happen. Well, it did, just– not fast enough..." He stutters, and you watch nervously as his fists clench.

"We were at each other's throats our entire lives, and it only got worse when I finally got my powers– I think I was thirteen?" His body remains tense as he continues, "I used to see you as competition. Nolan always paid more attention to you. He took you with him on patrol, he trained you, he.... He made me feel like you were in the way of our relationship as father and son."

He scowls, "I felt like I had to fight for Nolans attention whenever you were around, and it made me hate you because you seemed to take it for granted. You were never enthusiastic about spending time with him, you even seemed to avoid it, and it pissed me off to see you taking advantage of it when I had to beg for crumbs of his approval." He grit his teeth, shuffling ridgedly and you instinctively lean further away at his agitation.

His head snaps your way, and your heart lurches in your throat, wide eyes meeting his as he softens under your flighty stare.

"That's exactly what he planned..." He trails off, head turning away as his body slumps, agitation fizziling out at the sight of your fear. "He wanted me to hate you, so that I would eventually have the will to... eliminate you when the time came to conquer earth. He-He knew that you were the only thing that could pose a threat to our takeover." You both winced at the wording.

"It wasn't until junior prom that I actually opened my eyes..." He laughed sadly.

"Mom made us go together, seeing as neither of us were very popular and tried to use that as an excuse not to go..." He smiled with a wistful sigh, "I'm glad she did. It... ended up being the best night of my life." Your heart clentched at the sight of his crooked smile. His eyes were glazed and reflected the light of the stars in a way that had your breath hitching all too familiarly.

He laughs again, eyes crinkling with affection, "I still remember how awkward you looked in your cute little outfit." His voice took on a teasing lilt as he glanced at you, "Standing at the top of the stairs all grumpy because mom wanted a picture..." He leaned back to lean on his hands with a laugh, "I remember standing there like an idiot. Gaping like a fish because, all of a sudden, you were more than the annoying kid who took my dad from me... You were just... A normal teenager... Who also happened to be the prettiest person I'd ever seen." Your cheeks flushed, and despite knowing he's not actually talking about you... you couldn't help but let yourself indulge in the compliment that your Mark had never even come close to speaking.

"You know, I beat myself up the entire car ride to the school. It was so awkward and it made me realize that despite my dad's interference... You never hated me."

Your eyes are wide and curious as you listen. His voice held so much fondness for this other version of you, it was shocking to imagine him ever hating her.

"I felt like the worst person alive when I realized that despite how awful I was to you, you never held it against me. Guess it's because you knew that I didn't know who my dad actually was..." his voice trailed off, and you could sense the rising anger simmering in his eyes.

"Who knew all it took for you guys to get along was teenage hormones and the dougie..."

Your absentminded comment snaps him out of his haze, drawing his attention as a bewildered stare graces his features.

"I mean, a sixteen year rivalry ended in one night! Must've been some prom..." You smile as you finally get a laugh out of him, quietly reveling in the sound.

"Yeah. It sure was." He smirks, eyes twinkling with a familiar mischief, "You can dance a mean cupid shuffle."

You burst into laughter, tossing your head back with a grin, "Tell me, does you having two left feet translate to every universe?"

He grins back, "Well, yeah– but you said it was cute!"

Your laughter rings in the quiet expanse of space, heard only thanks to the superior senses of your respective alien biologies.

In your humorous fit, you fail to realize how close you began to lean towards Mark until the warmth of his bicep met your own.

Your laughs dwindle at his sudden silence, head tilting to eye him as you grow concerned.

You were met with a gentle, fond smile that set your heart ablaze. His eyes were soft, cheeks pink and dimpled as he stared at you reverently.

You stayed quiet, allowing yourself the moment to soak in his undivided adoration, silently preening under his gaze.

It wasn't until he reached a hand up to brush against your cheek that you snapped out of your stupor. Hesitantly pulling away as you reprimand yourself for getting swept away.

After all, this isn't your Mark.

This isn't your best friend (and nothing more).

Your Mark would never willingly speak so adoringly of you.

Your Mark would never caress you so softly, as if you were something to be worshipped.

Your Mark just didn't love you like you loved him.

It was cruel and unfair to lean into the embrace of this Mark and take advantage of his feelings because at the end of the day, you are not the you he fell in love with.

Your thoughts drive you to break the silence with a sharp sigh, pointedly ignoring his hurt stare as he slowly lowers his hand back to his side.

"Why are you here, Mark?"

He stares at you with a furrowed brow, "I told you, I wanted to see–"

"No, I mean–" You take a breath, gesturing to the earth before you half-heartedly, "Why did you come here with them, if you don't want to conquer our world like they do?"

He takes longer to answer you this time, and you began to worry about his answer.

"It was the only way to see you again." His voice is shaky, the warmth from your previous conversation gone as he glares out at the planet. "Angstrom promised that if I helped him get revenge, he'd let me see you– have you." He pauses, and you tense at the implication of his words.

He sighs, wincing at your jumpiness as he rushes to reassure you, "I'm not here to be the bad guy. I don't want to conquer this earth, I could care less about this Mark! I just– I needed to see you alive. T-To know that you're happy and healthy here... and to make sure it stays that way." His last words are spoken so softly they were almost whispered, and you hesitate to believe them for the sole reason you think you might have hallucinated them.

Nonetheless, you stay silent at the revelation, allowing yourself the time to properly digest your entire encounter thus far.

Your head is far more clouded than when you originally came up here after Mark had disappeared with Eve. After your heart could no longer take killing him again and again...

You don't know what you're supposed to do anymore...

You want to cry, but you can't because you know the Mark next to you will want to comfort you, and the worst part is that you'd allow it.

You want to go back down and pummel every varient you come across just to let out the frustration you feel, but you won't. Not after discovering the possibility that they're not all bad.

So what can you do? What should you do?

What will you do?

What you always do–

"Well, you said you weren't here to be the bad guy, right?"

You slowly rise from your seated position, looming over Mark with a steeled gaze.

Despite your seriousness, you can't help the quirk of your lips at the intense way he nods his head. You shoulders stiffen as you turn back towards earth resolutely, sparing him one last glance before taking off.

"Prove it."

–Save your planet.

[gatorbites-imagines]

“Viltrumites are actually aliens Mark (cuz I love the weird, body horror, and oviposition :3c)”

Me: (leans forward in chair, putting hands together) yes, please tell more of this Mark that includes weird, body horror and especially oviposition 🙏

I honestly would love to hear how Mark treats normal Reader and their eggs. Would Mark being the one to carry them or Reader? 🤔

“Viltrumites are actually aliens” Mark Grayson 

Honestly, this au only comes from me being a fiend who likes monsters. This has no good solid background yet, its just me being annoying. Its also mostly me rambling about oviposition... 

So like, aliens, huh?  

Im always a big sucker for aliens who take a human form to fit in, so imagine that viltrumites are like that. Their true forms are hard to comprehend and understand, so they take a human-like shape to be easier to perceive. 

Mark would have a more solid human form compared to other viltrumites because of his mom. Other viltrumites would be just kinda, blank to look at, kinda like dolls with no pores or inperfections. 

Marks less human attributes start showing after he gains his powers. Like him losing all his teeth at once, only to be replaced with a new pair that just... bursts out through his gums. They look the exact same but... they feel different. 

His tongue becomes a lot looser, bendable and can extend or shrink.  

His joints become extremely loose, like he can stretch his limbs beyond human levels, and sometimes it just looks like he doesnt have bones inside, just liquid. Flexible beyond belief, and doesnt technically need to breathe air. 

Mark realizes he doesnt need to eat or drink to survive, he has no idea what he actually runs on but he keeps going, he also keeps eating and drinking for comfort. 

Mark realizing he can rip himself open, survive and just watch his guts move about. His insides move around for comfort and safety, like, all his vital parts crawl up into his ribcage during fights.  

Viltrumites having more than one heart, but they arent perceivable by human standards, and they form a “heart” to fit the body standard they take. 

Marks eyes reflecting light like animals when you take pictures with flash on.  

Now, on to the oviposition. 

Actual alien viltrumites producing eggs to breed and further their species. Technically they could breed in a more human way, but their bodies much prefer eggs, both laying and carrying. 

Mark carries an “egg-sack” in his abdomen, kinda like a uterus. It doesn't really do anything unless his body is like “yo, mate, mates ready, mates fertile, go go go! Eggs! EGGS!!” and then start producing as quickly as possible because of their biology wanting to breed as much as possible. 

Mark starts having cramps, hes not really sure what it is in the beginning, maybe he just thinks hes stressed or constipated, until he wakes up and god fuck his dick is aching. It doesnt outright hurt but its uncomfortable, and so so wet. 

He would og into something like a heat or a rut, but its not completely like omegaverse. Instead, he starts sweating, salivating, his insides feel looser, his skin doesnt fit the same. His jaw feels uneven, he bites hard into his pillow cuz his jaws just clamp shut like an alligator.  

Mark would have no idea why hes aching but so fucking horny, his dick feels so heavy and his balls ache. Before he knows it, hes stumbled and flown to where the reader is staying, feeling like a salivating wolf. 

Actual alien vilrumite Mark tumbling in through the window, crumbling onto the floor and just immediately humping the carpet cuz the whole room smells like mate. His abdomen hurts even more, and it feels kind alike he has to pee but its so mcuh heavier and bigger. 

Insert reader being like, “what the hell is going on mark?”, and helping him up. The crotch of his shorts is just soaked, and when they finally get them wrestled down to check whats up, reader notices how flushed and wet Marks cock is. 

His slit looks raw and open, like, wide enough that you could push a finger inside and wiggle is about. Mark just starts rubbing his face into readers shoulder, drooling and whimpering, begging for the reader to take his ovum, cuz somehow his animal brain knows what it is. 

Readers not gonna let him just do whatever, cuz hes really out of it, so it just ends up with them on the bed, both sitting on their knees, marks back against the readers chest. And reader is just... kinda milking his dick into some container of some kind. 

The eggs are orbs, a bit bigger than a marble. Theyre solid but has a squishiness to them when you press on them. They are a cloudy white in color, and Marks cum is extra sticky when hes like this.  

The entire time, Mark is crying, both because it feels good, but also because hes so heartbroken that you won't take his ovum. He made them just for you, why won't you take them? Wasnt he so good for you? There are so many, there must be some that are good enough for you to take them, right? 

Later, you guys figure out through a lot of experimentation, that Mark starts producing “ovum” when you are “extra fertile”. It takes a while to figure out when this is, but apparently its if you jerk off and dont wash the evidence off, cuz the scent makes Marks biology go “oh, our mate must be ready for our clutch”. 

I think you guys also can change where the eggs go, like, if you top and Mark bottoms, then his body starts realizing “hey, we arent planting eggs anywhere, our mate is trying to inseminate ours” and then starts keeping them in his egg sack. Youd have to dock him to fertilize them though. 

Hes always losing control of his more human shape when this goes on, and you can mostly tell because he starts panting with his tongue out, and its long enough to lick his own chest without him even trying.

Always ends up with some really deep tongue kissing, cuz he ends up losing control of his tongue.

He might also just get extra worked up during spring, mostly cuz his body is going “oh, everyone else is fucking and breeding, we should too” 

He also just gets more red, like, hes sweating, flushed like hes been working out, but his sweat doesnt smell bad. Mark would get more clingy too, snuffling at the readers armpits, or anywhere else his sweat is strong, cuz thats where the readers scent is concentrated.  

[hattersrabbit]

GOODNESS INCARNATE

yandere avengers x kryptonian! reader | sfw

CW! male reader, can be seen as either platonic or romantic, toxic behavior, overprotective avengers, obsessive behavior, golden retriever! reader, ambiguous ending

Summary! at some point something fell from earth and crashed into earth. A new hero rises up in the city of Metropolis and catches the eye of Earth’s Mightiest Defenders, and it ends up getting a bit too far.

✎ᝰ.don’t ask about the timeline or anything call it an au where endgame doesn’t happen :D

next | series

˖꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷

Somewhere in Kansas a space shuttle fell to earth. It was never found, but the couple said to be incapable of having children had a child, and a dog too.

A child that was above from normal. That being you. An alien from the planet Krypton that had died. You and your dog, Krypto being the only one of your kind.

The last surviving Kryptonians.

Your new parents were a joy to have. You loved them and they raised you very protectively, and in return you cared for them.

With your strength, and Krypto you helped save your city Metropolis for the first time. The massive billionaire Lex Luthor caused massive damage and almost killed a bunch of people if not for you.

Dressed in blue and red you were a symbol of hope. The S across your chest being a family crest. One of the last of your parents own existence.

The people loved you, and you find the world was interested in you. A hero that came out of nowhere.

And certainly you were loved. Nick Fury couldn’t deny the need to get you on the team of train wrecks.

In fact, it could all be seen all the way to a Spider Boy who could only look at the footage in awe. The hero was someone who Peter Parker aimed to be.

Beside him was Wanda, the Scarlet Witch who looked on with awe in her eyes as well. As a woman who’s gone after bad thing after bad thing she couldn’t help but want goodness.

You were goodness. She could feel it, even if it was through a video.

Tony was apprehensive but even so he never seen someone so good. It was like you never faced horror ever. Your kindness and not a hint of showing off, or playing around while fighting.

Determination.

Captain America; Steve Rogers saw himself in you. Goodness that he could never achieve. One that smiled despite it all, while somberness swallowed him into a boastful mouth.

Bucky would have to agree. He was smiling once back then, and you were literal sunshine. A smile on those lips with such natural strength, and treating civilians with such kindness.

Thor found you adorable, and could feel that you were worthy of his hammer. Even through videos of you he felt like you were worthy. Absolutely beautiful he also thought. What man could fly through the air so gracefully like that. Without a care, and just as quick.

Natasha and Clint admired you. Albeit maybe it was a sense of something they never got. A man who hadn’t ever killed in his life, and was smiling. A sense of light they never got, and there you were.

Sunshine for them to bask themselves in.

Bruce felt wary but you were strong. No anger seemed to be in your body. Surely yes you seemed angry at Lex Luthor but that was for obvious reasons. You weren’t always angry like him. Angry only when necessary, unlike him.

Control of yourself is what you had.

A semblance of this world is that it was corrupt. A source of true good like you, and while you weren’t of them you believed in good.

Good in human beings.

The avengers knew better.

So when you’re recruited they aimed to make sure you’d ease into that reality. When offered the chance you jumped at it.

Imagine the surprise when Krypto arrived by your side. The avengers were no less taken aback and flustered.

You smiled big and wide. Nothing to hide and kind to them all.

Unbeknownst to you the immediate thought of you changed. A being that was good and needed to be protected. This group had been through terrible things, and it brought them down.

Made them turn darker.

Wanda knew that better than anyone.

Bucky hated himself for it.

Peter remembered the days when people knew of him, and how in those last moments back then he almost committed true murder.

They hid it well.

Steve would greet you with open arms and a welcoming smile, “Welcome to the team!” He would pat you on the shoulder. He would blink when it felt like metal.

You would laugh brightly, and saying a lot of people said that. Although it wasn’t like you were gonna say you were an alien. Not yet anyway.

They would find out anyway. Thanking Wanda for that, for she read your mind.

Imagine the wonder Peter had when he talked to you. Over the years now that he was Spider-Man he had lost his once happy attitude in being a hero.

You a little older than him was still hopeful, and hadn’t started as a teenager. You were hopeful and Peter couldn’t help but admire you. That smile; the one he lost and you still had it.

You can’t blame him when he stole one of your notebooks. The pages had tons of notes of your perceived faults and self-hatred. Don’t blame him when he shows Steve and Tony.

Don’t mind the confusion when the entire team is praising you more than usual. Any time you lift something instead of the Hulk Bruce smiles. His anger dismissed and he’s praising you despite his shy nature.

Don’t be surprised when you get hurt and spit blood that you get tested by the scientist. Tony even going as far as tweaking your suit to make sure you’re more protected. It was sweet, but useless venture to say you didn’t need it.

Of course you needed it. You were young, and even had fewer experience than Peter. You had no idea what you were talking about. Bruce and Tony were older.

They knew better, and told you that.

Naively, you shrugged it off. Krypto would only tilt his head at the them, and albeit he became much more close to you.

Wanda didn’t seem to like the change.

Once or twice Krypto would stare at her. ‘Try it.’ The dog was protective and a nuisance. He could feel the darkness. The woman was more susceptible to the darkness. The obsession of getting you to herself.

The others so far, Bruce and Tony already got hands on you when you got injured. Although never really seemed to look into your mind. What if you got brain damage?

She could fix it. Her magic would change it from affecting you. Peter had too much time with you. She was more your age, so you should be with her.

In a way you reminded her of Vision. Kind and understanding. Normalcy that she begged for and clung to.

Maybe she could change the dog but you would notice. It would make you sad, and she didn’t want that. Surely she was wanting you to herself, but your happiness also mattered.

She would be careful.

Get Krypto’s trust was her plan.

The two who have killed before were floored with the kindness. With the protectiveness you gave them.

In act of almost being killed you rang over them with your huge size and protecting them in the blast. Your scream of pain was loud in their ears.

Thor heard it loud and clear. The enemy was on the floor in seconds. Too brutal for normal, and you questioned Thor.

The god gave an excuse that you completely fell for. Too sweet and naive for this world. A sheltered kid in the Midwest fields, with protective parents.

Still too unforgiving of this horrible world.

Thor couldn’t tell you that he almost aimed to kill the attacker.

Natasha would share a look with him.

They knew. Murder was out of the question, but when you screamed like that they knew that maybe maiming was the move. Clint would talk to you as the two discussed what to do with the assailant.

Hearing the news Bucky would want to check over your wounds. There were none but it didn't stop him from getting those mental fingers on your bare skin.

You would shiver. Cold against your warm skin. Shining like the sun Bucky would think. Steve would look too.

A body like his own and invincible to harm.

At least they thought.

Kryptonite was horrible. Lex Luthor's laugh haunted them. You on the floor and holding your chest. Blood flowing from your mouth and a bullet in your chest.

Bruce was terrified.

Peter and Wanda beside themselves.

And so when you awake from your slumber don't ask about the disappearance of Lex Luthor. Don't ask why you can't hear his distinct heat beat.

Don't ask your still on bed rest, and Krypto is so much more hostile towards everyone now. Wary of Wanda and her glares to your dog.

Don't ask why Bruce's lingering touch stayed.

Don't ask why your mind seemed played with.

Don't bother with the protective members who've been known to kill before to be so close to you.

Don’t tell Peter to leave your side. Don't ask Steve to stop defending your city, Metropolis.

All the avengers ask of you is to keep that smile on your face no matter how confused you are.

To keep there goodness, and to never be corrupted.

To be good.

[invincibledc]

“Lucky bastard”

(YJ version) Robin/Nightwing X Super!Reader

→Genre: Fluff

“Woah! I didn’t know you can cook a 5 star meal!” Wally said as he blitz over to check out the steak you made with asparagus. You only shrugged as you sit the place down, Wally immediately gobbled it up. Ending with him with a bloated belly filled with a good hot meal.

Robin walks in the kitchen to see you cleaning where you cooked as Wally looked at his best friend. “Dude! Sups over here can cook a mean dish. You gotta try their steak” he says. Robin smiled, “Aw man..wish I had my own plate when I came earlier..”

You rolled your eyes as you opened the microwave to pull out an extra plate of what Wally had. “I heard your stomach growling birdy. Eat up.” You put the plate gently on the counter as robin got a knife and fork to eat it. As he took the first bite, he went into flavor town as he couldn’t believe you made this. “Woah..”

“I know right dude! It’s amazing..you don’t mind if I take a small piece rig—” “NO BACK OFF WALLY!” Robin immediately covered his plate with his body. Eyes furrowed down, Wally backed away shock. “Woah man..didn’t know you were that hungry.” And with that, Wally sped off. Leaving you and Robin alone, you laughed at the speedster speeding away as Robin went ham mode on the steak.

Having steak juice running from his mouth made you cringe. You grabbed a paper towel as you inched towards him, wiping the juices off his mouth and side of his lips. You felt Robin tense with hearing his heart rate go up. The boy wonder slowly turns his head at you, you tried to ignore the teen’s stare as you wiped the last mess on his lips. Throwing away the paper towel, Robin caught your attention when he grabbed your wrist gently.

“Whoever marries you in the future is one lucky bastard.” He says with a smile, he then goes back to eating the steak and asparagus. You only laughed, walking out the kitchen as the boy wonder feed himself to what he feel inlove with.

Years later….

Dick was in his casual clothes as he looked outside the window, showing the beautiful night sky. He smiled, looking down at his left hand. That beautiful ring that shows off who he belongs to, that moment was ruined when his stomach growled. Dick groaned, sitting down in his bed as he wondered when dinner will be done.

But the gods have answered when your voice ran through the apartment

“DICK!! Dinner is done, I can hear that monster of your stomach calling for food!” You yelled, ending it with that beautiful laugh of yours. Dick’s eyes widened, getting up from the bed and running down the hall to the kitchen. There you were with an apron as Hailey barked seeing her human dad. “Ah it’s my favorite…the one that made me fall in love with you.” He pointed to the plate you held out to him.

“Steak and asparagus.” You both said, laughing before dick kissed you sweetly on your lips. You had to move the plate from you as dick then started to hungrily kiss you, having one hand on your lower back. Pushing your body towards him more. You had to break the kiss as dick laid his head on your shoulder.

“Cmon let’s eat, dick..” you said smiling, dick hummed. Smiling with a nod of his own he took his plate while you took yours.

He sure is a lucky bastard for life.

[annlyticalarchive]

CHAPTER NINE: The Date, the Dog, and the Domain

”You will be different, sometimes you’ll feel like an outcast, but you’ll never be alone”

Mark Grayson X Kryptonian/Clark Kent! Reader

Prologue|Chapter Eight|Chapter Nine (Here)| Chapter Ten

w/c: 5.6k

a/n: two rewrites done and still not incredibly happy with it, but it’s mainly just the two goobers so I’m content with it

“Superwoman!”

You loved Lois. You really did. She was one of your best friends.

But if you heard—

“Lois Lane, I’d like to interview you for the Daily Planet!” And speak of the devil, and she’ll appear.

You pushed through the crowd that had gathered around you in the park, phones out and filming you and the grounded plane behind you.

“I’m sorry, no comment,” you said with your most polite smile, beginning to hover just out of reach.

“Wait—” Lois started, but you were already gone.

By the fifth time it happened that morning, you were starting to feel genuinely sorry for her.

Well right up until she snapped a cuff on your wrist and then the other on hers.

“I’m getting—” She had to pause, doubled over with one hand on her knees, breathless. “—an interview.”

“Miss Lane…” you sighed, looking at the ridiculous pair of handcuffs connecting you. With your strength, you could break them easily. But you knew that even you couldn’t run from Lois when she wanted something. So, you might as well just give her the exclusive.

“Alright,” you muttered, resigned. You gently scooped her up and took off, heading straight for the rooftop of the Daily Planet.

You touched down lightly, setting Lois on her feet as she fumbled to pull out her recorder with her one free hand, her dominant one now locked to yours.

“Lois Lane, reporter for the Daily Planet,” she said, still catching her breath. “And I have some questions for you.”

“That much is clear.” You folded your arms as best as you could with a reporter attached to one of them. “You’ve been trying to catch me for days.”

“Hah, well—” Lois gave a breathless chuckle, shaking her head before composing herself. “Superwoman, would you be willing to answer a few questions for the people?”

“The people deserve truth and transparency,” you said, nodding. Her face lit up, and guilt twisted in your chest. It didn’t feel great, keeping your secret from her.

“Okay,” she said eagerly. “Who are you?”

“You’ve named me Superwoman. I’ve been told it suits me.” You smiled.

“Yeah, I didn’t think I’d get your identity that easy,” she muttered, shifting gears. “Where are you from?”

“I’m not entirely sure. Space?” you said, then clarified with a shrug, “But I was raised on Earth.”

She blinked. “Okay… so, alien.”

“Technically,” you nodded. “But Earth is my home.”

She nodded thoughtfully and moved on. “What can you do?”

“I’m not entirely sure of the full extent yet,” you said with a shrug. “I’m still figuring it out. Strength, flight, speed, durability, that sort of thing.”

She glanced at your still-linked wrists, recorder still running. “Are you a member of any hero organization? Any government contract?”

“No,” you said firmly. “I don’t take orders. I don’t want someone telling me who I can and cannot save.”

Lois nodded slowly, thoughtful. “Then who holds you accountable?”

That made you pause.

You looked at her, really looked, and said quietly, “I do.”

She blinked, thrown off for a beat. But then she nodded again, much smaller, more personal this time. “Okay.”

“I just want to help,” you added. “That’s all.”

She exhaled. “Okay. One more, what drives you to help?”

After a beat, you answered quietly, “Because I can. And I think if you can help, you should.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. She just studied you, softly and genuinely, like maybe she wasn’t just seeing the cape anymore.

Then, “That’s a good answer.”

You gave her a small smile. “It’s the truth.”

Lois reached into her bag and pulled out a tiny key, unlocking the cuffs with a smug little flourish. “Thanks for the exclusive, Superwoman.”

“Anytime, Miss Lane.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“You’re overthinking this,” Jimmy said from the couch, watching as you paced back and forth, two outfits in hand.

“I just—what do you think?” you asked, finally stopping and holding both options up to your chest.

“Green. The black’s too fancy,” he replied, propping his chin up with his palm.

“Thanks!” you said with relief, darting off to the shared bathroom.

As you slipped the green blouse over your head, Jimmy called through the closed door, “You do realize it’s just a coffee date, right? Mark’s not taking you to a five-star rooftop restaurant.”

“I know, but—” You paused, adjusting the waistband of your pants. “I’ve never really been on a proper date. I mean, there was Lana back in Smallville, but that wasn’t… this is different. Mark is different. I want this to be serious.”

“Kansas,” Jimmy groaned just as you stepped out of the bathroom, straightening your glasses with one hand.

He got up and placed both hands on your shoulders. “You’ve been pining for him for how long? You both mutually asked each other out after dinner with his family. You’ve got this. There’s literally nothing to worry about.”

You sighed, then nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ve got this.”

“And if you don’t, you’ve got me and Lois to cry on,” Jimmy added casually as you slung your bag over your shoulder.

You froze mid-step and shot him a glare.

“But you’ve got this! You do!” he rushed to say, nudging you toward the door. “Now go get him, farm girl!”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the grin tugging at the corner of your mouth as you stepped outside, the door clicking shut behind you.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The cozy cafe Mark picked was small and quiet, tucked between a bookstore and a florist.

The kind of place with real cups and mugs, soft indie music playing just loud enough to fill the silence, and walls lined with artwork painted by local artists with ‘For Sale’ stickers underneath them.

You spotted him through the front window before he saw you. He was already seated, nervously tapping his fingers on the table, a second mug waiting across from him.

He looked up just as you opened the door.

And his smile, soft and wide, made something warm bloom in your chest.

“Hey,” he said, standing a little too fast and bumping the table. “Sorry— hi. You look great.”

You smiled as you walked over, “You look nice too.”

He held your chair out without thinking, and you caught yourself grinning again as you sat.

“I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I?” you asked nervously as he slid back into his seat. “I know we said the time, but I wasn’t sure if—”

“It’s fine,” Mark said, cutting you off with a gentle laugh. “I know you run on ‘on time is late’ logic, but seriously, you’re fine.”

The waitress came over to take your orders, two coffees and a small plate of assorted pastries, had you two pay, then left you to it.

You both settled in, and conversation flowed easily. At first it was a little awkward, at least for you. Stumbling over your words and  not knowing how ‘date talk’ works. Mark was sweet though, which calmed most your nerves.

“Wait, you played baseball?” Mark asked, grinning as he leaned forward. “Were you any good?”

“Eh,” you shrugged with a grimace. “Better on field than bat, I was scared of it. But I liked it. Small town league, nothing serious. My Pa was the assistant coach.”

Mark laughed. “Okay, now I have to know, what position?”

“Outfielder.”

“That tracks,” he said with a smirk.

You sipped your coffee. “Let me guess, you were the home run king?”

“Pfft, not even close,” he chuckled. “I was okay, I remember I had one good home run, but other than that I was the strike out king. I think I peaked at neighborhood T-ball.”

You both laughed, the kind that warmed your ribs and made the coffee taste just a little sweeter.

“I’ve been reading some of my dad’s books,” Mark added. You vaguely remembered him mentioning them recently in passing, something about old adventures turned fiction.

“Oh yeah?”

“They seem like novels, but they’re based on him. His experiences. And I was thinking… maybe he ran into someone like you. One of you, I guess,” he said. “We could read them together, if you’d like?”

His voice was softer then, careful. You couldn’t tell if it was because of the subject or because it was you he was offering this to.

Before you could answer, your phone started to ring.

“I’m—ugh, I’m so sorry. Let me just—” you started as you pulled it from your bag, already fumbling to silence it. But your fingers paused when you saw the caller ID.

Ma.

Mark, who had been watching, glanced at the screen and gave you an easy smile. “You should probably take that.”

“You sure?” you asked, already half-rising from your seat.

“It’s your mom,” he said, shaking his head. “Of course. Go.”

You mouthed a quick thank you as you stepped toward the café’s front windows, lifting the phone to your ear.

“Hi, Ma,” you greeted, trying to keep your voice light.

“Hey, baby. I’m sorry—you're not at work, right?” Her voice was warm, familiar, grounding. But there was a twinge to it. A tension. Enough to make your stomach knot.

“No, it’s my day off. I’m out with a friend,” you said, shaking your head even though she couldn’t see it.

“Oh, I don’t mean to be a bother, but…” She paused, and the slight crackle of the speaker only made your nerves worse. “Something crashed out in the fields. Your Pa said it looked like your ship.”

Your blood went cold.

Without a word, you speed-walked back to the table, phone still pressed to your ear. “I’ll— yeah, I’ll run over real quick. I’ll take care of it.”

Mark stood up as you approached, clearly concerned. “What’s wrong?” he asked as you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder in one fluid motion.

“Something crashed on our farm,” you said breathlessly. “I need to check it out.”

Mark didn’t hesitate. “I’m coming with you.”

“You don’t have to— really, it’s fine—”

“I want to,” he said, tone firm, brows knit with a worried frown.

You paused. Maybe you agreed because it was Mark, or maybe because deep down, you knew he could help.

You nodded.

Together, the two of you ducked into a nearby alley. A moment later, two streaks of color lifted into the sky, one red and blue, the other blue and yellow, as you flew fast toward Smallville.

𓈒 ⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The fields of the Kent farm were bathed in late afternoon light when the two you descended, boots hitting the dirt with a sharp thud. Mark landed a half-second later beside you, eyes scanning the rows of corn that bordered the property.

You made a beeline toward the porch. Swinging the door open and walking in quickly while Mark hesitated at the doorway.

“Ma? Pa?” You called in the main room.

Your parents rounded the corner from the kitchen, Ma took your forearms in her hands. Pa, while admittedly giving Mark an odd look, waved the boy in.

“We haven’t gotten close since your Pa got a look at it,” Ma explained as she gently turned you toward the back door. “We called you right after.”

You nodded and waved Mark along. Out back, a thin plume of fading smoke still curled into the sky, like a beacon in the middle of the fields.

“Sorry meeting Ma wasn’t under better circumstances,” you said, trying to joke as you walked. It was the wheat season, so the field was like golden grass. The impact trail was obvious, a long scorched scar across the earth.

Mark chuckled from a few steps behind. “Knowing me, it could’ve been worse.”

And then you saw it.

The ship came into full view, smaller than yours, but otherwise a carbon copy. It sat completely still. No hum. No glow. No movement.

Nothing.

Not until you stepped closer and reached out, your fingertips brushing the surface, despite Mark’s quiet, urgent, “Wait—”

A sharp hiss split the silence.

And then

white.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Mark ducked back just in time as a white blur exploded from the hatch, slamming into you and launching you across the field like a ragdoll.

He shouted your name, taking off after you without hesitation.

You hit the ground hard, skidding through dirt and grass as the blur gave chase. Before you could even fully stop, it hit you again, square in the chest with a solid enough thud that Mark could hear knock the wind from your lungs.

Mark didn’t think, instead he dove, arms outstretched, and managed to grab hold of something furry and thrashing. But it squirmed violently in his grip, let out a low growl, and launched itself off him with force strong enough to crack something in his ribs.

He barely caught his breath before it pinned him to the ground. His goggles flickered, vision momentarily blurry, until it cleared.

And then he realized what had him pinned was a dog.

A very angry dog.

White fur. Bared teeth. Piercing blue eyes.

Or rather, eyes that were blue until they weren’t. A glowing red hue started to burn through the irises, heat building behind its gaze.

“No!” your voice rang out across the field, slicing through the tension like lightning. The hound’s ears perked. Its head snapped toward you.

It kicked off Mark’s chest so hard that he doubled over with a wheeze, coughing, definitely bruised, maybe worse.

But when the hound barreled into you again, it didn’t attack.

It bounced.

Literally bounced.

Tail wagging. Tongue flopping. Eyes wide. It leapt up, licked your cheek, dropped to the ground, and bounced again like it hadn’t just tried to kill Mark seconds earlier.

“Mark!” you yelled, still a bit breathless, arms up in a loose shield as the creature practically climbed over you in excitement. “You okay?”

For a brief moment, he wanted to say something stupid like Not when you say my name like that, but all that came out was a dazed, “Yeah. I think so.”

He pushed himself up slowly, wincing. His ribs protested every movement.

You grunted, finally managing to shove the dog off. But instead of backing away, it latched onto your cape in its teeth and started tugging like it was playing tug-of-war.

If it wasn’t so shocking, Mark would find it endearing.

“Stop! Quit it!” you barked, trying to yank the fabric free, but the dog just wagged harder and dragged you several feet, toward the ship.

It let go only once you were directly in front of it.

Then, with a small huff, it bounded back into the pod and reemerged with something clutched in its jaws: a crystal, about the size of a hand.

The dog padded toward you, tail still wagging, and plopped the crystal into your lap with a satisfied little chuff before sitting down and staring at you, ears perked like it had done the best trick in the world.

Mark approached cautiously, only to stop as the dog lifted its head and gave a low, unmistakable growl, hackles bristling.

But then you made a sharp sound, one that Mark can easily see you using to get a farm animal’s attention.

And just like that, it settled again.

Mark crouched beside you, resting a hand gently on your shoulder as you stared down at the crystal.

“It’s a dog,” you breathed, glancing up at him. Your eyes were wide, disbelieving. “Alien dog. Are there any alien dogs in your dad’s books?”

“None that I’ve read,” Mark huffed, he was still working his way through him, but for some reason he doubted it’d be in there anyway. “You okay?”

You nodded, standing up and patting your chest, “Yeah, just got the air knocked outta me. Not used to that.”

Mark’s hand drifted from your shoulder, down your arm, to your hand that holds the crystal. “You sure?”

“I’m good, promise,” You turn to give him a reassuring smile, your cheeks flushed.

He watched as you hummed and stood up, the dog quickly gaining energy as it bounced around your feet.

“I’ve seen something like this before…” you murmured, staring down at the crystal. Then you looked to Mark, then back toward the house, and finally, toward the barn at the edge of the field. “C’mere.”

Mark followed you across the grass and through the creaking barn doors. Dust floated in the golden light filtering through the roofing. You walked past old equipment and a sun-faded tractor to a shape hidden beneath a thick tarp.

You grabbed the edge and pulled. Beneath it sat your pod.

���This is my ship,” you said, glancing back at him. “When the vision ended, I saw crystal things like this one, they slid back into the walls here.”

You stepped closer, fingers tracing the narrow seams in the pod’s inner casing outlines where similar crystals had once clicked perfectly into place.

“So you think they’re like… flash drives?” Mark asked, planting his hands on his hips. “Crystal flash drives. Man, I wish that was the weirdest thing I’ve seen from space.”

You made a breathy noise, like a laugh cut short as you tensed, and Mark was about to ask what was wrong until he heard it. A crackle.

Mark stiffened. So did the dog, ears snapping forward as it growled low in its throat.

Mark stepped forward, subtly shifting his stance now fully between you and the sound.

A familiar figure stood framed in the barn doorway, backlit by the setting sun. Scarred. Calm. Watching.

Director Cecil Stedman.

“You know,” he said, voice casual like he’d been here all afternoon, “I almost believed you when you said you didn’t want attention.”

His eye flicked from you to the pod, then to the dog.

“And maybe you don’t know this,” he continued, “but when a ship that matches the one you came down in, crashes down from a suspended orbit around the sun? That’s not exactly subtle.”

“I told you to stay the hell away,” Mark said, low and dangerous.

“And I told you we were watching,” Cecil replied with a sigh. “But now it seems like we’ve moved past requirements for watching.”

He looked back to you with growing irritation. “What have you done? What is that thing, and more importantly, what is happening in the Arctic?”

You stepped forward, voice cool and even despite the adrenaline humming in your blood.

“I’ll be honest and say, I don’t know. But what I do know?” you said. “You’re on private property, uninvited, Director.”

The dog growled, a low rumble vibrating through the whole barn.

Cecil’s brow lifted just slightly. The only sign he’d registered the threat.

He didn’t move.

Behind you, Mark took another step forward, now standing shoulder to shoulder with you.

“I know how this looks,” Cecil said after a beat, voice tight with frustration. “But a large unknown energy surge appeared in the Arctic Circle. The readings matched whatever that came down in.”

He gestured broadly to the dog at your feet.

“And I need to know,” he continued, eyes locking with yours, “if you’re the reason the the next invasion happens. Intentional or not.”

Mark’s expression darkened immediately.

“You serious right now?” he snapped, stepping forward, his fists clenched. “You show up unannounced, throw accusations around, and the first thing you do is threaten her?”

“Mark,” you said softly, placing a hand on his arm.

He didn’t look at you right away, but he stilled under your touch. You stepped around him, calm but firm as you faced Cecil directly.

“Look, if you’re genuinely that concerned,” you said evenly, “I’ll go check it out.”

Cecil’s eyes narrowed, scanning your face like he was trying to see through you. But after a pause, he gave a tight nod.

Without another word, he turned and walked back outside. A second later, he was gone, teleported back to whatever surveillance bunker he’d crawled out of.

Mark let out a slow breath as he stepped closer.

“You sure about this?” he asked, voice lower now, more concern than anger. Not that the anger had really faded, just taken a backseat. “You don’t owe him anything. You don’t owe them anything.”

You hesitated, your gaze drifting toward the ship, then to the dog, now curled lazily on the floor of the barn.

Then you looked back at him.

“I think these ships… They only activate for me,” you said softly. “Like they recognize me, or my DNA, or something.”

Mark frowned. “You think that’s why they’re showing up? Because of you?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But if they’re drawn to me, or if someone’s sending them, then I need to figure it out before someone else gets hurt. It’s my responsibility.”

He watched you for a second. You weren’t panicked. You weren’t scared. You were steady. Determined. And it made something tighten in his chest.

“Okay,” he said, exhaling. “Then I’m coming with you.”

You gave him a quick smile, bumping your shoulder against his. “Wouldn’t expect anything else.”

From the grass, the white dog let out a soft whine, tail thumping once against the dirt.

Mark raised an eyebrow. “So… are we bringing that thing too?”

“Of course we are,” you murmured, frowning like he was the one being weird. “We have to bring it.”

“We have to?” he echoed, eyebrows raised, hands settling on his hips.

“It came out of a pod,” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “We’re probably going to check out another pod. It’s a logical decision, Mark.”

“Obvious. Totally logical,” he muttered, raising both hands in mock surrender, fighting the small smile tugging at his mouth. You were already defending the furball like it was your little sibling. “Not like it knock both of us on our asses or anything.”

You ignored that, turning toward the barn with the dog at your heels, now practically prancing after you.

Back inside, your Ma and Pa looked about as surprised as Mark felt when the dog trotted in beside you like it’d always lived there. Your Ma blinked slowly, while your Pa muttered something about needing to redo the field.

You explained the situation, how there’s likely another crash, this one in the Arctic, and that you were going to check it out.

That you’d be careful. That you’d be back.

Your Ma hugged you.

But Mark?

He got a warning. A real, serious one.

“She’s strong, I know,” your Pa said lowly, hand firm on Mark’s shoulder. “But that doesn’t mean you don’t keep her safe. Understood?”

Mark nodded. “I will, sir. I promise.”

Outside, you lifted off first, the now late afternoon light catching in your hair as the wind rippled your cape. Mark followed a second later.

And sure enough, like it was the most natural thing in the world, the dog launched after you, legs kicking as it took to the air like it’d done it a hundred times.

Mark watched it for a moment, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Right,” he muttered, glancing over at you with a smirk. “Flying dog. Of course.”

You just grinned as the three of you soared north, toward cold winds and a glowing Arctic horizon.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“Okay, okay,” Mark said through laughter, turning to face you with his mask on. “But you have to admit, you need a mask.”

You frowned, shouting a little over the rush of wind. “But the glasses!”

“Not exactly a mask,” Mark called back, grinning behind the lenses.

“Then what are your lenses for, bug boy?” you countered, making finger goggles at him.

“To keep the wind out of my eyes!” he argued, mock-offended.

You opened your mouth to retort, probably something scathing and perfect, but the air cracked like a whip.

Sharp. Sudden. Wrong.

Both of you went silent mid-flight.

Then, ahead of you in the snow-blanketed distance, something began rising.

Slowly at first, then with increasing speed, like a spiraling tower unfolding from the depths of the Earth. But not a tower. Not really.

A cluster.

Spikes of translucent blue-white crystal burst upward, spinning, threading together like a frozen bloom.

“Holy shit,” Mark muttered beside you, barely audible over the wind.

And then, barking.

The dog rocketed ahead, a streak of white against white, leaving a flurry of disturbed snow in its wake as it zeroed in on the structure.

You and Mark followed.

The fortress loomed the closer you got. It wasn’t just tall, it was enormous. Alien in design. Each spire jagged but symmetrical, arranged with the kind of deliberate, quiet logic that felt, simply put, alien.

You felt it in your bones before your boots touched the snow.

You landed a few paces behind the dog, Mark thudding into the snow beside you. The cold bit at your face, but you barely noticed. Your eyes were on the structure.

There was a door, or something like one, embedded in the crystal. Seamless and opaque. No handle, no indentation. Like it didn’t want to be opened.

Until the dog trotted up to it.

It barked once.

Loud. Echoing.

The crystal responded with a low resonance, like a chime underwater. Then the door began slowly sink back into the snow.

You stared.

Mark, behind you, let out a low breath. “Okay… that’s new.”

You didn’t reply. You were already moving forward.

The dog trotted through the now-open threshold without hesitation. You followed, heart pounding, senses buzzing. Mark was close behind.

The inside was dim but glowing, lit from within by crystalline veins that pulsed faintly in the walls. The hallway, if it could even be called that, was high-ceilinged, made entirely of seamless crystal, and unnaturally quiet. Every single thing was made of the same crystal. No footsteps echoed. No wind howled through. Just silence.

Then, at the end of the corridor, the dog stopped in front of another formation.

This one wasn’t a door. It was a pedestal. In the middle of a circular room. And in it, one single slot, like the crystals you’d found in the pods belong in there.

Your breath caught.

Mark stepped up beside you, rubbing his arms for warmth, eyes locked on the glowing pedestal.

“Is this..?”

“Like the ones I have?” you murmured, barely above a whisper. “I think so.”

The dog sat beside the pedestal, tail thumping against the crystal floor, gaze fixed on you expectantly.

Mark looked to you again.

You swallowed and reached into your bag that you’d brought, fingers brushing against the crystal you’d taken from the pod.

You slotted it into the hollow.

There was a sound like a bell ringing underwater, and then

light.

Brilliant and golden, flaring out in every direction.

And when it faded, a figure stood before you.

A man.

The same one from your vision. Sharp-featured, robed in layers of red and black, a circlet on his head, his eyes solemn and steady even in flickering light.

You held your breath.

“Do you recognize him?” Mark asked, voice quiet beside you.

You could only nod. “From my vision.”

The hologram opened its mouth and began to speak.

But the language that came out the same one you couldn’t understand.

You stared, heart tightening.

Mark glanced at you. “Yeah. That is definitely not any that I’ve heard.”

You almost laughed, but didn’t. You were too still, too focused.

The man paused, a sigh passing over his expression as if even the recorded message could feel your confusion. He raised one hand and raised it facing you.

From the pedestal, another crystal dislodged and rose.

Cautiously, you reached out. As your fingers brushed it, a flicker of light bloomed in your vision, projected into your mind more than your eyes.

You saw letters, an alphabet. Complex. Elegant and sharp. Completely unfamiliar.

But then, the letters shifted.

They morphed. Bent. Aligned themselves into something you could understand.

English.

It was a translation key.

You blinked, stunned, as more characters slid into place, one by one, matching up with their English counterparts.

Beside you, Mark tilted his head. “Is it working?”

You let out a breath, half-relieved, half-annoyed. “Yeah. Kind of. It’s like the Rosetta Stone.”

“So… you’re gonna have to learn your message?”

You glanced at him, deadpan. “Apparently.”

He let out a low whistle. “Man. That’s one hell of a voicemail.”

Despite yourself, you smiled.

But it didn’t last long.

Because the hologram hadn’t stopped. He was still speaking, still trying to reach you. And now, with the translator forming around you, slowly translating his words in pieces.

Not full sentences. Not yet.

But fragments.

“...my daughter…”

“...survival…”

“...Krypto... safe…”

You sucked in a breath.

The dog whined softly, pressing its body closer to your side.

You looked up at the stranger, no, your father’s flickering image, your heart pounding in your chest, not from fear.

But from something heavier.

A grief you felt like you had no business feeling.

He was a stranger. A ghost. And still, somewhere in the echo of his voice, you felt small, like a child left behind.

Without another word, you reached out and pulled the crystal from its slot.

The image stuttered once then blinked out entirely.

Mark said your name softly behind you, but you didn’t wait.

You turned and walked out of the chamber, leaving the crystal where it was.

“Let’s go,” you said, voice even. “It’s probably late back home.”

Mark didn’t argue.

He followed without a word. The dog padded after him, quiet but alert, as though it could feel the tension you weren’t voicing.

The flight back to Kansas was silent. Wind rushing. Sun beginning to dip low behind you.

When you landed in front of the farmhouse, your smile was automatic.

Your parents greeted you with warm voices and concerned eyes, but you waved it off. You asked them to keep an eye on Krypto, if you’d read the slowly translating message correctly, that was his name, for a few days while you figured out if Jimmy’s lease allowed dogs.

They said yes without hesitation.

And still, Mark frowned.

It wasn’t until you landed on the roof of your apartment building in the low light of the evening that he finally spoke, arms crossed, his posture rigid and tone blunt.

“You gonna actually tell me what’s wrong? Or do I have to force it out of you?”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes with the heel of your palm. “It’s nothing. Promise. Just…”

You hesitated, voice softening into guilt.

“I’m sorry our date got ruined.”

Mark’s brow furrowed, confused.

“I get it if you don’t want any more hero craziness in your life,” you continued, avoiding his eyes. “You’ve already got so much on your plate, your dad, Viltrumites, the GDA. You don’t need me throwing in a dead planet and a dead father I can’t even understand and—”

Your voice cracked as the words rushed out in a ramble, messy and fast. “—and I feel selfish, even trying to pretend I could have something normal. Like a date. Like us. I shouldn’t have expected that. I shouldn't have dragged you into this—”

“Hey.”

Mark stepped forward, cutting you off with a hand on your arm.

You finally looked up.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he asked, voice gentler now despite the irritation in his expression. “Do you seriously think I don’t want to be here? With you?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but nothing came out.

Mark shook his head, stepping closer. “Yeah, I’ve got crap going on. You do too. And yeah, today got hijacked by… spaceship dogs and holographic dads and mysterious Fortress-of-Whatever in the Arctic.”

Despite yourself, a short laugh escaped your chest.

“But I’m not here because I want things to be easy,” he continued. “I’m here because it’s you. Because you make the hard stuff feel bearable. Even when you’re being stubborn and self-sacrificing like it’s a competitive sport.”

You blinked, caught off guard by how earnest he sounded.

“Also,” he added with a wry smile, “I don’t know if you know this, but I kinda like you.”

A breath of laughter slipped past your lips, shaky, quiet.

“You’re not mad?”

“I’m mad that you keep deciding how I feel,” he said gently. “But I’m not mad at you.”

You didn’t say anything. You just stepped forward, slipping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest.

Mark didn’t hesitate. He wrapped you up immediately, strong and steady, like he’d been waiting for the chance.

“…So,” he murmured, voice low and warm in your hair, “can I still count this as our first date?”

You tilted your head back just enough to look up at him.

“Yeah. But I’m paying for the next one.”

His grin tugged wider. “So there’s going to be a next one?”

“Of course. Here I thought you said you liked me,” you muttered, trying to pull away.

Emphasis on trying. He just held on tighter.

“Oh, I do,” he said, voice annoyingly smug now. “Which is why I’m not letting go until you say it back.”

You snorted. “Mark.”

“Say it.”

“I literally just said I’m paying for the next date—”

“That’s not the same and you know it.”

You groaned and dropped your forehead against his chest again. “Fine. I like you too. A lot. Happy now?”

He hummed, satisfied. “Very.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t pull away this time.

“…Wanna come in for a bit?” you asked, voice quieter. “I think we have leftover cake on the counter.”

Mark raised an eyebrow, smirk pulling at his lips. “Are we talking actual cake, or like..?”

You swatted his chest. “Actual cake, you perv.”

He grinned. “Still sounds great.”

And together, you made your way through the roof access door and downstairs.

[wordsofwhimsy]

EᗰᑭIᖇE Oᖴ TᗯO

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【Ａ/Ｎ】⦂ Thank you beautifulpersonsblog for the request! I’m not sure what type of personality you had in mind for the Kryptonian reader so I just ran with it. I hope you enjoy!

【ＰＡＩＲＩＮＧ】⦂ Sinister!Mark Grayson x Kryptonian!Reader

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】⦂ Violence, oppression

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】⦂ “My Piece” by Miguel

【ＳＹＮＯＰＳＩＳ】⦂ In Sinister Mark’s universe there is a Kryptonian who, for whatever reason, has taken up the mantel of being his partner in crime. The atrocities they commit together are unthinkable, and more than that—unstoppable.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

The night was quiet. The city below sprawled with lights and sporadic dots of burning fires as it trembled under the weight of tyranny. From your view on the balcony of Mark’s high-rise fortress, the world seemed so small. So fragile. The moon hung low in the sky, bathing everything in a silver glow. But to Mark, the world wasn’t bathed in light. It was bathed in control. And the woman standing next to him, gazing out at the city with silent intensity, was his greatest weapon.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Mark's voice broke the silence, though it wasn’t a compliment—it was simply an observation. He wasn’t one for pleasantries. His tone was firm, devoid of any tenderness, the way he always spoke. You were his ally, his tool—his lover? Of course. He’d be a fool not to make use of a body that sumptuous. The warmth though that typically existed between lovers was absent, replaced instead by a cold sense of purpose and obsession.

Your Kryptonian features caught the moonlight perfectly—sharp, angular, striking. A goddess among mortals, and Mark revealed in the idea of his possession of you. You were strength, beauty, grace—but above all a weapon to be unleashed on his command.

You turned to face him, your eyes narrowing slightly, not at the compliment, but at the context. You knew him well enough by now to understand his twisted nature. The way he operated.

"You don't need to flatter me, Mark," you said, voice low with a raw edge. The arrogance in your tone matched his. "If you need me to make a move, just say it."

He nodded, an almost imperceptible smirk pulling at his lips. "You’re such a good girl…”

Mark took a step toward you, eyes calculating, never once betraying any emotion that wasn't necessary. "I need you to do something for me. There’s a resistance—weak, disorganized, but disrespectful to my rule, quite frankly. I want them broken."

Your lips curled into a subtle smile. "You know exactly what I want," he continued, a lustrous tone to his words. "I want them to see what happens when they oppose us. I want them terrified."

You stepped closer, your eyes locking with his. There was a moment of silent understanding between you two—a recognition of power and mutual respect. Mark wasn't the type to get close to anyone, but with you, he was different. Not in a sentimental way, but in the way that a king might view his queen. Necessary. Useful. As beautiful and dangerous as a blade.

"You have no idea how good it feels to be used," you whispered, your voice dripping with dark satisfaction. "To be part of something… greater."

Mark’s lips twitched upward, not into a smile, but into something far darker. "Then make them see. Make them fear you. They won’t know what hit them."

The moment suddenly became charged with an intensity that neither of you could ignore. The calculated coldness that normally hung between you both evaporated, replaced by something far more primal. There was no longer a leader and a tool, no longer a ruler and his weapon. In this moment, it was just the two of you, standing at the edge of destruction, and something dangerous stirring in the night.

You could see the way his chest rose and fell, the slight clench of his jaw, the hunger behind his cold eyes. Without warning you closed the space between you, reaching up to rest your hand on the stony contours of his chest. For a brief moment Mark tensed, as if anticipating the risk of what might come next. But then you pulled him in, lips crashing together with an intensity that felt like it could level everything in its path. The kiss was fierce, hungry—nothing gentle about it. His hand gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if to ensure that no distance would remain between you.

You responded in kind, your body pressing into his as the kiss deepened. There was no softness, no warmth. Just raw, unrestrained power. The way his lips moved against yours was deliberate, controlled, as if every kiss was an extension of his will. You matched it, your hands gripping his hair, tugging him closer, as if you, too, wanted to assert your dominance.

Mark growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest, and it only spurred you on. You pulled away just enough to look at him—his eyes dark, filled with a mix of control and something darker, more primal. "This is what power feels like," you whispered, your breath coming in shallow bursts, your body trembling under the weight of the moment.

He didn’t respond right away, but his fingers traced the curve of your jaw, his touch cold. "I don’t need to feel power," he said, voice low and dangerous, his gaze never leaving yours. "I am power."

And before you could respond his lips were on yours again, this time even more urgent, the world around you fading to nothing as you both drowned in the fire of your shared ambition.

It wasn’t just a kiss. It was an assertion. A claim. And in that single, heated moment, everything that stood between you—every rule, every limit—was torn away. But sooner than either of you would have liked, the moment came to an end. Your lips pulled from his as he eyed the sheen of saliva now coating your mouth. It stirred an arousal deep in the pit of his abdomen.

A dark glint flickered in your eyes. "Leave them to me. I'll make sure they understand who’s in charge."

Mark gave a slight tilt of his head, acknowledging the agreement. As you moved to leave, he spoke again, his voice soft but cutting, the kind of tone that commanded loyalty without question. "Remember you’re not just here for show. You’re here because you're better than them. Use that."

With a single look, you walked past him, the heels of your boots clicking sharply against the floor as you left the room, each step bring you closer to the chaos you would soon unleash.

Mark watched you leave, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. You would do the work, ugly and bloody, and in return he would give you the dominion over this world that you both craved.

This resistance would be nothing but a footnote in the history you would write together.

Later that night...

The city streets were littered with mayhem. The resistance members who had dared to stand up against Mark’s rule were scattered, their hopes shattered. The few who remained struggled to hold on to the last threads of rebellion. But there was no escaping the inevitable.

You hovered above them, your Kryptonian presence an overwhelming symbol of strength that left those who witnessed it breathless and awestruck. The few brave souls who had gathered to oppose Mark’s empire looked up in terror as you descended, the night sky darkening around you like an omen. They could see it—your absolute dominance, and they knew in an instance that resistance would be futile.

With a flick of your wrist you sent them flying, their bodies crashing against walls, into cars, and across streets. The screams of the helpless echoed in the distance, but you didn’t care. You never did. Thia rebellion would break just like the rest had—through force, through fear.

Mark watched with satisfaction from his perch atop their fortress. His fingers tightened around the railing, a cold smirk crossing his face as you obliterated their last hope of standing tall. You were the storm he released from the sky, all encompassing in your oppression. The sight excited him in ways he could hardly contain.

And when you returned to him, stood beside him once again, the pleasured sensation thudding in his chest and coiling in his stomach was almost euphoric.

Mark turned to you, struggling to control how much feeling he convey on his face, but the truth was self-evident. In this twisted relationship, you were indispensable. The storm was yours to create, but only he could control it.

Together, the world would fall. And it would fall to you.

 “That was impressive,” he said, his voice almost reverent. “You didn’t just defeat them. You absolutely annihilated them. Such a beautiful thing you watch you show them that no one—and I do mean no one—stands a chance when we’re in control.”

You both couldn’t help but to relish in the feeling of triumph. You had crushed the resistance, obliterated anyone who dared to oppose Mark’s will. And Mark wasn’t just pleased; he was exhilarated. His eyes were fixed on you, a dark gleam in them that wasn’t just admiration but unsuppressed hunger.

He took a step toward you, his posture commanding. “You really did break them,” he said, his voice low, thick with satisfaction. “I knew you were strong, but this—seeing you unleash that power... this is exactly why I chose you.”

Your chest swelled with pride at his words. He didn’t just view you as a weapon in his arsenal. In this moment, he saw you as something more. A force to be reckoned with, equal to him in every way. You could feel the weight of his gaze on you, not with cold calculation but appreciation.

“I told you,” you murmured, your voice rich with confidence as you stepped closer. “I’ve always known what I’m capable of. I just had to make you see it too”

The space between you closed as Mark reached out, his hand brushing your cheek, the gesture almost tender but there still being a lingering notion of power behind it. A claim. A promise. “You make me so proud,” he nearly purred. “You’ve earned this. You’ve earned everything.”

His words were like fire, lighting something inside you. The look in his eyes—the raw hunger, the respect, the shared ambition—pulled you in. Without another word you crushed your lips to his, your hands threading into his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss was explosive—ferocious, full of raw desire and ecstasy.

Mark responded instantly, his hands roaming over your back, pulling you closer as if to make sure there was no air left between your bodies. His kiss was intense, possessive, but there was a deeper current to it—a viscousness that suggested he needed to remind you he was still in charge of if all—that included you.

You broke the kiss, breathing unaffected as you looked up at him with a rush of adrenaline. His eyes were dark, glowing.

“You were perfect,” he said, voice thick with desire. “You’re perfect. We’re unstoppable.”

 “We are unstoppable,” you replied, your lips pulling into a wicked smile. “And I don’t plan on stopping anytime soon.”

He didn’t hesitate. Mark pulled you back into him, kissing you again, this time even deeper as his hands exploring your body, claiming it as his. There was no need for words now—only actions. Your fingers roamed over his chest, feeling the strength beneath the fabric, the undeniable power that had brought you both to this point.

Mark’s hands slid down your sides, lifting you effortlessly as if you were weightless, and before you could fully process he had you pressed against the nearest wall, his lips never leaving yours. The kiss was all-encompassing, a physical manifestation of the control and dominance you both now shared. There was no hesitation in his touch, no doubt in his mind. He claimed you just as he had claimed the world—completely.

The kiss broke only for a moment, both of you seemingly starved for the others touch as your bodies still pressed together. “You are mine,” he said softly, the words a dark promise, a declaration.

“And you mine,” you replied, your voice full of equal certainty as your nails dragged down his chest before pulling him in for another kiss as if to seal the agreement between you.

The world outside, the people you had crushed underfoot—none of it mattered now. It was just the two of you, reveling in the power you had claimed, the empire you’d built together. This was only the beginning, and you both knew that nothing would stand in your way.

[v-killallspiders]

HEIR TO THE STARS

Mark Grayson x Kryptonian!Reader

CHAPTER ONE: FALLING IS THE FIRST LESSON

You always knew Earth wasn’t home, you could feel it in the thrum of your bones every time the sun rose over the GDA facility. You could feel it in your soul every night you went to sleep and dreamt of stars and other worlds far beyond this one. But whilst you knew Earth wasn’t really home - it sure felt like it was. It felt like home every time Cecil gave you that warm pat on the back when you passed another test of strength. It felt like home every time he took you outside to some field as a reward for being just that bit faster in the simulations he’d set up for you. 

Cecil may not have been warm but he was a constant in your life - he was your father. Even when you wished he wasn’t.

He was still your father even when he’d keep you training until you passed out from exhaustion. He was still your father when he’d keep you locked away to see how long you kept your powers for without the Sun. He was still your father because that’s just what fathers do, right? They push you to your limits - make you the best version of yourself.

He gave you everything, so you owed him everything. That’s simply the way it works. So when he comes to you one day and tells you, in that stern voice of his, “I want you to keep an eye on Invincible.” You didn’t question him, simply nodded along.

—

You weren’t quite sure what to expect of Invincible. All you knew was that he was one of Cecil’s new assets, the son of Omni-Man. You also weren’t quite sure what Cecil expected of you. Usually orders from Cecil came with a lot more information and parameters. So you simply decided to watch. You weren’t quite sure what to expect of him but what you got was… Invincible - clumsy, brave, reckless and kind. Far too kind for someone who had enough power to take over a planet single-handedly. 

You watch from a distance as he defends from a Flaxan invasion, you watch his first interaction with that weird one-eyed alien that keeps showing up periodically and you watch him as he works with Eve to fight Doc Seismic. You were always watching, not too close, but not too far. Close enough that you came in time to rush him to the GDA after his near-death experience in Machine Head’s office. But far enough that he couldn’t sense your lingering presence wherever he went. It stayed like this for months, you silently keeping watch over him and him not noticing you. Until Omni-Man finally removed his mask.

Outwardly, it’d seemed like a normal day, that was until Cecil called, “Y/N get away from Mark now! Nolan has gone rogue and you are not ready yet!”

You stiffened slightly, ‘not ready’, isn’t this what you’ve been preparing your entire life for? Everything you have done up until now for a scrap of praise, has been preparing you for this moment and you’re not ready? You hesitate for a moment before you rip out your ear piece and drop it to the floor, hundreds of feet below you before you fly off, tailing behind Mark.

But you were too late, too slow, too hesitant. Mark and Nolan were already gone, all that was left in their wake being the carcass of a dead kaiju and the body of Immortal. You ignore the body as you make your way towards Chicago, where you can hear the majority of the conflict.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for what you saw, it was absolute carnage. Nolan had destroyed the city. In the midst of the chaos, you caught sight of Nolan and Mark out of your periphery. Nolan had his son by the back of his neck, Mark’s face a mottled mess of bruises and blood, his mask torn and goggles shattered.

You didn’t even think before you slammed unto Nolan at mach speed, a sonic boom echoing over the city behind you. Nolan drops his son due to the sheer force of your impact as you drive him into the ground. You say nothing as you get on top of Nolan, landing punch after punch on him. A punch for every bruise he’d given Mark. You’re landing successive punches, until you’re not. Until Omni-Man catches your fist in his hand and crushes it, your blood spattering over his face. Nolan froze, sniffing the air.

“Kryptonian,” he mutters, before catching your other wrist and headbutting you, throwing you back a few metres, “What a waste.”

“W-wha…” you murmur, trying to lift yourself up on your crushed hand.

“You don’t even know what you are? Do you, girl?” he tuts, “No idea of the legacy left behind you, the strength of your kin?”

He walks closer to you, crouching down so he’s on your level where you are on the ground before he grabs your hair, lifting your head up so you’re eye level with him, “Let me break it down for you.”

He doesn’t get the chance before a blur of blue and yellow comes rushing at him.

“Get out of here!” It wasn’t the first time you’d heard Mark’s voice, not with all the months you’d spent as his silent follower, but it was the first time you’d heard his voice speak to you directly. You didn’t even get the chance to move before Mark and Nolan had disappeared out of your sight. 

You barely had the chance to breathe before you were teleported back into the GDA headquarters, your father’s eyes staring straight back at you, rage simmering beneath the surface of his skin.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” He yelled at you, causing you to flinch slightly. “I told you, that you weren’t ready for this fight!”

Cecil started to pace backwards and forwards in front of your limp position on the floor before finally turning back to face you again. His features softened before he crumpled to the ground with you, wrapping his arms around your broken figure, “God, if I’d have lost you…”

This was the first time Cecil had hugged you. This was the first time your father had hugged you. You broke down in his arms without another word.

[chikaras-garden]

Just thought of something and it can be with any of the bat boys

Right, so they're fucking in a risky place, and reader is trying to be quiet. And one of the batboys says "I don't want you to be quiet. I wanna here ever single fucking noise that's comes from those pretty lips"

-🌟

“Any bat boy” = Dick = I got sooooo carried away. 🌟 you're such a genius omg

You thought you’d like galas. You’ve never been to one, but what you imagined was nothing short of the fairy tales and princess stories humans are so fond of—and, admittedly, you’ve kind of grown attached to.

But, well. You’re wobbly on your feet, uncoordinated when you’re usually so sure and graceful, and entirely at the mercy of the man who invited you to the Wayne Foundation Gala.

“Dick,” you murmur, tugging on the sleeve covering to the arm you’re perched on. He hums in reply, barely glancing at you; his free hand is buried in his pocket, and your breath catches when you realize what he’s doing.

The dizzying heat in your mind backs off for just a second, and the lack of sensation between your thighs brings feeling back to your legs. You let out a shaky breath and lean your head on his shoulder, then close your eyes when a gentle hand rubs against your lower back.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he murmurs as if he’s not the one who, just an hour ago, fingered you open and stuffed a remote vibrator inside you, then made you dress for the gala and pretend everything is fine while he held the controls in his pocket.

“I can’t,” you whimper, trying to conceal your distress from the judgy wives with way too much influence that flit around you like wasps.

His lips brush against your hairline. It’s innocent, like a man who’s endearingly infatuated with his beautiful date—but you know better. “Can’t what?”

“Be here,” you press, annoyed that he’s being so purposefully obtuse. But if you’re so annoyed, why are your pussy lips clinging to the toy, fluttering and kissing the silicone as if you’re desperate for more stimulation, not less. “I can’t not— I can’t be quiet, Dick.”

Incredulously, he raises a brow, and his eyes are sharp and dangerous—but still safe and comforting. He challenges you with, “I don’t want you to be quiet.”

“But—”

He leans in and kisses just behind your ear, taking his public display of affection just a little further; behind you, you think you hear someone coo at the adorable couple.

The toy leaps to life again and you gasp, twisting yourself to hide as much of your face as you can in Dick’s neck—where you feel him chuckle. He’s holding you with one hand, steady and strong, but you know that his other hand is responsible for your slow torture.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, low and dark. “Let me hear you. I want to hear every single noise that comes from those pretty lips. You can do that for me, can’t you, pretty girl?”

[witherby]

is Conner magically linked to mouse somehow or is he so obsessed with them because there the first one he talked to beside lex luthor

Fantastic question! Conner has imprinted on Flittermouse!

I'm kinda sneaking in soulmate dynamics here a teeny bit, in the sense that Kryptonians' mating instincts have them search for partners with appealing biochemical markers to latch on to (usually for purposes of procreation, but obviously as they're both still minors that isn't playing a factor here). They also mate for life, so if they find an ideal match and imprint on them, chances of imprinting again are near zero.

Conner's biological instincts latched onto Mouse as a Great Match, and his body is responding in kind. He's found someone he desires, and now he has to win their favor in whatever manner his Kryptonian biology demands. He is becoming attuned to mouse so that his body knows where they are, how they're doing, and how he can best accommodate and protect them.

His body is in love even though he doesn't quite know what's going on yet.