#Window cleaning Kent
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yea…”homework” | clark kent ✿



MDNI - 18+ | navigation - m.list - taglist 𝜗୧ | COME TO MY I𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 (100 followers celebration!)
summary: clark kent is head over heels in love with you, and everyone know that. but when he offers to help you with your schoolwork, you take it as the perfect opportunity to make the first move (by sucking his cock)
paring: virgin!smallville!clark x bold!crush!fem!reader
wc: 2.6k
warnings: smut, oral (male receiving), overstimulation, cum swallowing, sub/dom undertones, clark is a shy virgin, reader is kinda pervy and very horny, swearing, semi-quiet “sex” and corruption kink lol..? lmk if i missed any! (to be edited later)
a/n: okay hey guys! i have 3 things to say. 1. for all my baddie that are waiting to their 100 followers celebration fic, it’s coming soon :D i just wanted to get this out of the way. 2. sorry if the s-stutter is overused, he’s just like SUPER nervous around read lol and 3. i again stayed to so fucking late/early to write this (5am) …my sleep schedule is so bad. okay luv you guys! (will be post on ao3 sooner or later)
SMUT UNDER CUT - MINORS DNI </3
“Shit…i have 4 assignments due next week, and I have so much homework to do.” you whined to your friend as you both walked down the hall to get to your last class. Somehow Clark overheard you through the crowd of rushing students, and there he was right next to you. ”I can help!” he shouted out swiftly, like he was trying to make sure no one offered their help before he could.
Clark was in love with you, it was incredibly obvious, but Clark didn’t know that. He thought he was crushing on in private, but anyone with eyes that can see and ears than can hear knows how nervous he gets when your around, he’s so cute when we stutters over his words and pretty pink blush erupting on his skin at the mere mention- no, thought of you.
Once he finished his very quick sentence an idea immediately popped in your brain. You know how much Clark likes you. Everyone who is aware of you and Clark knows. Its a fact. And I’ve been trying to figure out a way to get him alone and pounce. You liked him as well, and you could just say that. But why not have a little fun when you do.
Your cheeks bunched up as you smiled sweetly up at the tall boy “Aw, Clark! That's really nice, thank you,” you remove your hand from your side and grip his arm softlyhis strong arm. He literally tried his hardest to contain himself, he wanted to melt into your touch. “Yea, anything.” a familiar pink hue erupted on his cheeks. You were both going to be late to class but it’s going to be so worth it. “So I'll come to your house after I get my thing, yeah?” he nodded slowly, the thought of having you in his room, sitting on his sheet, had him hot.
-
Now you’re finally at the Kent's family farm. You walk up to the big yellow house, and stand on their front porch. Before you could knock on the door Clark immediately opened the door. Your eyes widened in shock from the abrupt opening. He must’ve been watching you through the window, waiting for your arrival. “How cute.” you said in your mind, thinking about him waiting for you and about his very sexy appearance. He looked so good in that tight white t-shirt that clinged on his strong torso so perfectly.
And he looked out of breath, like he was trying to clean up before you got her—he was, his room was an absolute shit show. The slight of his chest heaving up and down got you even more excited to make him do that with your mouth. Yea, that sounds pervy, but how could you not. Look at him.
You had a plan. Up your flirting, be more touchy and bold. He was going to melt wax into your hands. Both of his arms and resting on the threshold, looking down at you with that smile–the unknowingly sexy smile on his part. “Hey, Clark,” you flirted , gazing up at him with the biggest fuck me eyes your could wear.
That has such an effect on him and you know it does. His skin gets hotter as he gets more nervous. “H-hi Y/N…” he says shyly, resting his arm on the threshold. This is already going perfectly. You both just kind of stood there for a second, you’d walk in he's blocking your way, and when he realized you couldn't come in the poor boy got embarrassed. “Oh! Sorry-“ he blurted out, swiftly moving his arm so you could both “get to work”.
You giggled at him as you slipped inside the cozy home. You walked around slowly, eye scanning the family photos and very comfortable looking furniture until you heard his mother call out “Clark? Who was at the door?”. Well you didn’t know his parents would be home, but don't think that discouraged you, now you think of this as a fun little challenge. Now you have to stay quiet. She stepped into the living room with a towel in her hand, wiped the residue from whatever she was doing in the kitchen. “Y/N? What’re you doing here?” she asked with a gentle smile, “Hi, Mrs. Kent! Clark offered to help me with my schoolwork. So I suggested we study at his house!” you replied, mirroring the expression on her face.
You were here to study, yes. But you probably weren't going to retain any of the information, you had a one track mind. His mom gave him a very knowing look. She knew exactly why he offered to help you. “Well, Clark, that was very nice of you,” she teased. You could tell in his face that he wanted to scream “Please stop embarrassing me.” But he said “It's nothing. I just overheard, that's all..” instead while rubbing the back of his neck. “Mhm, you two behave yourself,” Well..
-
You had followed upstairs into his freshly cleaned room, and he so kindly opened the door for you like a real gentleman. His room was very clean, practically spotless. Now it's time to put your plan into action. You walk slowly into his room and say “I didn't get to say this earlier at school, but you looked really good today.” You couldn't see him because he was behind you but you could basically feel the stunned look on his face. You turned around and you were right. HIs eyes were widened, mouth parted as he tried to say something back.
“R-Really?” he sputtered out, eyes zoned in on you as approach closer to him.”Yea…I like what you did with your hair.” his hair looked the same as it always did, but you couldn’t say “Clark, your lips looked so kissable today, I could swallow them whole!” That would be too much. At least for now. You raised your hand up so you could thread your fingers through his soft, dark hair and framed his face so perfectly and smiled. There was that pretty pink blush you always loved to bring to him. He was going to lose his mind. His heart was beating out of his chest.
You both sat down and sank into his bed. You took off your bookbag and sat it down next to his light brown bedside table. Clark cleared his throat before he spoke up. “Okay, which subject do you want to work on?” if you were going to compete honestly you didn’t even think about that so you choose the one that needed the most urgency. He was extremely smart, so you knew he wouldn't struggle with any of it. “Let’s do Algebra,” you reply as you zip your bag and dip your hand into it to collect your math folder. His eyes light up at your words. “That’s perfect, I've been told that I”m pretty good at math. You smile “I bet you are,”
-
You both got more comfortable on his twin bed, you kicked off your shoes, sat up against his pillow, legs crossed. You were trying your hardest to stay focused but it was hard, intelligence turned you on, and Clark using it made it even better. It was just algebra but he was just so hot.
His eyes were locked in on the pieces of paper that sat in front him as he explained each problem to you. Fingers trailing down the paper, you wanted them inside you real bad. You were about to pop the question.
“Clark? Can I ask you a question?” his shoot up to your face, fully unaware of how vulgar the question was going to be. “Yea sure, what is it?” he replied with a curious look. “It's a bit of a topic but, has anyone ever gone down on you?” He almost choked on his spit, you didn't say what he thought you said, right? No, wrong. His mouth gaps as he straightens up his back. “I- W-What?” he stutters with a nervous laugh. He genuinely couldn't believe this. This is exactly what you wanted, that look on his face made you want to jump his bones.
“So I'm guessing that’s a no?” you tease, scooting a little closer, trying to break the unwanted distance in between you two. He wanted to lie to you so badly–to save himself the embarrassment–but he couldn’t and if he did tell a lie, he may have missed out on the best that might happen to him. So simply shook his head, eyes looking everywhere but your alluring face. But when he felt your hand lay down gently on his thigh, inching closer and closer to the tent in jeans, he could no longer avoid your seductive gaze.
“Okay listen..” you begin as you scoot even closer. “I usually don’t do this, but I like you, Clark…want me to show you how much?” you purrs, palming his hard through his jeans. “Yes- yes, yes…please.” he whimpered between his stutters, blush traveling all over his body. He chews on his bottom lip as he watches you sink down to the floor, sitting pretty on your knees.
You pause on rubbing on a growing tent in his pants and start to get rid of his belt, unbuckling the strap of leather, but his hand is on yours faster than you could blink. “Wait-” his face was painted with guilt, you furrowed your brows, was this actually a bit too much? ‘What’s wrong, Clark? Did I go too far?” you asked, “No- not at all, but you don’t have to if you really don’t want to..” he muttered. How could a boy be so smart but dumb at the same time?
There you were, on your knees for him. Ready to suck him off in a heartbeat, and he thinks you don’t want to do this. And that is exactly what you said to him, and he nodded softly at your words, you didn’t mean to make him feel stupid, but he needed to get a clue.
You removed his belt, and finally you zipped open his jeans, you lips your bite in excitement, you could wait to see what he looked like under his blue boxers. You grab the buckle of his jeans and slide them down just enough, making sure you could easily pull his underwear down.
Clark couldn’t believe his eyes, he had the love of his life sitting before him, basically drool over him. You’re darkened eyes locked eye contact with his as you began to stroke him through the fabric. His mouth gaps at the pleasure shooting through his leaking cock. Pre-cum staining the inside of his boxers.
His little gasps made you throb. You bite your lip as you feel his hard, big, veiny cock—like you guessed. You know he would be big from the way he walked. It only made sense. Now the real prize was about to spring out of his boxers. Your fingers hooked the elastic of his boxers.
There it was. His dick bouncing onto his clothed abs—that you were going to see in the meantime. He was long and thick, the tip of his cock was bright red, like it was screaming for you touch it, and you listened.
You got your nails and slowly dragged it up and down his length to get a reaction, you wanted to hear him again so badly. That earned you a soft whimper from him, hips buckling up into nothing as you teased him. “P-please..” he murmured, begging you touch him again.
You smiled softly at him and decided to put an ending to his misery and fully grabbed hold of throbbing length. You slide you hand up to collect the leaking pre-cum, gliding it up and down. You heard his breath start to pick up, panting from the sensation. . “Does that feel good?” you purred, as you start to pump him a little faster. “Yes..” he whimpered, brows knitted together from the feeling.
He looked glorious. Even though you were sitting on your knees, you still felt in control and that was the hottest thing ever. His eyes are watching your every move, focusing on the way you’re stroking him, the way your face moves as you pleasure him so well.
Soft whine escapes from him as you lick a long stripe from the base of his cock to the head of it, finally taking him into you mouth. You wanted to ruin him. You use your tongue swirl around his tip, making him bite back a moan that would’ve been way too loud—for now.
You begin to bob you head up and down, slick lips coating his skin. “F-fuck-“ he gasp, hands grasping on the duvet that sat underneath, hips jolting up into your mouth. Innocent farm boy Clark Kent swearing? You were really doing a number on him.
That word gave you the signal to work a little faster.
His head threw back as you hollowed your cheeks around him and you sucked him off, using your hand to stroke the par that wasn’t in your mouth. You use your other hand to pin his squinting hips down.
His skin was on fire. Cheek, ears and neck pink because of you. Salvia ran down you chin as you deepthroated him, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. Mascara streaming down your puffy cheeks. Then you felt him twitch in your mouth.
“Shit- I’m about to-“ he rasped out, heart slammed against his ribcage, and before you could do anything he release in your throat. Not that you're complaining, but you deepthroated a virgin, this was bound to happen.
Little praises and whimpers fell out of his mouth as he came, eyes shut closed. Hair falling in front of his eyes as his chest heaved up and down. You swallow his cum and take him out of your mouth. Immediately catching your breath. He felt so embarrassed. He tried his hardest not to but your mouth just felt so good.
“I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to…You just-“ you cut him off before he could babble on and on and on. “Clark. It’s okay. We’re not done yet..” you said, grabbing his length back into your hand once again.
His hissed at the the shocking feeling that hit his cock, “O-Oh-“ he stuttered out, head tilting down as you overstimulated his already fucked out dick. He takes his lips between his teeth, trying his hardest not to scream out your name. Now this was a sight everyone should see at least once in their life.
You pumped your hand really fast. You knew it was going to drive him nuts. His hips jolted up into your hand, eyes screwed shut as his second climax hit him like a brick wall. It hurt so good. He sees stars as his release pouring down your hand. He was out of breath, his lips were swollen from the tugging his teeth did and if it was time for the grim reaper to take him away, he could die a happy man.
-
After he cleaned both of you up, you had to fix your makeup in his bathroom. If her mom saw you in the condition you were in she would flip. As you were cleaning up your lipstick, you saw Clark standing right beside you in the mirror. “Y/N? Can I ask you a question?”
You just knew this was about to be good. “Yea sure, what is it?” He cleared his throat before he started to speak. “Can I- you know…return the favor? I’ve never done it before but you could teach me?”
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౨ৎ Clark kent x fem!Reader ౨ৎ
Summary: Very fluffy, baking with your boyfriend who's kind of a mess.
A/N: I'm rewatching Smallville and I'm so brainrotted, ugh I love Clark he's such a golden retriever. Also, I got asked to write Clark so much, thank you guys omggg
You and Clark had been standing in the kitchen for the past thirty minutes; the afternoon sun filtered through the window, giving everything a golden hue. Music played from your phone as you both baked side by side.
Clark was standing at the counter next to you, brow furrowed in concentration as he carefully measured flour into a bowl. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and there was already a faint dusting of flour on his forearms. You couldn’t help but smile at how serious he looked—like this was the most important task in the world.
"If you frown any harder," You broke the silence, "you'll burst a blood vessel."
"I'm trying to be precise with the measurements." He replied, voice strained with concentration.
"You’re acting like this is a life-or-death mission. It’s just cookies, Clark." You said, leaning your hip against the counter as you folded your arms.
"You're watching me like a hawk, I just don't want to mess up." He shrugged.
"Relax, I'm not judging. Just...watching over you."
Clark chuckled and returned to his task, pouring the flour into the mixing bowl. "Okay, what’s next?"
"Now you mix the dry ingredients together," you said, gesturing to the whisk. "Gently. Gently, Kent."
He reached for the whisk but hesitated. "Gently. Got it. I can be gentle."
He started whisking the flour and spices together, his movements careful and deliberate.
"Okay, good." You spoke, watching over his shoulder.
For a moment, it looked like he was getting the hang of it. But then, he added a little too much force, and the whisk sent a puff of flour flying into the air.
You stepped back, the white powder settling around you and over you. You brushed some of it from your clothes and looked up at your boyfriend.
"Clark!" You brushed the flour from his shoulders, "What did I say about being gentle?"
"I didn’t mean to!" he protested, looking down at the mess with wide, apologetic eyes, cheeks flushed.
"You're a disaster, Kent." You said, wiping flour off his shoulders. "I'm taking over the whisking, you're on clean up duty."
"Yes ma'am." He nodded, grabbing a kitchen towel and slinging it over his shoulder.
You whisked the batter together as he wiped the countertops. You felt his gaze on you—warm, almost burning— as you went on with your tasks.
His gaze never left you, not when he finished cleaning and moved to roll the dough with you, not when he stood behind you, watching as you dug your hands in the batter.
"You're really good at this." He said, his arms under yours, hands copying your movements.
"At baking? I'd hope so, or else we'll be eating rocks tonight." You looked up at him.
"No, I mean...at making things fun." He spoke softly.
You felt your cheeks warm, trying to focus on the dough. "Well, baking’s supposed to be fun. Especially with someone like you."
Especially with someone like him. Oh, he blushed at that. You turned to face him when he didn't reply and his hands stilled on the marble countertop.
He stammered before offering a soft "Yeah..." and a nod of his head. To which you laughed.
"You've got...uh...you’ve got a little something..." He gestured vaguely toward your face.
You frowned, wiping at your cheek. "Here?"
"No, over here," he said, reaching out gently to brush a streak of flour off your nose. The touch was soft, lingering just a moment longer than necessary, and when you looked up at him, his blue eyes were warm with amusement.
"Thanks," you murmured, feeling your cheeks heat up. He smiled, and for a moment, the world felt as golden as the sunlight streaming through the window.
"Anytime." He tilted your chin up with two fingers and pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, then to your lips.
You blinked in surprise, your heart racing as the warmth of his lips lingered on yours. The kiss was gentle and simple, yet it sent a thrill through you, leaving you momentarily breathless.
Clark pulled back slightly, his expression a mix of playfulness and sincerity. "Just making sure you’re all clean," he said, his voice teasing but soft.
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "That makes no sense, I have flour all over my face again."
"Then I get to clean it off again—" He leaned in again.
Before you could respond, he gently brushed his lips against your cheek, lingering near the flour smudge. It was just a quick peck, but the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.
"Uh—we gotta get these in the oven," You turned back to the countertop,trying to regain your focus as your cheeks flushed.
Clark chuckled softly, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. "Right, right. Cookies first, kisses second," he said, his voice light and teasing.
────୨ৎ────
@v44lentine (I know this isn't exactly what you requested but it gives off the same vibes, imo 🤨)
Requests are open!!!
#dc comics#dc universe#clark kent x you#clark kent#smallville clark kent#clark kent x reader#clark kent fluff#smallville#dc fluff#superman#superman fluff#superman x reader#superman x you#clark kent x female reader#dc clark kent#dc comics x reader#dc comcis
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𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐃.
࿐ — 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂 : (Superman) Clark Kent x GN Reader. 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 : ࿐ — Clark got injured, now you have to help him (and get him dressed.) 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝘾𝙊𝙐𝙉𝙏 : 1.1k 𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 : Fluff. Depictions of semi-nudity and heavy injury. Suggestive, no smut. 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 : English isn’t my first language. Batman knows you're a freak. Enjoy ♡
The night was dark and windy, the rain splashing against the windows of Clark's apartment. You were curled up on the couch, watching the news reports of the latest crime spree that had been stopped by Superman a few days ago, when you heard the sound of the front door bursting open. There was a loud clatter of some kind. That was enough to get you on your feet. You could feel your stomach physically drop as you saw Clark- no, Superman wounded. You never thought you’d have to see the day. Clark stumbled through the front door, his face pale.
He had managed to save the day once again, but this time, he hadn't come out unscathed. A deep, angry gash ran across his stomach, the edges of the wound already starting to turn a sickening shade of green from the Kryptonite poisoning. He leaned against the wall for support, his hand pressed tightly against the wound in a useless attempt to stall the bleeding. He should have gone to the Fortress of Solitude first, it was the best way to counteract the effects of the Kryptonite. But he needed to check on you, to make sure that you were safe. When he realized you were standing in front of him, he forced a weak smile, not wanting to worry you.
"Hey, honey," he said, his voice strained with pain. "I'm... I'm home."
“Clark! What happened?” You dashed to hold him as fast as you could. He tried to take a step forward but the effort was too much. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor with a grunt. You tried to catch him but he was too heavy for you to support alone.
So you settled for the next best thing, kneeling next to him as you try to figure out how you could help. “Clark. It’s.. Okay. You’re going to be alright.” You didn’t know who you were trying to convince, him or yourself. Maybe both. Then you realized how you could get him to the bed. But it wasn’t the best option.. “I’m sorry for what I have to do, baby.” You mutter, giving Clark a kiss on his forehead before you stood up. Reaching for his legs, you firmly held his ankles and dragged him back to your shared bedroom. You knew it most likely didn’t hurt, he was the Man of Steel after all, but you still felt bad for basically manhandling him while he was bleeding out. You would have to find a way to apologize to him later. When you finally reached the bed, he let out a sigh of relief as he felt the soft mattress beneath his back. He looked up at you and managed a weak smile. "Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
You couldn’t even think of what to say so you just let out a soft hum in response. "In the bathroom, under the sink," he said finally, his words coming out. "There's a first aid kit. Bring me that, and some towels. And... and a bottle of hydrogen peroxide. It's a strong disinfectant, it'll help clean the wound." You quickly noted all of it in your mind before rushing to get everything. Looking through the cabinets, you took out all the things Clark asked for. You came back into the room to find him still sitting on the bed, he had just re-adjusted himself. He was in a much better position to be treated. You climbed into bed, kneeling beside him. You took the first aid kit and pulled out what you would need. A wrap of bandage, a bottle of water and snippers. Then you took one of the towels and dampen it with the water. “How are you doing, Clark?”
"I... I'm hanging in there, sweetheart," he said through a tense jaw. "It hurts like hell, but I'll be okay. I promise you that." He watched as you worked to clean the wound, your brow furrowed in concentration. "You're doing great..” He said softly, his hand reaching to lay on your back. “I couldn't ask for a better nurse than you.” He was trying to lighten the mood, it was sweet. “Did you hear that line in a movie?” Teasing, you gave him a kiss on his jaw. “I like it.” When you said that, you could feel his hands move to reach your hips until you pat them away gently. “Don’t start, Superman. You’re injured.”
He chuckled slightly, his hand still on your hip but he didn’t move it any further. “I’m sorry, I can't help myself when you look so beautiful.” Knowing Clark, he wasn’t trying to tease you. He was being honest. He always was. It was nice to hear.
"Wrap it tightly, but not too tight. And... if I pass out, don't worry. I'll be healed before you know it.” He rubbed your hip bone with his thumb, feeling a bit content with the silence. Once you were finally done, you realized you would have to help him get undressed.
“There we go. See, you didn’t pass out. Good job.” You gave his hand a soft squeeze before you reached for the hem of his shirt, looking at him for permission. He gave you a small nod, “Arms up,” You said while unclipping his belt and pulling the shirt off of him.
Then you pulled his pants down his legs, pulling off his boots and letting them fall to the ground. Leaving him in his underwear, you stood up to get him one of his regular sleeping shirts. Clark usually saw no need for pants when sleeping, he said they make him get too hot. “Which one do you want? Red or white?” You asked, looking through the solid color options in the closet. "The red one," he said softly, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He watched as you rummaged through the closet, admiring the curve of your back. You pulled out the red shirt, closing the closet door. You walked back over to Clark and helped him lift his arms up again, pulling the shirt down. You smiled at your good work, Clark was not comfortable and healing because of you. Clark definitely did not let that go unnoticed, pulled you by your waist, pressed you against him. It stung a bit but he powered through. Bringing your hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. He could feel the warmth of your skin, could hear the unsteady beat of your pulse. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he whispered, his eyes drifting shut as he held you still. ©◞✶ 𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐘𝐈𝟻𝐄𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒

☆ 𝙈𝘼𝙎𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏.

#envy's library.#clark kent x y/n#clark kent x you#clark kent x reader#clark kent#clark kent x male reader#clark kent x gn reader#clark kent imagine#clark kent fanfiction#superman x y/n#superman x you#superman x reader#superman#dc x male reader#dc x gn reader#dc x reader
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Batfam and Danny, Part 33
A few days later at the gala.
Jon: There's a lot of people here.
Damian: Unfortunately.
Jason: Let's just get through this night.
Danny (to Damian): Try not to murder anyone uncle.
Damian: No promises.
Jon: I'll keep him in check.
Bruce: Thank you Jon.
Damian (done with his family): Let's go Jon.
Damian dragged Jon to the snack table.
Jon: Snack break already?
Damian: Trust me these people are easier to handle with a full stomach.
Jon: Well I'm not going to reject free food.
Damian: That too.
Jon: You're rich, everything is basically free to you.
Damian: That's true.
A few minutes later.
Jon: What's going on over there?
Damian: Hmm? They're clearing the dance floor to well dance.
Jon smiled and held out his hand to Damian.
Damian: Seriously?
Jon: What? We are here together aren't we?
Damian (smiling): Fine but if you step on my shoes I will throw you out the nearest window.
Jon (smiling): Don't threaten me with a good time.
The two made their way to the dance floor and started to dance.
Damian: I don't mean to sound rude but I did not expect you to know how to dance.
Jon: And yet you brought me to a dance and didn't give me any lessons.
Damian: Fair. But how do you know how to dance?
Jon: My grandparents.
Damian: Ah of course, why didn't I think of that?
Jon: Less thinking more dancing, you're rather slow.
Damian (hearing a challenge): You're on Kent.
Jon: Just try to keep up Wayne.
After several minutes of dancing.
Damian (laughing): I haven't had that much fun in a while.
Jon: Me neither.
Damian: You're covered in sweat.
Jon: You too... why don't we sneak away to the roof? Get some fresh air.
Damian: Sure. Let's get away from these rich Gothamites.
At the roof.
Damian: Fresh air.
Jon: You bats have really cleaned up the city.
Damian: We still have a long way to go. Don't tell anyone else I said this but I hope one day Gotham might be like Metropolis.
Jon (looking at Metropolis on the other side of the river): With your help Gotham will surpass Metropolis.
Damian: Not if you keep helping Metropolis.
Jon: Let's agree to disagree.
Damian: I can agree to that. Damian turned to look at Jon. You ok?
Jon: What?
Damian: You look nervous.
Jon: Well you've looked nervous all night too.
Damian: touché.
Jon: Damian can I ask you something?
Damian: Sure.
Jon: I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now, and I might as well do it tonight. Jon grabbed Damian's hands. Damian Wayne al Ghul, will you allow me to court you?
Damian (blushing): Court me?
Jon: Did I say it wrong?
Damian: Yes! I mean no! I mean- you said it right. I mean yes I'd be happy to have you court me.
Jon: Really?
Damian: Yes, but why me?
Jon: Why not? You're smart, considerate even though you don't like to show it, a great friend, and a greater leader whenever we go on missions together. If anything I should be asking you why you'd agree to go out with me.
Damian: You underestimate yourself. You are also incredibly smart, you know how to deescalate things before they get out of hands, and you are also a good leader. You may not notice it but half the time during our missions you take charge. You're not my sidekick you're my partner, my equal.
The two smiled at each other.
Damian: And an idiot!
Jon: What?
Damian: I was going to ask you to court me at the end of the night!
Jon: Wha?
Damian: At first I was just going to swallow my feelings, but then Danny gave me the idea to ask you to the gala and then decide at the end of the night whether to ask you out or not. I was going to ask you out when we got back to the manor. I made up my mind during our dance.
Jon: Damian...
Damian: Yeah?
Jon (blushing): Me too!
Damian: What!?
Jon: I didn't want to ruin our friendship so I was going to swallow my emotions, but then you asked me to the gala and... I made up my mind as well during our dance... to ask you to court me.
Damian: We're idiots.
Jon: I won't argue with you on that.
Damian: So what now?
Jon: I don't know what do couples do?
Damian: I don't know! My siblings go to restaurants with their partners.
Jon: Or the movies. What if we watch that new assassin movie coming out in a few days? You can tell me all the inaccuracies in it.
Damian: That sounds like an good plan, we can have a private screening in my family's at-home theater. I'm sure my dad can secure the movie before its release.
Jon: Sounds like a plan! Just call me when you get it.
Damian: I will.
The two looked at each other.
Jon: Can we hug?
Damian: Yes!
Jon (still hugging): So does this mean we're boyfriends?
Damian: I think so.
Jon: Should we tell people?
Damian: Let's keep it between our families for now, if that's ok.
Jon: That's fine. Let's keep it between us tonight. We can tell our families tomorrow.
Damian: Works for me.
They broke the hug.
Jon: We should get back to the gala before the others worry.
Damian: Right.
The two held each other's hands and started to head towards the stairs... when they hit something.
Jon: The hell? What did we hit?
Damian: There's nothing here- no...
Jon: What?
Damian: Danny?
The rooftop remained for a few seconds... then Danny appeared.
Danny: Hi...
Jon: How much of that-
Danny: Everything.
Damian: Why-
Danny: I saw you two wondering off and wanted to make sure you didn't get in trouble. Then you two started talking and when I realized what you two were talking about I panicked and froze.
Damian: You were invisible. Why weren't you intangible?
Danny: I panicked!
Jon: Well there's no use hiding it from him.
Damian: Guess not. Jon and I are a couple now.
Danny: Congratulations. And don't worry I'll keep this till you guys tell everyone else.
Damian: Thank you.
Danny: Of course. Now let's get you two back to the gala.
(Master Post)
#dc x dp#dp x dc#dc x dp crossover#dp x dc crossover#jon x damian#damian x jon#jon kent#jon el#superboy#damian wayne#damian al ghul#damian wayne al ghul#robin#jason todd#red hood#danny fenton#danny phantom#bruce wayne#batman
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I have a fanfic idea that I haven’t really committed to writing, so you can have it here.
Idea: Batman and Superman decide to finally put the bro-mance to rest and go on a proper date. The thing is, they both plan to reveal their identities at the restaurant.
Bruce focuses so hard on looking like Bruce Wayne, but also more himself that he does at galas. He’s wearing a turtleneck and his comfy work shoes. His hair is less organized and he lets himself slouch.
Clark isn’t sure whether to slick back his hair like Superman but keep the glasses or keep everything Clark Kent but leave the glasses home. He decides to just wing it and go as much like himself as he can: jeans, boots, and glasses. After all, he’s a Kansas farm boy under every layer of identity he’s created.
So, then comes the day for them to meet. They expect to see each other, be a little surprised, then go about their date as normal.
It turned out…not like that.
With neither knowing what name the table was reserved under, they both assume they’ve arrived first and watch every man that fits their date’s general build pass them by.
Clark sees Bruce Wayne and thinks, “Wow! What are the odds Bruce Wayne happens to be at the same restaurant? Funny.” Then he sits down at a booth and waits for Batman.
Bruce, to his credit, watches Clark pass by with suspicions. The guy looks kind of like Superman but those curls are so dense and he honestly cannot imagine Big Blue dressed like a cowboy, so he waves it, especially when the man doesn’t stop to confront him. He just stares the way everyone else has after seeing a celebrity out in public and moves on.
An hour passes. Then two. Both are sitting a few tables apart, looking around desperately for their hero coworker to show.
Bruce gets impatient first. He understand Superman has a lot on his plate and a single free night is a lot to ask. Maybe they’ll try again. Or they won’t, since Bruce has convinced himself this was stupid to begin with.
It’s as he’s preparing to go that he sees that cowboy again. The gorgeous man is looking down, crestfallen at also being stood up.
So, Bruce does something a little spontaneous. Bruce sits in front of the guy. He blames it on the glasses of wine he had while waiting.
Bruce: “I’m Bruce. May I be blunt?”
Clark, blinking in surprise: “uh, sure?”
Bruce: “I watched you walk in over an hour ago and no one has accompanied you. Seeing as my date did the same, I’d like to fill the space.”
Clark, again, surprised he’s even being talked to by a billionaire outside of his job: “Y-yes? Yes! I mean, sure! By all means!”
It’s not like Batman’s going to come crashing in from the window. Well, he could, but Clark’s been listening to the city around them. No sign of Batman’s grapple.
So, Bruce and Clark meet. They fall into conversation easily, even make each other laugh. It’s so effortless and slightly suspicious, but they’re having a fun time and Bruce isn’t self-sabotaging enough to break away now. Not when he’s needed this for a while.
Then, at the end of the date, Clark listens for Batman’s heartbeat. He tries to hear where his friend might be, to understand why he didn’t show, but the heartbeat is standing right in front of him. There, in Bruce Wayne’s chest.
And/or, Clark removed his glasses to clean them and it clicks in Bruce’s mind. He reaches out to smooth all of Clark’s hair back and a single, rebellious curl pops out.
They’re both so furious, Clark has to fly them to the roof to properly shout about it.
#fanfic#writing#batman#bruce wayne#clark kent#superman#superbat#misunderstandings#these idiots#I love them#blind date#accidental dating
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— Summary: Y/N, Dick and Conner were best friends. Unlike them, Y/N was a civilian who just often helped both heros. But sometimes, he went curious about their patrol, and he asked them about it. Which went rather ugly at best.
— Warnings: Angst Hurt/Comfort, Dick, Conner, and Reader are best friends, you can see them as lovers if you want, civilian!reader, male!reader.
— Words: 1.4k.
— A/N: Okay! For the Anon. I don't really know if you want this to be a ship, or platonic. So I'll make it platonic but it's possible to be seen as poly if you want, I'll be on a hiatus for a while... I'll be on hiatus in March. Probably back in the end (30-31) I'll be back. But hey! Regardless, I hope everyone has a nice day and enjoyed this fic!!
— Pairing: Dick Grayson & Male!Reader & Conner Kent
That very day where Y/N met both of his friends, Dick Grayson and Conner Kent. Everything changed significantly about his life.
How he met them was odd, perhaps. Coming to Metropolis City for meeting a friend, Y/N find the Kryptonian bloody after a battle Y/N’s memory itself felt blurry. What he could recall was seeing Superboy being thrown roughly to one of the building on Metropolis after winning the battle. Perfectly next to Y/N who watched everything with widened eyes.
Feeling empathy—he did whatever he could to helped the hero, even after Superboy himself said there’s no need for. But Y/N insisted, cleaning every blood and wound like a doctor treating a patient, while the Kryptonian just watched every move, every wound.
“And… final wound.” Y/N muttered under his breath as he finished wrapping an injury around the Kryptonian’s arm.
As for Superboy, he took a look over the medical tape—covering the wounds which surprised him. Specially for some civilian who was dumbfounded seeing him just fighting. The Kryptonian nodded to himself before standing up.
“Thank you… erm…” Superboy gave Y/N a hand, which he took. “It’s… nothing. It’s M/N.” Y/N looked down to their hands while they shook hands.
“Ah, yeah. M/N, thank you.” Both male’s hand just, shook. Neither of them stop while they make eye contact. It’s awkward at most. “Are you a civilian from here?” Superboy added. “N–No. I’m from Blüdhaven. I’m just visiting a friend.” Y/N immediately spoke as their hands parted.
Superboy looked up, placing a finger to his chin as if he was thinking of something—a light bulb lit up, remembering the city name. He thanked Y/N again, before with a single blink, somehow the Kryptonian was gone. Y/N was looked around, he didn’t expect an half Kryptonian to just be gone with a single blink. Yet—he didn’t ask further, he just walked to his destination.
“Shit no way, you actually saves a superhero!?” One of Y/N’s friends spit his water with jaw dropped, while some where gasping silence.
“I mean, yeah. Why?” Y/N shrugged as one of his buddies slapped the back of his neck. Shaking his head while interject with a smirk. “Oh boy, you really helped an Kryptonian? No offense man but really!” His friend drunkly laughed while tapping his glass of alcohol to Y/N’s water.
How Y/N met Dick is like those stories in fanfictions he often read.
Living in Blüdhaven, the name “Nighwing” was known to be a hero. How Y/N actually met him? It was just a casually evening and a fight happened. He stayed inside of his apartment, knowing he cannot do much. He just chilled in his living room, do absolutely anything he could to kill time—when he heard his window was opened, Y/N nearly froze. Going to the kitchen to get a knife, he prepared himself for whatever what’s to come—only to find Blüdhaven’s hero, getting into your apartment from Y/N’s very window.
“HOLY—” Nighwing jolted, nearly falling. Just in time where Y/N helped him, preventing the Vigilante from falling.
After quick explanation, Nightwing said he mistaken Y/N’s apartment was his. A light chuckle escaped his lips, Y/N then eventually welcomed the Vigilante, until he saw a wound on Nightwing’s shoulder. Y/n raised an eyebrow.
“Are you alright there, sir—Night...Nightwing?” The Vigilante slightly jolted and looked at this left shoulder, his suit—somehow gets perfectly sliced, of course Nighwing brushed this off.
But Y/N isn’t having it.
Going to the bathroom to get his first aid kit. Y/N gently treated the wound, giving it alcohol—brushing and cleaning any dirt before giving it a bandage.
“You… seriously—you don’t have to.” Nightwing shook his head while smiling with amusement, turned his head to look at the bandage. He nodded. “Honestly, thank you a lot…”
Y/N just smiled, as Nightwing gave him a hand for a handshake—a gratitude. Which he accepted, and with that, Nightwing was off. Giving Y/N a wave.
And after that, Y/N with both males actually had a good relationship. Him and Conner would occasionally met, with the Kryptonian and Y/N talking about life, him and Dick often talked together on top of Y/N’s apartment complex—knowing both identities of both of his close friends. It was sure an unexpected—more to Y/N knowing both best friends of his were best friends themselves.
After patrol, He’ll met them on top of his apartment’s building. Y/n, Dick, and Conner would chat about life, talking over treats and drinks.
But sometimes, you just wanna know about their lives being a hero, saving many civilians—Y/N and many others might be curious. Especially Y/N would helped them with injuries, Y/N never asked—he kept every question to himself. But curiosity will eventually catch him.
One night, Y/N came with some treats like his usual. But he found Dick and Conner all clean without wounds he didn’t asked—he just placed the treats. Both male thanked him, Y/N smiled.
“Curious…” Y/N started. “How’s life being a hero? What happened in your guys’ patrol?” Dick paused biting his sandwich, Conner just froze. They both exchange glances. As If they were communicating on their minds as they don’t want Y/N wanting to know their life.
“It’s… nah! Nothing, it’s a hero thing y’know? You’d probably won’t get it as much.” Dick swallowed a lump after finishing his words, “Yeah. I mean, it’s not that easy to explain it to someone like you.” Conner let out an almost—awkward chuckle. Y/N? He just stood there hands on his sides—into fist. Looking at both heros. He smiled again.
“Is that so?” His voice was barely a whisper. Both heroes gave Y/N a nod. Processing to continue. Y/N was just beside them. Silent from the start and end, after Dick and Conner finished, they said their goodbyes then gone.
Y/N felt something—his heart twitched with something. He doesn’t knew, but the fact both of his friends—somehow he able to consider beat friends said he wouldn’t understand, hurt. It hurts in a way he cannot explain, Y/N knew he’s a strong man with emotions. But this? It felt… shattering.
After that, Y/N came to his apartment. Crying in silence—putting his phone in silent mode the whole day. As Dick’s words and Conner’s response stuck to his mind. “You’d probably won’t get it as much.”, “it’s not that easy to explain it to someone like you.” He kept thinking to himself; is this friendship just a lie? Or is it something else…?
Those words echoed like music—Y/N felt like those words and some music notes circled him each time he opened his phone to find neither Dick nor Conner texted him. But Y/N ignored all of them. They even called you in some point, making you answer them with a simple yet somehow make people asked more; “I’m fine.”
Dick and Conner would exchange glances with Y/N’s answer. There’s not elaboration. They hang out less, and both heroes missed that laugher and smile of their best friend. What should they do? They expect where their answer about the day Y/N finally asked about their patrol after what felt like an eternity.
And they took matters to their own hands.
Since Y/N barely came out from his apartment, or even if he did. He'll just came out quick and never to be seen again. Dick and Conner didn’t think coming to his house could put them to trouble. Their solution? Give Y/N gifts infront of his apartment door. Simple gifts but meant deep, even a small note they’ll left, usually filled with their apologies or just a small vent about patrol.
Weeks of neglected gifts. Eventually, the spot where the group would meet up for a hang out, Superboy came first to find a plate of treats, and a small cake. Superboy called Nightwing. Y/N isn’t out yet—but from this, they expect at least, there’s a small progress of change.
Soon—they’ll left small voice notes about patrol, not much in detail. But it was short and clear of their night, but if made Y/N felt better.
At night, Nightwing came to their usual spot. He still expect Y/N isn’t there. But there he was, with Conner with that smile felt so familiar it warmth Nightwing—as he goes down to met with them.
Y/N at first somewhat distant. Both heroes. Dick and Conner looked at each other, with the slow breath. They hugged Y/N—their bestfriend to a tight hug, nearly suffocating him. But Y/N chuckled as he tried to hugged his friends back.

#axetive's works !#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x male reader#conner kent#conner kent x reader#conner kent x male reader#male reader#x male reader
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that one post about jason getting a roomate when he returns to gotham and starts his red hood arc except instead of dick, it’s clark kent.
yes it might be a stretch that these charcters end up roommates but hey that’s why it’s fan content and not real
but anyways, imagine clark kent. lois lane broke up with him because it wasn’t working (aka she is over his fascination with a certain gotham legend… one that dresses like a bat who clark doesn’t even know the real name of)
lois gets the apartment in the break up, and maybe this a world where conner is living with martha so that’s where most of clark’s money ends up. he ends up getting a cheap apartment in gotham. why? because of metropolis’ rising rental prices duh, definitely not because he wants to know the identity of a certain bat
clark gets a roommate because he’s slightly depressed due to the crises he’s going through… he doesn’t really vet who it is because why should he. if they’re not a bald millionaire, he’s probably fine.
it ends up being a scruffy kid named jason.
cue the identity shenanigans.
jason thinks his roommate is really weird. he works in metropolis but lives in gotham. he always leaves the window open. he’s clean shaven but doesn’t own a razor (jason is slightly concerned clark is using his). BUT jason chalks all of clark’s clarkisms to a midlife crisis. doesn’t matter anyway, he has better things to worry about (i.e. becoming a crime lord)
clark is really concerned for his roommate. he’s a college aged kid but he is clearly not in school or even working a legal job. he has multiple guns under his bed (but clark can’t say anything about that). he comes home injured (but clark can’t say anything about that). he’s trying really hard not to get in jason’s business, but he has subtly tried to get him to apply for an internship at the daily planet after he realized jason is into writing. but, at the end of the day, it’s not his kid and he has other things to worry about (finding out the identity of batman even if it results in an argument and a passionate make out)
clark and jason argue about batman and they laugh about jane austen. jason doesn’t understand clark’s midwest sayings and clark can’t decipher jason’s crime alley accent. it’s a weird dynamic but it works.
it changes when batman, who realized superman has been stalking him, stalks superman back. he ends up at clark kent’s apartment. and sees superman in civilian form eating dinner with his dead son.
#idk if this makes any sense#but the world i’m creating in my mind is so beautiful#jason todd#red hood#batman#superman#superbat
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Eyes on the ground
Reader/Son x Clark Kent & Lois Lane
Request - I wanted to ask if it was possible for you to write a AU of sorts. A crossover between Scarlet Witch and Superman & Lois. Where Clark and Lois have a third son and turns out that he's he's krypton's Scarlet Witch/Warlock. MC is younger than the twins.
Lois and Clark are in the kitchen talking alone. They see you playing catch with your brothers outside.
“Do you think any of them will get powers?” Lois asked.
“Maybe… I’m not sure. They don't show any signs and nothing strange has happened for now” Clark said.
“They are too young. I just want them to have a normal childhood” Lois said.
“I understand. Let's not worry about that for now” Clark said.
They see you are playing rough with your brothers. It was Jon's idea to play football in the backyard. You wanted to show off and prove that you are strong enough to play rough. Jon threw the ball at Jordan but you caught the ball, then you and Jon started to wrestle for the ball. Lois and Clark left the kitchen and went to stop you and your brothers playing rough.
“Boys enough” Clark yelled.
He grabbed the football then you and your brothers, then you started to breathe hard.
“We were playing,” Jordan said.
“We told you three many times not to play rough,” Lois said.
“It’s football. I'm strong they can't beat me” You said.
You start to flex your biceps and your brothers roll their eyes.
“Y/N, you can't play rough every time you play football,” Lois said.
“I’m not a baby,” You whined.
You hate it when they treat you like a baby, you want to prove to them that you're not a baby.
“Go inside the house all of you,” Clark said.
“Not fair. I was having fun” You said frustrated.
You kicked the football so hard that you broke the kitchen window. Jordan and Jon gasped and you didn't expect to break the window.
“In the house now!” Lois yelled.
“Sorry,” You said.
You and everyone else go inside the house. Your father made you clean up the mess while he watched over you. He starts to give you the speech and you really don't want to listen to the speech but you don't say anything.
In the family, you're the youngest, and your parents are more protective of you. You always try to prove that you are not a baby and don't need protection. Clark and Lois love their boys but you are a bit wild because you like to explore.
———-
Jordan and Jon want pizza for dinner. They asked their parents but they said no, then Jordan got an idea.
“Y/N, go ask mom and dad for pizza for dinner,” Jordan said.
“You and Jon already asked and they said no,” You said.
He puts his arm around your shoulders.
“They will say yes to you because you are the rainbow child,” Jordan said.
“Don’t call me that” You said.
“It’s true, Y/N. You know mom had miscarriages before she had you. Go ask for pizza” Jon said.
“Okay, but they will say no,” You said.
They follow you downstairs, but they are in the hallway listening. You are in the living room, while Lois and Clark are sitting down on the couch.
“Mom, dad can we have pizza for dinner?” You asked
“Okay, sure. I will order the pizza, Y/N do you want to come with me?” Clark said.
“Yeah,” You said.
Jordan and Jon are happy that they will eat pizza for dinner. You leave the house with your dad and get in the truck, he lets you pick the radio station. He listens to you talk about your favorite band.
After buying pizza and before going home, he stopped the truck.
“Why we stopped?” You asked.
“I’m going to show you how to drive” Clark smiled.
“That is cool!” You smiled big.
You and your dad switched seats. You are feeling so excited that your cheeks are hurting from smiling. He starts to tell you what to do and you follow his instructions. You are starting to drive the truck slowly
“You are doing great, Y/N,” Clark said.
“Wow, this is fun” You giggled.
You go a little fast and he tells you how to stop the car and go again. Then he made you change seats now he is driving home, and you tell him how fun it was to drive.
✬ ✫ ✯ ✫
Tal-Rho sent his army to attack the town. Everyone is starting to panic and trying to get out of town. Clark went to fight Tal-Rho somewhere. Your mom made you and your brothers get ready to head to the army base in town. You and your family head to the truck but Tal-Rho’s army arrives.
“Stay away from us,” Lois said.
“Mom,” You said.
You are feeling scared and they are feeling scared also.
“Stay away from us!” You yelled.
You run towards the person to punch them, but they push you hard towards the ground. You want to prove that you are strong but the person was going to attack Jon but Jon stepped in and got hurt, the enemy used heat vision to hurt your brother. Jon fell to the ground and he was bleeding fast you ran towards him.
“Jon!” You cried out.
You touch his stomach and you see the blood on your hand. Your heart is racing faster and you start to cry.
“Jon, I’m sorry! I-I didn't want you to get hurt. I'm sorry!” You cried out.
Lois and everyone noticed a magic aura surrounding your body.
“Mom, what is going on?” Jordan asked.
“What are you doing to him!?” Lois yelled at them.
“We are not doing that to him,” He said.
Your eyes changed colors then you yelled, then a powerful magic blast and you hit the enemies. They passed out and your magic from your hands went to your brother’s body and he is starting to get healed. Jon looks at you then the magic disappears. Lois helped you and Jon stand up then she hugged you and your brother.
“What just happened?” Jordan asked.
“We will figure that out later, now we have to go,” Lois said.
Your mom took you and your brothers to the army base in town. Your brothers are looking at you strangely and they start to ask questions, but you don't know how to answer them.
Clark arrived at the base with the suit on. You and your brothers don't know yet that your father is Superman. Everyone knows that you are a huge fan of Superman. You have some posters and action figures in your bedroom. You run towards him and you are smiling
“I’m a big fan” You smiled.
“Oh… um thanks for being a fan” Clark smiled.
“I can't believe I'm really meeting you” You happily said.
“Superman we need to talk,” Sam said.
He followed your grandfather to a private area and Lois is there. They start to talk about what is going on.
“What do you mean, Y/N has powers?” Clark asked.
“Not the same powers as you. It seemed powers like John Constantine, would have but his powers actually appeared all over his body. Jon was hurt but he saved him” Lois said.
“How did he even get magic?” Clark asked.
“I have no idea, I thought you would know. Go change, the boys need you right now” Lois said.
“It will be okay,” Clark said.
Clark hugged his wife and kissed her on the lips. Clark tells Sam, what Tal-Rho wants to do. They talked for a while then Clark changed clothes then went to see you and your brothers. You start to tell him what happened and Clark asks questions about the powers, but you don't know what to say. Then Clark went to talk with Jon and he hugged his son tightly.
——-
You are lying in your bed and your dad walked in. He sits on the edge of the bed and before he can say a word, you said something first.
“Are you and mom going to send me away?” You asked.
“What makes you think that we would send you away?” Clark asked.
You sit up and you struggle to say something at first, but he waits for you to say something.
“Because I have powers and it's my fault that Jon got hurt,” You said in a low voice.
“Y/N, we love you and we will never send you away. You are our son and we will never abandon you. And it's not your fault that Jon got hurt. He doesn't blame you, Y/N. This is new to us and we will get through this together” Clark smiled.
“Thanks, dad” You said.
Your dad hugged you tight and you believe what he said to you.
“Go to sleep, it's late,” Clark said.
“I’m not tired,” You said.
“Nice, try. Y/N, go to sleep it's written on your face that you are tired” Clark said
“Goodnight,” You said.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Clark said.
You lie down and you watch your dad turn off the light and leave. You close your eyes and you start to fall asleep.
✬ ✫ ✯ ✫
Clark just told you and your brothers that he is Superman. He picked up a truck, Jon and Jordan were in shock but not you.
“Y/N, you don't seem impressed,” Lois said.
“I saw dad, use his powers before and I saw his suit in the closet. The glasses are not a good disguise” You said.
“How come you didn't say anything?” Jordan asked.
“You and Jon wouldn't believe me. One time, I saw dad use his ice breath to put out the fire in the barn. I don't want to wear my underwear on the outside, no offense dad” You said.
“Y/N, I’m not asking you to wear your underwear on the outside. So that means, I have magic and I have the same powers as you?” You said.
“So, cool I have the same powers like dad” Jon grinned.
“Do I have powers?” Jordan asked
“We don't know yet,” Lois said.
“Sorry, I’m late I had to deal with something in hell,” John Constantine said.
He appeared through a magic portal. Clark introduced John to you and your brothers. Then John lights his cigarette and he stares at you.
“Why is he here?” You asked.
“He has magic and he will people with it. We don't know anything about magic and we thought that he could help you” Clark said.
“He is old and smells bad,” You said.
“Y/N, don't say that. That is rude” Lois said.
Your brothers couldn't help to laugh.
“And you still wet the bed,” John said.
“Whatever, old man,” You said.
“You two be nice. And try not to go hard on my son” Clark said.
“I can't promise anything. Let's get started” John said
Your family watches John use his magic. You try to use your magic but nothing is coming out of your hands. But he laughed then he hit you with your magic and you fell to the ground.
“John! I told you not to be hard on my son!” Clark yelled.
John used his magic to stop your parents from interfering.
“I know what I'm doing!” John yelled.
“Don’t hurt them!” You yelled.
You are walking forward towards him. Then a powerful magic arua starts to come out of your hands. Then everyone witnessed a dark magic book appear in front of you. It turned to the page on what magic to use
“How did you make that book come to you?” John asked.
You read the magic words and used the magic to hurt John. But he was quick to block your magic with his magic. You tried again but he blocked it again. Then he stopped and he tried to get the book but the book moved closer to you.
“Boy, you do have any idea what book you have!?” John said very loud.
“No. It's my first time seeing it” You said.
“That book is called Darkhold and it's connected to you. Study that book from start to end. contained spells, formulas, and information on how to create machines to harness energy from other dimensions, Study the book” John said.
“Wow, that is a lot,” You said.
You hold the book and you won't let him read it. John explained what kind of magic you have to your parents. Lois isn't happy about you having chaos magic and she doesn't want you to have magic. But she won't stop loving you and Clark will feel the same way. Later, John teaches you how to summon your magic and how to control it.
———-
You haven't been studying the Darkhold magic book. You are playing catch with your brothers in the barn. You and Jon are trying to help Jordan activate his powers. Jordan tried to pick the tractor but he couldn't do it.
“I guess i don't have super strength,” Jordan said
“Try throwing the football far?” You said.
“I can try,” Jordan said.
Jon laughed because he knew that Jordan couldn't throw the football.
“I can throw a football,” Jordan said
“Yeah, right. But go ahead and you will miss” Jon laughed.
You throw the football at your brother but with force. He didn't catch the ball and the ball went through the wall.
“Mom and dad are going to ground you forever,” Jon said.
“Why you didn't catch the ball!?” You yelled.
“You didn't throw it straight!” Jordan yelled.
You tried to use your magic to fix the hole, but you opened a portal for a few seconds but it closed.
“What was that!?” Jon yelled
“I don't know, I’m still figuring out my powers,” You said.
Again you used your magic and you fixed the hole. You are smiling about it because you won't get in trouble. But you started to play with your brothers again, they kept throwing the ball at each other so you wouldn't catch it. But you used your magic to catch the ball and you are happy about it.
“That’s cheating,” Jon said.
“You are just slow” You teased
They started to chase you and you started to run fast. Lois and Clark are outside talking and you run toward them, but Jon uses his speed to catch up to you. He tried to get the ball but you won't let go, then Clark and Lois made him let go. He got in trouble but not you and they made you and your brothers go back inside the house.
#superman imagine#x male reader#male!reader#male reader#male reader fanfic#male reader insert#clark kent x reader#clark kent x male reader#clark Kent dad#superman x reader#superman x son#Clark Kent x son
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Sometimes it’s Best to Keep the Closet Closed… and Locked with a Kryptonite Padlock | Bruce Wayne/Batman x Reader!Magician
Synopsis: During one of their family dinners with the Kents, Bruce and Vivian unravels a dark secret that Lois and Clark keep, which also had their children pulling out the skeletons in their closets.
“Dami, look! Jon!” Valerie pointed out the window of the car towards the teenager running out of the house to greet them. “Jon!”
“Are you excited to see the Kents, Val?” Damian asked her.
Valerie nodded, “Jump out?”
At that comment, Bruce double checked the locks on the car door, making sure they were secure. Valerie was on a car seat but lately she’s figured out how to unfasten the belt and has been going around the manor pushing buttons, pulling levers, and opening doors and gates. Then there was the scare he and Vivian had when they saw their daughter climbing her crib and standing on top like a gymnast.
They both ran to her—Vivian completely forgetting about magic—to catch the girl before she fell. They later learned that Dick has been teaching her gymnastics whenever he babysat Valerie. He even built a baby-gymnastics gym in his apartment so when Valerie was around his sister would climb, jump, and hang upside down!
When Bruce told Clark and Diana about it, Clark joked: “If Dick’s teaching her gymnastics, Damian—languages, Cassandra—ballet, Duke—how to create light, I wonder what the others are teaching her.”
The first thing that came to Bruce’s mind was Jason and guns.
Then Tim and Barbara with computers and hacking.
Then Selina (she only babysat once when she insisted he and Vivian take the night off and go on a date) how to pick locks and do a proper lift.
After parking the car, Vivian went to unfasten Valerie and set her down on the Kent farm’s field. She immediately ran, resembling the Road Runner from the Looney Tunes Show, and tackled Jon.
“Hi, Val,” Jon chuckled.
“Jon! Play?” Valerie raised her arms at him.
“Sure, Val,” Jon lifted her off the ground. “Hey Damian!”
“Jon,” Damian greeted. “Mom, Jon and I are just going to hang out in his room with Val—”
“Actually!” Jon squeaked, making the others snicker. “Maybe we could play out here instead? Where Val won’t bump into something or be scarred,” when he said the last bit, he had a pointed look at his mother.
“Right,” Jason muttered. “Completely normal. But come on, let’s go! I’ll keep an eye out.”
“Just relax, Jason,” Clark told him. “Nothing bad is going to happen here.”
“You’ll never know!” Jason said as he joined Damian, Jon and Valerie walking towards the barn.
“I guess we’ll be helping with dinner,” Vivian told Lois. “But not you!” She told Dick and Tim and Bruce, “I love you—all of you but you are not going in the kitchen.”
Dick and Tim only smiled and said, “We feel the love, Mom.”
“Come on, let’s just find something to do. Chores?” Dick asked Clark.
“Not much, but I was chopping wood earlier.”
“We got it.”
As the Waynes unpacked the cooler and the bag of ingredients they brought over for the family dinner, Alfred went with Johnathan and Martha Kent to fish, leaving Bruce and Vivian to help in preparing dinner for everyone. Tonight was one of the planned nights where the two families would come together in the Kent farm, where they are free from the city and the watchful eye of the public, and be themselves. It’s one of their most awaited “appointments” too since they get to be together without the excuse of having to face some world dominating alien or god about to destroy the world or the universe or the cosmos.
Just a normal family dinner.
Well, as normal as it could be…
~ * ~
Dinner finished, Alfred, Jonathan and Martha went out to the patio to enjoy the night air, Dick and the others helped in cleaning up and washing the dishes, leaving Vivian, Bruce, Clark and Lois to relax in the living room drinking wine.
Well, all of them were drinking wine but for Bruce who stuck with his ginger ale.
“You’re wasting good wine, Bruce,” Lois said as she watched Vivian transform his glass to his usual drink. “Why bother having expensive wine in the cellar if you’re not going to drink it?”
“It’s a collection of the family for generations. I only bring it out for special occasions… usually it’s Alfred and Vivian who drinks it,” answered Bruce.
“I’ll make sure to remember to pour you a glass of water so Vivian can do a reverse miracle for you.”
Jon appeared bringing the cheese board that Wayne brought along earlier. As he placed the board on the coffee table, and right before he left, Jon looked at his parents for a moment, about to say something but then left as quickly as he could with a face deep red and one that Vivian and Bruce noticed. In fact, they noticed it the moment they arrived at the Kent farm.
"What's going on with you two? It looks like Jon’s avoiding you and you're avoiding him... was there a fight before we came?" Vivian asked.
"Not exactly, " Clark embarrassingly said. "Have you both ever... have the boys ever found anything of yours that they're not supposed to?"
Bruce paused before he could have a drink. "That serious?"
"Yeah."
Grinning, Vivian leaned forward and asked, "What did Jon find, exactly?"
Sheepishly, Clark said: "Something any kid doesn't want to know about his folks... to put it lightly."
"Come in, Clark, we're all adults here. Everyone has a dildo in their closet."
Bruce turned to her. "You do?"
"Yeah, and you know this—you saw it in my drawer."
Bruce thought long and hard about the time he saw Vivian’s toys.
“Wasn’t that the time we dated?”
“Yeah,” she shrugged.
“You still have those?!”
“Well, I had to replace them! But I still have my toys.”
Seriously, They’re talking about this now? Lois and Clark thought as they watched Bruce adjust in his seat to face Vivian and ask: "Why?"
"Well, you're not always at home, Bruce."
"Do you only use it when I'm not around? And when you mean around is that offworld?"
"Sometimes when I'm just home alone..." Vivian drank her wine. “There are nights when the Bat signal is in the sky and I’m a little…”
"I don't like where this conversation is going," Lois pointed at them.
"So, what if Jon finds a vibrator in your closet? Big deal! Unlike men, we women have to find ways to actually fill the orgasm gap, you know?"
Bruce was about to ask but then said, "we'll talk about it when we get home."
"Just tell him it's normal for Mom to have some toys… Or Dad."
"It's not that simple."
"Why? Do you have a gimp suit in your..." she saw the guilty look on their faces. "Holy shit you do."
"It's not really a gimp suit," said Lois.
"Lois!" Clark whined.
Bruce sighed, he took Vivian’s glass and drank the remaining wine in it. He was not going to talk about this sober.
"It's just a... creative version of the suit,” Lois explained. “Hey, I'm sure you two have your own creepy kinks! I'm a hundred-percent sure you got a kinky Batman suit in your closet!"
"We don't." Said Bruce.
"Because he tends to turn those to one-time use," Vivian muttered.
"Viv!"
"It's the truth. "
"That they didn't need to know!"
Lois smirked, "Well, considering we're putting it out there, I think it's only fair that we know about your skeletons in the closet... Please don't tell me there are skeletons in the closet. So, is it a slutty Batman?"
"Just Bat themed lingerie. " answered Vivian. "But the gimp suit, Lois."
"Hey, your thing is having sex in public, so you don't get to judge!"
"But neither of the boys found out about it or saw it!"
"Actually," Dick appeared with the others. Finished with the dishes. "Considering this is our topic, we have some confessions."
"You're not really discreet, the two of you," said Jason as he carried Valerie in his arms. Tim was covering her ears the entire time the conversation of the adults started.
"Jayce!" Valerie, a toddler, patted her hands on his cheeks. "Jay, Jay, Jay!"
"Yeah, I know, Val," Jason had her hanging upside down. The girl giggled.
"We can talk about this at home," Vivian sheepishly laughed.
"No, let's talk about here and now!" Said Lois. "Let it out boys, this is a safe space."
"They keep doing it at the Cave," said Damian. Plainly. "Also, just because you put the Cave on lockdown, doesn't mean it automatically turns off the comms!"
The boys cringed at the memory of the audio show they got then.
"I know that," said Bruce.
"Obviously Mom doesn't," said Damian.
"Oops?" Vivian shrugged.
"Stop doing it on the gargoyles. It makes it weird when we go there for vantage points," said Tim. "And it's weird to think Batman got a boner there too."
"Noted," Bruce muttered.
"Also, stop walking around the Manor early in the morning wearing those special pajamas," said Dick. "Just because we’re night owls doesn’t mean the mornings are safe for you to walk around wearing those… or wearing nothing at all.” He sent a pointed look at Bruce for the last part. “Do you know how many girlfriends I can't perform right because they're wearing the same thing?"
"Just admit you have erectile dysfunction, Dick," Jason teased him.
"So, it's Viviam who dresses up," Lois smirked.
Vivian playfully glared at her. "Only because I prefer Batman only wearing his cowl, and we do not have a gimp suit."
"THAT!" Jason exclaimed. "STOP THAT! IT'S DISGUSTING, AND VAL'S HERE!"
"Jason, I think Valerie’s dizzy now," said Jon.
"Oh, shit! Sorry, baby bird," Jason got her right side up again.
Face all red, Valerie babbles words that meant: "again!"
"Also, since we're putting it out there... Stop recording yourselves! And if you do, save it on another drive so that we won't find the Cave! OR DON’T LEAVE THE SEX DRIVE IN THE CAVE!”
"You made a sex tape?!" Clark exclaimed.
"Those were private," Bruce told Jason.
"It was a drive in the Cave! Was I not supposed to look into it? What if it has some shit I needed?"
“It had a sticker that had my name.”
“HOW WAS I SUPPOSED TO KNOW IT HAD YOUR SEX TAPES!”
"Then ask if you can use it!”
"Put a label on it, not your fucking name!"
"And how are they supposed to label it, Jason?" Tim asked.
"I don't know!”
“How about A Nightmare Before Christmas,” Dick shuddered at the memory of him and Jason encountering the drive.
"Hold on," Lois stopped the arguing. "So, you saw Bruce and Vivian's video. I mean, how are you going to know if you didn't, right?"
Jason hung his head low. "I wished I was dead then. You ruined my sex life for a month!" He pointed at his adoptive parents.
"Jay, Jay!" Valerie patted his cheek.
"Fine, let's hang you like a bat," Jason walked back to the kitchen and held Valerie by her ankles so she could be upside down.
“Anything else you want to put out here?” Vivian sent a pointed look at the others.
The Waynes remained silent, but then Jon spoke: “I appreciate you both trying to keep it down, but I want to put it out here… Kryptonian hearing. If I can hear someone calling for help from the other side of town, I can hear you both in the other room.” After that, Jon went back to the kitchen. “Oh, and the gimp suit is in the spare room closet.”
With that revelation, Vivian was running down the hall with Lois at her tail.
“GET BACK HERE, PRYOR!” Loise called out. “NO FAIR! STOP USING MAGIC!”
“IN A FIGHT, YOU GOTTA USE ALL YOUR RESOURCES!” Vivian laughed as she opened a portal for her and closed it before Lois could get through.
“VIVIAN, OPEN THE DOOR!”
“NOT UNTIL I SEE IT!”
As their wives went on with the chase and Lois threatened to kick down the door, Bruce and Clark could only sigh and drank their drinks.
“Family dinners, huh?” Clark chuckled.
“It’s always during family dinners,” Bruce sighed.
“BRUCE, IT’S ACTUALLY HERE!” Vivian laughed loudly. A portal appeared before the two men and it showed Vivian at the other side with the closet wide open for them to see the kinky Superman costume.
“CLOSET THAT!” Lois kicked down the door and tackled Vivian.
The portal closed and all they could hear were their wives wrestling from the floor above.
“Really, Clark?” Bruce turned to him.
“You don’t hear me commenting on the many times I was a witness to your third degree of PDA, Bruce.”
“I can say we’re even now, I guess.”
~ * ~
Upon returning to Wayne Manor, Vivian and Bruce set Valerie in bed and said their goodnights to everyone else before retreating to their bedroom. In the bathroom, as Vivian took a shower, Bruce was doing his evening routine and was about to get the shaving cream from his personal drawer when he saw Vivian’s vanity drawer beside his own.
He’s opened that drawer multiple times whenever she would ask him to hand her something but he never saw those toys.
So where does she keep them?
Did she put a secret compartment there or something?
Curious, he opened the drawer and—
Nothing.
Just the usual creams and ointments she uses.
“Do you really think I’ll leave them there?” Vivian opened the shower door and was smirking at him. “If you want to know so badly, all you have to do is ask.”
Bruce closed the drawer, removed the towel around his waist, and joined her in the shower. “Where?”
“In my lingerie drawer,” she admitted. “You never really open that one.”
“So, why have them?” Bruce turned off the shower and had his wife against the wall.
“There are nights when I don’t want to bother you because you’re busy, so I just,” she laughed. “Pop one in and take care of it myself.”
“I’ll admit, I’m a little bothered by that.” He had his knee between her legs and his thigh pressed on her sex.
“Like you don’t take care of this,” she palmed his growing erection. “Yourself during your long cold showers.”
“You’re asleep and I didn’t want to bother you.”
“The same goes for me.”
“But it still bothers me because only I should make you come, Viv. And feel this kind of pleasure,” He brushed his fingers between her folds.
“Would it,” she bit back a moan. “Would it make you feel better if I said I was looking at those videos of us when I do it?”
“A little, but still… don’t I always make sure you come?” He leaned down to kiss her neck, his stubbles brushing against her skin only made a twisting knot in her stomach turn and the heat between her legs become even more wet.
“You always do,” she gasped when he pushed a finger inside her.”
“Maybe it’s a little bit my fault, I have been neglecting my wife for some time now and that has her resorting to toys.”
“A strong word. I wouldn’t say you’ve been neglecting me, you’re a… fuck… you’re a good husband, Bruce,” she met his lips and kissed them feverishly. “We’re just too damn busy.”
“We’re not tonight,” He pulled out his fingers and lifted his wife from the ground, making her wrap her legs around him as he walked them out of the bathroom and to their bed. Not caring if they’re wet from the shower. “After tonight, you’re getting rid of those.”
“Only the dildo,” she told him. “If you agree to stop destroying the kinky-little Bat suit that we like to play with.”
Bruce paused and looked down at her. “Fine, get rid of that, you can keep the vibrator. And I’ll stop destroying the Bat-kink suit.”
“Deal. You’re lucky I didn’t tell them that you also wear a kinky Bat-suit when we have sex.”
“Thanks for that,” he muttered between their deep and passionate kisses.
~ Extra Ending ~
It was late, rather it was early in the morning. Too early if Dick were asked. That night, he decided to sleepover at the Manor after a mission with Batgirl and the others. Everyone seems to either have gone to bed or were still asleep since the Manor was still quiet. But to be sure, he went to Valerie’s nursery to check on her.
He found his sister asleep and was about to fall off the bed with all the twists and turns she’s made. And for some reason her blanket turned to a diaper.
“Okay, Val, let’s fix you,” Dick muttered and detangled the child from her blanket, placed her at the very center where he had pillows around her—to keep her from falling off the bed— and tuck her in.
“Dick,” Valerie said as she opened her still sleepy eyes. “Mowning?”
“Yeah, but it’s a Saturday so go back to sleep.”
“M’kay,” she yawned and was snoring almost immediatley.
Leaving her room, Dick was just about to close the door when he saw it.
Just about to leave the master bedroom, Bruce froze when he came face to face with Dick at the hall while wearing only the cowl, his spandex trousers, and holding a pair of bat-cuffs.
“Right,” Dick finally closed the door of Valerie’s nursery. “I’m going to bed.”
“I’m going back in,” Bruce told him.
“Don’t,” Dick shuddered. “Don’t say anything right now because everything that comes out of your mouth has a double meaning and—you know what, let's just forget that this ever happened.”
“Agreed,” Bruce went back inside, and Dick was sure to have heard Vivian say: “I thought you were going to get rope?” Before the door closed.
When he got to his old bedroom, Dick jumped in bed, buried his face into his pillow and screamed loudly as he could.
#dc fanfic#fanfic#batman fanfiction#batfam#batman x oc#bruce wayne x oc#batfam fanfic#batsis#batsis oc#batmom#batmom oc
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➤ find something worth saving (it's all for the taking)
CHAPTER NINE: WARMTH
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SUMMARY ↳ Gotham's getting colder. You think your life is getting warmer. Nightwing grins, flipping his escrima sticks with practiced ease. "Couldn't miss out on Gotham's winter wonderland, could I? Plus, I wanted to visit my favorite bug.” “Spiders aren’t bugs, they’re arachnids.” “That’s literally the same thing.” “It’s literally not.” pairing: jon kent x gn!reader x damian wayne warnings: none, i think wc: 3.4k

Snow comes early in Gotham, so by December it’s mostly snowing everyday. It feels like you’re in New York again, when the Christmas lights start appearing on trees and snowmen litter the parks. Gotham, true to its nature, stays colorless for the most part. However, Gotham Square provides quite the merry site. Your suit reflects the bright lights as you swing by.
Despite the holiday cheer, you can't let your guard down. Gotham's criminals have a knack for exploiting the city's festivities, and tonight is no exception. You notice a group of people gathered around a shop window, watching a live performance of animatronic figures reenacting a Christmas story. You land silently on a nearby rooftop, scanning the crowd below.
Karen’s voice crackles to life. "[Name], there's been a report of suspicious activity near the old ice rink. It seems someone is trying to steal the charitable donations collected for the orphanage."
"Got it," you reply, already changing direction. You launch yourself into the night, the cold wind biting through your suit. The streets blur beneath you as you make your way to the ice rink, the glow of Gotham Square fading behind you.
When you arrive, you find a group of thugs attempting to break into the donation booth. They are armed and clearly not expecting any resistance on a night like this. You drop down silently behind them.
"Planning to ruin Christmas for the kids, are we?" you hum, voice distorted and menacing. The thugs spin around, startled, but it's already too late for them.
You make quick work of the first few, your training and instincts taking over. A punch here, a kick there, and they are down before they know what hit them. One of the thugs tries to flee, but a well-aimed web takes him down, his body hitting the wall with a thud.
As you tie up the last of the unconscious criminals, you hear the distant chime of church bells, signaling the hour. You look up, seeing the first flakes of snow beginning to fall from the sky. You feel a sense of childlike wonder as the tiny white stars fall from the sky. You secure the donation booth, ensuring that the funds will be safe for the children who need them.
friendly behind you
“Aw, you beat me to it.”
Nightwing leans casually against the wall, escrima sticks in hand. You give Nightwing a nod, acknowledging his familiar presence. "Just cleaning up Gotham's holiday mess," you reply. "Didn't expect you to be in town."
Nightwing grins, flipping his escrima sticks with practiced ease. "Couldn't miss out on Gotham's winter wonderland, could I? Plus, I wanted to visit my favorite bug.”
“Spiders aren’t bugs, they’re arachnids.”
“That’s literally the same thing.”
“It’s literally not.”
Whenever Nightwing is in town (which seems to be more than usual) he takes it upon himself to accompany you whenever he can find you. You mostly just let him do his own thing. "Semantics aside, looks like you've got everything under control here," Nightwing remarks, glancing around at the subdued criminals. “So… how have you been?”
You’re about to swing away, but his question confuses you. “What?”
He scratches the back of his head. “Well, how are you doing? Is work good? Or do you go to school?”
He watches as the eyes of your suit deadpan at him. “...Yeah? Life’s good, I guess?” you reply, appalled.
“That’s good.” he beams. Then he inspects your suit like it’s personally offended him. “Are you sure that thing can keep you warm?”
“Are you sure that thing can keep you warm?” you sass, gesturing to his skin tight uniform. “There’s literally a built-in heater, I’m fine.”
He nods, looking to the side. It’s silent for a while, leaving you with your thoughts. Is he seriously trying to… parent you? You’re used to Steve or even Bucky mother henning you, not Dick Grayson. Don’t get it wrong, you like and respect the hell out of him. But he literally has no business trying to coddle you into his arms. It just makes no sense to you
“Well… it’s been fun,” you cough, turning around and webbing a building. “Bye,” and then your off. Nightwing sighs as his eyes follow you. As you disappear into the Gotham skyline, he looks down, twirling his escrima sticks absentmindedly.
“I see B’s adoption tendencies are hereditary,” chuckles Oracle in his ear.
“Shut up,” he hisses.

“Maybe I should just get him a dog or something,” bemoaned Jon, laid dramatically across your couch.
“Pretty sure someone will do that already,” comes your reply.
Jon likes hanging around in your apartment. You wonder if his parents are curious as to where he is all the time. He’s even started leaving some of his sweaters around (that you definitely don’t steal, no way). He groaned dramatically, rolling over to look at you upside down. "You're supposed to be supportive," he mumbled, voice muffled by the cushions.
Jon has decided he needs your council in getting Damian a Christmas present. “Well, you shouldn’t get him anything to do with, like, chores or work.” You walk over and sit on his stomach. He can take it, he’s a big boy. He curls an arm under his head and rests on it. “That’s gift-giving number one.”
“What can I give him that he couldn’t just buy anyway?” he huffs.
“Something personal,” you hum, brushing his curls out of his face. “Something custom, even. He likes art. Make him something yourself.”
Jon perks up a bit at your suggestion, contemplating the idea. "Like what? I'm not exactly an artist."
"You don't have to be a Picasso," you reassure him with a grin. "Just something that shows you put thought into it. Maybe a sketch, or even a painting if you’re feeling bold. It's the personal touch that matters."
He considers it, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. "Yeah, I could do that. Maybe a memory or something, like the time he tried to cook and set the kitchen on fire."
You choke out a laugh. “What? You never told me about that!”
Jon blushes slightly, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, well, it was… an interesting evening. Alfred wasn't too pleased."
"I can only imagine," you chuckle, picturing Damian attempting to cook. "That could definitely make something.”
“I’ll think on it,” decides Jon, sitting up and tugging you so you sit on his lap. After the whole Ivy situation, he was really awkward around you for a while. He kept stuttering over his words and wouldn’t look you in the eye. Eventually he got comfortable again, really comfortable. You can barely be around him without him having a hand on you or an arm around you. “What will you get him?”
"Something that doesn't involve kitchen disasters," you reply with a playful grin, settling comfortably on his lap. Jon rolls his eyes good-naturedly, his arm finding its familiar place around your shoulders.
"You're no fun," he teases, squeezing you gently. "But seriously, what are you planning to get him?"
You lean back against him, considering the question. "I haven’t really thought about it. To be honest, I didn’t even think he would expect one from me.”
Jon hums thoughtfully, running his fingers across your shoulder absentmindedly. "Why wouldn’t he expect one from you? You’re his friend.”
You guess he’s right. You and Damian talk, go out of each others way to spend time with one another (even if Damian would rather choke than admit it). It’s hard figuring out where you fit in this world.
"Yeah, we're friends," you murmur, more to yourself than to Jon. "But sometimes I wonder if I really belong here, you know?" You didn’t mean to say that out loud.
Jon's fingers pause in their absent-minded tracing along your shoulder. He shifts slightly, turning to look at you with a gentle expression. "Of course you belong here, [Your Name]. You’re kind and funny and brave. You don’t have to be anything but yourself.”
Your heart feels like it’s about to leap out of your chest and hug his. “I’m sure you’re just feeling homesick,” he reassures. Oh, he has no idea.
“I know Gotham is a tough place but… I’m here for you, and Damian’s here for you,” he pauses, “...if you want… I can take you up the Queens…?” Surely he doesn’t mean flying you there? It takes a couple of hours to get to Queens from here, but he can take you there in an instant. However, that also means revealing to you his secret. Christ, it’s like he’s not even trying to hide it.
Regardless, it wouldn’t be your Queens. Actually, seeing it might do more harm than good. “No, it’s okay. Thanks, though.”
He looks at you with the most earnest puppy eyes you’ve seen. It tugs at your heartstrings, his concern and offer of support clear in his gaze.
"Thanks, Jon," you manage, your voice soft with gratitude and a touch of wistfulness. "I appreciate it."
He nods, sensing your reluctance to delve deeper into the topic. Jon's hand finds yours, squeezing it gently in a gesture of solidarity. "Anytime, [Your Name]. You know that."
Jon's earnestness and the warmth of his hand in yours fill you with a mix of comfort and a slight pang of guilt. You appreciate his concern and the genuine offer of support, yet part of you hesitates to fully accept it.
“I’ll figure it out,” you declare, referring to Damian’s gift. “And it’ll definitely outshine yours,” you tease.
Jon grins, and squeezes you close, making you squawk in offense. He blows raspberries in your neck, the feeling of it making you curl in on yourself, but regardless, makes you happy.

“Give me some tunes, Karen.”
Music starts playing from the speakers of your laptop, courtesy of Karen. You hum and rock as you turn a screw. The particle accelerator is looking good and proper now. It’s begun to take shape, winding around the space the more you build it. Sipping your death brew, you make sure the screw is tight before throwing the wrench somewhere.
“Explain to me one more time?” comes Victoria’s voice from your phone. You can see from the facetime that she’s in her pajamas, ready to go to bed.
“It’s a new element. It’s gonna power all my future creations,” you say. “Basically, this bad boy,” you pat the accelerator, “is going to synthesize it by accelerating charged particles to high speeds so that they collide with each other. The atoms will fuse, making the new element.”
“How… did you even come up with this?”
“I didn’t,” you sniff. “My dad’s dad did. He just gave me the blueprints.”
“And what will you name it?”
“Well… my dad planned to name it badassium. So that’s what it’ll be called,” you declare, grabbing your phone.
She raises a brow at the name but has no further comment. “Why don’t you… patent this or something?”
“The idea is to stay discreet, my dear.” You take a seat and kick up your legs. “Besides, I’d have a hard time choosing whether to patent it as [Name] Stark or Spinnerette.”
She snorts. "Right," she says, stifling a yawn. "Just don't blow yourself up, okay?"
"I'll do my best," you reply with a grin. "Sleep tight, Tori. I'll keep you updated."
"Goodnight," she responds, her voice already trailing off. You end the call and set your phone down, turning your attention back to the particle accelerator.
You stretch, feeling the strain of hours spent hunched over. Just as you're about to call it a night, Karen's voice breaks the silence. "Incoming message from ‘please get this boy some brown contacts’."
You wipe your hands on a rag and pick up your phone, opening the message. It's a selfie of Jon and Damian, both smiling (well, Jon is smiling, Damian looks mildly amused). You respond with a simple selfie you took earlier. He hearts the message.
As night falls, you suit up once again, ready for another patrol. The streets are quieter tonight, the snowfall muffling the usual sounds of the city. You swing through the air, feeling a sense of peace and purpose. As you land silently on a nearby rooftop, you hear a faint noise. Your senses sharpen, and you move cautiously towards the sound.
You find a small group of children, huddled together, trying to build a snowman. Their laughter is infectious, and for a moment, you just watch, a smile tugging at your lips.
One of the kids looks up and spots you. "Look! It's Spinnerette!" The others follow his gaze, their faces lighting up with excitement. You drop down to join them, your landing soft and graceful.
"Hi there," you greet them, your voice friendly and warm. "Need any help with that snowman?"
dark and brooding watching
The kids nod eagerly, and you spend the next few minutes helping them build their snowman. When it's done, they cheer, admiring their handiwork. "Thank you, Spinner!" one of the kids says, his eyes shining with gratitude.
"Anytime," you reply, feeling a warmth in your heart. "Now, you little rascals should go home. It’s dark out.”
They whine but listen, scurrying off into the nearby apartments. You watch as they make it inside, they’re parents (who were keeping a vigilant eye) wave to you as they close the door.
You turn to look over your shoulder slightly. “You gonna come out or are you gonna stand there all day brooding?”
“You’re good with children,” comes a low gruff. The man, the myth, the legend himself; Batman steps out of the shadows, approaching you.
“They’re not very complicated creatures,” is your dry response.
Batman steps closer, his presence imposing but familiar. "No, but they require patience and understanding," he replies, his voice softer than usual.
You shrug, "Guess I've had some practice."
He studies you for a moment, his expression unreadable behind the cowl. "You've adapted well to Gotham," he finally says. "It's not an easy place to thrive."
"Guess I had to," you reply, matching his tone. "This city needs all the help it can get."
Batman nods, his eyes briefly scanning the surroundings before returning to you. "I saw Nightwing earlier. He mentioned you had things under control at the ice rink."
"Yeah, just some losers trying to ruin Christmas," you say, dismissively. "Nothing I couldn't handle."
He hums, saying nothing more. "You… handled it well," Batman acknowledges. Woah, this is a moment in history, take a picture.
You nod, having nothing better to say. Internally, you’re giddy at the praise. The two of you stand in silence, looking at the city as the cold air rushes by.
After a beat, Batman shifts slightly, as if considering his next words carefully. "I've been monitoring your progress," he starts, his voice low but not unkind. "You've shown potential. But Gotham tests everyone, even those with the best intentions."
You look at him, catching his gaze behind the cowl. There’s a weight to his words, a reminder of the city's relentless nature. "I know," you reply simply, understanding the implicit warning. Gotham doesn’t forgive mistakes easily, and the path you’ve chosen is littered with challenges.
Batman nods once, his approval implicit yet unstated. "Keep your focus. And remember, sometimes the greatest strength is knowing when to ask for help." His tone is almost paternal, a rare glimpse of advice from a man who often operates in silence and shadows.
You can’t help but snort. “Gee, Bats. If you wanted my secret identity all you had to do was ask.”
“Are you saying you’d tell if you asked?”
“I’m saying… we can be grateful for one another.”
Batman regards you silently for a moment, his expression unreadable as always. Then, with a slight nod, he turns to leave, disappearing into the shadows as effortlessly as he emerged. The night wears on, and you continue your patrol through Gotham's wintry streets. The city seems to hold its breath under the blanket of snow, a rare moment of calm amidst its usual chaos.

“It’s no wonder cats were worshiped in ancient times,” Damian muses, watching Nari stretch lazily on the windowsill. He’s decided to grace you with his presence this fine afternoon, claiming he had nothing better to do. He’s a welcome addition to your apartment.
Damian, reclining on your couch with an air of regal indifference, watches Nari the cat with a mixture of curiosity and mild wonder. His expression softens as Nari pads over to him, sniffing his outstretched hand cautiously before allowing him to scratch behind her ears.
You lean against the kitchen counter, watching the scene with a small smile. "He seems to like you," you comment casually, taking a sip of your drink.
"Hmph," Damian grunts noncommittally, but his hand continues to stroke Nari's fur with a practiced touch. "Animals are simple creatures. They respond to consistency."
You raise an eyebrow, amused by his attempt at nonchalance. "So, are you here just to critique my cat's taste in company, or is there something else on your mind?"
Damian pauses, his gaze flicking briefly towards you before returning to Nari. "Tt. Jon was bothering me about the insipid holiday tradition that is Christmas."
You chuckle softly, knowingly. "Ah, Jon and his enthusiasm for festive cheer. What did he want?"
"He insisted on exchanging gifts," Damian mutters, as if the concept itself is offensive. "As if material possessions hold any significance."
"Well, it's the thought that counts, right?" you offer, setting down your mug and joining Damian on the couch. Nari purrs contentedly as you scratch under her chin. “You’re telling me your family doesn’t do Christmas?”
“Of course we do,” he scoffs. “But I do not care much for it. But Jon seems to think it matters.”
"Well, he's not entirely wrong," you say, keeping your tone light. "Gift-giving can be meaningful if it's done thoughtfully. It's a chance to show someone you care about them, to give them something they might appreciate."
Damian regards you thoughtfully, his expression unreadable. "And what would you consider a thoughtful gift, then?"
You smile. "It depends on the person," you begin, tapping your chin in mock contemplation. "For someone like Jon, maybe something that reflects his interests—maybe a new comic he hasn't read yet, or something related to his hobbies. Or, you could make something yourself. That usually adds a personal touch." It’s similar to the advice you gave Jon.
He considers your words, nodding slowly. "I see," he murmurs, as if filing away your suggestions for future reference. “What would someone like you like?” he asks casually.
You think. What would you like? Any material stuff you’d want has no use to you now, and you can’t exactly ask him for stuff pertaining to your little project. Actually… it’s been a while since you’ve wished for something material. Tony catered to your every whim and desire, you never wanted for long.
“A memory,” you decide, nodding. “Something I can experience and remember fondly.”
Damian listens attentively, his expression thoughtful. He seems to mull over your words, considering how to fulfill your request for a memorable gift. After a moment of silence, he nods decisively.
Nari, sensing the relaxed atmosphere, curls up contentedly in Damian's lap, earning a surprised glance from him before he tentatively strokes her fur again.
“Perhaps it is a good time to mention that my father insists I invite you to Christmas this year.”
"Your father?" You blink in surprise at Damian's unexpected news. Bruce Wayne, inviting you to his family's Christmas celebration? It's a surreal thought (and probably not good news). "I... didn't expect that."
Damian shrugs nonchalantly, though there's a hint of something unreadable in his eyes. "He's made it clear that you're... welcome."
"Are you... comfortable with that?" you ask cautiously, glancing at Damian for any sign of discomfort.
"I've grown accustomed to your presence," Damian replies evenly, his gaze steady. "Besides, Father insists."
The tension in your shoulders eases slightly at his reassurance. Bruce Wayne inviting you to join his family's celebration—it's a gesture that speaks volumes, even if Damian's demeanor remains somewhat guarded. You're not entirely sure what to make of it, but the prospect of spending Christmas with the Wayne's is undeniably intriguing.
"Alright," you finally say, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Tell your father... I appreciate the invitation."
Damian nods once, his expression giving away nothing more than a hint of curiosity. "Very well."
You lean back against the couch, content to let the conversation drift into a comfortable silence. Damian continues to pet Nari absentmindedly, his thoughts seemingly elsewhere. As the afternoon light fades into dusk, you let the pressure of your situation dwindle away, content to live in the moment.

notes:
reader when dick shows affection: this is vile what is this
dick: :C
-
jon ready to risk it all for reader: hey so im superboy but nevermind that let me die for you pls
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The Assistant 13
Warnings: this fic includes noncon/rape, cheating, creep behaviour, violence, anger. These warnings are not exhaustive and some triggers may not be specified for plot reasons.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: As an assistant at the Daily Planet, you’re rarely noticed. Until you are.
Characters: Clark Kent
Note: We came back.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3
Love you all like Lord Farquaad loves unnecessary vowels. Take care. 💖
🖊🖊🖊
Your new life is more of a death. The old you is dead and can never be again. Not quite a true death, it’s a purgatory you’re slogging through, waiting for the ultimate end.
Your first days are bleak. The house is filled with a stagnant pall as you wile away the hours playing your role. It’s easier when you pretend you're a character in a book, just like you did as a girl. When you became Elizabeth Bennet or one of the Pevensie kids. You escape in your mind because there is no other way out.
A routine quickly falls into place. You wake up, though sleep is sparse and hewn in wretched nightmares that mirror reality, and wait until Clark stirs. He never rouses very long after you. You open yourself to him, laying on your back, legs splayed as he grunts and ruts.
Tender, you dress in one of the thin dresses he collected for you and you go to work. You cook him breakfast. Sometimes, he takes you back to bed after he eats. Others, he pins you to the counter or the table. Then you clean up; the table, the dishes, and yourself.
When he stays, he sits and reads. You hover around him, busying yourself with a broom or just watching him, weighing the minutes. Not yet, not yet.
Lunch comes and you take care of that too. Then him. His appetite never wavers. The heavy pain sticks in your pelvis but he can’t think the limp is from anything more than the chain tugging at your ankle.
You pace, restless and wait. That’s all you do. Wait. For the first chance or his next whim. Whichever comes before the other.
You stand at the window and watch the wildlife. You feel him watching you in kind. When he leaves, he closes the shutters, latching them tight on the outside. Locking you in like a toy in a chest. A doll he can pick up to play with whenever he likes.
Dinnertime. Another meal. You’re not very hungry but you make yourself eat. If he lets you have a bath, you can puke it back up when he goes to get a towel. That is the last marker of time before bedtime…
Sleep is not won without a final surrender.
That day, as you wrap potatoes to cook in the oven, all noise seems louder, every movement more strenuous. The staleness in the air is suffocating. Your ears buzz from the constant silence. You crinkle the foil around a potato and drop it, rubbing your lobes.
You keep your hands on your ears and stare at the counter. You could scoop out your brains with a spoon. Are you going crazy? Your head feels itchy on the inside and you would be all to happy to scratch right through the bone.
“Honey?” Clark’s voice ripples through the air. “Is something wrong?”
You close your eyes and cringe. You drag your hands away and wrap the other potato, wincing at the aluminum's raucous wrinkle. He stands and you shudder. He’s coming close.
“It’s too quiet,” you say at last.
He nears and looms beside you. You put the potatoes aside and drag over the pan of marinating steak. His large hand rests on the counter.
“Can I help?” He offers. You shake your head.
“No, thanks, I got it, honey,” you reach to touch his hand. You just want him to back off. Sweat stains your skin as his proximity sets you on fire.
He leans in to kiss your crown, his hand dancing down your back. He gropes your ass and growls. His hand lingers and you brace yourself. It isn’t unlike him to interrupt.
“Love you,” he grits before he draws away.
You let your breath out in short spurts. You don’t want him to hear the relief in you. Your thighs quiver, bruised and raw. You carry on without pause. Keep yourself busy and he’ll let you be. For now.
🖊
The next day, Clark leaves you. You don’t know what he does when he isn’t there. Sometimes he brings back groceries or little things he’s forgotten. Others, he’s gone for hours and returns only with stress in his shoulders. You try not to think too much about what happens outside these walls, that only makes them close in tighter.
When he comes back, just around lunch time, he presents you a radio. An orange and black radio you’ve seen used by those in remote regions. He sets it on the counter as he flicks it on and adjusts the knob, searching for a station through the crackle. You cross your arms as you watch around his elbow.
The stringy tune comes through and warbles against the static. The music soothes you. You only realise then, you’d never thought you’d hear it again. Clark turns to you as you stare at the speakers.
“Do you like it?” He asks.
You nod and unstick your tongue from the roof of your mouth, “yes, thank you.”
Is this all you have? A radio?
“Do you… wanna dance?” He murmurs shyly.
You look at him. You reach for his hand in acceptance. Nothing he gives comes without a price. He takes you into his arms wordlessly, his face brightening as he leads you into a slow shuffle.
‘I bless the day I found you I want to stay around you And so I beg you Let it be me’
The song is older. You’re not sure who it is. By your guess, it’s even older than your parents… you know you won’t see them again. Even if you do get your chance, you can never go back to the life before this.
“I remember the first day I saw you,” Clark says as he pulls your head to rest against his chest, “you were wearing that little pink plaid dress…”
His words hang in the air. You remember the day too. The day you thought you’d figure it all out. You’d pay your dues as an assistant, work your way up to a writer one day, and maybe, in your wildest dreams, an editor…
“I love you, honey,” he pets your head.
“Love you too,” you eke out.
He pulls back to look down at you. You gaze up as he brings his fingertips under your chin. He leans in to kiss you and draws away reluctantly. He hums as his other hand closes around yours.
“Let’s take a bath,” he lets go of you and follows the chain to its end, unhooking it from the loop in the floor. He tugs you after him as he lets the radio play.
You let him take you into the bathroom. He’s intent on his mission. He drops the chain, the links hitting the floor heavily. You stare at it, just for a second, not too long for your heart to spike.
He bends over the tub and cranks the faucet. You watch him, fingers tingling, as he puts in the stop and holds his hand under the water’s flow. Stay calm.
You move closer to him as he undresses. You help him lift his shirt and you pet the soft hair along his torso. He turns to you, that foggy look in his eyes. You bring your hands to his pants and undo them, biting your lip as you hold his gaze.
You pull down his pants and let them fall down his thick legs. You tilt your head at the sudden thought, tweaking your ear towards the music. He reaches to stroke your chin.
“What is it, honey?” He snarls.
“This song,” you stop and listen to The Ronettes' iconic beat, “can I turn it up?”
He rolls his thumb across your chin and exhales, “sure, honey. I like this one too.”
You smile and shift your head, taking his thumb into your mouth. His eyes round as you swirl your tongue around his salty fingertip. You pop your lips off as he sighs.
“I’ll be right back.”
“Mmm, baby,” he breathes.
You turn slowly, measuring your steps and your heartbeat. You go out into the kitchen, the chain rattling with each step. You peer around, taking in the place. You hear the water swish as he lowers himself into the tub. You peek over as the end of the chain trails just outside the bathroom.
You stop by the radio and glance over your shoulder. Now. You turn up the radio, just loud enough. You bend and tug the chain inch by inch towards you, the noise disguised by the drumbeat. You coil it around your hand, allowing enough for you to walk.
You peer over at the bathroom doorway.
“I’ll bring towels,” you call over the music.
“Hurry,” he booms back as he lets out another gritty sigh, “baby, I need you.”
You turn without hesitation. This is it. You march into the front room and to the front door. Of course he wouldn’t lock it, not with the cuff on your ankle hooked to the loop. You glance over at the hook in the floor and steel yourself.
You open the door, lifting it on the hinges to keep it quiet. The radio drones behind you as you let yourself out into the cool air. You take one step, then the other, each one quicker than the last. You approach the trees and take a breath.
It’s now or never.
You plunge into the woods, your gait uneven as you run with the chain yank with each step. You don’t know where you’re going or where to go, you just need to get far away from here. You can’t live like this. You can’t die like this.
Your feet hit the forest floor, unfeeling to the jab of sharp rocks and the scratch of twigs. Don’t look back, just go, just go. You sprint until your lungs burn, until your mouth is parched and scratchy, until your limbs ache.
You stumble onto the ground and gulp. You can’t go any further. You’re too weak.
You shake on your hands and knees, fighting to catch your breath, trying to urge yourself on.
Then you hear it. A giggle. A chirpish yelp and the splash of water. People? You crawl forward towards the noise. You lift yourself to look over the overturned trunk at the edge of the incline. There’s a lake below, there’s bodies splashing through the waters, screaming and laughing.
Oh, god! You stand and throw your hand up, mustering your strength to cry out. Help!
As you open your mouth, your voice shrivels up as your throat is clamped in a vice. You're dragged back away from the drop off and turned to face your villain. Clark stands naked amid the trees, seeming as towering and thick as any of them, as he grips your neck. He lifts you off your feet, your toes dangling above the ground.
You claw at his forearm as you wheezes. Your eyes well as he glares at you, shaking with rage. The chain falls from your hand and hits the floor, weighing on your ankle. He bears his teeth and hisses.
“Why would you do this?”
You can’t speak. Your head throbs as you reach to bat at his chest, begging silently for him to release you. ‘Sorry…’ you mouth, ‘sorry…’
“I love you, sweetie, I love you so much,” his voice quakes as he squeezes tighter, “why did you do this?”
Your lips open and close as your head swells violently. Your arms feel heavy as you grasp at him desperately. I can do better, I can do better. Just one more chance, honey. Please.
“You’re the one, you’re the one,” he chants tearfully, “I never loved anyone like I love you.”
“Cl-Clark,” you force out, “ple-ease—”
“No,” he crushes your throat so not a single wisp can get through, “I will never… love anyone that way I love you. Never…”
Your cheek twitches as your lashes glazes with tears. Your heart pounds in your chest as your mind swirls. His eyes fill with red light, glowing hotter and hotter. You see yourself in the scarlet glare; you in your tub, reading your favourite novel, that first day at the office when you nervously introduced yourself, your days in school, running between classes, your high school graduation, the little girl dancing in the fields, a princess out of time.
You see it all behind you and you see the emptiness ahead of you. You shake your head above his grip and use the last of your effort to mouth the words to him. The truth.
‘I….’ you make certain the movement is clear, even as your eyes threaten to roll into your skull, ‘hate.’ Your lips twist in a cruel smirk, ‘you.’
Your head lolls and you stare into his glowing irises. You’re ready. This is ever after.
The world is consumed in a red flash and a striking heat. It sears to the bone and ends just as quickly. All is black and gone. A life burnt to cinder.
Stayed tuned for the epilogue
#clark kent#dark clark kent#dark!clark kent#clark kent x reader#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#the assistant#dc#dcu#superman
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Wallflower

Punk!Sam x Fem!Reader
Summary: After his concert in Zuzu city, Sam sneaks the reader into his bedroom. Feelings and baggage come out as Sam struggles to explain why he's been pushing the reader away, but they make up pretty quickly ;)
Word Count: 3048 words
Content: This is my take on arguably the best 10 heart scene (though I am usually an elliott gal) I like my porn to have some emotion but don't worry ya'll they are up against the wall by the end. Sam can be sexy and punk and awkward about his emotions!! Reader is also implied like soft sweet vibes.
Warnings: swiss army knife used but not in a threatening way, shouldn't bother anyone but just in case!! It's like two sentences
Read on Ao3
“Quit pushing!”
“Well hurry up then… don’t want Emily gossiping if she sees you,” Sam muttered, his hands bracing your hips. He glanced to the front entrance, making sure you weren’t within the stupid doorbell camera’s line of sight. Kent took home security very seriously.
Sam’s rough hands gripped the tops of your thighs, pushing you up and over his windowsill. You could feel each of his silver ringed fingers squeezing the skin. It was on purpose of course, he’d take any opportunity to touch you. “Don’t you do any work on that farm? I thought you’d be stronger.” His voice was teasingly annoyed, prompting you to turn your head and glare.
“Sorry, I’m not used to breaking into houses,” you snapped.
“It’s technically not breaking in, I do live here.” He threw himself in behind you, landing with a practiced ease. The lime green carpet beneath the window was noticeably dirty, sprinkled with flecks of mud he had done a half-ass job cleaning up. You knew Sam liked to go out in the rain, mostly with Seb and Abby. He had never invited you. It stung a little.
“I wouldn’t have worn this if I knew that you were planning on taking the window in,” you huffed, gesturing to the black, flowy sundress you wore. You were glad you had gone to his concert, Sam was truly gifted at the guitar, but wow did you misread the room. Punks, goths, emos… how could anyone tell the difference? You thought the black would be enough but you were sorely mistaken. Sundresses were not within any of those subgenres. Sam’s eyes roamed greedily over your figure, but he noticed the stiffness in your shoulders that screamed insecurity.
“C’mere princess,” he cooed, hand cupping your jaw with a gentleness he only reserved for you, “you looked beautiful- look beautiful, even now. Even with that hole.” His hand slid to your ass, rubbing at a spot on the skirt of your dress. It must have caught on a nail on the way in. His hands were warm and rough, his fingers calloused by years of skimming them across the metal strings of his guitar, and you could feel every glide. He grinned wickedly as he brushed agains the elastic of the panties you had worn, his hands climbing beneath the flowy linen of your dress to push the fabric up.
“Sam!” you smacked his hand away. “Not yet, tell me why we’re sneaking around. Why can't I see your mom? I brought her that eggplant parm the other day and I want to know if she liked it.”
He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, “Jeez, does it really matter? Just come over tomorrow and I’m sure she’ll tell you all about it.” He rolled his eyes, impatiently tugging you closer by the hips.
He had been acting strange lately, distant in a way he wasn’t before. Just a few weeks ago he was inviting you to try playing Solarion Chronicles, to go skateboarding by the river with him. You still remembered the warmth of his hands as he held you on the board, laughing and whisking you up when you failed a simple ollie. “Yeah, it does matter,” you said. “Why have you been so… I don’t even know… so weird?”
He tugged you closer, making a frustrated noise as your back hit the wall with a stern pressure. Even as his grip allowed you no wiggle room, his hand slid up to cup the back of your head, making sure you didn’t bump it against his window frame. “You talk too much- just kiss me already.”
His lips slanted against yours, his tongue brushing against the soft pink flesh urgently. You felt the cool metal of his lip ring against your mouth, but you didn’t give in to the urge to tug on it. Instead, you gripped his shoulders and pushed them back just a little. “Wait Sam. We need to talk about this. I don’t understand what’s going on with you.”
He didn’t say anything, his jaw tensing as he slid his face into the warm space of your neck, leaving a few soft kisses above the spaghetti strap on your shoulder. The feeling of his teeth snapping it made you shiver as he murmured, “We can talk about it another time, babe.”
He sounded dismissive, but his shoulders had slumped slightly, as if that facade of careless, eager hunger had slipped. “Sam,” you mumbled, trying to look him in the eye, but he only pushed his face further into your neck. The heat of his cheeks, growing warmer with a shameful blush, seared you as he sighed.
He pulled back, but his eyes were trained deliberately on the ceiling. “Look I know how to fuck women and- No, shhh, wait-” He stumbled over his words as he took in the bewildered look on your face, “Just- just let me finish.”
He took another breath as you nodded, his hand fidgeting with the thin metal bar in his eyebrow. It was a nervous tick you recognized. “I meant,” he paused, “I know like- how this part goes. The sleeping around thing. And- and I know how to be friends with girls, obviously. Abby and I get along I think. I just don’t know how to do this part.” His hand gestured back and forth between you two.
“I’m not sure I understand…”
He sucked on his lip, taking another tight breath as he tried to rearticulate. “Like, you and me. I don’t want you to be like Abby and I don’t want you to be like- I don’t know. You know what I’m saying.”
An awkward laugh escaped your lips, “Not really…”
He turned even redder, trying to step back, but you grabbed the collar of his jacket, pulling him close again. “Stop that, Sam. I’m not- I’m not mad at you, I just want to understand. You like me… right?”
“God yes,” he breathed, his brows shifting into a confused, desperate furrow.
“Why don’t you want to be seen with me?” A sharp pain twisted in your stomach as you asked. That was the question now, wasn’t it? That thing that had been bugging you about his behavior. He was embarrassed of you. You were a fucking farmer. His friends, they were cool. They played music and games and went drinking on weekends. You stayed in to knit and make homemade jams.
His face broke a little as you asked, pulling you close, “No no no, see? I knew I’d fuck this up-” When you didn’t answer, he started again. “I’m afraid. I want you to like my friends, I want to bring you places, I want you to be friends with my mom, heck- I want Vincent to love you, too.” He blew out a long breath, finally looking at you once again as he leaned his forehead against yours, stooping down to even out your heights. “I don’t know how to do any of that.”
You quirked a brow in confusion, but kept your tone gentle, “Well, Sam, isn’t that my responsibility? If your mom and your friends didn’t like me it wouldn’t be your fault…”
“No,” he said quickly, seeing the creeping nerves in your expression, “They do. They do like you. They- They even ask me why you don’t come around more often but I just- I’m afraid. I’ve never had a real girlfriend before. Never anything longer than a month or two. I don’t want it to be like that with you.”
You opened your mouth to reassure him but he kept going, the words pouring out now. “I really really like you. Really like you. Every time I’ve felt like things were getting serious with someone it’s all gone to shit and yeah- sometimes it was my fault. I don’t want to think about letting you down, or- or what could happen if we’re official and everyone I love loves you and then it goes bad again. You’ll be alone. I’ll be alone.”
It was… a tough thing to think about. Something in you revolted at his words, did he really have such little faith in your relationship? But you knew that wasn’t it. You had your own baggage, this was his. It was too soon to trick yourself into thinking things would work out perfectly, sunshine and rainbows. You brushed a lock of damp, blond hair from his face. It was still warm, sweaty after their concert and the sweltering bus ride home. You brushed the patches on his jacket, smoothing the threads down. Weren’t these the things that mattered, at least right now?
“One day at a time, Sam. We’ll figure it out.”
“What do you mean?” He asked warily. There was a soft, barely there tremor. Clearly, he believed this was where it ended, where you decided he didn’t know what he wanted and still lived in his parents house and still dreamed of music like a child, and didn’t know how to cook or clean or anything useful-
“I mean… I like you. Do you like me?”
“Yes,” he answered again. There was no hesitation in his eyes, but there was confusion. “I do”
“Well if I like you and you really really like me… then it doesn’t matter what the future holds.” He didn’t look so convinced.
“We don’t need to get married tomorrow, Sam,” You gave a soft laugh, hoping to ease the tension. “I want to start slow, I want to get to know your friends and family before I start flaunting you.”
He smiled a little at your tease. “I think I should be the one flaunting you around. You deserve so much better than me.” His lips brushed your forehead.
“There’s nothing wrong with slowing things down.” Your fingers crept into his hair, slipping through the longer bits at the back of his neck. He purred as he felt the tips of your nails scratch lightly. It was his sweet spot.
“Don’t do that to me…” He groaned softly, his eyes shutting as he tipped his head back, exposing his neck. You pressed a kiss to his adam’s apple, making him groan again as he finally looked at you. “Slowing things down… seems like your actions don’t match your words.” Though his words were chiding, he didn’t seem to be upset by your touch in the slightest. His pupils were quickly growing wide, hungry.
“Sorry… you’re right I shouldn’t have,” you went to pull back, but his hands flew to your hips, walking you back against the wall.
He guided your hands back into your hair, whispering the word please into your ear. You bit your lip and tugged a little, earning a low moan from him. “You deserve better, better than being fucked up against a wall…” he said as his big hands slid to the back of your thighs yet again that night. He lifted you easily, slotting his hips neatly against yours. “But I’m gonna do it anyway if you don’t tell me to stop.”
His brown eyes were dark, but still held so much warmth. He would stop if you told him to, would set you down, walk you home even. But how could you ask him to stop now?
“Don’t stop.” You tugged again on his jacket, attempting to pull it off in a way that was sexy rather than desperate, and he laughed. He slid it off and threw it to the ground, leaving himself in that ripped tank that showed off the toned muscles in his arms.
He growled playfully as he saw you looking him over, “I can’t believe I ever thought you were just a sweet little thing…” His hands slid under your dress, hiking the skirt up around your waist. “I’ve been excited for these,” he brushed his fingers against the swath of black fabric at your core. He grinned at your confusion, “I saw them earlier when you climbed through the window.”
“Sam! You were looking?” You huffed, but he only answered with a cocky smirk. “Ugh…I hate you.”
“Yeah, right, princess.” He brushed his nose against yours in a mocking kiss. “You already told me how much you like me.” His voice pitched up into a teasing mockery of your own as he continued, “Oh, Sam, I wanna flaunt you around and- and we can take things slowly and fall in love…” He stretched out the word love, and you hissed indignantly. Those words had been for his benefit, not your own! “Besides,” his gaze turned feral as he thumbed the slick spot forming on your lace, “it certainly doesn’t feel like you hate me.”
The look of startled shock and the grumpy glare you gave him made him chuckle. The sound was low and sexy, but he kissed away your pouty lip with eyes full of unbearable affection. You couldn’t help yourself from kissing back. His lips grew more desperate the longer you kissed, and soon you gave in to that nagging urge. The metal of his lip ring was cool and satisfying as you tugged it between your own lips. In answer, he shoved his hips against the center of you, letting you feel the bulge growing there. His skinny jeans were too tight to hide his arousal, but he didn’t seem embarrassed in the least.
“It’s way past my bedtime,” you huffed, “I should leave you here.” He didn’t respond, only humming softly against your mouth as he began to grind into you. His clothed cock rubbed against your panties, and he grunted, bunching the skirt of your sundress higher.
“No way,” he shook his head, propping you against the wall with his knee as he fumbled with his zipper, “Not when you’ve got me all fucking hard now.” The button of his jeans popped and he slid the zipper down to free himself. Warmth leaked into your sides, your hips, everywhere as his hands returned to you. “This is your fault, telling me you wanna go slow, “he paused, grinding unashamed against your slick panties, “and then pulling my hair- looking all cute like that.”
“Fuck,” you whimpered. His hand found yours and he shoved it into his pants, making you cup the hard length of him.
“Go on,” he encouraged, cupping your face tenderly despite the filthy words coming from his lips, “Touch it. You made me hard, now fix it.” Your hand slid into his boxers, gripping him around the base. His dick was heavy and thick, the skin velvety and warm. “Shit… you’re so gentle with me, princess. I can hardly stand it-” His voice broke on a groan when you started stroking, pulling him out of his pants.
He stuffed his hand into his pocket, pulling out a small swiss army knife. Kent was very into safety, apparently. Cool metal brushed against your pussy and you held completely still. The blade slid clean through the lace of the panties, leaving you bare as he cut it away. You whimpered softly and he grinned, “What, you like that? Maybe next time we play I’ll show you more.” He carefully put the blade away, squeezing your ass. “Keep stroking, babe.”
He chuckled at the soft moan that fell from your lips, shifting your hips so that you were comfortably lined up with his cock. “Now put it in,” he murmured in your ear, kissing and nipping at the soft skin to make you shiver. Your hand held him, carefully pressing his tip against the soft, slick folds of your pussy with a little whine. The thick head of his cock pushed forward, slipping into your untouched entrance. “Good girl, you take me so easily… I didn’t even have to lift a finger.” He held your hips in place against the wall as he leaned forward, slowly sinking into your cunt until he bottomed out.
“Sam…” His thrusts were achingly slow, pulling out nearly to the tip before slipping back in an inch at a time. You grabbed at his strong arms, currently holding you aloft by your ass and up against the warm brick, at his thin ripped t-shirt, at the silver chains dangling from his throat.
He rumbled a laugh as he thrusted hard, earning a squeak from your startled lips. “So needy, baby. Don’t you trust me to give you what you need?”
“No, I-” you grumbled, but he cut you off with another hard thrust. He propped up your hips, holding them in place as he picked up speed. Soon enough he was pounding you into the wall, one hand on your head, the other pinning you down tighter as he shifted his hips. His cock found its target a moment later, tapping your cervix until tears pricked your eyes. The sight had him grinning wickedly as he gently brushed the moisture away, never breaking his deep pumping motion. “Aww, don’t cry princess, I'm gonna make you cum so hard…”
He doubled down, slamming into you recklessly as he moaned and tightened his hold. His rhythm became sloppy as he panted into your neck. “Cum with me, please… I wanna feel it- I need to feel you.” A little groan loosed from his lips as he watched you reach between your bodies, rubbing your clit quickly as your head leaned back against his careful hand. He couldn’t hold back, spilling into you with ragged breaths at the sight. “Fuck, baby, m’sorry, I couldn’t…” He kept pumping, desperately wanting to feel you tighten around his cock as you climaxed.
With a few more well aimed thrusts and sweet kisses to your neck, you were melting in his arms, finally feeling that sweet release as he cradled you close. He went to fix your dress and set you down, but you shook your head softly, still in the blissful daze. You didn’t want to be put down, and you doubted your own ability to stand right now, anyways.
A tender smile crossed his features, and he walked you to his bed, sliding in and making sure you were wrapped up securely in the covers. He kissed your forehead, your cheeks, your nose, and then just all over until you giggled.
“Sleep, cutie, we’ll tell my mom about us in the morning.”
#Punk Sam supremacy#Sam SDV#Stardew Valley#Sam x Reader#Smut#Lemons#Sam x farmer#SDV#Fanfic#My Writing#Wallflower#Wall sex#Female Reader#awkward sam
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omg please sam + transports for the mundane things ask!
🚗 Transports HCs ───〃★ Sam
a/n: omg hi!! here's some transport HCs about our favorite golden retriever boy Sam. Hope you enjoy! Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated🫶🌷
Do they have a driving license, whether it's for a car or bikes?
Sam has a driver's license, but he doesn’t own a car. It was actually his driver’s license that landed him a job at Joja Mart. The only times he gets to drive is if he has to do some deliveries for Morris or if Luis has him run errands around Pelican Town.
Do they have any other kind of driving licenses (planes, ships, buses…)?
No, but that didn’t stop him from convincing Willy to let him steer the boat going to Ginger Island. And because I can't live without the tractor mod, I say that Sam took a liking to using your tractor to get to places in the farm. He got it painted red.
Do they own a car?
He doesn’t, but he and Sebastian often browse car websites when they hang out in Sebastian’s room.
Do they own a bike?
He had a kid's bicycle when he was young, but he never bothered to continue biking after Jodi and Kent got him a toy drum set for his 6th birthday. His bicycle is mostly being used by Jazz and Vincent now. Sam managed to convince Sebastian to teach him how to ride a motorcycle.
Are they the kind of person who thinks of their car as if it were their baby? Perfectly clean, not a scratch, almost overly protective of it?
Sam gave names to both the Joja Mart truck and Luis’ pick-up: Billy and Joel. He thinks he’s clever for coming up with them. He takes good care of them when he’s driving, keeping them clean and smelling fresh. He went into hysteria when he accidentally spilled Joja Cola on the passenger seat of Luis’ truck.
Do they use public transports? If so, do they like using them?
Sam does and he’s indifferent to it. Whenever he has to ride the bus, he always sits in his favorite spot by the window. He likes to look out and pretend he’s in a music video. He picks at the leather seats, much to Pam’s annoyance.
Do they like going on trains?
He’s never had the chance to ride on a train before, but he always runs to the train station whenever a train passes through the valley so he can watch it. When you two got married, you and Sam would sometimes just ride the train going to Zuzu city and back to the valley. He takes complete advantage of the free snacks on board.
Do they like going on boats or ships?
Sam loves them and would always go to Ginger Island if given the chance. Sam and Elliott would sometimes hang out on Elliott's boat and talk about music.
Do they like going on airplanes?
Sam has only been on a plane twice so far, and he loved it. He found out about Harvey’s plane hobby when he had to do his doctor’s visit and saw Harvey’s little plane statue on his table. Harvey ended up showing Sam his plane stuff and gave him one of his many tiny plane memorabilia. Sam and Harvey's friendship blossomed from there.
#stardew valley#stardew valley x reader#stardew valley fanfic#sdv sam x reader#stardew valley headcanons#sdv sam#🌱 writing :: sam
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I See Red
TomWelling!Superman x afab!reader
Word Count: 664
A/N: Smallville (as Lois would call him) has been aged up to be 20. Post graduating highschool. I’m only on season 4 at the moment so the characters are only from the first 4 seasons (also not my gif!).
Warnings: Little bit of RedKryptonite!Clark, suggestive language, angsty asf, bad grammar, mention of family member death. I think that’s it!
Happy Reading!
It was one hell of a stormy day in Smallville, closely imitating twister weather. You’re sitting up in the Kent Hay loft watching the rain pound over the farm, it was relaxing. This weather put your mind an ease, you weren’t thinking about school, the Talon, or Clark. You hear a voice, you jump turning to face the one calling you.
“Hey!”, Chloe waves, “Sorry, I- didn’t mean to spook you.” She smiles walking to sit across from you on the bay window seat. “I heard you were staying with the Kent’s, and I wanted to drop by and check on you, I know things have been rough since Clark disappeared.” She reaches her hand to your shoulder.
“I’m okay”, you flash a fake smile turning you gaze back to the rolling rain. “How’s Lana?”, eyes still fixed on the rain.
“She’s not great, but she’s also not okay”, Chloe removes her hand from your shoulder.
“Oh”, is all you can muster up.
“Why don’t you go talk to her, and ask her for yourself?”, this question removes your eyes from the downpour.
“Why? She’s not talking to me. She thinks I’M the reason Clark left.”
“I doubt that’s true, y/n. You’re her BEST friend.”
“WAS”, you sneer.
“No IS”, she replies. “I think you should go to the Talon, and TALK to her.” She stands up, grabs your arm tugging you off the seat. “Gosh you’re so weird, I would definitely put you on my SECRET wall of weird if you’re weren’t human.”, you roll your eyes. Your body is hesitant to stand up but you finally do, following Chloe out of the Hayloft. “You and Clark are really are perfect for each other.”
“Yeah, I guess so”, you chuckle. You file into Chloe’s new red beetle and head into town. After while, the rain soaks back up into the clouds, and you are finally at Lana’s coffee shop. Your heart pounding with anxiety, “I don’t want to do this, I have nothing to say to her.”
“Oh yes you do”, Chloe got out of the drivers side walking around to you and pulling you out of the car. You entered the shop, you pick out the table farthest from the bar where Lana is cleaning the after math of the rainstorm rush.
“Chloe, I don’t want to be here.” You put your head down on the table and let out a long winded dramatic whine.
“That sucks, but you guys need to talk”, she rubs your back. “HEY! Lana!”, she waves her over. Lana walks over smiling, you lift your head up smiling back.
“Hey! Chloe! Y/n!”, she exclaims, she doesn’t see upset at all, or maybe she’s putting on face to save Chloe some embarrassment. “Usuals?”
“YES?”, you and Chloe exclaim in unison.
“Got it! Two. VANILLA iced lattes coming up!”, she walks away making her way back to the coffee bar.
“See, she’s not upset! You’re fine.”, Chloe gestures.
“She doesn’t seem like it, but Lana has always been good at putting on a face. You and I both know that”, you respond.
After about 5 minutes Lana returns with three blue coffee mugs, “I need a break, I think I’m gonna join you girls for some coffee, if you don’t mind!”, she sits down in the chair across from you and Chloe.
“Totally!”, Chloe states. You guys chat for a bit about school, life, and nothing about Clark; you preferred this. Lana has been your best friend since Kindergarten, and you guys have made it a point to not let petty one sided drama get in between your friendship. The Clark situation left as quickly as it came. Chloe was shocked at the lack of Clark talk, maybe she wanted some drama for her Tourch gossip.
After your coffee dinner you ended up back at the Kent’s getting ready for bed, 5 am comes quickly, you put your hair in a braid and put on Clark’s primary red sweatshirts and a pair of boxers and climb into his bed that you were borrowing. You dose off after 20 minutes. Your sleep was restful for the first hour. You jolt awake from the bed shifting beside you.
“You look peaceful”, the voice was familiar, but in your groggy state you couldn’t pin it down.
“Wha-“, you roll over turning on his bedside lamp, and jump spooked by the boy sitting next to you shirtless on his bed. “Oh-oh my gosh CLARK?!”, you whisper scream as to not wake his parents. You reach your hand out to touch his face in awe, “oh-oh wow!”, a smile fills your face.
“Hey baby”, his smile was alluring, but it wasn’t normal, it was full of mischief. “Sorry I did not mean to wake you.” He adds running his hands through you hair sweeping back the whispies blocking your face.
“Clark, what are you doing here?”, your voice laced with concern.
“I thought it was time to come home.”
“Wow”, you huff, crossing your arms slightly pushing your boobs up. Clark stares intently at your chest. “CLARK! You’re a perv!”, you swiftly uncross your arms hitting him on the shoulder as hard as you can. He chuckles.
“Sorry, I can’t help it.” He lays down next you stripping off his pants so he’s left in only Calvin Klein briefs. You can’t help, but use your “X-Ray” vision, “Hey you pervert. I’m trying to get some rest”, he mocks. He rolls over you to turn off the lamp. He wraps you in his arms and both of you drift off to sleep.
You feel something growing against your back, you lean into him acknowledging that you feel his hardening dick unintentionally. He draws you in closer, kissing down your neck as a response to your movements. He sends shivers down your spine, he snakes his hands underneath the sweatshirt lightly stroking the bare skin of your back. “So soft”, Clark whispers against your neck, “I missed your skin.”
He’s acting like nothing has happened, like he didn’t disappear for 2 months to who knows where. You looked for him in Metropolis, Gotham, other parts of Kansas and yet you couldn’t find your stupid boyfriend especially when you needed him the most. Your grandpa passed away and it left you homeless and due to your proximity to the Kent’s they let you stay during summer before the Fall semester of KU began. You appreciate their kindness, but for some reason Mr. Kent wanted you, the girl with the pretty nails and terrible sleep schedule to wake up at 5am to “pull your share” which meant mucking stalls and lifting heavy bales of hay. You were completely okay with this set-up you love being outside and around animals although the hay rash is a tad bothersome.
“Do your parents know your back?”, you whisper eyes still closed.
“No.” His voice was stern, like he was angry at you for even asking.
“Oh.”
“Don’t worry I’ll tell them in the morning”, he follows, “we aren’t waking up at five am, as a member of the Kent family I declare you have an off day.” You smile exhaling a sigh from your nose.
“Fine”, he smiles into your neck wrapped you in closer.
The sun creeps through his curtains and an annoying screeching fills the room. You wrestle to turn off the alarm clock blaring in your ear. You finally get it off, you feel emptiness beside you, ‘where is he?’ You get out of bed sliding on a pair of house shoes and stumble out the room, down the stairs, and begin making your way out the house to the hayloft where you suspect Clark to be hiding. You don’t see him, but the storm cellar door is open in the distance. You knew this ship was hiding there, you know Clark’s secret, but not everything. You didn’t know why he disappeared, or why he was acting like a complete ass before he left. You see a red light beaming through the dark room. “Good morning”, you say waltzing down the stairs.
“Hey.” He doesn’t turn around, his eyes fixed on the glowing red rock.
“What is that?”, you ask coming closer and wrapping your arms around his toned stomach.
“Red Kryptonite”, he answers eyes still enamored.
“Oh.” You give him a tight hug, sighing into his back, “what does it do?”
“Changes me.”
“What do you mean?”
“It makes me feel like me,” he pauses, “like Kal- El.”
“Who?”
“That’s my birth name”, he answers.
“So the real you disappears for a long period of time, doesn’t tell anyone where you are, and comes back out of the blue acting like everything is okay?”, you break away from him. He finally removes his gaze from the rock, closing the led box.
He sighs, “I don’t FEEL anything, that’s what I like. I FEEL so much, sometimes I don’t want to. I want to make my decisions based off myself sometimes and not care about how others feel”, Clark exclaims.
“You can’t be serious right now”, you argue irritations flooding your voice. He just looks at you with those dumb baby blues. “I swear! That was so selfish of you, why did you do it? Because you couldn’t handle the fact that I was leaving Smallville? Were you scared? Why Clark? Why would you be so selfish at a time I needed YOU most”, tears fill your beautiful bright eyes. You begin crying, sliding down onto the ground, emotions completely uncontrollable. He sighs, sitting down next you wrapping his big arms around you pulling you into a comforting hug.
“I thought I told you were sleeping in?” He chuckles. You sniffle staring up at his blue eyes yet again.
“Clark, I’m not playing with you I’m very upset and I think you owe me an explanation.”
“You will get one, but not right now. Right now you get an apology”, he begins softly stroking your messy curls that peaked out from last night’s braid and kisses the top of your head. “I’m sorry y/n, I never meant to hurt you” he adds rocking you in his arms.
“Well you did, did you know papa died the day after you left?”
“Yeah, I was at the funeral.”
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I couldn’t, and that’s because I was being selfish”, you hum at his response.
“I’m hungry, I think your mom is awake. Let’s go eat some breakfast and we can talk about this later”, you smile standing up, reaching out your hand to pull him off the ground. He pulls you back down with his ‘super strength’. He kisses your lips deeply, a kiss you missed so much. You match his rhythm hands tangling in each others hair.
“I love you”, he breaks away from the kiss looking lovingly into your eyes. You smile leading him out of the storm cellar to Mrs. Kent in the kitchen laying out freshly cooked pancakes.
#smallville#superman#clark kent#tom welling#red kryptonite#dcu x reader#dca fandom#dc comics#dc universe#dcu#fanfic#fanfiction#author#x reader#angst#college
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