#Thomas Conner | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kitkatscabinet · 1 month ago

Text

VIRAL VIBES

requested by anon:

summary: you're constantly in the spotlight, is it really a surprise you're a viral sensation?

pairings: platonic batfamily x batsis! reader. mentions of roy, wally, conner, kyle x batsis

a/n: crackish

[You and Duke are seated at a table, a bottle of water in front of you, Bruce stands behind, holding a piece of paper]

"Slay?… Slay what?" He stares deadpan, already concerned for the mental state of his giggling kids.

"That’s it. That’s the word." Duke explains.

"Slay is not a complete thought."

"No," you agree, nodding sagely, "it’s a lifestyle."

You're mid-sip when Bruce decides to drop the following words, "Mama... a girl is behind you." Duke spits his water all over your face, rendering you temporarily blind while you accidentally inhale water up your nose.

"Is this some kind of warning? Is it a threat?" It hurts to breathe, it hurts to exist. You make an odd gargling noise that sends Duke into another spiral.

Bruce never gets an answer to his question, painstakingly watching his hysterically giggling children.

"Skib-" you see Bruce mouth the word incredulously as if questioning what his eyes are seeing, "skibidi... toilet rizz? I feel like I'm being punked, I only recognise one of those words." Neither you nor Duke can answer him, too busy choking on laughter and water.

Tears stream down your cheeks, your palm thumping against the table, and Bruce becomes legitimately concerned you're about to choke to death.

"Be fr."

"What does the fr stand for. Is it supposed to be ‘be… free?’"

"No." You gasp, trying to maintain your composure. "No, it means ‘Be for real.’ Like when someone says something unhinged and you’re begging them to actually tell the truth."

"You know. Like when Jason said he’d start a podcast." Duke snickers as you hold up a hand for a high five.

"Be fr." Bruce nods, his monotone delivery sending you over the edge as you laugh so hard you slip off the chair, accidentally knocking the phone over.

[Steph's voice comes from behind the camera focused on you and Dick slumped on the couch, it's clear she's holding back a giggle]

"He’s a 10, but he once fell off the treadmill in public because he was distracted by his own reflection."

The words register in Dick's head, his mouth falling open in offence. He throws his phone down on the couch, suddenly paying attention to Steph's shenanigans.

"Oh yeah, solid 4, sounds like an idiot." You chime in, not looking up from your phone.

"The mirror snuck up on me!" He huffs, pouting at Steph as he prepares his comeback.

"She’s a 10, but she once pretended not to know me at a farmer’s market because I said ‘slay’ unironically."

"You said it to a zucchini, Dick!"

"Weak." You snort. "Minus 3 points for flirting with the shittest vegetable."

Steph spins the camera enough to show her thumbs up.

"Fine. She’s a 10, but she has a ‘funeral playlist’ and refers to it as her final slay."

"I don't think you understand this trend Dickhead. Besides, it’s an awesome fucking playlist. ACDC into Billie Eilish? The drama, the emotional whiplash. That’s the arc."

"10/10. No notes." Steph chirps.

Dick scowls. "She’s a 10, but trauma dumps during the brunch and ruins the vibe."

"Who hasn't?" Steph scoffed, determined to back you up.

"Excuse you, the trauma dump is the vibe. That mimosa knew what it signed up for." You barely skip a beat before firing back at your brother.

"He's a 10, but he's fumbled every baddie he somehow managed to bag in the first place." Steph shrieks with laughter as Dick looks close to tears.

"I mean, how you gonna fumble four separate redheads, couldn't be me." You deadpan.

The camera shakes with the force of Steph's laughter, the video cutting off right after you hear Dick's whine in the background. "Why are you being so mean to me? Wait 4?"

[You're behind the camera, which is focused on a tired-looking Tim walking on the pavement.]

"Hey, have you ever met my friend George?"

"George?" Tim mumbles, turning to look at you, "Wait, why are you filming-" His suspicion is warranted, but comes far too late for him to react as your hand enters the frame, shoving him into the hedge.

"George Bush!"

[She's such a good big sister🥹 ]

Video 1: Damian's dressed in a suit, standing beside a piece of artwork and looking small against all the other patrons. You suddenly sneak up behind him, catching him in a hug as you proudly brag to the nearby art show guests about your little brother's art.

Video 2: You and Duke are seated in a Batburger in your pyjamas at 2am. You look exhausted, blinking repeatedly and threatening to fall asleep in your fries, but you still let Duke ramble at you as you pay for his food and give him your milkshake.

Video 3: You're holding Tim's hand as you cross the road, tugging him along gently and him trusting you enough to barely watch where he's walking.

Video 4: You giving Cass a bouquet of flowers after her dance performance. You're eyes are a little red and puffy as you animatedly tell her how beautiful she is.

Video 5: Jason looking uncomfortable at a gala event as an older woman talks at him, only for you to suddenly sweep in dramatically, tugging him away without so much as a by your leave.

[A video posted on Bart's TikTok of you and Wally captioned: bro stand up!!]

The video:

You're scowling at an enamoured-looking Wally, gesticulating wildly as you clearly scold him about something. From the look on his face, it's clear Wally's not absorbing a single thing, staring at you like he's mentally planning your wedding.

The comments:

@dickgraysonsgrayson: Wally West falling for her is SO funny because he talks a mile a minute and she just stares at him like he’s background noise. AND HE LOVES IT.

@tiddiesinsincity: She calls him ‘annoying’ with the most affectionate tone ever. They're in love ur honour!!!

@westnwayne4eva: That man is down so horrendously bad I'm nearly embarrassed for him.

@lexluthorscheapasswig: They give off golden retriever x black cat ENERGY in all caps.

@nightwingschikenwing: He’d absolutely be the type to send ‘thinking about u’ memes every hour, and she responds once a day with ‘ok.’ AND HE SAVES IT.

@:iranoutofusernameideas: She says ‘Wally, no’ at least five times a day. He hears it like it’s ‘I love you.’

[You're doing an interview at a gala, Roy appears from behind, resting a hand on your waist as you jump]

The video:

"Hey trouble." Roy grins wickedly, ignoring the sudden flashes of cameras.

"Roy! I almost punched you." You whine, but still relax in his hold, smiling back. "What are you even doing here? You hate these things."

"What can I say? Maybe I wanted to see you."

The comments:

@whydidothistomyself: “That one clip where Roy pulls her away from the paparazzi with that stupid smug grin?? Yeah, I rewatch it daily and this is going in the folder right next to it.

@ireallyneedanewhobby: rolling her eyes while Roy winks at her like the menace he is…that’s love.

@booktokmorelikewaynetok: He calls her trouble?? JUST KISS ALREADY.

@royharpersgianttiddies: Their dynamic is: she threatens to throw him off a rooftop and he calls it flirting.

@olimcqueen: Them side-eyeing each other at events? Her smirking after he leaves a snarky comment? chef's kiss

@just-iceleagueee: The way Roy softens around her though. Like he’s all charm and sass but when she’s upset? He listens. I’m ruined.

[another video posted on Bart's account captioned: getting sick of this shit fr]

The video:

You're running away from a soaking wet Tim, ducking behind Conner, who grins, letting you use him as a human shield. Freezing when you wrap your arms around him from behind and poke your head out to mock Tim. Only to squeal in laughter when Conner hauls you into his arms, taking off in a run away from a still yelling Tim.

The comments:

@lexluthersucks: no because he LOOKS at her like she’s the only person who matters

@actualwayneteagirl: petition for her to date literally any of her brother’s friends

@batgirlburnbook: he goes feral if she’s mildly inconvenienced. like sir?? get a grip (never change).

@superboyslutclub: she could be wearing literally anything and conner looks like he’s ready to propose on the spot.

@no.1ship: ok but him manhandling her like she weighs nothing?? how do i get me one of those??

@idontevenlikeDCfr: her being completely unfazed by him while he’s just… standing there, breathing heavy. i get it.

[The comments from a video of you laughing at something said off-screen, presumably from the man who's arm was in frame]

@batkinnie: she smiled and i KNOW it was at wally. #WayneWest supremacy!!

@connrified: nah bc conner was RIGHT THERE. you can see his reflection. they are ENDGAME.

@royharperzgun: that laugh was for ROY and ROY ONLY.

@kryptonianluvr02: imagine thinking she’d choose roy when conner breathes like that near her.

@bruciewayne420: if you think anyone makes her laugh like wally does, you’re delulu. LMAO.

@lovewinsssss: she likes redheads with issues so YES roy is winning.

@aquamanswife: y’all are colorblind bc that’s clearly wally in her peripheral vision.

[A slightly shaky video of you sitting across from an unknown man in a cozy little cafe]

The comments:

@connerscurlz: WHO. IS. THAT. MAN. AND WHY IS HE BREATHING HER AIR.

@arsenalxwife: blink twice if you’re being held against your will queen

@jsontoddslefttit: not to be dramatic but this just ruined my entire week.

@glowylanternz: he looks like he reads poetry and draws her while she sleeps. i’m scared.

@wayneupdates: sources say his name is Kyle something?? art guy? lover boy coded?? HELP.

@arsenalsarmtattoo: we lost her to a man with ring jewelry. how do we recover from this.

@batdaddddy: conner nation is in mourning.

@wallywestsupremacy: she giggled. SHE GIGGLED. we’ve lost her for real this time.

@batgirlfandom: let her have her sexy sad artist boyfriend in peace.

@timstarlightsss: this is worse than the time Dick started dating that yoga instructor

#x reader #kat's asks #dc x reader #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #batfamily x reader #tim drake x reader #bruce wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader #stephanie brown #wally west x reader #roy harper x reader #conner kent x reader #kyle rayner x reader #batsis #duke thomas

1K notes · View notes

acid-ixx · 1 month ago

Note

Getting hyper fixated on the loving family series i was wondering if you could write a scenario in which the reader is kinda forced to appear at an event where Bruce is and he and the rest of the family watch as the reader shows up with Clark and Jon with a beautiful suit/dress (preferably a suit but either is okay) and the outfit so stunning the rest of the room can’t help but stare in awe and the batfam has to sit there and watch while the reader is living their best life and perhaps some smug attitude from Clark as Bruce notices some not so hidden love bites on the readers body. And death glares from the bat siblings as Jon is being super cuddly and loving with the reader to purposefully rile up Damien and the others???

all eyes on the prize p.t. 1 (a loving family, an unpalatable desire two-shot)

ft. yandere superfam x gn! neglected spouse reader x yandere batfam

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist !

— a/n: implied nsfw between clark and the reader but no actual smut scene. also, interpret the reader as any gender!!! i personally put them in a suit cause it's not only classy but it's a very flexible and stylistic choice when it comes to fashion. clark is described as way larger, broader (due to kryptonian genes) than the reader but not taller, same with bruce, but i still tried to keep the reader as neutral as possible when it came to their appearance.

being the affair partner of a pulitzer price winning journalist was no easy feat.

being recognized by fans of his in public and having to sign their favorite articles of his was an alright task for you, having candid photos taken without your knowledge at every small outing you have with your little family was a fate you've already prepared for, even bump ins with other aspiring journalists who wish to live under clark's shadow, hearing them ramble about their passions on the side of the street whilst begging you to promote their own written entries to your partner was at least tolerable—

because those instances were far more easier to cope with than an upcoming gala.

because at least those moments still guaranteed your mental stability since all you really had to worry about were deranged conspiracists with no real power over you — over clark and his naturally protective kryptonian instincts which easily signals him to drop off his current missions and to swoop you in his loving arms whenever he senses you're truly in trouble — who can only ever type in newer theories that are quickly disputed by the fans who were always in favor of your current affair over your miserable marriage from months ago.

so yeah, it was safe to say that over the course of the months where you were safely tucked in your new home life, back when bruce and the others weren't aware of your affair; you'd never really had an excuse to worry about anything else.

really, clark's strong hands wrapped protectively around the expanse of your waist whilst he flies you around metropolis on one of your little dates, alongside jon convincing you to take him out to buy another tub of ice cream were enough assurances that your domestic life right now is all a perfect bubble that could never be popped by whatever bullshit the wayne's might've planned against your little family could ever do.

really, you thought you were so cunning.

— but a charity event hosted by the bruce wayne in acknowledgement for the daily planet all of a sudden? a gala you're sure would guarantee the presence of your ex-family, aware of the infamous affair you had with clark kent?

a gala where your new family was required to attend, not just for the sake of publicity, but because the invitation contained thinly veiled threats admitting that clark might — or would — lose his job if he didn't bring you along?

an invitation sent to him a week prior, that he'd kept hidden from a cabinet you rarely open. to which he thought you wouldn't notice his skittishness for the past few days, except your human intuition begged your intrigue, to investigate upon your partner's sudden source of stress.

so here you are now. breathless in the middle of your bedroom, stunned as you feel blood rise to your head.

and as much as clark comforts you through his warm chest covering your entirely shaken body as he softly coos on your neck, warm breath fanning against the sudden cold washing over your body; as much as jon tries to reassure you that you've nothing to worry about as his tiny, yet strong hands, tries to pry off the crumpled piece of paper in your grip, reeking of bruce's favorite cologne you'd always have to endure when sleeping in the same empty bed of his back then, as much as conner jokes around right beside you, holding your arms and helping your levitate with his telekinesis in case you might collapse from the shock— as much as your family tries to feed your disillusioned thoughts that everything is okay, even they couldn't deny the cold, hard truth: you all are attending the wretched gala either way.

the company's head passing on the message that clark and, in implied provocation and extension, you, are going to be the star of the show was enough of a guarantee that your family had to be there.

the ornate, black box laced with silken ribbons of your favorite color, laying upon the simple, white bedsheets of your shared bed with clark, its fancy design clashing with the simplicity of your bedroom and standing out, lid slightly ajar, revealing a decadent pair of pearl earrings – no doubt real, and expensive and taunting – and the infamous diamond encrusted ring you thought you'd thrown away was enough of a mockery, enough of a warning that there's more than just rivalry between clark and his old friend—

but a simple statement that even if you managed to temporarily dislodge your old family away from your life, even if you'll push and shove away at your ex-children's attempt of communication with you, even if you wrote off your last name as kent; you ultimately still belong to the wayne's.

and that's enough of a statement which brews a bitter storm inside of clark's heart. makes him want to retaliate, not with a physical fight against the bat, no, he doesn't want you to worry your pretty head anymore than the cruelty his old comrade had already done; but with his own little statement against bruce in this gala, with his own twist which he knows will floor his rival's jaws to the floor once the scheduled gala will come the day after.

for now, though?

he gestures conner with a look, one he often shares to the other kid of his: where he wants him to take jon elsewhere, preferably far away from the house, and leave you two couples some space to think through your choices.

one that says, "i'll have this handled," without so much a word uttered, as conner nods in reply before ushering jon with the same look and a gentle promise that they'll play some games overnight in his apartment instead. jon, as hesitant and oblivious as he is to let go of his tight grip on your shirt, pouts and releases his hold, but not without flying to kiss your dampened cheeks and whispering: "you'll be alright, dad/mom. we'll keep you safe."

then they both leave within the flashing seconds.

when your confused, downward gaze, eyes lined with a fresh wave of tears shifts to the scene in front of you — the family working in tandem with no verbal cues — just right before you could even question clark what he's planning; he shushes you, kissing the crown of your head with the softest smile he could plaster upon his face, a mask ignoring the cruel urge to fly over to gotham, redirecting the rage, transforming it into the adoration he feels for you at this moment, at every passing moment.

at least in the safety of your bedroom, his ultimate prize is still in his arms: willing and gilded in a way bruce could never earn.

he'll make sure the man knows of this the next day.

for now, he turns you to face him as his hand directs itself to the back of your waist, squeezing reassuringly, his other palm cupping the fat of your cheeks, swiping away the salty trails until his thumb and index reaches your bottom lip, pinching lightly. you stare back at his slightly squinted eyes, no doubt capturing you in slow motion just to embrace every little feature of yours, and hold on to his broad shoulders, relaxing from your hold.

but it's you who still doesn't calm down, it's you who still needlessly worries. and clark doesn't like it when his sweetheart thinks of anything else if not him and your family.

not the wayne's.

"what now, clark?" you graze the furrowed crease of his brows with your thumbs, massaging. he hums, laughing at your antics of helping him relax, then leans in to peck your lips, exhaling heartily when you pout at his refusal to reply.

what you didn't notice, though, were the hands suddenly wrapped around your thighs, your thoughts too messy, mind too slow, to comprehend your back pressed against the mattress and the fancy box discared on the rug with a gentle thud.

his breath tickling the core of your ears was the first thing you sensed.

"what now, you ask?*

both your clothes were discarded faster than the heat crawling up your face and the shivers running up your spine.

his mouth made immediate work on your neck all the way to your collarbone, sucking your vulnerable skin until it turns into deep shades of purples clashing with yellow. he bites a little harder when you squeak and tangle your fingers on his messy curls, then teases you with skilled fingers kneading your inner thighs.

he pins you down, you can feel the hairs of his chest pressing against your bare ones, and yet you don't push away, finally realizing the implications of his actions. what he intends for bruce to see, for the world to see.

"—i say we need to show bruce what he's been missing out on this whole time."

a longer, more passionate kiss was enough to set the deal.

the flash of the ever-so insisting paparazzi were as overwhelming as you can expect.

loud, insistent, buzzing with energy at the latest gossip and questions enough to hurl even great thinkers into a mind numbing spiral. they picture your every move, record your every reaction, and twist words spoken into their spit-encased microphone into delirious titles for the media to digest.

yet as invasive as they were, it was one of the legal ways he can obtain your pictures without you or clark suspecting a thing or two for these past few months; living in your own space without doubting if your private life was as private as you'd thought it'd be.

what with damian sneaking off and hitching a ride with jason on his motorcycle just to watch you from afar, standing right outside your apartment with baited breath, going as far as picking your locks and entering just to get a whiff of the life they'd miss without you? or tim hacking through surveillance cameras in areas you frequent, capturing every little smile of yours and pasting it in a bulletin board as a means to gain inspiration? all in the guise of needing you alive—?

suffice to say he was grateful for the media's thirst for drama. it gave off less suspicions, made it so that superman doesn't feel the need to be following his tail after unneeded circumstances where his own children had been caught in the same space as you in public.

it helped track you down: the constant headlines mentioning your name, vicki vale and a bunch of other no-named journalists would often be caught in the spiral of keeping the internet interested in the tale of your affair.

their performance was satisfactory.

and yet it doesn't dismiss the fact that because his life had always been centered around yours — and in his due ignorance, his missed priorities, it was he who was also the reason as to why you left the safety of your manor — that also meant his involvement in the internet's latest drama.

he always has been, but sometimes, even he gets tired.

bruce wayne can handle the element of crime, can help sweep off blood-soaked streets, fund the countless hospitals rattling with new patients of the villains he had dealt with, pay for students' debts, and rehabilitate victims of the corrupt system—

but he can never control the public and their opinions.

especially when it came to him and his... ex-spouse.

bitter as the title tastes on his tongue, right now, he feels their prying eyes swarming his body as he stands by the high arch of the entranceway, sculpted body illuminated by the moonlight stretching across the horizon, reflected by the dangling chandeliers casting a sickening orange light; quite frankly, the warmth of the colors doesn't bring comfort upon the anxiety creeping right beneath his skin.

he can hear the gossip and expectations for what is to come, the crowd's own speculations all but mere background talk to him as he focuses solely on the countless of familiar faces passing between thick, mahogany doors, initiating greeting with every entering folk; a false smile plastered on his weary face, a controlled crinkle of his eyes, overly saccharine hello's burying the barely disguised disinterest in their brief conversations before another wave of people come in.

the earpiece tucked in his right ears are flooded with anticipatory conversation about when or if you're going to arrive.

he can't deny his own patience waning as his eyes scan the countless piercing ones amongst the crowd, singling out his children making talk with other guests as a way to pass time.

tim's entertaining the guests, used to the constant socialization required due to his upbringing, he emits a hearty laugh at someone's joke: light, yet empty at the seams. duke tries – but fails – to follow his lead, adjusting to the change in scenery; he pretends to be shocked by the drama occurring between the socialites, sneering under his breath at their ridiculously obvious bragging about another new, undeserved property bought, preferring to focus elsewhere.

damian's doing well under dick's guidance, making an actual effort to disguise his contempt for the crowd, communicating with some and faking awe, yet whenever he scoffs openly, dick subtly glares at the smaller child as warning which prompts him to shut up momentarily. meanwhile, jason is properly hidden behind the sculpted columns, hawk eyes assessing every known guests and providing updates to the family in the comms for suspicious activity.

barbara chose to fancy herself in the batcave, with access to the security cameras plastered on every corner and outside the venue's premises. steph and cass are together, munching on the buffets and assessing which pastry dish is the best, they ignore the other guests trying to talk to them whilst they play with the fancy clams displayed in the corner of the table.

all of them, committing to their own, unique way of passing time—

and yet they all share the same, disinterested gaze as bruce.

choosing to return brief eye contact with him, raising their brows, as if they're all asking the same question:

"where are they, bruce?"

(because, after all, the only purpose of this gala, and their willingness to cooperate with one another without bickering, is to finally share the same space with you after months of silent treatment, months of your lack of cooperation for a counseling session between troubled couples with bruce, months of being held in another man's arms, littered with kisses that aren't his own, spending moments with another child— superman's, no less. and under his protection and attention, you are no doubt invulnerable for any opportunities of kidnapping. at least, in this event, even if it's just for a temporary moment. for confirmation, maybe, that you're safe and sound and happy and thriving without them, and that maybe they'll be glad that you chose clark and his family over them).

them and their undeniable sin of ignoring you.

sure, they should've been glad you left and never turned back. he should've been grateful that there was one less person worrying over him.

(but he knows, deep down, bruce knows it in his sick, twisted mind that it's never what they wanted. bruce knows that they needed you).

so when you finally entered the fray, it was no denying that they all felt the same, compelling and magnetic pull that you've always had — that they chose to turn their backs on, that they discovered all too late was something they yearned for — garnering all of their sporadic attention into one singular being: you.

"oh my god, bruce... they're..."

gorgeous? quite the eye-catcher? the moment everybody's all been waiting for? the reason why this event was hosted in the first place? there's no need to voice out the obvious, no denying that more than anything, you weren't anything less than desirable for the eyes of many.

god, he gulps and feels the parchness of his throat, feels perspiration sliding down his adam's, sinfully he admits that his hunger for you tonight might've multiplied.

his shaky blue eyes share a brief, yet cutting contact with yours, at your dismissive ones staring at him before it ultimately returns to your partner— and he feels the same spark he's felt all those years ago, the same gluttony, the same green envy at every person who shares a close relationship with you prior your marriage to his.

then he remembers why he's willed himself to turn his back on you: you're the reason why bruce forced himself to avoid you— he was afraid, unprepared that the moment you stepped into his life, that if he felt your skin's electrifying contact with his, if he heard that fucking voice of yours tempting him to take a break from being the bat and instead spend a night with him in bed, in your arms, if he feels so much of your warm breath hitting against his bare skin? he might lose himself in the plot; given up his entire life just to feel your body fused with his.

he knew the risk, he wasn't simply ready to take it, wasn't ready for the domesticity of it all.

and now he realizes, his life's always been devoted to you. and also, he's ultimately fucked up his chances of bringing you back into the family without complaints.

"you'd think they change for the worse or so, but no... they're still as charming, bruce— just better now. look, nobody's taking their eyes off of 'em, and they even bought the little kid–"

"— fucking hell. bruce, if you don't move your ass to greet them right now, i'm going to—"

dick's momentary lapse of amazement was interrupted by a series of swears from jason. sworning at him too, probably, about his ultimate talent for fumbling his best asset, about him losing someone so hellishly tempting, about why he's glued to his place, stunned to even plaster a welcoming smile when he hears your polished, black pointed shoes clacking across the marbled floors.

but he doesn't focus on their blurring words and conjoined awes. he doesn't even take his eyes off of your own fingers intertwined with clark's, the silver wedding band he's seen in the pictures still attached to your ring finger, instead of the diamond ones he's sent over to your apartment as a means of apologies.

his attention doesn't waver at all, not when he's too busy losing his breath over... you.

not when he zeroes in at the sickening sight before him—

dazzling as you were, adorned with a loose, white shirt – unbuttoned, just to give bruce and the crowd around you a glance of your clavicle – peeking out of the layered, gray vest, a blazer draped over your shoulder, and a tie sits loosely at the base of your outfit to complete the simple look; as if that would distract everyone from the sight of the fresh love marks littering the entirety of your neck all the way to the exposed clavicle. as if the sight of your slightly swollen lips doesn't suggest that you've probably made out with your affair partner before even entering the premise, not when he can already pinpoint the equally, if not more, bitten lips of clark and your favorite gloss unwiped from the side of his mouth.

fresh, newly gifted marks for the world to see. bruce can picture it, your heated flesh bitten and sucked over and over again the night prior to the event. how clark could easily conjure sweet noises from the back of your throat, how he must've known, must've burnt the taste of your saliva, sweat and salty, pleasured tears into every pore of his tongue until all his appetite caters only to you.

and you're wearing the same damn lapel pins. one of your favorite flowers that he's seen his own comrade wore before in a similar event. it's not just his own rival claiming you, it's you openly showing everyone that you've already been taken.

clark and his children, not yours – he can accept being cheated on, but he'll never allow you the comfort of replacing your own children – conner and jon, stand beside you, sharing the same colors for his own outfit. the man's nose held high, way too high for a man who pretends like he didn't just snatch off his own damn spouse right behind his back.

yet all he could do was squint his eyes, glare profusely, ignore the hastened thumping in his heart, the green envy flooding his vision. teeth clenched in controlled irritation, he's positioned perfectly so the camera's wouldn't easily capture his reaction, but even then does he feel the need for a mediocrum of control, but he can't. he can't control the visceral urge to pull out his kryptonite reserves hidden temptingly inside the batcave; he can't deny just how crazy you're already driving him despite having never felt your own touch for a long, grueling time.

he only snaps out of his stupor when you're only two strides left. when the light hits your sparkling eyes and reflects your obviously lovelorn gaze at the man whose biceps you wrap your hands around, who returns the gaze with a deeper intensity until your attention ultimately shifts to your own husband in front of you.

suddenly, the deafening whispers hollowed itself out.

suddenly, your eyes become dull and lifeless under the chandelier's warm glow.

not unforgivingly bitter, not even a hint of rage— but empty and unthinkingly cold, like the wick of a candle fully blown out. like the silence right after a wave of fireworks.

a warmth that yields, reminding bruce of your love that burned away for year without anymore fuel to sustain it. unrequited, like the presence he never graced you with.

decades worth of training and fighting on the cruel streets of gotham could never prepare bruce for the hammering beats of his chest, it could never quite dull down the feeling of heartbreak encapsulated in one single, desolate stare. he's sure clark could hear his own hastened pulse, his eyes flicker quickly to his own friend's victorious, yet still worried gaze; but nothing else quite matters other than your own swollen lips struggling to make out words and the subtle furrow of your brows at just what to say to the man you thought you'd never see eye to eye.

you look so perfectly dolled up despite being so disturbingly marked up from head to toe.

nothing else matters right now other than having to greet them like normal, he convinces himself, except the fact that he could feel his own sweat running down his flushed neck and his own teeth biting down his lower lips, and his squinted eyes drifting lower and lower from your eyes all the way down to the pridefully displayed hickeys.

nothing else matters, except for bruce's own thoughts meandering on his own fantasies of just what your body would taste like once he's sought out to forcibly take you away from clark's arm and back into his own.

nothing else matters, other than the thoughts of possibly wanting to give you another child when he sees you momentarily distracted by jon pulling on your blazer and whispering about his boredom, only to be lightly scolded with a gentle graze of hands atop his curly hair, or conner's grumbling from beneath his breath about just ditching the greetings and flying off to the buffet, only to be met with your fluttering laughter and a pat on his back, whispering into the boy's ears— that bruce can't pick up with just his hearing, he reminds himself to go over the camera feed soon to enhance the audio, just to hear that lovely voice of yours — words enough to make the metahuman surrender for just a moment; the scene awefully reminds him a lot of the way his own mother used to tell him off with just a loving hush and a pinch of his cheeks—

goodness, you're everything his own children need right now. a guiding light, a dutifully great figure to discipline their rebellious attitudes.

and he gulps, then suddenly, the slacks he chose to wear just feels a tad bit tighter. suddenly, he's grateful that he chose to wear something more loose tonight.

"pleasure to see you, too, bruce." instead of your voice greeting him, instead of bruce finally having to hear you for the first time outside of the cameras his family has set up or hacked all throughout the places you frequently visit, it's clark's voice which breaks through the immersion when it should've been yours greeting him.

"what's up, mister wayne? how's life in the manor without my lovely parent, huh?"

conner follows through with his unwelcoming, all too lighthearted, all too mocking with his question before clark could even silence the young, all too passionate boy's unneeded comment, as if shoving bruce's mistake right in his face would prove something.

it's enough to irk him, really. he really has to remind himself to hold off on the kryptonite, for now.

and right now, all his focus should be on at least charming you enough tonight to convince you to return to your rightful family, as he ignores both clark and conner's greetings, immediately aiming for your wrist to bring it up to his lips.

your surprised yelp doesn't deter him from kissing your knuckles deeply while keeping eye contact with you, the abundance of cheers from the comms attached in his ears doesn't either.

all that matters right now, is that he has his eyes on the prize, and he's not willing to give it up any further.

a/n: firstly this first part is dedicated to both @luffyadolover and @neerathebrightstar !! since it's the former's BIRTHDAY !!! and if you're reading this, i wish to greet you with the happiest celebration with the yummiest cake and hopefully this fic is enough to make u even happier too !! and for the latter, neera, i'd love to thank u for ur unwavering support and talking to me and allowing me to yap about my own series' ! thank you both for your love, mwah mwah 🩷 <3

otherwise, leave comments please ? 🥺 my confidence in my writing has been at an all time low sadly, though i admit that i loved writing about bruce go from angsty to horny to straight up both. this was supposed to be a short fic, why did it suddenly become really long erm??? the second part will be posted tomorrow night !! for context, i always post around 12 to 4:00am at gmt +8 since i'm most active at night !! love y'all ! don't forget to leave remarks since i love reading through them it's like my main motivation.

taglist: @imjustasimp132 , @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff , @chericia , @queenofspades403 , @naina326 , @neerathebrightstar , @lilyalone, @nickey-diano , @tsuniio , @ssak-i , @kore-of-the-underworld , @lollipoppersposts , @peptox , @kdjhubby , @weirdcore-fantasy , @thypplover , @asdfghjklgayblog , @prince-nikko , @phoenixgurl030 , @antionwithadrawingpen , @circe143 , @ferchu0406 , @kittzu , @yuyuzi-ling , @moonieper , @esthxio , @ryuushou , @nickey-diano , @ssak-i

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