#kryptonian reader

[gatorbites-imagines]

Lmao the kryptonian reader would def be called daddy by makrs even tho he is younger or in the same age as evil marks

Kryptonian Reader: *susshing an alt mark by putting his finger on his lips*

Alt Mark: *suckles on it*

Kryptonian Reader: *pikachu face*

Kryptonian Reader: *spanking sinister mark because he tried to bite his fingers*

Sinistet Mark: *Biting his lips while smiling while the other marks looked at him with jealousy*

Kryptonian Reader: *Flies by into the sun just so he could regenerate after battle*

Alternate Marks: *Swooning because not even the strongest Viltrumite could survive going inside a sun/star*

Seeing the reader fly into the sun and come back out healed up (glowing, stronger than before, etc etc) would be enough to have them salivating. Well, anything you do got them doing that but like. This? This is extra hot.

I feel reader does the sun thing when he's fighting thragg or smth, cuz sure kryptonians are men of steel but even steel bends sometimes,.and gets tired.

I see the vincibles being really curious about it, cuz they're all still nerds at heart. They're also fans of your ice breath and heat vision, especially your ice breath...

[pastelclovds]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing: debbie x kryptonian!male!reader x nolan

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

word count: 1.5k

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

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

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

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

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

“i’m sorry—”

“you have nothing to be sorry about.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

nobody else but yourself, debbie and nol—

…nobody else but debbie and youself existed…

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

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

where did nolan go, and was he okay?

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

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

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

[thatrandomidiot182]

Glimpse of Another Life

Variant! Invincible/Mark Grayson × Kryptonian! Reader

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

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

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"I thought I'd find you here."

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

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

God you wish he'd just shut up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'm not that person..."

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn't.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

After all, this isn't your Mark.

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

Your Mark would never willingly speak so adoringly of you.

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

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

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

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

"Why are you here, Mark?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So what can you do? What should you do?

What will you do?

What you always do–

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

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

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

"Prove it."

–Save your planet.

[escarmargott]

MINORS DNI 18+

clark kent x reader smut

just some disgusting pwp to start the day

SUPERMAN is a freak, and is especially freaky after a big intergalactic alien fight. Hair no longer neatly gelled, his curls messy and sweaty, his face covered in dirt, sweat and whatever alien goo he encountered during the fight. Costume torn in the most convenient places, showing a muscular shoulder, thickly corded back muscles or a sliver of the skin on his thighs. Kryptonians don't produce body odour of any kind, so the only musk you can smell (and lick and taste) on him afterwards is usually the salty tang of sweat and a smoky undertone from speeding and user laser-vision.

SUPERMAN climbs on top of you like a bear after a fight, nuzzling his sweaty hair into your neck, muscling a thigh into the space between yours. "Babe," He groans, using his big hands to push your thighs apart, his callused thumbs rubbing small circles on the inner skin, enjoying the softness of your flesh. You whimper, the mound between your legs growing damp and sticky. With his supersenses, he definitely knows it's there. His grin widens, lazy but sharklike. He barely even had the patience to shed his torn suit, scraps of elastic blue costume hanging off of his shoulders. Your small hands scrabble and pull at his ruined costume, trying to expose more of his muscled body. He dips his head low, nuzzling at your moist throbbing mound. "Babe," He rasps again, tearing your underwear with a pull of his strong fingers, reducing you to the same state of undress as he.

SUPERMAN fucks nasty and sloppy, with barely any more coordination and energy left in his body, but still using his remaining strength to lift you up with his hands and thrust into you. The room is filled with the sounds of wet flesh slapping repeatedly on each other, along with the rumbled low moans and high-pitched whimpers. His cock almost slips out several times, coated in a generous layer of sticky white bodily fluids. Your eyes roll back as you slump onto his strong body, moaning open-mouthed as he speeds up the space, snarling and moaning. "ugh, ugh, ugh.... Cla-Clark..." He smirks, bending you in half even more, his thrusts relentless. "Who's Clark, babe? I'm Superman."

[butwhyduh]

some fluffy supersis!reader x dami?

“You know I can see through this if I wanted,” you teased as Damian tied the fabric over your eyes. He chuckled.

“Nope. It’s lead lined,” he replied. You tried to look only to see nothing.

“Wow. You are trying to keep it secret.”

Damian grabbed your hand with one hand while his other held your other shoulder as he guided you. You grinned and held your hands out to catch yourself if needed.

“Where are we going?” You asked as he guided you up stairs. Damian laughed softly next up your ear.

“Have a little patience. Almost there. Last step,” he answered. Damian stopped you and turned your shoulders toward some location. You held his hand in both of yours.

“Now?” You asked. He laughed again.

“Almost,” he teased before kissing your cheek. You smiled. “Now,” Damian finally said while unwrapping the fabric over your eyes. You saw a fluttering out the window but more importantly say a pair of puppies on the floor. Cute little brown floofs that were wrestling on the rug.

“Aww,” you said moving to pet them both. They jumped around and you ducked your hand before one nibbled on it. “Don’t break your tooth!”

Damian bent down to pet one behind the ear. “I talked to Clark and he said you can have a puppy.”

“Really? But you got 2.”

“Yeah, they came in a pair. I’ll keep one if Clark says no to two,” Damian said as he sat on the floor. The puppies jumped over his lanky legs.

“So we’ll have puppies? Are they gonna share custody? Spend some time at mom’s and other at dad’s?” You teased. He rolled his eyes but his body language was still happy.

“We could. We could. I mean, in just a few months I’m going to move out into my own place,” Damian replied and you turned to look at him.

“Really? How long have you been planning this? Where are you going?”

“Just an apartment downtown. I’ll be 18, you know,” he answered scratching behind the ear of one puppy. The other roughly chewed on a rope toy you held. Damian looked down at the dog and avoided eye contact. “And I was wondering if you wanted to move with me.”

“Oh. Oh wow. Really?” You said looking at him. He shrugged and nodded without looking up. “Dami, are you asking to move in with you?”

“Well… yes,” he muttered. It was cute when he was shy with emotions.

“Absolutely. Wait, what does your dad think about me moving into Gotham, though?” You asked.

“I can move to metropolis? There’s a good university for you to go to there,” he suggested. “Close to your family. Far from mine. Both great.”

You set the puppy down and you practically pounced on Damian in a hug. He almost fell over at your strength. “You’d move Robin to metropolis for me?? We’ll look into everything in both cities. You’re so sweet,” you said kissing his cheek and lips quickly and this time he fell back.

“Don’t smother me!” He gasped out and you laughed.

“I’m gonna double smother you!” You kissed all over his face and feeling that it was play time, the dogs jumped all over you both too.

“What is going on in here?” Tim said walking in the room. “Ew. Don’t make me get a spray bottle on you. This is a communal space. I don’t want to see all this…. Teenage hormones.”

Damian threw the rope toy at Tim as he left with a drawn middle finger.

“We should get something with a balcony or skylight. I always wanted a jacuzzi,” you said and Damian rolled his eyes with a smile as you started planning places. “A housekeeper would be nice. I always break plates when I wash them…”

[hattersrabbit]

GOODNESS INCARNATE

yandere avengers x kryptonian! reader | sfw

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

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

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

next | series

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

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

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

The last surviving Kryptonians.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Determination.

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

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

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

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

Sunshine for them to bask themselves in.

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

Control of yourself is what you had.

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

Good in human beings.

The avengers knew better.

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

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

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

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

Made them turn darker.

Wanda knew that better than anyone.

Bucky hated himself for it.

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

They hid it well.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They knew better, and told you that.

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

Wanda didn’t seem to like the change.

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

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

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

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

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

She would be careful.

Get Krypto’s trust was her plan.

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

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

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

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

Still too unforgiving of this horrible world.

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

Natasha would share a look with him.

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

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

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

A body like his own and invincible to harm.

At least they thought.

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

Bruce was terrified.

Peter and Wanda beside themselves.

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

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

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

Don't ask why your mind seemed played with.

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

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

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

To keep there goodness, and to never be corrupted.

To be good.

[annlyticalarchive]

CHAPTER EIGHT: The Dinner

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

Mark Grayson X Kryptonian/Clark Kent! Reader

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

w/c: 6k

a/n: she’s real lengthy cause i just wanted to write the entire day all in one go, so a bit jumpy, but otherwise it’d be too short

“Please. Stop.” You practically begged, burying your burning face into your hands.

“Dude. No. You’ve got to be kidding me.” Jimmy frowned down at you from where he stood. “You were right there!”

“I wasn’t anywhere, Jimmy,” you groaned, muffled by your palms.

“I’m sorry, what are we talking about?” Lois asked, stepping into the room and tossing her bag onto her desk. She paused, taking in the scene. Jimmy towering over you while you slumped in your chair, using your bag as a pathetic shield. Her brow lifted. “Did I walk in on something tragic or hilarious?”

Jimmy turned to her with all the drama of a soap opera. “She had the perfect opportunity! Written in the stars! And she blew it!”

Lois blinked. “Perfect opportunity?”

Jimmy threw a hand toward you. “Her and Mark!”

Lois's eyes lit up as she dropped into her chair and leaned forward eagerly. “Wait—did you and Mark finally-”

“No! Nothing happened!” you rushed out, your voice cracking slightly as you sat bolt upright.

“Because Kansas here totally chickened out!” Jimmy cried. He grabbed you by the shoulders and gave you a gentle, exaggerated shake. You didn’t resist, just rag-dolled in resignation.

“I didn’t chicken out!” you argued, but Jimmy immediately steamrolled you.

“You had your ‘totally-not-a-romantic-moment’ four days ago. You had to bail halfway through because your Ma called, and since then, what?” He stepped back, arms crossed like an exasperated teacher. You doubted that even if Jimmy knew the true reason the moment ended he would agree with how quickly you pulled back and ended it.

“I’ve been moving in with you! I’m not letting Ma and Pa pay for some overpriced apartment when I don’t need it.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Jimmy said with a dismissive wave. “Grab your phone. Text him. Call him. Send a pigeon. I don’t care.”

“Wait, wait—you haven’t talked to him since?” Lois gaped, her tone scandalized and seemingly personally offended.

“I’ve been moving in with Jimmy!” you repeated, gesturing wildly between the two of them.

“That’s not a reason,” Lois scoffed. “You’ve been after Mark Grayson since the week you moved here.”

“Not that long—” you muttered under your breath.

But they both heard.

Jimmy gasped like you’d just insulted his mother. “Girl, you were telling me all about him on our second week here.”

“He was my only other friend!”

“Friends don’t swoon over friends,” Lois added, grinning now.

You groaned and slumped so low in your chair you nearly fell out of it. “Can we not do this right now? Please?”

Jimmy pointed dramatically. “Coward.”

Lois nodded solemnly. “Hopeless romantic coward.”

“You’re both traitors,” you mumbled.

Jimmy smirked. “You’re welcome.”

A beat passed.

You glanced at your phone in your lap.

It was stupid. It really was. But you could still feel the lingering warmth from when you and Mark had sat next to each other on the couch, your shoulders brushing. The quiet way he’d looked at you right before everything had gone sideways and you both had to leave. How you both said awkward goodbyes after the fire had been taken care of and both separated to shower off the ash.

You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it.

Or him.

Lois raised a brow. “Just text him. It’s not like he doesn’t like you back. The guy looked like a kicked puppy the last time he came by asking if you were okay.”

That made you pause. “He came by?”

Jimmy shrugged. “Three times. I told him you were ‘in the middle of a highly delicate nesting process.’”

“Nesting proc- You’re the worst,” you angrily whispered.

“And yet, you live with me now,” he shot back smugly.

Your fingers hovered over your phone screen.

Then, against your better judgment, you opened your messages and typed:

You: Hey, you busy today?

You stared at it for a long second.

Then hit send.

Lois gasped like you’d just pulled the sword from the stone. Jimmy clapped his hands together like a proud coach. Both leaning over your shoulder, staring at your phone screen.

And you?

You wanted to crawl under the desk.

But your phone buzzed less than ten seconds later.

Marker: nope. want to hang out?

You didn’t answer right away.

Because unfortunately your heart was doing something incredibly stupid and fluttery.

“Okay,” Jimmy said, already smug as hell. “Now we just need to pick out what you’re wearing.”

You squinted up at him, “No you won’t. Cause it’s not a date.”

“Oh, honey,” Lois said with a knowing smirk, “everything’s a date when you like him that much.”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

“I’m telling you, man, you just gotta ask,” Rex said, racking the bar back onto the bench press stand with a soft metallic clank. His voice was slightly strained, but smug as ever.

Mark was across the room on the treadmill, not even winded despite the digital display blinking 50 MPH. “She’s been busy,” he replied, adjusting his footing as he slowed the pace. “She just moved out of her dad’s place. She’s crashing with a friend now.”

“A friend?” Rex echoed, grabbing a towel and wiping the back of his neck.

“Someone from her work. I think it was Jimmy?”

Rex sat up straighter, eyebrows lifting as he let the towel drape around his neck. “Jimmy?”

Mark glanced over but kept jogging, reducing the speed from fifty to forty, then thirty.

“Hate to be that guy,” Rex said, folding his arms on the bar, “but that doesn’t exactly sound like a girl’s name.”

Mark sighed, jabbing the cooldown button. “It’s not. But her friend Lois didn’t have space, and Jimmy offered.”

Rex gave him a skeptical look. “Dude.”

Mark finally stepped off the treadmill once it slowed to a stop, grabbing a water bottle and uncapping it with a flick. “What?”

“Dude,” Rex repeated, sitting up straighter. “Using your own words: She’s gorgeous. Smart. Witty in that way where she might kiss you or kill you depending on your tone but you don’t care which. And she’s living with another guy.”

Mark rolled his eyes and took a long drink. “She’s not into Jimmy.”

“You sure Jimmy knows that?”

That made Mark pause.

Just for a second. 

He hadn’t seriously thought about it. But now he could picture it. Jimmy and her sitting on the couch, laughing at some dumb movie, brushing hands as they reached for the same popcorn bowl. It made his stomach twist like someone wrung it out like a towel.

“I trust her,” he said finally. The words sounded firm. But quieter than before.

Rex raised his hands in surrender. “Hey, I’m not trying to mess with your head. I’m just saying, you like her. You’ve liked her for weeks. Maybe months.”

Mark stayed silent, drying his face with his towel.

“And if you don’t say something soon?” Rex continued, a little softer now. “Someone else will.”

Mark dropped the towel onto the bench. “Yeah, well, the worst she could say is no, right?”

“Nope,” Rex said. “She could say yes just to be nice and then secretly hate the whole date. Then things get awkward, and boom, you’ve got a front-row seat to her slow emotional withdrawal.”

Mark groaned, quickly starting to hate the ‘new and improved’ Rex. “Thanks, man. Real encouraging.”

“Anytime,” Rex grinned, before glancing at Mark’s phone buzzing on the bench. “Hey, I think your paranoia just got a signal.”

Mark turned, still toweling his hair. He picked up his phone and froze.

You: Hey, you busy today?

His heart stuttered.

Rex leaned over his shoulder. “That her?”

Mark didn’t answer. His hands, despite being super-strong and practically invulnerable, suddenly felt clumsy as he quickly typed back:

Mark: nope. want to hang out?

He stared at the screen for half a breath before sending it.

Rex let out a low whistle. “That’s right, shoot your shot, Grayson.”

Mark gave him a look but couldn’t help the way a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

You were counting down the seconds til the end of the day. Not cause you were excited, no. You were dreading it, stewing in your own nervousness. 

Nerves that only continued to fray as Lois began to color code superhero sightings in the city. All so she’d know just where to be to corner Superwoman.

You weren’t planning on ditching Jimmy and Lois today. Really, you weren’t.

But the screech of tires outside, jagged, grinding, unmistakable, tore through the air like a gunshot.

“I think I just heard Perry, I’ll go see what he wants-“ You quickly spouted out the excuse to Jimmy as you left.

Lois groaned. “I was just getting to the good part of my plan.”

Your feet hit the rooftop. Your skirt caught the wind as you shed your workday form like a second skin. The sound of metal crumpling echoed in your skull, your heartbeat syncing to it as the world turned into a blur of wind and motion.

When you found the source, no more than seven blocks away, you sucked in a breath.

Pure chaos.

A multivehicle crash. At least eight cars, a city bus tipped onto its side, and your eyes narrowed, a massive oil tanker jackknifed in the middle of the road, its side scraped and dented, a thin line of oil leaking like a trail of blood. Sparks flared beneath a crushed engine nearby, threatening to ignite the whole street into a funeral pyre.

And people were still inside.

Your boots hit asphalt before the dust had time to settle. Glass cracked beneath your heels. You didn’t wait for the sirens in the distance. You couldn’t.

One second to survey.

Three seconds to listen.

People still trapped. You heard them. Heartbeats, cries, sobs muffled through twisted metal.

The bus was the nearest, tipped at an angle. The windshield had already been shattered from the outside by someone, probably trying to help, but a jagged mess of seats and window frames made crawling in impossible. You gritted your teeth and pressed your shoulder to the roof. One careful push. Not enough to send it flying, just enough. A soft groan of metal echoed as you rocked it back into a level position. Not elegant, but effective.

“Hey!” you called into the bus. “I’m going to get you all out—just hang on!”

A child’s wail answered you, and it nearly broke your focus. You reached for the bent side door, pried it open, and crouched low to crawl in. The smoke was thick here, stinging your eyes, but you moved quickly, lifting a broken seat, guiding a terrified child by the hand.

One by one, you brought them out. Two, three, four kids. The fifth was wedged between the back row and the emergency door, glass flecked across her ponytail.

“I got you,” you whispered, voice soft.

She didn’t move.

You narrowed your eyes. Still breathing. Just frozen.

You reached for her gently, tugging the bent seat with just enough force to slip her out without jolting her. Her arms wrapped around your neck instinctively as you flew her to the curb where EMTs were just arriving.

That was when the second heartbeat entered your awareness, one you knew well.

“Need a hand?” Atom Eve called, descending from above in a gentle shimmer of pink light.

You exhaled, half in relief. “More like ten.”

She gave you a quick nod before her eyes scanned the wreckage. “Jesus.”

“Oil tanker in the center. Sparks from a nearby car. We don’t have much time.”

Eve was already at work. A wave of pink flickered from her palms, and the shapes of cars began to shift, gently and precisely. Metal twisted, hinges unbolted without shattering, roofs peeled open like sardine cans.

You moved toward the cluster of crumpled sedans, grabbing one door Eve had loosened and tossing it aside. A man inside coughed as smoke rolled around his feet. “Sir, I need you to stay with me, okay?”

He nodded faintly, his forehead bleeding. You picked him up in your arms and flew him to the triage area the paramedics had begun setting up. Then another. A woman sobbing for her dog trapped in the backseat. You carried both. And again. And again.

You lost count after six.

The heat from the engine fires was suffocating now. You floated above the tanker briefly, wind catching in your cape as your eyes scanned the cab.

The driver, still inside, seemingly unconscious.

You didn’t hesitate.

The door was jammed. You wedged your fingers between the seam and pulled. The hinges screamed in protest, but the metal peeled open. You slipped inside the cabin, the acrid smell of diesel thick in your nose. The man slumped forward, groaning as you reached him.

“Hey,” you said softly, “I’ve got you.”

He looked up blearily, blood dripping down his cheek. “Don’t… let it blow…”

You smiled grimly. “Not planning on it.”

Then you felt it. The flicker. The spark from another car, a jolt of electricity leaping through the air like a matchstick.

“Eve!” you shouted.

The moment you cleared the tanker with the driver in arms, Eve’s hands snapped up. She didn’t create a shield. She didn’t need to.

Instead, she reached forward and rewrote the air.

You felt it instantly.

The pressure dropped. The oxygen vanished from the tanker’s perimeter in the space of a heartbeat. The spark leapt and fizzled.

A puff. No more than that.

The burst of light and heat was no more dangerous than a candle being snuffed. Even with the gasoline, the fire couldn’t breathe.

You landed, heart pounding. “You’re amazing.”

Eve gave you a tight smile, wiping sweat from her brow. “I have my moments.”

The crash site was nearly cleared now. Sirens roared in the background. Firefighters doused remaining flames. EMTs swarmed the injured. And in the middle of it, you and Eve hovered side by side, soot staining your cheeks, wind tugging at your capes.

“Is this your first tanker?” she asked after a beat.

“Yeah,” you exhaled. “You?”

“Third,” she said with a sigh. “The second one exploded, learned that way bubbles don’t do much.”

“You okay?” she asked gently. “You’re new to this, aren’t you?”

You looked at the fire, now down to flickering embers. The people. The children. The families holding each other behind the caution tape. “Yeah. Not new to helping, but new to helping here. I didn’t know there could be so many problems.”

Atom Eve chuckled as she nodded. “Yeah, you’d be surprised. You did good, for what it’s worth.”

You both stood in silence for a while after you let out a sheepish, “Thank you.”

And with a polite goodbye from both of you, the two of you flew in opposite directions. You swiftly back to the Daily Planet, and Atom Eve toward the countryside with a buzz.

It was nearly an hour later when you finally returned to the Planet. Hair still windswept as you desperately tried to put it back into place, clothes rumpled from how quickly you put them back on, glasses a bit askew.

You landed in the alley behind the building, tucked your shirt in, combed fingers through your tangled hair once more, and slipped back through the rear entrance.

You almost made it up the stairs when Lois caught your arm.

“Where did you—” she stopped, eyes narrowing. “You smell like smoke.”

“Just a coffee run,” you replied, a little too fast. “For Perry. And the others.”

Jimmy appeared a second later and held up your phone. “You left this.”

You sighed, rubbing your eyes under your glasses with a sheepish look. “Thanks.”

Lois crossed her arms, inspecting you with a look that made you nervous. “So, Superwoman saved the day. Again.”

You didn’t answer.

Jimmy smiled. “And we just barely missed her. Again.”

You swallowed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there-“

Lois grabbed her coat. “Ah, it’s fine, I’ll get her sooner or later. But tonight, you’re with Mark. No excuses.”

You opened your mouth to protest.

Jimmy handed you your phone again. “And maybe answer him, he texted you like half an hour ago.”

You blinked. “He texted me?”

Lois and Jimmy exchanged grins.

You checked your phone.

Marker: mom wants to see you again. dinner at my place sound okay?

also would you mind if i told her? makes things easier. promise

You swore you actually flinched as you read it. You didn’t even reveal yourself to Mark, honestly it did surprise you how quickly he figured it out when Jimmy and Lois haven’t yet.

Regardless, you didn’t feel as nervous as you probably should’ve at the notion of Mark telling Miss Grayson about you.

Because Mark was Invincible, Omni-Man was Mister Grayson. It’s not like you’re anything new to her. It shouldn’t change her view on you.

Shouldn’t, at least you hope. So, you typed up your reply.

You: Of course, I don’t mind. If you think it’s easier.

Also, should I bring anything? It’s been a while since I’ve seen Miss Grayson.

The response came quickly.

Marker: just yourself. see you at 6:30

You stared at it for a moment. Then scoffed.

Yeah, okay. Like you weren’t going to bring something.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

“Why does it smell like a bakery in here?”

You didn’t even flinch at Jimmy’s voice. You were too focused on carefully swiping cinnamon glaze across a pan of warm, golden rolls. The heat still curled off the metal tray, filling the kitchen with that sweet, buttery scent of home.

“Hm?” you hummed distractedly, licking a bit of icing off your knuckle. “Oh. I’m having dinner with Mark and his mom tonight, so I’m trying to quickly make something to bring.”

Jimmy strolled into the kitchen like he owned the place, dropping his camera bag onto the center counter. He leaned against the island and gave you a smirk that was all teeth and trouble.

“You’re having dinner?” he asked, drawing out the words like he was savoring them. “With him and his mom?”

You didn’t even look up. You just pointed the icing knife at him like a weapon. “Stop right there. I did not move in just to get bullied.”

Jimmy shrugged, heading to the fridge and rummaging for his water bottle. “Maybe you should’ve moved in with Lois.”

You snorted. “Lois would be worse, and we both know that.”

Jimmy reemerged with his bottle and twisted the cap off with a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, she would’ve probably threatened to tell him for you by now.”

You rolled your eyes and went back to brushing the glaze, but your face burned hotter than the oven behind you.

“I will… eventually,” you mumbled.

Jimmy raised a brow. “Will you?”

You didn’t answer, because you didn’t know.

All you knew was that your hands had started quickly moving on instinct the second Mark confirmed dinner. Flour flying, ingredients lining the counter, picture of your mom’s old handwritten recipe card pulled up on your phone.

Something about Debbie Grayson that always made you want to bring your best. Not just because she was Mark’s mom. Because she had that kind of calm, quietly observant grace that made you want to leave a good impression. Even months after you first met her.

That, and baking was easier than thinking about what you were really nervous about.

“Look, if you help me plate these I’ll give you the extra,” You tell him as you point the glazing knife to the cupboard you had placed your Tupperware in.

Jimmy immediately moved to grab it as you rolled your eyes.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Holy shit you can’t do this.

Because here you were, standing on the front porch of Mark Grayson’s family home like it was a casual Tuesday and not the single most nerve-wracking moment of your week.

You’d knocked. Softly. Because ringing the bell felt too loud, too aggressive, and maybe you’d heard Mark mention once that his little half-brother had an early bedtime. You didn’t want to be the reason Debbie Grayson’s evening was derailed by a cranky toddler.

But now, the silence stretched.

You started to sweat and your nerves made you second-guess everything.

Maybe you should’ve rung the doorbell. Maybe knocking was too quiet. What if no one heard you? What if you had to knock again and it came off weirdly desperate?

You raised your hand, hesitating-

And the door opened.

Miss Grayson, Debbie, stood there with a tired but genuine smile, dressed in a cozy sweater, the smell of something roasting in the oven curling around her like perfume.

She said your name warmly, a little surprise and a lot of affection in her voice. “It’s been too long. Come in, dinner’s almost done.”

Her easy familiarity tugged something in your chest loose. You smiled before you even realized it.

“Hi, Miss Grayson,” you said as you stepped inside, slipping off your shoes by the door. “Sorry I’m early.”

“You’re not early, you’re punctual. Mark could learn a thing or two,” she said lightly as she took the pan from your hands.

“You didn’t need to bring anything,” she added, already carrying the cinnamon rolls toward the kitchen.

“I know,” you said, brushing your hands on your jeans as you followed after her. “But since it’s been a while… I figured it couldn’t hurt.”

She glanced over her shoulder, smiling again. “Still just as thoughtful, huh?”

You ducked your head, trying not to fidget, the warmth in her voice grounding you a little, but not enough to stop the swirl of nerves in your chest.

The house smelled incredible, roasted vegetables, fresh bread, and something savory bubbling on the stove that made your stomach rumble in betrayal. There were signs of life everywhere: a tiny pair of sneakers by the couch, a stack of well-loved books by the armrest, a toy truck half-tucked under the table like it had been rolled and forgotten mid-play.

You hesitated in the entryway of the kitchen. “Did, uh… did Mark tell you—”

“What you are?” she finished without missing a beat, her voice steady as she set the cinnamon rolls on the counter. “He did.”

You stiffened, hands tightening in your sleeves. “…It doesn’t change anything, does it?”

Debbie stirred the bubbling pot of pasta in front of her, and said plainly, “It does.”

Your heart dropped.

But then she glanced over her shoulder and gave you a look, warm, firm, knowing. “Just not in the way you’re worried about.” She nodded toward the stairs. “Go find Mark, will you? He should be with Oliver.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said automatically, voice soft, and turned to head upstairs, your heart still rattling behind your ribs like a shaken jar.

As you climbed, you heard voices, one high-pitched and stubborn, the other low and exasperated.

When you reached the landing and peeked into the room at the end of the hall, you spotted Mark kneeling on the floor, half-wrestling a shirt onto a small, squirming body. A very purple, half-clothed six-year-old was lying face-down on the carpet like a defiant pancake.

“You have to wear a shirt,” Mark was saying, his voice tight with patience as he tried to coax one arm into a sleeve.

“No! No, no, no!” Oliver shrieked, kicking his feet and worming his way out from under Mark’s grip like a particularly slippery eel. “That one feels weird!”

“You. Have. To. Wear. It.” Mark repeated slowly, using the same tone people used to explain taxes to toddlers. He had one of Oliver’s arms gently pinned, holding the shirt half-on like he was trying to clothe a cat.

You stood in the doorway, biting your lip to keep from laughing. But a laugh must’ve escaped because Mark heard you.

Mark glanced up, his face a mix of exasperation and helpless affection, and when he saw you, he immediately flushed, sheepish. “Oh- hey.”

Oliver twisted around to look at you upside-down, wide deep purple eyes blinking before he said flatly, “You smell like cinnamon.”

“Thank you?” you offered, stepping into the room.

“I hate cinnamon,” Oliver muttered, flopping back down again with dramatic flair.

“Oh. I’m sorry?” You quickly added.

Mark gave you his dimpled smile, and then, as if remembering the chaos he was mid-battle with, “I swear he was mostly dressed two minutes ago.”

“I’m not wearing it!” Oliver quickly and loudly insisted again, flipping over on his stomach dramatically and kicking his legs like a dying fish. “I don’t like that one!”

“Do you need backup?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mark groaned, giving up and sitting back on his heels. “Only if you know how to win a war with a shirtless child.”

You crouched a few feet away so Oliver could see you.

“Hey, Oliver,” you said gently. “What’s wrong with the shirt?”

“Feels weird,” he muttered, rolling onto his side and glaring at the garment like it had personally betrayed him.

“What if,” you said carefully, “you wore the shirt now, and then after dinner, you could pick what you wear for the rest of the night. Pajamas, no shirt, whatever you want.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Even dinosaur pajamas?”

You looked at Mark. He shrugged. “Sure.”

Oliver looked between you both. “…Fine,” he grumbled, flopping his arm back into the sleeve with a dramatic huff.

Mark mouthed a silent thank you as he finally managed to tug the shirt down properly.

“Who are you?” Oliver asked bluntly, raising a hand to tug at his wild hair.

You bent slightly, offering your hand and your name with a polite smile. “I’m your brother’s friend.”

Oliver didn’t take your whole hand. Instead, he gripped your thumb with a small but determined fist. “I’m Oliver.”

“It’s very nice to meet you, Oliver,” you replied, straightening up again but he didn’t let go of your thumb. He just stared up at you like he was trying to memorize your face.

“He talks about you a lot,” Oliver said casually as the three of you made your way toward the stairs.

“Does he now?” you asked, raising a brow as you glanced at Mark.

Mark, now behind you, gave his little brother a look. A very red-faced look. “Oliver—”

“Uh-huh,” Oliver barreled on, oblivious. “He says he likes your glasses. And there’s pictures of you in his room.”

You almost tripped down the stairs. “Pictures?”

“The, uh—photo booth ones,” Mark rushed to clarify. “From senior year. Remember? That fair downtown with Lois and Jimmy?”

You did remember. It was originally you, Jimmy, and Lois, but William and Mark quickly photobombed the three of you. You also remembered the one where you were mid-laugh, and Mark was trying not to completely fall as he was barely balancing in the booth. That one was your favorite.

As you reached the bottom step, Oliver looked up at you very seriously. “Mom says to be careful going down the stairs.”

Then, just like that, he released your thumb and bolted off toward the kitchen, yelling, “Dinner time! I’m starving!”

You turned to Mark, hands on your hips, giving him your best mock-accusatory stare. “You said he was a baby.”

“He was,” Mark defended, already sounding tired. “He just ages fast. Half Thraxan, it’s in their biology.”

You tilted your head, trying not to smile. “And that would explain the purple?”

Mark chuckled. “Pretty much.”

Together, you followed the trail of Oliver’s excited shouting into the kitchen. Debbie was already setting the table. Three plates laid out, one slightly smaller plastic one with a bright green plastic fork beside it.

“Smells amazing,” you said honestly as you stepped in. The cinnamon rolls you’d brought had already been unwrapped and plated beside a loaf of bread, and the pasta on the stove was thick and rich with a tomato sauce that made your mouth water.

You took the chair next to him while Mark slid into the seat across from you, brushing his hand through his hair and throwing you a small smile.

Dinner was surprisingly comfortable.

Debbie asked about work. Comfortable and grounded questions about the Daily Planet and your internship, not a single mention of your other identity. It was refreshing. You weren’t trying to dodge double meanings or cover stories. You could just be yourself. Or, at least, the version of yourself that didn’t wear a cape.

There were little moments, quiet glances, where you caught Mark looking at you, a gentle smile tugging at the corner of his mouth like he wasn’t even trying to hide it. And when you looked back, he didn’t look away. Just held your gaze like he wanted to remember every second.

Halfway through the meal, Oliver asked with absolutely zero warning, “Are you gonna kiss her?”

You choked on your water. Mark’s fork clattered loudly against his plate.

“I’m just asking,” Oliver continued innocently, scooping up more noodles and adding an obscene amount of shredded cheese. “You said she was pretty and smart and you liked her, so—”

“Okay!” Debbie cut in, reaching for her glass of wine. “Let’s maybe not interrogate our dinner guests, alright? Why don’t you tell us what you learned with your tutor today?”

Oliver perked right up. “We learned the Earth has layers! Like a big cake with a crunchy outside! And I did subtraction problems with three digits and I only got three wrong!”

Mark buried his face in his hands while you tried so hard not to laugh.

“And is there dessert?” Oliver asked the moment he cleared his plate, completely ignoring the fact that half the sauce was still on his face.

“Only if you finish your food,” Debbie said, giving him a pointed look.

That was all the motivation Oliver needed. He inhaled the rest of his meal like it was a race and immediately started eyeing the tray of cinnamon rolls.

A brief negotiation followed. Oliver wanted three. Debbie allowed one. He pouted the entire time he was eating it, but judging from the way he declared it was “the best ever,” you didn’t take the pouting personally.

Debbie tried one next and gave you a knowing nod. “These are amazing. Seriously, thank you.”

You smiled, suddenly a little self-conscious under the attention. “I’m glad you like them.”

After dessert, Oliver was excused and took off toward the living room with the last few bites of his roll in hand. Debbie started clearing dishes, waving you off when you tried to help.

“You’re a guest,” she insisted. “Go. Relax. You’ve already done plenty.”

So you followed Mark to the front door. The evening air was cooler than earlier, soft and quiet in that comfortable suburban way that made the sky feel bigger.

Mark hesitated, standing with his hand on the doorframe as you stepped out onto the porch.

“I—” he started, then stopped. Scratched the back of his neck. “That was… nice. Right?”

You turned toward him, smile tilting upward. “Yeah. It was really nice.”

He shifted his weight between his feet, glancing down the street for a second before glancing back at you. “Sorry about Oliver. He’s, uh… blunt.”

“I like him,” you said honestly. “He’s a good kid.”

There was a quiet moment. The kind that stretched, but didn’t strain. The kind that made your heart beat a little faster.

You spoke first, voice just a little softer. “So… was tonight the date?”

Mark blinked. “What?”

You shrugged, hands tucked into your sleeves as you looked at him. “Dinner with your mom, you staring at me across the table, your brother trying to ruin your life, felt pretty date-adjacent.”

He laughed, a real laugh this time. “God, I didn’t mean for it to be.”

You smiled, tilting your head. “But it kinda was.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah. It kinda was.”

Silence again. But not awkward. Just something waiting.

“So,” he said, clearing his throat. “How about a real one?”

You raised an eyebrow. “A real one?”

“Just us. No siblings. No mom. Just… maybe something simple. Coffee? Lunch? Like we normally do, but… A date this time?”

You bit your lip, trying and failing to hide the smile creeping up your face. “I’d like that.”

Mark looked a little stunned. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

He stepped down onto the porch beside you, hands still in his pockets. “Cool. Cool, okay. I’ll text you.”

“You better.”

You were both smiling now.

As you turned to walk toward the sidewalk, you heard him call your name softly behind you.

You looked back. “Yeah?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck again. “Don’t make me find you in that labyrinth, Kansas.”

You gave him one last smile. warm, sure, and more than a little teasing. “I won’t.”

Then you turned and walked into the night, only letting a big, dumb smile break across your face as you all but leap into the air as you soar to your apartment.

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

The second you touched down on the roof of your apartment, you practically stumbled and floated all the way to your apartment. Pushing the door open loudly.

“Jimmy!” you called as you kicked the door shut behind you, already peeling off your jacket.

He looked up from his laptop on the couch, half a sandwich in his mouth. “You’re back early—wait, why are you—”

You flopped onto the side of the couch like a falling tree, flopping down with a dramatic groan and a glowing face.

Jimmy blinked, then narrowed his eyes. “...Did you get a date?”

“I got a date!” you crowed, hands thrown into the air.

“Finally!” Jimmy shouted, slamming his sandwich on the coffee table like a touchdown celebration. “God, it’s like watching the slowest will-they-won’t-they in the history of people with super strength!”

“Shut up!” You laughed and threw a pillow at him. “You’re so annoying.”

He hugged the pillow dramatically. “And yet! You still choose to live with me.”

You couldn’t even argue. Not tonight. Not with the buzz still in your bones.

“Seriously though,” he said, sitting up again and giving you a gentler look. “You deserve something good. I’m glad it’s him.”

You paused, a little caught off guard by the sincerity.

“Thanks, Jimmy,” you said quietly, smiling as you headed toward your room.

“I better get a full outfit preview before this date happens!” he called after you.

“Only if you promise not to sabotage it!” you yelled back.

“No promises!”

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Across the city, in a much messier dorm room full of laundry piles and action figures and one half-finished psych paper on a glowing screen, Mark Grayson flopped face-down onto his bed.

William leaned out of their shared bathroom, toothbrush in his mouth. “You’re making a weird noise. Is that joy or agony?”

“Joy,” Mark mumbled into the comforter, voice muffled. “Definitely joy.”

William walked in and leaned against the wall, still brushing his teeth. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with someone finally asking someone else on a date?”

Mark turned his head just enough to give him an empty glare.

“Please, I’m not an idiot. You’ve been basically heart-eyes for months. What happened?”

Mark finally sat up, running a hand through his hair. His face was flushed, and he couldn’t stop smiling. “We had dinner at my place. With Mom. And Oliver.”

“Oh wow. You brought her to meet the family before the first date? Bold move, Grayson.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be like that!” Mark groaned, leaning back against the wall next to the bathroom. “It just kinda happened. But then she left and I asked her on a real date. She said yes.”

William gave him an exaggerated thumbs up, toothbrush still sticking out of his mouth like a cigar. “My man. Finally.”

“Shut up,” Mark muttered, but he was grinning again.

“So what’s the plan? Where’s the first date going down?”

“Nowhere fancy,” Mark said. “Coffee shop. Quiet. Somewhere we don’t have to pretend we’re not keeping secrets from everyone.”

William spat his toothpaste into the sink. “You’re both dorks. But like, in a disgustingly endearing way.”

Mark just leaned his head back against the wall, still grinning, still stunned.

For a second, it was silent. Then, softly, he whispered, “She said yes.”

William peered around the corner, smirking. “Yeah, yeah, don’t pass out from the shock.”

Mark tossed a pillow at him which hit the door frame.

[wordsofwhimsy]

EᗰᑭIᖇE Oᖴ TᗯO

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

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

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

【ＷＡＲＮＩＮＧＳ】⦂ Violence, oppression

【ＩＮＳＰＩＲＡＴＩＯＮ】⦂ “My Piece” by Miguel

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

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ♡ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later that night...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[fandomnerd9602]

Absolutely

Elizabeth Luthor x Kryptonian!Reader

Request by @deafeningsharkslimeempath

Letting go of the past was never easy for you or for the woman you loved Elizabeth ‘Lizzie’ Luthor. You were Clark’s other cousin, a Kryptonian rocketed to Earth as a fierce warrior. The press dubbed you Absolute Superman. You were more focused on taking down the bad guys but Clark, Lois and Kara helped you to calm the anger and wrath within you.

Elizabeth Luthor never saw herself falling in love with a Kryptonian. And then she met you. She met your human persona when you went out for coffee one day. The two of you just seemed to click. The next day, she met your Superman persona when you saved the train she was on.

In truth, the Luthors always had an odd connection to the Kents. But love blossomed between you and her. You found the Lois to your Clark.

Your second cousins Jonathan and Jordan give you a hard time. A little ribbing every now and then but you love them. The three of you are able to train each other as Lizzie talks with Lois on the porch. Honestly being with you and the Kents helped Lizzie find the family unit that she was missing.

And then came trouble. You were playing a round of football with Clark and the boys. Lizzie was talking a little worriedly with Lois, normally you could easily tell what Lizzie was worried about but you wanted to respect her boundaries.

So trouble landed, that trouble known as the future in law, Lex Luthor. He landed outside the Kent farm as you and Elizabeth were having time with the rest of the family. Lex was clad in a green and purple armored suit. The visor came down revealing his face.

“After all this time,” he said thru gritted teeth. “All of you together on one location”

Lizzie didn’t even recognize her father at first. You stood in front of Lizzie and tried your best to guard her.

“Lex,” you stated, gesturing for Clark to stand down as well. “Please don’t do this. Not here. Not now.”

Lizzie was dumbstruck, “L-Lex? D-Dad?!”

“Elizabeth?” Lex was equally shocked. He tried to walk to her but she backtracked away from him. “What…why?”

“She’s my girlfriend,” you explained, your hands beginning to radiate solar energy only for Lizzie to put a hand on your bicep to calm you down.

“You framed me!!” Lex screamed at Clark who came up beside you “made my daughter cut me off”

“No I chose that, Father!” Lizzie shouted back. “It wasn’t your arrest that drove me away. It was finding out what kind of man you were”

Lex’s face just dropped as that realization hit him hard. It wasn’t Clark or Lois or you that drove Lizzie away from him, it was just him.

Tears began streaming down Elizabeth’s face as her voice became louder and clearer, “and I will not subject my baby to the likes of you!”

“What?!” Lex shouted.

“What?” You found yourself shocked for once in your life. Your Lizzie just took one of your hands and placed it over her flat stomach. You could feel an overwhelming sense of joy overtake you.

“I-I just found out three days ago” Lizzie admits with a little smile.

“Oh Liz” you found yourself whispering as you wrapped an arm around her and held her tenderly to your chest.

You turned to Clark and then to Lex, “please Lex, for the sake of your grandchild, just leave. Please.”

Lex looked one last time at Elizabeth. His heart shattered. It finally clicked in his head. It wasn’t the crime that he was framed for that shattered his relationship with his daughter, it was everything else.

The man was broken, to the core. So he powered up his suit and flew away.

You turned to Clark who clapped you on the back, “I’m amazed by you. You were the one who used to only care about stopping the bad guys.”

“Well what can I say?” You nuzzle your girlfriend, “this one helped me to change for the better”

Elizabeth Luthor kisses you softly as you all head inside to begin planning out the next few months of pregnancy and the rest of your life as parents.

[gatorbites-imagines]

So we all agree that Kryptonians can purr right? Humans just can't hear it but what about viltrumites? They also have heightened sense right, so theoretically they should be able to hear it.

Now imagine Kryptonian!reader with the petcvincibles, like come on, they'd crave that!!!!!

I like to think they can hear it, in a strange way. Like, viltrumites have better hearing than humans I think, and if they couldn't physically hear it, then they'd feel the vibrations somehow. Like, straight up feels the soundwave vibrations. Would also notice how they become so much more calm when Kryptonian reader is at peace, cuz the readers purring acts like cat purring.

If they could hear it no problem, then they'd want to make the reader purr more and more cuz, first, it's a sign that you are pleased (with life, with them, with the situation), and two, it's like nonverbal praise right? It's a confirmation that they're doing something right and you like them.

They all fight on who gets to lay on the readers chest when he's purring cuz they all wanna just smush their face into the readers pecs (or between them) and just zone out, completely turn their brains off and just enjoy the purring like a brain massage.

Readers purring would reach all of them if they're all in the same room, but laying on his chest is just the best seat, ya know?

I like to think reader purrs to comfort them too, when they get worked up or way too murderous, then holding the vincible and purring a lil bit gets him outta that headspace, somewhat.

On another note. I've been thinking about giving the vincibles belly rubs and chin scratches all day. Sighs dreamily.

[invincibledc]

“Lucky bastard”

(YJ version) Robin/Nightwing X Super!Reader

→Genre: Fluff

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

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

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

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

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

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

Years later….

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

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

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

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

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

He sure is a lucky bastard for life.

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"SMILE FOR THE CAMERA BABY"

TIM DRAKE X KRYPTONIAN!READER

*SNAP ZOOM CLICK*

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

[witherby]

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

Fantastic question! Conner has imprinted on Flittermouse!

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

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

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

[v-killallspiders]

HEIR TO THE STARS

Mark Grayson x Kryptonian!Reader

CHAPTER TWO: TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[hattersrabbit]

Hold up because yandere avengers x kryptonian! reader was so GOOD can we have a pt 2 please

(I'll actually go on knees for pt 2 but ofc if you don't want to make one that's up to you!)

BYE BYE, BABY BLUE

yandere avengers x kryptonian reader | sfw

CW! male reader, denial of reality, possessive behavior, blame of self, batman/Bruce wayne exists in this universe, jealous avengers, superbat (kinda, Bruce x Reader, more platonic tho),attempted murder

Summary! You've grown tired, and you've kept excusing that nothing is wrong with your team mates. It only gets worse when you meet someone who tells you what actually is going on

previous | next | series

˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ 𐙚 ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖

It been so long since you've had time to yourself. Asking Peter to go back to New York until something actually important happens you would call him.

Thankfully the younger man was a lot more convincable than the others. Wanda and Tony he thinks most importantly weren't that convincable.

Just for now; you were alone with Kyrpto who refused to move away from you.

You would never let him be away from you. You two may be aliens but you had feelings and the tension with your team mates was horrible.

Suffocating.

As if you were something helpless. Too naive but you noticed it all but didn't know why. Why was this happening to you.

At least until he walked into your life. A man with black hair and the most piercing of blue eyes. A man named Bruce Wayne with his son, Dick Grayson.

Whilst dealing with the avengers any time you got time alone you would talk to Bruce. The man had come to own your place of employment. Any time he visited which was rare but when he did you two would always talk a storm.

So close that he figured out your identity, and you figured out the fact he was Batman. A cryptid and the Robin by his side. To his word; you were the only one he told.

Best of friends and the finest. You had started getting traction in Gotham and helping Batman and Robin. A token meta in the world of Gotham.

Gotham wasn't known for safety, and word travels fast.

And one time it got bad.

Tony was fussing over you being in Gotham. He felt irratible about the fact you were conversing with this Batman. He was begging you to stay with him at the tower with Pepper.

Steve was yelling at him.

Bucky was standing too close to you. Him and Steve seeming to hold some connection of what to do.

With you.

You didn't like it, and while it hurt you to do so your pushed the men off of you. Without a word you flew off frantically. With your super hearing you could hear Tony getting his suit on, and the calling of Thor and Wanda.

It was futile to make you stop. You pleaded for them all to stop but they never did. All in the place of love, and making sure you were okay. You were new to this, but they were wrong.

Lex Luthor was dead. You came to know that when Tony Stark took control of his company. It was alarming, and suddenly kryptonite disappeared.

You didn't understand why this was happening. It wasn't hard to see how Wanda's murderous aura became big when you would ask about Lex Luthor.

Peter would seeth out a response.

You confronted them. Steve was quick to deny it. To deny the too close of touch that he and Bucky tried to force onto you. The overall fact that you were stuck in a invisible cage.

Clint and Natasha seemingly trying to hide the bloodlust they had when another assailant came to have Kyrptonite. In horror watching how they became something worse.

Thor's hammer, just as it did for Thanos, blood was shed. You were in horror as the hammer crushed the green crystal.

No you couldn't stand Banner's excessive mother henning. No Tony, you can't take my blood and make my suit even bulkier. You could stand it anymore.

Suffocating.

The breeze rushing past feeling dark. Thor and Wanda most definitely on your tail.

You tucked your fear all the way back into your stomach. Your mind flashed with images of Bruce's face. That kind man always knowing what to say despite his reputation of being a playboy.

You could feel tears falling down your face as you sped off to Gotham; Bruce's home of address.

"B! It's [ ]!" Dick would shout from seeing you land on the balcony. True to Gotham weather it was raining. Your own tears mixing in with the rain.

And then Bruce was there.

The balcony doors opened and you found your way into Bruce's arms, careful not to break his mortal body. "I know you said no metas but I just-" You cried to him.

The normally stoic Bruce that you came to know comforted you better than anyone of the avengers. Even the likes of Peter who was above all sweet, but it wasn't Bruce.

"What happened?" He would ask you while holding you. His butler, Alfred and Dick watching with worried eyes.

"The avengers...I don't know why but they've just gotten so...overbearing..."

You were naive, sure, but you you knew better. You were sheltered but you knew off behavior. The same kind of eyes staring from your town. The weird farm boy that people didn't know when he got there.

For good reason your new parents protected you from the world. Afraid that everyone in that damn town would hurt you despite your strength and powers.

You shivered remembering Tony's stare at you. The way his voice went up at the notion of you in Gotham, and working with the Batman.

Pictures of you and Bruce at your place of work.

It hadn't been long since you revealed your identity and that you were exactly human.

Thinking your naive nature and thinking you don't know that Bruce was a playboy, when he wasn't. Coming to know the man he did it to mask the pain of his tragedy.

Recently he stopped do so, but still kept up his flirty personality.

"Words and actions. Always angry that I'm alone without them, or with you or in Gotham. As if I'm not a fucking hero! As if I'm not an alien with strength above them!"

Your chest hurt as you relayed all the repressed feelings you felt in your chest. Krypto who had yet to leave your side rubbed up against you. You barely noticed the contact.

Bruce simply rubbed circles into your back. Alfred and Dick came back with cookies and tea for you all.

Your eyes always flickering to the windows. Scared to see Wanda's flickering red eyes and misty powers. Her ability to mess with your brain. Despite all of Bruce's help in strengthening your mind she would always penetrate it.

Sometimes you felt like things were missing from your memory. Or you seem to black out and suddenly in your room.

"You're something better than what they are. Better than me."

"Bruce-"

"They want to keep that pureness. Goodness is what they want, and they aren't good. The avengers have done things and have gone to the dark side. The scarlet witch is one big one."

You shivered at the mention of her name.

"Oh, [ ]. She's scaring you." Dick whispered. He brought a cookie to your lips slowly. You smiled seeing the boy try to cheer you up.

"Miss Maximoff is quite the danger isn't she? She's messed with your head?" Alfred inquired.

"Yes, I believe so." You gripped your hair. They were pulled off by Dick.

"No doubt a planned to keep you under wraps. Always one of them keeping an eye on you ever since kryptonite came to the public eye." Bruce responded. His sharp eyes on the window.

"Do you think you were followed?"

"Yes. They'll find me. I- I don't want them to find me!" You collapsed into yourself. Dick's small body hugging you tightly.

"Robin will protect you! Both Batman and Robin!" That boyish smile and hopeful expression. Once you had that outlook but since then it's broken down. You couldn't find a reason to smile when you were being smothered.

"Remember your stronger than them, and i can craft something to stop the mind control."

"Master Bruce."

"Yes, you can always leave and...joina group we've been trying to get together since the recent events with the avengers and you. I noticed it but I wished for you come to me, which you did." He brushed hair away from your tear stricken face.

"Maybe if I hadn't left then maybe Lex Luthor may not have..."

"I see." Bruce's voice deepened at the notion of death.

"It's not your fault, [ ]. You're something want to preserve. To believe that they are truly good. This new team; the Justice League would never treat you like that. I promise. People who love you would never do this." He held you to his body. Dick clinging hard to you.

Alfred had left to retrieve his shotgun.

"They don't care for your wants, [ ]. Otherwise, they'd understand you can take care of yourself. You're a hero not some child. They know you aren't, but anything bad to happen that would taint you it must be stopped."

"If I hadn't crashed-"

"If you hadn't crashed here then Metropolis would certainly be worse. You gave this world hope better than anyone!" Dick insisted. His hands cupping your face.

"Dick is right. What you've felt and seen is the truth. Don't let them continue." A rare smile crossed Bruce's face.

You noted how Dick visibly brightened at it.

"Quit them, and join our group; Diana would be overjoyed to have you with us again. Dick would be happy to see you more."

"Yeah! Those avengers of yours are really icky and scary." Dick giggled, and fake gagged after finishing his words.

Bruce chuckled. You're heart warming after digesting after all you've heard. The reality finally realized that what was happening wasn't good. They were smothering you like some baby when you were.

A human being that was bound to become hardened but that was the life of a hero.

"Okay. You promise to to not be like them." You pleaded.

"Of course, and if they find you right now me and Dick will defeat them. Alfred will be there with the shotgun too." He smiled bigger.

"For you!" Dick raised his hands. Sharp eyes on the window. Bruce's own eyes at the window with that Batman glare.

You heard her, but the loud gunshot stopped time. Unexpected, even for her.

This time you and Bruce couldn't find the care to stop the butler. Dick continued to hug you as Bruce stood up.

Already a message sent out for the rest of an upcoming league. The monster in the window down below with a shot to her stomach.

You felt at peace for now.

Even if you could hear all of their heartbeats.

Even the witch's heart was still beating.

[annlyticalarchive]

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

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

Mark Grayson X Kryptonian/Clark Kent! Reader

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

w/c: 5.6k

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

“Superwoman!”

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

But if you heard—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She blinked. “Okay… so, alien.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

That made you pause.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, “That’s a good answer.”

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

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

“Anytime, Miss Lane.”

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You froze mid-step and shot him a glare.

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

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

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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

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

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

He looked up just as you opened the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Outfielder.”

“That tracks,” he said with a smirk.

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah?”

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

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

Before you could answer, your phone started to ring.

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

Ma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your blood went cold.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You nodded.

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

𓈒 ⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then you saw it.

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

Nothing.

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

A sharp hiss split the silence.

And then

white.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

A very angry dog.

White fur. Bared teeth. Piercing blue eyes.

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

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

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

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

It bounced.

Literally bounced.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And just like that, it settled again.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Director Cecil Stedman.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t move.

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

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

He gestured broadly to the dog at your feet.

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

Mark’s expression darkened immediately.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mark let out a slow breath as he stepped closer.

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

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

Then you looked back at him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Ma hugged you.

But Mark?

He got a warning. A real, serious one.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sharp. Sudden. Wrong.

Both of you went silent mid-flight.

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

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

A cluster.

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

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

And then, barking.

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

You and Mark followed.

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

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

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

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

Until the dog trotted up to it.

It barked once.

Loud. Echoing.

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

You stared.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your breath caught.

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

“Is this..?”

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

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

Mark looked to you again.

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

You slotted it into the hollow.

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

light.

Brilliant and golden, flaring out in every direction.

And when it faded, a figure stood before you.

A man.

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

You held your breath.

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

You could only nod. “From my vision.”

The hologram opened its mouth and began to speak.

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

You stared, heart tightening.

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

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

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

From the pedestal, another crystal dislodged and rose.

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

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

But then, the letters shifted.

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

English.

It was a translation key.

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

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

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

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

You glanced at him, deadpan. “Apparently.”

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

Despite yourself, you smiled.

But it didn’t last long.

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

Not full sentences. Not yet.

But fragments.

“...my daughter…”

“...survival…”

“...Krypto... safe…”

You sucked in a breath.

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

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

But from something heavier.

A grief you felt like you had no business feeling.

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

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

The image stuttered once then blinked out entirely.

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

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

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

Mark didn’t argue.

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

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

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

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

They said yes without hesitation.

And still, Mark frowned.

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

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

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

You hesitated, voice softening into guilt.

“I’m sorry our date got ruined.”

Mark’s brow furrowed, confused.

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

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

“Hey.”

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

You finally looked up.

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

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

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

Despite yourself, a short laugh escaped your chest.

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

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

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

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

“You’re not mad?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emphasis on trying. He just held on tighter.

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

You snorted. “Mark.”

“Say it.”

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

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

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

He hummed, satisfied. “Very.”

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

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

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

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

He grinned. “Still sounds great.”

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