#superman fanfic

[nouearth]

blue current.

clark kent x male reader headcanons.

warnings: fluff, co-workers at the daily planet, maws!clark, soft!clark, intern!reader.

a/n: it's been a hot minute since i've written anything! i feel so bad because i've been swamped with school, so hopefully this will hold you guys over until i post my next fic! it's not much, but i've been feeling fluffy as of recent, and clark is the perfect candidate, HAHA. idk, i've been feeing low-key creatively stuck for writing, so hopefully this well get me out of the slump!

gif credits to: fukutomichi!

—clark was smitten from the moment he first laid eyes on you.

—it had only been the fourth month into his internship, but it was no secret that the higher-ups, and even his colleagues, have been impressed by clark's rapid growth.

—it was enough to ensure their trust in clark to train the new intern as the lead journalist had taken a month off for vacation. while he had his doubts if he would do a good job, clark always loved challenging himself.

—his mother had always reminded him: one who feared failure will never achieve greatness.

—sure, you weren't being mentored by the best journalist in the city. though, you had to admit that you felt defeated since miss lane was the only reason why you chose the daily planet over other internships.

—but bitterness turned to throat-drying, cheek-flushing, and hand-flexing sweetness when you came in your first day and met the man who would be training you.

—for clark, it was the drowsiness in your gaze that suddenly brightened when he met your eyes. if he could have seen his own face, clark would reckon that his eyes lit up the same way yours did upon meeting you for the first time.

—he's so... handsome. maybe training him wouldn't be so bad after all...

—his blue eyes sucked you in like heavy ocean current, but instead of fighting back the pull like any sane person would, you allowed him to drown you in the gorgeous wash his gaze doted on you with.

—god, are you toying with me right now? have you finally come around to my reckless behavior back in high school? i knew you always would!

—it began with a handshake. when clark's large hand cupped into yours, a current of sparks flickered from the bone of your knuckles to his own, and you both released with a gasp.

—"sorry! it must be my vest or something—has a lot of... cotton, i think—" clark assured with a laugh, but cursed his lame excuse in between breaths.

—"no, you're fine! i guess your sweater vest knew i was half-asleep, huh?" you laughed with him, and almost as if it was choreographed, you reached back to rub at your nape when he does, and the discomfort left the collective laughter in a fleeting dance.

—"well, lucky for you, our first stop is the break room! i'll show you how to make a poor man's mocha if you get sick of the coffee here!"

—from then on, you two had quickly become close friends.

—where clark would teach you more hacks to spice up an ordinary roast of coffee, you would return the favor by surprising him on random days with lunch that you prepared the night before.

—on nights where you were too tired to function, you simply settled for sandwiches and prepared an extra meal for clark.

—whether he claimed he forgot his lunch, or was too busy to even take a glance at his lunchbox; eating lunch had become a rarity for him.

—unless it was with you.

—even before opening the brown paper bag, clark knew it was going to be delicious.

—you always remembered what ingredients he liked and disliked since the first time you had lunch with him.

—clark smiled to himself as he ate the meal you didn't have to prepare for him in big bites.

—and then laughed when you watched in amazement and mirrored him like a parrot with messy bites.

—somehow, the thought of cared for was more filling than the actual meal.

—in moments where clark suddenly felt guilt for liking you as more than a friend, he sat silently, staring blankly ahead, with the tissue crumpled in his hands.

—and you sat beside him on the bench, compelled by his silence, while the birds watched from their home of oak and birch.

—it had been happening more frequently: clark's sudden mood shift. no matter how much he tried to deny it, how much he attempted to pacify your silent worries with his handsome smile, it was clear that something was bothering him.

—at first, you tried to break him with a joke.

—"geez, was my sandwich that bad?! i guess i shouldn't have used that expired mustard..."

—you've studied clark enough to anticipate a half-hearted chuckle from him; weak, but still had the intention to please. to masquerade his thoughts.

—instead, the birds chirped in his absence, and your frown only deepened as clark maintained a fixed gaze to the pavement.

—"clark?" you nudged him once on the arm, and he immediately dropped his head in between his legs with a heavy sigh.

—"what's wrong?"

—"there'ssomethingigottatellyou..." he muttered into the crook of his elbow, and your brows knitted together in worry, despite your amusement at the fact that he was behaving similarly to a puppy throwing a tantrum.

—"huh? didn't quite catch that when your mouth is full of linen." you gently nudged him once more to vacant the space between his legs, then another with a gentler squeeze to his arm when he doesn't.

—"clark, come on. talk to me." you squeezed harder to the sound of his groans. "people are staring—"

—then another squeeze.

—"there's something..."

—and another.

—"i gotta tell you..."

—and before you could alert him once more, clark returned the pressure into your own palm when he suddenly took your hand into his, and held it as if it was a pirate's lost treasure.

—the warmth of your skin compelled him to sit back up, but he refused to look at you. instead, he gazed every perimeter that didn't involve your eyes.

—the birds again, the sky, the trees, anything to drown out the sight of potential rejection.

—but how you wished he would turn to you right now, because you smiled. wide enough to sting the apple of your cheeks, and as much as you wanted to yell out his name for him to do so, you wanted to let clark do it for himself.

—to take upon the challenge of potentially meeting failure or success.

—heat crept onto his cheeks as he stared at a couple who were charmed by chubby ducks floating on the nearby lake. for a brief moment, he could see you two walking hand-in-hand, while the other free hand threw feed at the eager ducks.

—he was lost in his imagination. a blink turned into a dream, and a dream turned into a desperate paradise.

—it wasn't until the trail of your hand that looped your fingers into his, tightly sharing the warmth of anxiousness with a sticky clamp, that clark opened his eyes again and finally turned to you.

—wet eyes and shaking blues, they told a story that you didn't need to read into.

—silence filled the space between the two of you, then groaned in annoyance when you scooted closer until your knee was pressed to clark's. you folded his hand into yours, still clutching onto him tightly, and laid the joined affection on your lap.

—"i like you too, smallville." your thumb ran several laps over his knuckles to calm the tremors clark had possessed.

—he watched, open-mouthed as if he was about to respond, but the shock trapped the remainder of his words within his throat.

—you lounged back and squinted at the radiance of the sun, the brights of the sky.

—"(m/n)..."

—the sunlight faded into the background as the beauty of your best friend came into frame once again. he absorbed all the color and light of the world until your focus was on him.

—"i really like you."

—the sigh on his lips told a different tale compared to the previous exhales. it curled his lips upwards and finally pacified the shakes that had been bothering clark for months.

—when he pressed his palm back into yours, folding his fingers over your own, you braced for impact as you felt the electrical current from the first day you met him return in stronger pulses. it nipped at your skin, then at clark's, in its desperate escape.

—but clark held tighter, as did you, until the shockwaves melted in his skin, into his veins, then into his blood, and became one with the victorious cheer of his heart.

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like! feedback is also much appreciated!

[sorryiwasasleep]

Screwed Up: A SuperBat One-Shot

“Look, Kent, the only way you’re getting out of writing this article is if you’re screwing one of them, so unless you tell me you and the Amazoni—“ Clark can’t help the honest-to-god snort of a laugh that pulls from him.

God, Diana will get a kick out of that too when he tells her.

Still laughing, Clark doesn’t even think about it.

He just answers, “I mean, I’d say B’s screwing me.”

And then he freezes as he realizes what he actually said.

And so does the rest of the newsroom.

And it’s like he can see the air swell in front of his eyes as his face flushes red and the group takes what feels like a collective inhale before nearly everyone in the newsroom starts talking at once.

In a move that probably makes him look even guiltier, Clark instinctually claps a hand over his mouth as if to take back the words.

Oh no.

[your-averagewriter]

"You saved me."

Summary: (y/n) and Clark have an argument but briefly after, something terrifying happens nearly snatching away (y/n)'s life but Clark is there to save her.

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: kissing, danger, death, crying, arguments

-

“Batman saves the day again,” I whisper to myself as I look at the front page title for my article. With a smile, I stand up, gripping the tablet to show my boss. I knock on the door and walk in once I’m summoned. 

“I’m done.” I pass the tablet over to Mr White. “What do you think?” I ask and watch his eyes scan over the title and the article.

He sighs before lifting his glasses onto his head and my face drops slightly. “You can publish it.” He says reluctantly, he doesn’t tend to like pieces that are so opinionated but he often makes exceptions for me. I take the tablet off of him and head out of the door. “Maybe tone it down next time though.” I nod even though we both know that I won’t.

I get the article published in the following day’s Daily Planet paper. 

The next day I see my article on the front page accompanied by a heroic picture of Batman, I smile, content with my work and head home. 

I push open the door to my shared apartment and kick off my shoes and hang up my coat. I check the time and decide to start cooking some dinner as Clark should be home in an hour or two. 

“Honey, I’m home.” I hear Clark yell from the door in a tired tone.

“I’m in the kitchen!” I yell back and hear his heavy footsteps echo through the house. I keep stirring the food and I feel his large hands on my shoulder.

“Hey,” I say quietly as he places a soft kiss on my cheek. 

“Hi, how was your day?” He asks wrapping his arms around me.

“Good, my article got on the front page,” I say happily.

“Wow, what was the article about?” He says resting his chest against my back.

“The title was: Batman saves the day again!” I say turning around dramatically with a smile but I watch his smile falter.

“Batman saves the day again…” He mutters quietly and I nod. “(y/n) you know how I feel about him.” He says.

“Are you not proud of me? I got the front page.” I say slightly sad that he isn’t as happy as me.

“That’s great but do you have to write about him all the time?” He asks tiredly.

“I don’t write about him all the time!” I say getting annoyed. “And you can’t control what I write!” I say, brows furrowed.

“I don’t want to dictate your writing but I don’t like when you write about him and you know that!” He says withdrawing from me.

“I don’t understand why you care so much whether I write about him! You should be happy for me!” I say louder but not shouting. 

This turns into a full-blown argument, shouting and all and it lasts for seemingly hours although I know it can’t have been more than half an hour before I stormed off. Dinner is abandoned and Clark sleeps on the couch.

Hot tears burn my eyes as I keep flipping over my pillow and turning around, Clark not being next to me is making it hard to sleep. Eventually, morning arrives and I leave early before Clark even wakes up. Even though it’s early I head to work, only a few people get to the building this early, mainly just cleaners. Clark works in the same building but on a different floor, the one just above my floor, the one just below the roof.

I spend the day not doing much and trying to avoid my coworkers. Walking around the office, all that’s displayed is the current Daily Planet paper, the issue with my front page article. It usually fills me with pride to see my articles on the front page at the office but today it just fills me with anger. Every time I walk past one of the newspaper stands I’m reminded of our argument last night. 

I sit back down at my desk, my hands threading in my hair, frustrated. Squeezing my eyes shut I blink back small tears as I stare at the screen in front of me. 

As I look at the endless lines of text, I feel vibrations ripple through the building. They’re relatively small but definitely there so I stand up and look around at my other confused co-workers.

I push my chair out of the way and walk towards the windows where everyone’s standing. After a few seconds of shock, everyone starts screaming and running out of the building. I stand still staring at the destruction of our city and almost everybody else is leaving the building. Mr White grabs my arm and pulls me out the door with him and down the stairs.

“We’ve got to go!” He yells pulling me down the stairs and I go with him.

“Wait!” I yell and stop. “Clark’s up there!” I yell and pry my arm from his hand, darting up the stairs.

“(y/n)! Stop!” He yells but I keep running up the stairs.

I make it up to the next floor and people just keep pushing past me. “Clark!” I yell, worried. “Clark!” I turn to one of the people running out. “Have you seen Clark?” I ask rushed and my answer is a shake of the head.

I ask the people who rush out the door but no one’s seen him. Pushing through the last few people I run through the floor looking for him, calling his name.

“Clark? Clark?” I yell, running down the corridors, and poking my head into each of the offices.

Seeing he’s not on this floor I head up to the next one but it’s the roof. I feel the wind through my hair as I push open the door.

“Clark!” I yell out from the top of the building. Walking away from the door it slams behind me and locks. I grab onto the handle and pull and pull but it doesn’t budge so I turn away from it and take a deep breath.

“Clark!” I cup my hands around my mouth and shout out across the building with no response. “Clark? Are you up here?” I say looking around, the vibrations getting stronger and harsher. I try to walk further but I’m thrown to the ground as an especially strong vibration ripples underfoot.

I flip my hair out of my face, tucking some of it behind my ear to stop it from blowing in my face as I look around. The buildings in front of us have been absolutely obliterated and the debris is littering the streets. I crawl back towards the door and try the door again, it’s still locked but I try to pry it open, desperately. Worry builds up inside of me as the door doesn’t budge at all and the destruction is closing in.

I turn around to look at the tornado-like carnage nearing and back up against the wall. Wiping tears from my eyes I stare my death in the eyes terrified.

If I die today I’ll never get to see Clark ever again, I’ll never get to apologise and my last memory of him will be the argument. His last memory of me before I died will be our argument. The thoughts bring me to tears and I throw my head back against the door, the danger getting closer and closer.

Finally, just as I’m about to be swallowed up by the darkness I’m lifted into the air. Choking on my tears I feel a pair of arms around my waist and I hear a quiet voice in my ear.

“You’re okay. You’re okay.” I hear the voice says as I cling on for dear life. 

“Clark?” I whisper quietly, looking up at him. “Oh my god,” I say with a sigh of relief.

He flies us away from the wreckage and my tears start to dry up as I’m away from the danger. Clark lands on the ground and he places me down in front of him seconds afterwards. 

I press myself against his torso, pulling him closer to me desperately. He does the same, wrapping his arms around me as I rest my head on his chest.

“You saved my life. Thank you.” I say quietly.

“You don’t need to thank me…” He says quietly.

“I’m so sorry,” I say feeling the tears in my eyes again.

“For what?” He asks softly knowing that I’m still shaken up.

“I’m sorry for writing that article. I know you don’t like him and I shouldn’t have-” He cuts me off.

“No, I’m sorry, you should be able to write what you like.” He says and I lift my head from his chest.

He places his finger under my chin and lifts my head closer to his. Leaning in, he presses his lips against mine, his thumb caressing my cheek, wiping away the remnants of my tears. I kiss him passionately, pouring all of my emotions into it. Tangling my hand into his gelled hair, I tease the curls out as he pulls me closer, his arm around my neck. I open my eyes and pull away slowly, placing my forehead against his.

“I love you,” I say softly looking into his blue eyes, only adoration and love painted on my face.

“I love you too. I’m so glad you’re okay.” He says sincerely and I trace the ‘S’ on his outfit.

“Thanks to you,” I say before smashing my lips against his again, this time more ferociously and he matches the emotion and passion. I stroke my hand against his clean-shaven face and I reach around playing with the tame curls. He bites at my lip as I open my mouth allowing him entrance. He rubs his hand up and down my back, drawing different shapes, it’s a soothing feeling. Looking to the side I notice Mr White and some others from the office who have escaped the terror in the city so I pull away, embarrassed at the very public display of affection.

He chases my lips again but I bow my head away and chuckle.

“Clark,” I say quietly indicating to the on-lookers with my eyes. He follows my eyes and then turns back to me.

“I don’t care.” He says before recapturing my lips. The warmth blossoms on my lips and the feeling of his lips on mine is the best feeling I can think of.

-

AN: I hope you enjoyed!

I just rewatched Superman and I'm just in love with Clark all over again.

[reikuns-realities]

It's Not Easy

A Smallville love story - Clark Kent x OC

Chapter 2 - Metamorphosis

Clark had practically begged Rose to let him walk her home that night. The thought of anything happening to her… The way they had just held each other so intimately, contrasted with the distance they kept between them as they walked. Both of them tried extra hard to keep their hands to themselves. Rose used hers to shield herself from the cold, wrapping her arms around her body, while Clark opted to keep his tucked in the pockets of his jeans. Once they had reached the porch, Rose climbed a few steps while Clark remained at ground level. Clark grinned at her. This was one of the few times Rose was at his eye level. He thought about making a remark about her height, but ultimately decided it was poor timing. 

“Thanks for the dance,” Clark stated. Rose shook her head in response.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Clark.”

“Sleep well, Rosalie.” Clark sent a soft smile her way.

Rose leaned over and kissed his cheek softly. This gesture was not common between the two. Clark’s heart skipped as her lips touched the skin of his cheek. Rose then stepped into her home, shutting the door softly.

Clark stared for what felt like minutes. Rose. Ever since that night she checked up on him, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. This girl. She was slowly conquering his waking thoughts. Lana was sweet and gentle, but Rose, she was something else entirely. Since then, he had noticed so many things that made Rose special. Things he hadn’t noticed before. The way her lips parted ever so slightly when she was focused. The way her eyes lit up when Chloe talked about her latest theories. Her giggle after telling one of her corny jokes. The way she would maintain eye contact with him during conversations, even when she had to strain her neck doing so. And she was like him. She had to hide her abilities just like he did. His mind began to wander as he thought about the vines that sprouted from Rose’s arm. He wondered if she would ever trust him enough to tell him herself. He hoped that one day she cou- His eyes darted to a tree on the far end of the Potter property. He could’ve sworn he heard rustling but it was silent. He squinted, trying to get a good look at the branches. He shook his head. Must’ve been the wind.

Rose tiptoed through her dark, quiet house. It seemed as though everyone had turned in for the night. She passed Lana’s room on her way to her own. She barely heard her soft snores as she walked by. Rose hadn’t realized just how long she had stayed at Clark’s. She turned to her room, and furrowed her eyebrows. Did Lana steal something from her room and forget to turn off the light? What a waste of energy. She opened the door and looked around the room. Maybe she could spot what it was she was missing. 

Her eyes fell on a small box on top of her bed. She looked around again, suddenly feeling a gaze on her. She stepped forward, setting a hand on the lid and lifting it. As if it couldn’t get any more bizarre, about 8 butterflies flew from the box. They danced around her room as Rose admired them. 

She stepped back a bit, watching them. She wondered how they could’ve gotten in her room. She also wondered what kind of sicko would box butterflies and leave them in a girl’s bedroom. She rushed to her window, opening it to let them out. She then gazed out of it, scanning her yard for any unusual objects, possibly a camera. Having failed at finding anything out of the ordinary, Rose closed her window and sighed. She shut her curtains. She would handle it in the morning. For now, all she wanted to do was let her mind wander to Clark.

The farmer’s market was always something Rose enjoyed. She begged Nell for weeks before to rent a stall. Rose did love being a flower girl. But to no avail. Nell felt it was too difficult to haul her flowers over when she had a perfectly nice shop downtown. Luckily, Martha Kent had asked their little group to help set up the Kent Farm’s stall that morning. So Rose got dressed in her favorite pair of working overalls, slipping her hair into a sensible ponytail. She was going to be a farmgirl today. 

Chloe picked up Rose and Pete in her gorgeous car. The Kents would’ve been thrilled to let Rose tag along with them, but they only had one pickup that barely sat three and Chloe didn’t mind the extra miles.

“So how was the dance, you two?” Rose wiggled her eyebrows, moving to the edge of her seat to clamp Pete’s shoulders. “Did you guys make out?”

“Of course not,” Chloe rolled her eyes, her classic smile on her face. “Petey and I just went as friends, you know that.”

“Yeah, friends,” Pete laughed softly, his cheeks a tiny bit rosy.

“And what happened to Clark last night, do you know?” Chloe asked, glancing at her through the rear view mirror. “Thought you were his date or something.”

“Let’s not talk about last night,” Rose laughed.

“He stood you up?” Chloe scowled. “I swear, if he did, he’ll be your height by the time I’m done with him.”

“He had a good reason, don’t blame him or anything,” Rose shook her head. “Plus he made up for it after.”

“I know what that means,” Pete smirked, turning in his seat to shoot Rose a knowing look.

“Not like that!” Rose laughed, pushing his face away from her.

“That just means I need to teach my buddy some moves,” said Pete, winking at Rose.

“In your dreams, Ross.”

The Kent Farm stall was quite large. Rose tightened her ponytail and rolled up her sleeves. She spotted the Kent truck, jogging over to it. 

“Good morning, Mrs. Kent!” Rose smiled, giving her a hug. 

“Good morning, Rosalie,” Martha gave her a firm squeeze. “Thanks for agreeing to help out. We just need to unload the truck.”

“You can count on us, Mrs. K,” Pete snapped, lifting a crate of carrots.

Rose lifted a large crate of apples, adjusting it in her arms as she walked. 

“Rose!” Clark jogged up to her. A light pink dusting his cheeks. “Here, let me get that for you.”

Clark swiftly swiped the crate from her hands before she could refuse, carrying it with ease.

“Clarkson, your mom asked me to take that,” Rose shook her head. “I’m supposed to be helping, remember?”

“You are helping, you’re my emotional support,” he bent down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. 

“I- Well- No-“ Rose stammered, blinking excessively, trying to process the gesture in her mind. 

“You’re cute when you’re flustered, Rosalie,” Clark chuckled, shifting the crate to one hand, lightly pushing her in front of him with the other.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Being cocky…” Rose muttered, folding her arms across her chest. She halted her movements and turned on her heel to face Clark.

“Do you really want me to?” Clark leaned in, halting about a foot away from her face. “‘Cause it seems like you like it.”

Rose’s face flushed beet red, she covered it with her hands in an attempt to hide. Clark laughed again, ruffling her hair before pushing forward to the stall. Rose shook her head as she watched Clark. Why did he make her like this? She sighed, scanning the farmer’s market. A beautiful wind chime hanging from a glass art stall caught her attention. She approached it, tapping lightly on the multicolored butterflies that hung from it. She admired how delicate they looked. They were gorgeous. Reminiscent of actual butterflies.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A voice chimed from directly behind her.

 Rose turned to see Greg Arkin. He was in a couple of her classes, but, like most kids in this town, he had practically grown up with Rose. Greg was known to be very reclusive. He was a very outgoing child, even used to be friends with Clark and Pete. However, as a teen he had been really closed off. He seldom left his house if he didn’t need to. He usually sported some thick glasses, long, greasy hair and his skin was going through a terrible breakout. At least it had been, the last time Rose had seen him. Which was only a couple days ago, Rose had thought. But now he looked different. Almost unrecognizable. He had a haircut, his face was clear. Maybe he had invested in contacts this time ‘round. He sported a leather jacket. Rose noticed that whenever a teenage boy wanted to seem cool, he’d sport a leather jacket and slick his hair back with lots of gel. 

“Greg! Wow, you look great!” Rose grinned, tilting her head a bit. “I could barely recognize you without the glasses. That’s normal, though. Glasses sort of frame the face in a way that distorts it somehow.”

“Did you know the average butterfly only lives for eight hours?” Greg reached to tap a butterfly that was right next to Rose’s head.

”No time for idle chitchat,” Rose smirked, eying him. “Their goal is to mate. Hell of a prerogative.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Greg matched her smirk, raising an eyebrow slightly. “Rose, I was wondering if you’d help me with my Lit paper?”

“Nathanael West assignment fucking you over?” Rose gave a little smile.

“Yeah, it’s kicking my ass.” He shared her grin.

This guy’s kinda cute, Rose thought, admiring his smile. “Sure, I’ll help ya, bud.”

“Great, how ‘bout my house, after school?” 

“I’d love to, but I’ve got a couple things I gotta do for the Torch,” Rose winced. “Library might be better for me.”

“It’s a date.”

“Hey, Rose,” Lana walked up to the flirting couple. “Nell’s lookin for ya. You didn’t talk to her about homecoming?”

“Fuck- I’ll catch ya later, Greggo.” She waved, before sprinting off.

Clark found himself staring at Rose yet again that morning. She broke through his walls and ran with his heart without even trying. He wondered why he ever wasted time longing for Lana. He marveled at how fast he was falling for his best friend. How could he have dismissed her so easily? It was as if he was finally seeing her for the first time. He wondered if she was feeling it too. Clark wasn’t oblivious, he knew the effect he had on Rose. He knew she loved him. But was he worthy of that? He wanted it. He wanted her. But could he keep her safe if he pursued her? Could he guarantee her a life she deserved?

He watched as Rose dipped under the butterfly wind chime, and behind a stall, presumably hiding from her mother. She had not noticed her not-so-secret admirer.

“She has a sort of glow to her today, doesn’t she?” Clark turned at the sound of the voice. There stood Nell Potter, watching her daughter as she hid from her.

“Believe me, Ms. Potter,” Clark started, his gaze returning to the oblivious Rose. “Your daughter has always had that glow.”

“I see you‘ve taken a liking to our little flower, Clark,” Nell grinned. “So history does repeat itself. How cheeky of the universe.”

“I’m having trouble following…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it, dear,” Nell sighed. “Just an old woman recounting her past.”

Rose had managed to avoid her mother by going back to the Kent Farm stall. Avoiding her mother was easy when she was with the Kents. Nell didn’t like being around them. Something about events that transpired before Martha and Jonathan got together. Rose never bothered to pay much attention to the details, though she did want to hear the hot parent gossip. 

Rose spotted Clark taking a crate of apples back to the truck. She ran over and swiftly plucked it from his hands.

“Here, let me get that for you,” She echoed his words from before, grinning wide.

“You’re something else, Potter.” Clark smiled at her actions, admiring her little victory.

”You sound like that blonde kid in Harry Potter,” Rose replied, walking over to the Kent Family Truck, a little bit of a bounce in her step. 

“You have to stop saying that every time I refer to you by your last name,” Clark followed.

“I’ll never stop,” Rose smirked. “As long as it’s still my last name, that is.”

“Can’t knock your taste in women,” Rose turned her head at the sound of a calm voice. Her smile faded as she saw Lex Luthor. He plucked a bright red apple from Rose’s crate.

“Hey, rich bitch, you have to pay for that,” Rose spat.

“You wanna tell me what happened last night?” Lex asked Clark, ignoring Rose. 

“It was just a stupid prank,” Clark replied, taking the crate of apples from Rose and placing it in the truck. He then nudged Rose to shift to the other side of him, putting himself in between the pair.

“You were tied to stake in the middle of a field,” Lex stated. “Even the Romans saved that for special occasions. You could’ve died out there.”

“I appreciate your help, I just want to forget it ever happened.”

“Hey, Clark, Rose,” Jonathan walked over with more produce. “What is the holdup, kids?”

“Mr. Kent!” Lex extended a hand. “It’s good to see ya.”

“Lex.” Jonathan gave him a firm shake before looking at Clark. “Come on, we gotta finish up.”

“Okay, Dad,” Clark replied. Rose followed Jonathan.

“At least I got a handshake this time.”

“You were quiet back there,” Clark stated after catching up to her.

“I don’t really trust him,” Rose sighed. “He was there at Riley Fields last night.”

“He’s the one who untied me.” 

“He did?” Rose looked back briefly at Lex. She smiled at Clark. “I owe him, then.”

“Oh? And why’s that?” He matched her smile.

“What would I do without the constant presence of my giant friend?” Rose asked, reaching her hand up to pat his cheek a couple times before skipping forward. 

Clark grinned, watching her as she plucked another crate and spun on her feet, towards the truck. She winked at him as she passed him again. 

“Get a move on, son.” Jonathan clapped Clark’s back as he passed by, breaking him from his daze. Clark coughed an apology before getting back to work.

The busy lobby of the popular ‘Fordman Family Diner’ aided Rose’s thoughts as she typed away on her rather bulky laptop. 

“So the regular?” A dirty blonde with piercing blue eyes smiled at Rose. “For the both of you?”

”Yes-ya-yeah,” Rose’s writing partner stammered out. 

Dante Ripley. He was a sophomore in Smallville High. There were very few members of the Smallville Torch. Four. Really three. Clark was an official member of the paper, but typing out the lunch menu and the school calendar was hardly hard hitting journalism. Now Dante. Dante was an author, aspiring, of course. He dabbled in creative writing and he was good at it. His short stories and poems were featured on the last page of the Torch every week. Like clockwork, every Tuesday afternoon, the members of the school newspaper would share a couple of baskets of fries and finish up that week’s paper.

“And will the chatty one be joining us today?” The waitress asked.

“Yeah, she’s running a bit late,” Rose replied, a soft smile appeared. “How’s your brother by the way?”

“Oh, Whitney’s fine, he wasn’t too hurt from the accident. Just a couple scratches,” Valerie Fordman nodded before tapping on her notepad. “I better put these in.”

Dante’s eyes fixed on the waitress as she walked away. Rose slapped the back of his head.

“Ow!” Dante exclaimed, rubbing the area to ease the pain.

“Eyes front, soldier.” 

“Rose-“ Chloe marched up to their usual booth. “Hey, didn’t you have that study date with Greg Arkin?”

“Fuck. Yeah, I did,” Rose replied as Chloe slid into the booth with Dante. “I told him I had to do some last minute Torch writing, and he asked me if I was blowing him off for Clark.”

“Like Clark even comes to these,” Chloe laughed.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t blow anyone off for Clark?” Dante questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Touché,” Rose nodded in defeat.

“Well, you better go check on him,” Chloe suggested. “I mean, Greg seemed pretty heated about your behavior.”

“What’s he gonna do to Clark?” Rose tilted her head at Chloe, puzzled. “Plus, I need to finish this article about the football Coach tonight.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Chloe replied, earning a disapproving groan from Dante.

“Why are you encouraging her to slack off?”

“She isn’t a good writer anyway, and she’s a slow typer,” Chloe retorted. “Better her than us.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Rose rolled her eyes.

“Stick to pictures, sweetheart,” Dante replied, laughing.

“Fuck you guys,” Rose laughed, packing her things.

“I had a feeling you were gonna leave early to see Clark,” Valerie walked up once again to the booth. She held a carry-out bag and a couple milkshakes out to Rose. “So I had these prepared.”

“Damn, you really know your regulars,” Rose chuckled, taking them from her. She then motioned for Chloe to reach into her back pocket to take out her wallet. “How much do I owe ya?”

“$24.56”

Chloe pulled out $30 from Rose’s wallet, slipping it back into her pocket. 

“Thanks, Val,” Rose winked, stumbling with the food. “Keep that change.”

After a rather lengthy visit to the Luthor Mansion, Clark found himself with a small, lead chest. Inside contained Lana’s most prized possession. The small necklace contained a green crystal-like stone. Clark had noticed that when he was exposed to it, his abilities would be halted. He would suddenly and unexpectedly feel very weak. His body would stiffen and he would feel this unmatched, excruciating pain. Sometimes he would feel it in his stomach, other times he would feel it in his joints.

He gently opened the chest, staring at the necklace. This was so special to Lana. He knew that. She would always have it on. He couldn’t even remember a day before this one that she wasn’t wearing it. He wondered if this small necklace was the reason he couldn’t bring himself to make a move on her, both physically and metaphorically. He moved his hand closer to the chest, in an attempt to hold the necklace. The sharp pain washed over his hand. He could feel the effects running through his veins. He abruptly shut the chest. The pain ceased and his hand regained its motion. 

Clark stopped midway up his stairs to his loft. Was that Lana Lang? Clark slid the chest onto the floor of his loft, quietly draping a blanket over it. It was an effortless attempt at hiding it, but it got the job done.

“Lana…” Clark climbed the rest of the way up as Lana turned around.

“Your mom said I could wait up here. I hope you don’t mind,” Lana gestured to her surrounding area. “This is an amazing place.”

“My dad built it,” Clark smiled softly. “He calls it my ‘Fortress of Solitude.’” Lana chuckled.

“I didn’t know you’re into astronomy,” Lana pointed to the telescope.

“That’s a hobby,” Clark downplayed his interest. “I got that from my parents, but I’m pretty sure I saw Rose eying that catalog months before.”

“Did you know you could see my house from here?” Lana asked, looking into the telescope.

“No, really?” Clark lied, moving the telescope away from her house. “You know, we’ve lived a mile apart our whole lives and you’ve never come over.”

“And you’re wondering what I’m doing here now,” Lana nodded.

“Not that I don’t enjoy the company. But… yes, I was.”

“I found out what Whitney did to you,” Lana walked a few paces away. “The whole scarecrow thing.”

“Rose didn’t tell you?”

“Rose knew?”

“She did, she came to check on me that night.” 

Lana stood for a second in disbelief before shaking her head.

“I came to apologize.”

“It’s not your fault. Forget about it.”

“I can’t,” Lana’s gaze softened. “He had no right to do that to you, and you turn around and save his life.”

“I appreciate you coming over here,” Clark turned to look at her once more. “But you’re not the one who should be apologizing.”

“I didn’t come here to defend him,” Lana took a step closer to him, meeting his gaze. “I came here to see you.”

“Who told you?”

“Lex Luthor.” Lana replied. Clark sighed and pressed his lips together. “Dropped some bread crumbs and I followed the trail.”

Clark shook his head, avoiding her gaze.

“I’m glad he did, Clark,” Lana said softly. “He was just being a good friend. You’re lucky, it’s rare.”

“Ah, Lex is definitely one of a kind,” Clark nodded. “So what are you gonna do?”

“I’m not sure,” Lana looked away and out the window. “I thought I knew Whitney. Now I wonder what else I’ve been blind to in my life. He even lost my favorite necklace.”

“Can’t you get it replaced?”

“It sounds kind of weird but it’s made from a fragment of the meteor that killed my parents. Nell had it made. Gave it to me the day she officially adopted me,” Lana smiled. “Told me that. Life is about change. Sometimes it’s painful, sometimes it’s beautiful. But most of the time, it’s both.”

Rose’s blood boiled. She never got this possessive over anyone. She wasn’t the jealous type. Clark just brought that out of her. She knew she had no claim over Clark. She knew they were their own people and Lana and Clark had free will. But, god, did she wish they chose some other way to exercise that right. Rose watched as Lana and Clark chatted away about god knows what. Rose couldn’t hear a word they were saying, just muffled sounds. But she saw everything. And she hated it. 

“I better go,” She finally heard clearly. “I’m glad you’re okay, Clark.”

“Fuck,” Rose muttered as she heard footsteps. She set down the food and milkshakes and dove into the nearest stack of hay. 

Lana stopped for a second and looked around. Rose cursed at herself for not being more stealthy. Rose let out a sigh of relief as she heard Lana’s footsteps leaving the barn. She climbed out of the hay, dusting herself off.

“You having fun down there?” Rose looked up to see Clark smirking down at her from the railing of his loft. “If you’re looking for something to eat, I hate to break it to you. But hay is for horses.”

“For your information, barnyard boy,” Rose huffed as she picked up the food and walked up the stairs. “I’ve happened to bring sustenance. For humans.”

“Oh, and I’m glad you did,” Clark smiled once she had made her way to him. He grabbed the food from her and set it on his table. “I’m starving.”

“When are you not? You’re like a black hole in there,” Rose poked Clark’s stomach. She was shocked that it didn’t give one single centimeter. Rock hard would be an understatement. She cleared her throat, pulling her hand away. She had never seen him hit the gym or do any core training. He was that strong from farm work alone? 

Rose sat on her heels by the couch, unpacking the fries and placing straws in both milkshakes. She happily handed Clark the vanilla one. Clark took a seat behind her, on the couch. He gently picked out hay from her hair. 

“Did you come to stargaze?” Clark questioned, a content smile decorated his face. 

“Actually, I came to check on you,” Rose took out her bulky laptop and began typing away just as she did back in the diner. “I saw remnants of what was Whitney’s van. It seems I wasn’t the only one…”

“Lana,” Clark nodded, picking the last piece of hay from her hair. “I didn’t invite her, you know.”

“You didn’t invite me either, Clark,” Rose laughed, tapping his hand. “And you don’t need to defend yourself, I’m not accusing you of anything. I wouldn’t have anything to accuse anyway.”

“I meant, you’re always welcome,” Clark sank to the floor, settling down by her side. He reached over her for some fries. 

“That’s awfully sweet, Clark,” Rose chuckled lightly, not taking her eyes off her laptop. She lifted the milkshake to her mouth and sipped. “But you understand how that gesture isn’t exactly a special one.”

“You don’t understand,” Clark reached over and moved her face towards him. Meeting her gaze. “I meant I always want to see you.”

“Oh,” Rose felt her cheeks begin to heat up as she shifted her gaze from eye to eye. She swallowed before coughing and brushing away his hand. “Ditto.”

Clark smiled, chuckling as she shifted her gaze back to her laptop. Clark effortlessly peeked just over her shoulder to look at what she was writing. He scanned her article, taking in each word. She never was never one to brag about her writing. Rose always considered herself more of a photographer than a writer, but with the Torch greatly lacking on student participation, everyone had to pick up a couple extra articles. Clark always thought Rose was a talented writer. When he’d asked her why she had little interest in pursuing it, she’d always say “one of my photos could show you way more than what my words could convey.” Even so, Clark thoroughly enjoyed just about everything Rose said or wrote. Her words meant the world to him.

“Crap- It’s dark now,” her sweet voice rang in his ear as Rose took a long glance out his barn window. “I better get going.”

Clark walked her to the stairs, taking a quick look down to ground level. He shouted at his father, offering a hand as Rose said her goodbyes and left.

Rose had been chatting with Martha just on the front porch when she heard a very loud crashing sound. She and Martha rushed back into the barn. Martha rushed to Jon’s side, inspecting him for any injuries. Rose, she went to Clark, doing the same.

“I’ve never seen anyone move like that,” Jonathan stated, slightly out of breath.

“Did you get a look at his face?” Martha asked.

“He came right off the ceiling at me, it was almost as if he-“

“Wasn’t entirely human?” Clark answered, taking Rose’s hands in his to stop her rapid movements. “I saw his face, I think it was Greg Arkin.”

Rose blushed at the gesture, barely paying attention to the conversation. All she noticed was Clark’s hands on hers.

“That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time,” Martha exclaimed. “You and Pete used to hang out with him in grade school.”

“Why would he wanna hurt you?” Jonathan asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Are you still friends?” Martha asked, tilting her head a bit.

“I pass him in the halls, but people change.”

“I remember his mother used to keep him on a short leash, but I can’t believe he’d hurt a fly.”

“Maybe that’s because he’s too busy collecting them and every other bug he could get his hands on…”

“Clark, kids don’t just leap off the ceiling and attack people.”

“How do you explain that?” Clark let go of Rose’s hands to shine a light on the ceiling. There he revealed slimy green footprints. Rose’s gaze followed the light, now painfully aware of the situation at hand.

“Greg?” She looked between the Kents. “Oh, no…” 

“What? Rose,” Clark looked at her. “What do you know?”

“I kind of canceled on him today��” Rose brushed her hand through her hair. “He got upset and asked if I was blowing him off for… Well… You.” 

“Well, what did you say?” Martha asked, a bit accusatory.

“I said of course not,” Rose explained. “I canceled because something came up at the Torch, nothing more.”

“Son,” Jonathan looked at his son, gesturing to Rose. “I think you should walk the young lady home. We will talk more about this when you get back.”

Clark nodded, gently placing a hand on her back as he guided her out. 

Rose didn’t really like horses. Nell had been an equestrian in her adolescence so she tried to encourage her girls to follow suit as best she could. Lana loved riding. She was good at it. Rose, on the other hand, developed a talent for tumbling to the ground. No, no, she very much hated those spiteful things. 

“Whyyyyyyy,” Rose groaned as she followed Lana with arms full of hay. “Why must I help you with this?”

“Because we’re in a fight and Nell wants us to bond,” Lana replied, taking a bundle of hay and placing it in one of the stables.

“Horses hold grudges, you know?” Rose shuddered. “I’m sure Moonlight is just waiting for the perfect time to get back at me for accidentally clipping a couple of her tail hairs when I slipped while grooming her.”

“Moonlight is a sweet mare, she doesn’t hold grudges,” Lana replied, gesturing at Moonlight’s stable.

Rose’s eyes met Moonlight’s.

“She wants to take over the world.” 

Lana shook her head as she placed a bundle of hay in Moonlight’s stall. 

“Lana!” Whitney jogged into the Stables. “Your aunt said you were out here.

Rose backed a couple paces from the couple. “Should I go?”

“No, stay,” Lana replied before turning her attention back to Whitney. “How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” Whitney started. “That’s not why I’m here, though.”

Rose’s gaze went elsewhere, trying desperately not to look either of them in the eye. The atmosphere in the room was suffocating.

“Lana, when I saw you and Clark outside your house that night, I freaked out,” Whitney explained. “And I wasn’t the only one, Rose did too.”

“Don’t group me with you, I didn’t string up a man.”

“What did you think we were doing?” Lana asked, frowning.

“I guess I got scared,” Whitney sighed. “And did something stupid. I would do anything to take that back.”

“Rose.”

The trio looked in the direction of the voice. Greg stood at the entrance, his eyes fixed on Rose. 

“Rose, you need to come with me. Now.”

“No, thanks, Greg,” Rose tried to give her sweetest smile. “I’m helping my friends here.”

“You heard her,” Whitney stood between them. “I think you should leave.”

“She’s mine now.”

“Get away from her,” Whitney marched towards him.

With ease, Greg grabbed Whitney and launched him to the side. Greg then started towards Rose, who had now pulled Lana to stay behind her. She couldn’t believe her eyes, someone else who was exposed to meteor rocks? Rose extended her hand in front of her and raised it. Vines grew from the ground, swiping at his feet at a weak attempt to stop his advances. Rose was never good at using her abilities for defense.

“It’s time, Rose,” Greg said as he marched forward, trampling over her vines.

“Time for what!?” She shouted back, backing up with Lana.

“For us,” Greg pulled her towards him with record strength and pushed Lana to the side. Lana’s body slammed on one of the stable doors.

“Rose!” The sound of Clark’s voice caused the couple to stir awake.

Clark spotted Lana on the ground and quickly helped her up. Whitney walked out from the stall he was thrown into.

“Greg has her,” Whitney said, a bit out of breath.

“What happened?” Clark asked, looking at the both of them.

“I’m not sure,” Lana replied. “He tossed Whitney aside like it was nothing. Rose tried her best to fight back but he grabbed her and tossed me as well.”

“I’ve never seen somebody that strong before,” Whitney stated.

“Which way did he go?”

“He headed off into the woods.” Lana said.

“I think I know where he’s going,” Clark started off on foot.

“Great, I’ll drive,” Whitney offered, following with Lana.

“You know the old Creekside Foundry?”

“The one that got hit with the meteor shower?”

“Follow the dirt track about a hundred yards back, there’s a tree fort in the woods,” Clark explained as Lana and Whitney got in the car.

“How do you know he’s there?”

“Greg used to collect bugs there when we were kids.”

“Look, Kent, I want to apologize,” Whitney started, he and Lana turned back to look at Clark, but he was gone.

The next thing Rose saw was Whitney. He had taken his car key to cut through the web that encapsulated her. She inhaled deeply as she woke from her induced slumber. She sat up, as Lana quickly wrapped her arms around her.

“What the fuck!?” Rose exclaimed, shuddering. She covered her mouth and gagged, patting Lana’s back. “I hate bugs. I may throw up.”

Lana quickly stepped back from her and helped her up.

“Alright, just don’t barf on me.”

“No promises… Wait, where’s Greg?” Whitney opened the treehouse door for them to climb through.

“I’m not sure, but we need to get you to safety,” Lana explained.

“Okay, take me to Clark,” Rose ordered as her feet met the ground. 

“We don’t know where he is.”

“Well, maybe he’s-“ Rose’s voice was cut off as she was pulled into a firm hug. Her head bounced off a very strong chest. It spun a bit but having realized who’s chest it was, she couldn’t really care. She wrapped her arms around him.

“Found him,” Whitney stated. 

Rose walked up the small staircase. This time with a bag of chips, a blanket, and a couple of pillows. Clark turned to her and grinned.

“Rosalie, what are you doing here?”

“Well…” Rose put on a smile. “A side effect from being kidnapped by a bug man is a couple small little nightmares.”

“I see,” Clark frowned a bit as she stepped closer, adjusting the things in her hands.

“And I owed you a stargazing session,” she lifted the items. “I thought two birds, one stone? I’d feel a lot better with you around.” 

“You don’t have to ask me twice,” Clark smiled, he walked towards her, taking her things in one arm and grabbing her hand. He guided her to his favorite spot in the field, laying her blanket on the grass.

He managed to grab his stereo, setting it at a low volume as the two lay in comfortable silence. Rose noted the song, this genre of music really suited Clark, she thought. Sweet and familiar. Wherever You Will Go by The Calling. She mentally noted it. She stared at Clark as he stared at the sky with a contented smile on his face.

If I could make you mine, I’ll go wherever you will go…

Hey Y'all I'm telling you rn I am definitely not the scheduled posting type and I have three different fanfics going on and I write when inspiration strikes. So if you're following my stories I salute you. Thanks so much lovelies <3

[robinsdearest]

Secrets of an Office Crush

Clark Kent x Reader

Perry had given you six months. You were thankful to get anything at all with this stretch of a story. Six months would have been any journalist’s dream; no other projects, no other small reports in the midst of this investigation. It was just your luck that your mouth would run until it got you the karma you deserved. 

Six months to find out Superman’s true identity. 

It started at the floor meeting, Perry’s sorry excuse to see what his journalists were up to in the middle of the week to surprise his best journalists, or the ones struggling. The new intern was not bright enough to keep your joke of an idea to herself. She even gave you the credit. Perry’s eyebrows were falling off his head, but he laughed. An actual, belly laugh, resulting in fists slammed on the table with a deal. Perry graciously asked if any brave soul wanted to help your ill-fated one. Fortunately enough, the bulk of man from across the office meagerly raised this hand to offer assistance. What a good mood Perry was in that day.

You were remarkably and boundlessly screwed. 

You think back to that fateful moment: the clock had been ticking inordinately long. You hang your head in defeat. 

Your ever fateful sidekick taps his pen on the paper beneath your hands, grabbing your attention. 

“We okay there, sport?” His small town accent had kick started your crush on him a few months before the deal. Your love bug has only gotten worse since then.  

You offer a groan in response. “Kent. We’re five months into this project with not much to show for it.”

The man across from you pauses, most likely tilting his head back and forth contemplating your progress. “I disagree.”

You roll your head to the side, leaning against your shoulder. The conference room Clark had designated your dynamic duo headquarters was reeking of failure. You were sure walking in this morning you smelt something might have died. Maybe it was both of your career paths. Clark continues talking.

“We’ve got a good idea of his flight patterns. We know he’s from the city. We can tell he makes numerous stops in Gotham.” He pauses, as if he hadn’t even realized that fact. “Why does Superman travel to Batman’s jurisdiction so often?” He looks mighty bothered. 

You attempt to suppress a laughing bark. “Why indeed. A story for another time perhaps.” Thinking a bit more suggestively, you grin. You did need a pick-me-up. And picking on Clark was easy. “Maybe Supes and Bats have a different type of night time activity.” Clark pinches the bridge of his nose, pushing his glasses up a little. See? Easy- you can’t help but continue. “Ship name: Superbat.” He puffs air through his nose. You know he can see your grin. You like to see him flustered. “I dig it.”

“I’m pretty sure Superman and Batman are not together, like that. They’re friends from work.”

This only piques your interest. You can play a game even as Perry’s icy fingers of death await you. 

“You can be friends from work and still be together. It happens all the time. Happens in this office, even.” You want it to happen right now. 

“That’s not what I meant.” He looks up at you finally. “I think we would have gotten stronger evidence of their relationship with five months of investigating.”

“Oh, but come on, Kent. Superhero identities with superhero feelings? Superhero relationships? Those are big buck titles.”

His hands are covering his face now- you’re sure there’s a blush somewhere.

“I’m sure Batman and Superman have very different tastes in who they would like in a romantic partner.” Clark sneaks a soft glance in your direction. 

You’re blind to the movement and on a roll. He’s fueling your fire. 

“I also knew there was a rumor Bruce Wayne and Batman were in a relationship. Did you know?”

“I’d have to ask Bruce next time I-“

Maybe even Metropolis below has gone still. 

Clark knows what you’re going to ask before you even open your mouth. He pinches the bridge of his nose again. “No. I can’t get you an exclusive interview with Bruce Wayne.” Another beat of silence. “Yes. I know him.” 

Your jaw has gone slack; you might be letting a pool of drool form. Clark reaches a curled finger to your face, lifting your chin back into place. His finger lingers a fraction too long, accidentally stroking the side of your cheek. The intimacy of the gesture has you clamping your mouth and your legs together. Neither motions are missed by Clark. His mouth turns slightly upward. Maybe he also likes to see you flustered. 

You ruin the moment.

“Would you like to get dinner?”

Clark looks at his watch. “It’s not even one o’clock. We finished eating lunch thirty minutes ago.”

Apparently two can play this game. You shake your head. “No, I mean at a later time.” Like a date, you want to scream. 

“We usually get dinner together since we’ve been working on this project.” 

It’s your turn to blush. Since he’s on his roll, you might as well get bold.

“That’s work dinner. Not what I was hoping for.” 

His smile is simply arrogant. “Are you not going to tell me what you want?”

“Dammit Kent!” The level of your voice surprises even you. You really were flustered. “You know what I mean!”

Clark opens his mouth to reply, but just as quickly shuts it. He immediately stills, as if listening for something. He stands abruptly, his chair screeching backwards. Clark mumbles a mixed apology, something between a bathroom break and a few minutes of air. 

You slam back into your chair and pout. Your damn heart, damn mind- why couldn’t you have just waited patiently for that to happen naturally? Whatever that was. 

Clark is missing for a little longer than a few minutes. Maybe your endless prodding and teasing has finally pushed your office crush away. You sulk, mentally drafting your two-week notice to Perry. Forget about Superman’s identity. 

Your phone vibrates erratically with a news report. Likely another Amber Alert or civil threat. 

Instead, it’s a live video feed from one of the Daily Planet’s cameramen stationed on a beach somewhere around the world. The video roars into sound and footage of Superman fighting off a beast: gnarly, lengthy, and ghastly. This battle won’t take long, the poor alien too ignorant to know how outmatched it might be against the Man of Steel. Correct as always, the live feed had barely just begun before the show was over; only a few minutes of screen time for the two of them today. Superman had outdone himself once again- he floats above the now limp and broken carcass. The beast looks other worldly, but Superman, an alien himself, does not mirror the creature. 

The grin on the Kryptonian is just as arrogant and stifling as Clark’s was not even fifteen minutes ago. 

Your lunch turns leaden in your stomach. 

The pieces start inching their way together. Pieces of a puzzle you knew that you had, but not to such magnitude. You should have seen it. The flight patterns in and out of Metropolis, in and out of the Daily Planet. Clark knew a little too much information about the Kryptonian counterpart. Was this his idea of a joke? Clark must have agreed to help your investigation in order to send you in the opposite direction. Did he realize that the misinformation was adding into the whole story? For five months you’ve clutched this data and didn’t realize the utter weight behind any of it. Maybe your office crush wanted you to find him. Hell, he volunteered to help man the search. 

You have the shadow of a grin when Clark returns to the room about half an hour later. You don’t want to look too pleased with yourself, you did yell at him the last time he was here. 

He still has a few specs of sand in his hair. He smells of salt and citrus. The only death smell in this room now might be the alien blood dried under Clark’s fingertips. 

He wordlessly returns to his seat beside you. You whisper his name as he wipes a hand down his face. You wait a few moments before speaking.

“How was the bathroom?”

Clark actually laughs. The sound is beautiful, enriching. He whispers your name in return. 

“I don’t know why I let you continue your story.” He admits after a few more seconds of silence. “I should have put a stop to this investigation months ago.” He turns to you. “Didn’t think I would like spending so much time with you.” He seems relaxed sitting in his chair, but the tension of his shoulders sells his fears away. 

“I’ve already drafted my resignation letter to Perry. Your secret is safe with me.” You stand, turning to instead sit on the table in front of Clark. “But I would still like that dinner in return.” 

“I could do better than dinner.” More teasing? 

You cock an eyebrow at him as he sits before you. Clark leans forward, catching your lips in a smoldering kiss. 

When he leans back into his seat, you’re both a little breathless. You’re absolutely awestruck. You kiss your sidekick again before deciding to pester him a final time. 

“But what about an interview with Bruce Wayne?”

“I’ll have to ask my friend from work.”

You heave a deep sigh. “It could be the only way to keep my job with Perry since I don’t have a Superman story.”

Clark’s grin is one-sided, wide and cheeky. “I’ll think about it.”

“It’s not like you’re going to make me beg for you.”

“Mm.” Clark inches his head side to side, feigning contemplation. He tilts your chin down with a finger, then kisses you softly. “I’ll promise to try.“

Not much later that night, your Kryptonian office crush makes good on his promise. 

[tiredofsatansbullshit]

Superman and Batman are friends (associates?). Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne however are a whole other story

Masterlist of fics

Summary: Bruce Wayne knows that Clark Kent is Superman. Clark Kent knows that Bruce Wayne is Batman. Neither has said anything about knowing and so they are waiting for either the other to say something or for one of them to slip up.

Batman and Superman have been working together occasionally. It’s not that they’ve been actively trying to but there’s been some overlap in cases and they might as well have just done it together.

This doesn’t mean that Bruce trusts Superman, he’d just rather keep the alien close to be able to observe him. When Superman first started operating in Metropolis, Bruce started a file on him. At first it was slow going in gathering information but after working a couple cases together and some slip ups from the Man of Steel, Bruce was able to figure out Superman’s civilian identity. Clark Kent. A journalist for the Daily Planet.

Clark was pretty weary of Batman when he first encountered the man on a case. He originally thought the rumours of the Bat in Gotham was just that, rumours. After their first case together, Batman had added lead lining to the batsuit cowl, but Clark had already seen his face. Bruce Wayne is Batman. Out of respect to Bruce, Clark said nothing and continued to refer to Bruce as Batman when it was just the two of them. He hoped to reach a point where they both trusted each other enough to disclose their civilian identities over time.

The problem came when, after almost two years of working together neither said anything about their civilian identities. They worked well together and got along even better. Clark considered them friends (Bruce considered them work associates) but they sometimes found themselves in awkward-ish situations that could so easily be avoided if they just were honest with each other.

The latest of these above mentioned situations was perhaps one of the worst (or best, depending on your perspective), Clark was attending a charity gala on assignment, he was supposed to report on the speech and attempt for an interview with the host of the event and get comments from others attending. Bruce Wayne attended the same gala for a couple reasons, firstly to keep up appearances and further establish his Brucie Wayne persona as billionaire, playboy, philanthropist, and secondly some weapons traffickers that he’s been following made their way to Metropolis and he needed more information on them before he made his move. He could have asked Superman for help seeing as Metropolis is Superman’s city but Bruce was not feeling like sharing his case.

Lois hadn’t really been in the mood to be at this charity gala, she had so much work she wanted to finish off and couldn’t wait to get home but when Clark asked her to attend the gala with him she couldn’t say no. To her surprise the night wasn’t going as bad as she thought it would. Sure the speeches were boring and the food wasn’t good but the situation she found herself in was pretty enjoyable. Clark sat on her right, looking either nervous of annoyed, Lois couldn’t tell which exactly. Across the table from them was Bruce Wayne, the Prince of Gotham. She’d seen him a few times before at various events she’d reported on but never had the chance to have an actual conversation with him. There was some tension between the two men, Lois doesn’t know why but there’s definitely something there as the two kept sneaking glances at the other. Turning her attention back to the other women at the table who have been talking animatedly for most of the night, she smiled and nodded along with their conversation and when they excused themselves to go to the bathroom Lois felt somewhat relieved, tired of their constant chattering.

Turning her attention back to the men, expecting Clark to ask Bruce Wayne about his thoughts on the gala or at least try and get a quote from the man she found them having what she wants to describe as a staring contest, until Bruce Wayne cleared his throat and broke the eye contact to glance around the room before he shrugged his suit jacket off and speaking up, “It’s been such a hot day and these fans don’t seem to be doing much, i don’t know how you can still sit wearing a jacket and shirt, Mr Kent.”

Clark smiled somewhat sarcastically at Bruce Wayne before responding, “I’m doing alright, thank you Mr Wayne. If you’d like to unbutton your shirt though we’d understand”

“Oh, you don��t feel the heat do you? How strange. With how hot it is you’d have to be used to extreme conditions to be able to sit with a jacket on right now, maybe even a whole other type of climate.”

“Actually, I’m from Kansas so I don’t get easily bothered by this kind of mild heat”

“You don’t have much of an accent to be from Kansas, were you not born there?”

Letting out a soft, unamused chuckle, Clark leaned forward, “Sounding a bit like a detective right now Mr Wayne, I feel like i’m under investigation right now.”

Glancing between the two, Lois decided to change the subject, “Mr Wayne, what are your thoughts on the speech from earlier?”

Turning to smile at her, Bruce responded, “It is a noble cause and I am glad to do my part to help. I know to some the course of action being taken might be seen as foreign, or even alien,” he added some emphasis at the word, shooting a glance at Clark before continuing, “but I will be supporting the cause as I’m not one to jump to judgement based off a surface level look at circumstances. It was a pleasure to meet you Ms Lane but if you’ll excuse me please.” With that Bruce got up from the table and made his way across the room, disappearing from her line of sight.

Turning to Clark she slapped his arm, “Why didn’t you tell me there’s something going on between you and Bruce Wayne?”

“What”

“Come on Clark, after sitting through all of that you can’t tell me that was the first time you’ve met him, I won’t judge you if you’re in some sort of relationship with him but maybe it’s not the best idea for you to be getting quotes or any sort of interview from him as it won’t be unbiased.” Clark stared at her in shock, opening and closing his mouth a couple times, being unsure as to what to say.

This is the first fic I ever posted on AO3 so it is definitely not my best. I enjoy the storyline though and one day I'll probably retype it but for now this is what you get.

[cardierreh15]

Believer

Hi y’all! Posting this but I will be editing over time. 🥰 i hope y’all enjoy this though. This one was a little bit more tough.

**I do not give anyone permission to repost or copy my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Mentions of being Burned , Dying , (please tell me if I’ve missed any)

Description: Cardierre has a close encounter with Death.

Pairing: Henry Cavill (Superman/Kal-El/Clark Kent) x Cardierre James (Black!Plus Size Female OC) — Special Guest : Ben Affleck (Bruce Wayne)

Word Count:

The Planet’s Visitor

The sound of a cork being popped filled the air along with the squeal and laughter of women. Bubbly champagne overflowed the side of the expensive Armand de Brignac bottle. Steve then began to fill up everyone’s flute. Clark and Cardi stood close to one another as Perry was the last one to have his glass filled.

Small conversation and chatter circulated the room until the sound of Perry clinking quieted the room. ‘May I have your attention please ladies and gentlemen,’ the room grew quiet and all of the attention was on their boss. ‘First and foremost— I would like to Welcome Clark back. Even though… we don’t really know how this was possible but, we are glad to have you back.’

Everyone turned their gazes towards Clark, raising their glasses towards the ceiling gently, ‘Welcome back, Clark!’ They all chimed it, some voices on time and others late.

Perry then turned his attention towards Cardierre who had her hand resting on her hip. She seem tired from the days work and he’d be sure to mention how hard working she truly was in his speech. ‘As all of you may know… recently, Cardierre had broke a record of being the most read reporter in the United States for her article: Return of the Red Cape. If you have read it, you know how impressive it was. It sure did have me at the edge of my seat. Cardierre, this is to you. Congratulations on this epic record! I— along with the rest of the Daily Planet— are very proud to have you with us.’

Cardi wasn’t that great with things like this. But it sure did feel nice to get that recognition from her boss. ‘Thank you all. I’m grateful to have such a supportive team to help me craft such an important article. This story meant everything to me… especially since I felt like I was about to die.’ She chuckled nervously, scratching the back of her head. The room filled with low laughter.

The tall male glanced down at her through his glasses. He wouldn’t dare harm her.

‘Anyway, I would like to thank you Perry for giving me the opportunity to allow me to put my experience and feelings on paper for the world to see,’ she lifted her flute with a smile, ‘To You Perry. To the Planet. Figurative and literally!’ The room burst with laughter before everyone placed their glasses between their lips and sipped at their champagne.

She had walked back over to her desk to see a beautiful arrangement of roses sitting atop it. Shaped in a full heart, the pedals looked so soft to the touch.

Cardi smiled softly, picking up the small fancy card. ‘Wonder who this is from?’ The card read: Congratulations on your groundbreaking success. May more success welcome you within open arms. B.

She then instantly knew exactly who sent these her way.

‘Looks like you have an secret admirer!’ Clark said, walking over and carefully leaned against her desk. ‘They look pricy!’

‘Very.’

A familiar voice had finally filled the air, ‘Ah! There’s my girl! Cardi!’

She turned around to see a man approaching them. Broad shoulders, tall frame. His sleeves were rolled up his forearms. He wore a dress shirt and a simple dark gray vest over the shirt, with dark gray slacks and shiny dress shoes. His arms were open, as if he were waiting for a hug. He was unrecognizable from a human eye. But once she grew closer, a grin curled on his lips.

‘Bruce?’ She was hesitant at first, but once she was sure that it was him, ‘BRUCE!’ She rushed towards her friend, damn near leaping into his arms. Effortlessly, he wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her around as the both laughed with glee. Once he’d placed her on her feet, she braced herself, finding her footing so she wouldn’t fall over from her dizziness. ‘Whoa.’ He grabbed her arms, keeping her still for a moment. ‘You alright?!’ He chuckled. ‘I am! Gosh! It’s been ages my friend! How are you?’

Bruce gave her a smile, it was like he didn’t want to answer her question… or didn’t know where to even begin. But Clark didn’t only save innocent lives… he saved conversations too. Bruce looked up at Clark who was approaching the two of them.

‘Mr. Wayne.’ Clark adjusted his glasses and gave him a nod.

‘How many times have I told you? Call me Bruce, Clark.’

Cardi was confused… out of this world. Her eyebrows tugged into one. Looking from Bruce to Clark and from Clark to Bruce. ‘Wait, you two know one another?!’

A lot better than she could even imagine.

‘Uh—‘ Clark took in a deep breath, trying to figure out how to put it in the right words. ‘We’ve… had to work together before.’

‘Yes. Confidential of course but— yes.’

‘Oh.’ Cardierre said, her eyebrows risen from surprise. ‘Small world I suppose.’

It grew quiet between the three of them for a moment. But the air was tense. So thick, it could easily be cut with a butter knife.

The woman wasn’t dumb. Graduating at top 10 of her class at Duke University, it was very easy to pick up secretive behavior. There was something they weren’t telling her.

The moment was broken once Perry called out for Clark to come and join him and their colleagues on a conversation. ‘Excuse me. Nice to see you… Bruce.’ Holding out his large hand, Bruce did not hesitate to pull out his hand, give it a firm grip and a simple shake. ‘Good to see you too, Clark.’ Bruce gave him a nod before Clark turned away.

The large male and female watched him walk away until Cardierre spoke up. ‘What are you doing here? Finally moving out of Gotham?’ It was joke. She knew her friend would never move away from that God forsaken place. She really couldn’t say she blamed him either. His business was there… he was trying to repair it… or at least help. But she’d mentioned it before, that place was way past helping. Way past saving.

Bruce chuckled at her joke, folding his arms over his chest, ‘I’m here on business. You forget Wayne Enterprise is Global.’

‘Nope,’ she smirked, ‘Never forgot. But why are you… here?’

Bruce paused for a second, swallowing his spit. He was conjuring up a lie. And she knew her friend long enough to notice. ‘To bring you flowers…’

She stared up at him, her lips in a slight curve to distinguish that she was smiling, but telling him that she knew he was full of shit. ‘Mmmmhmm.’

‘What?’

Cardi rolled her eyes and huffed, ‘Nothing. Just you haven’t changed… and—‘ she took a step forward, poking him in his chest, ‘You’re still a terrible liar.’ Turning swiftly on her toes, she walked back to her desk and gathered her things. ‘How is Harvey?’

‘Mmm…’ Bruce had walked behind her, his hands deep in his pockets as he looked up at the ceiling to think. ‘Uh… well— if you must know. He got hurt pretty bad.’

She gasped, turning halfway to face him. Her face froze in horror with her lips parted slightly, and her eyes enlarged. ‘What happened?! Is he alright?!’

‘Oh. He’s fine. A little too fine I suppose. He’s become one of Gotham’s renowned villains.’

Letting out a exhausted sigh, she folded her arms across her chest. ‘Poor Harvey. He had so much ambition… I guess a little bit too much.’ She scuffed and turned around, continuing on her mission to pack her things, ‘And the Batman? What’s he been up to these days?’

Bruce smirked, ‘I dunno. I don’t stay out late to find out for myself.’

Raising a brow as she smirked, throwing her purse over her shoulder and then picking up her flowers, ‘Good… last thing I need to hear is that one of my close friends got his spine split in half by a vigilante that swore to protect the innocent.’ Bruce chuckled at remark and shook his head. She turned around and placed them in his arms. ‘Walk me to my car?’

‘Sure.’ He smiled.

The young woman waved her hand, ‘Goodnight everyone! I will see you all in the mornin’!’

Everyone lifted their heads from the huddle they were in and waved their hands as well. ‘Bye, Cardi!’ They all said in sync.

***

On the way to her car, the two did their best to catch up. Bruce was a lot more closed off than she remembered and Cardi’s life consisted of working nonstop. She didn’t even believe in vacations… her saying “I’ll rest when I’m dead.” And pretty soon, she’ll realize she was taking life for granted.

‘Thank you.’ She took the soft pink flowers out of Bruce’s arms and placed them in the backseat. She then shut the door and turned around to see her friend. He had grown up— so much… and well might she add. The two stared at one another for a moment longer before she spoke, ‘I hope you have been being safe in Gotham. It just seems like the world is becoming a bad place everyday. You’re my friend, Bruce. And I want the best for you. Why don’t you just move here? Instead.’

Bruce sighed and shook his head, ‘You know I can’t do that.’ He didn’t even have to explain… because she already knew why.

‘I know.’ She gave him a gentle smile, ‘I was just trying to see if you’d change your mind. Still pretty headstrong.’ The both of them laughed softly before it grew quiet again. ‘Be good, Bruce.’ She reached up and rubbed her knuckles on his stubbly jaw before leaning up and placing a kiss on his cheek. She then got in her car, started it up and left him in that very same spot.

***

On the way home, she was in stand still traffic. This made her want to move out of the city in the first place. But since she worked here, leaving this place was always damn near impossible.

Relieved, she made it to the light right before she had to get on the interstate. But something had captured her attention. Bright flames had glowed in an apartment building, and a few people began to gather around. Quickly pulling over to the side and getting out her car, she rushed towards the group of people. The fire began to grow wilder, with the sounds of screaming and frightened people filled the air.

She looked around, noticing there were a few people on the phone with 911. But her attention was captured by a screaming man who was being dragged out by other men. ‘MY DAUGHTER! MY DAUGHTER IS IN THERE!’ He was in distress. Coughing to death. He had no energy to fight but all his energy went towards the shouting for his child.

This stirred up a feeling inside Cardi that she had never felt. The feeling to protect, even if it meant risking her life. After all, if it was her child in a burning building, and Superman was no where to be found, she would hope someone stepped up to be a hero for her.

Rushing over to the 3 men who were in coughing fits, she asked— ‘sir! What floor is your daughter on?! Where can I find her?!’ She had to yell over the sound of burning and collapsing debris.

‘2nd… floor.’ He wheezed. ‘Please… my baby… she’s all… I have.’

Taking in a deep breath, she looked up at the building. The flames were moving faster than she could have imagined. She had to move quickly.

Quickly, Cardi tied up her hair and kicked off her heels. She snatched off her blazer and tossed it on the ground. Suddenly, she heard the blaring of sirens rushing around the corner. The police, fire fighters and paramedics. She had to move before she had no chance to go. The crowd called out behind her as she raced inside.

Hey! Hey! What are you doing?!

Oh my god!

She’s going to die in there!

Stepping inside, she immediately regretted her decision. As soon as that smoke hit her lungs, she coughed as if her lungs were clawing their way out of her throat. It burned to breathe, but she had to keep pushing.

The floor was warm, not hot enough to burn her feet but hot enough to have her move quickly.

The stairs hadn’t fallen through yet, but they looked like they were on the verge. So even with her cough, Cardi rushed up that flight of stairs to get to the second floor.

When she made it, she thought all was lost. The 3rd floor had already fallen through and the flames are as tall as the ceiling. Suddenly, she heard whimpering. ‘Papa!? Where are you papa?!’ Through the wall. A shroud of hope covered her. She looked at the door that was partially blocked by burning debris. She wouldn’t be able to make it through there. But the wall was already burning and coming apart. ‘WAIT A MINUTE HONEY! IM GOING TO GET YOU OUT OF THERE!’ She yelled before she broke out into another fit of coughs.

Looking around, Cardi tried to find anything durable enough to break down this wall. There was a metal pipe laying on the ground. ‘This should work.’ And as soon as she picked it up, the metal singed her palms. Letting out a pained hiss, ‘AH!’ She quickly dropped it and backed away. She looked down at her hands, pink and burned. ‘Dammit.’ She cursed herself. She had to think quickly, so she unbuttoned her shirt, and wrapped it around the metal for protection. She then painfully picked up that metal pipe and started beating a hole into the wall.

Boom! Crash! Is all she could hear. She stopped for a second, terrified of the ceiling had finally caved in on the child. ‘HELLO!? SWEET HEART ARE YOU THERE?!’ No answer. Cardi’s eyes filled with tears. ‘No, no-no-no. Uh uh.’ She started beating faster, pushing through as hard as she could as her coughing became unbearable by the second.

Finally, she squeezed herself into the hole she created. Cutting, scraping, and burning her flesh as she did so. ‘Urrrrrggghhh!’ She groaned out in pain. And once through, she saw the child sitting in the corner of her bedroom. It was untouched by the fire. She held a little plush kitty towards her chest. She was safe.

‘Oh baby girl…’ Cardi gushed as she coughed. Limping in pain and exhaustion, she made her way to the child. ‘I’m a friend of daddy’s OK? I’ve come to get you out of here alright? What is your name?’

The girl looked at her with swollen teary eyes. She seem to have been crying forever, and clearly — it was hard for her to breathe too. ‘Mya…’

‘Oh…’ Cardi sighed softly, ‘That’s…’ she sighed again, ‘Such a pretty … name.’ She looked around for a second, and noticed the window. She quickly stood up and rushed over towards it and pushed it open. ‘Mya…’ she breathe heavily before coughing. ‘We have to get out of here…come.’ Opening her arms, the child didn’t hesitate to crawl into the unfamiliar woman’s arms.

Finding a piece of cloth, she used it to twist the door knob painfully. And when she did, the hall way was blocked off in blazing debris. This must’ve been what she heard outside her door. She coughed some more as the little girl whined, worriedly. ‘Shhh, it’s OK.’ Cardi whispered before quickly closing the door.

‘Shit.’ She cursed and walked over to the window to try and her fresh air. But to no avail. The air wasn’t circulating fast enough and the longer they stayed, the harder it became to breathe.

‘We’re going to die aren’t we?’ The child asked.

Cardi looked at her with narrowed eyes, ‘No… no… we don’t do that… we are— strong… we can… we can do this.’ She fought as she felt herself losing her own consciousness. Her chest burned as she did her best to push down her coughing, but it just felt soothing to do so.

Crash! The apartment shook beneath their feet. The woman and the child looked at the door. The floor in the hallway must’ve finally gave way. The little girl whimpered, her bottom lip trembling as she looked at the woman for hope.

Wheezing, Cardi placed her burned, stinging palm on the girl’s smoke covered cheek. ‘Don’t— worry. We will figure out a plan.’ Suddenly, loud cracking filled the poisoned air. She looked up to see ceiling, cracking. Quickly. Right before the ceiling finally crumbled, Cardi snatched little Mya up with all the strength she had left in her and dashed to the corner of the room, sitting right beneath the window.

Mya screamed in fear as they watched the floor eat the heavy debris covered in flames. ‘Shhhh… shhh. It’s… OK.’ She stroked the child’s head sweetly. Cardi watched that hole in the floor. Glowing like the fiery pits of hell. She wasn’t the type to give up… but she was tired. Literally burnt out. Never would she have imagined though, she’d die this way.

Holding the small girl in her lap as Cardi gained closure of her fate, she whispered, ‘How… old are you?’

The little girl wheezed… hesitating to answer as her weakness got the best to her too. ‘… 4…’

‘Oh…’ she scoffed weakly, ‘You are… the bravest… 4 year old… I’ve ever…’ she was struggling. She was so tired. ‘Sleep.. so… sleepy.’ And finally… letting the idea of sleep, welcome her with open arms.

But, only for a short moment.

She didn’t feel herself being lifted off of the ground, nor did she really have the strength to open her eyes all the way.

Through blurry eyes, she saw red and blue. Wheezing— she couldn’t say much. Too weak to even mouth anything… she just laid there almost lifeless in his arms.

Hearing the cheers of people around them, chanting his name as he carried both her and the little girl towards the stretchers. They had placed oxygen masks over their noses. The child was interacting well with her father… but Cardi— was barely holding up. Finally, opening her eyes a little bit more, she was able to see his face. They were tired and still burned as if someone stuck hot coals on them.

But he was so much more beautiful… majestic up close. She had encountered him before… but to have him save her— she was lost for words… wasn’t like she could talk anyway.

‘You’re going to be alright, ma’am.’ He said, his voice stern, deep and positive. Giving him a weak smile as they lifted her up in the truck, the soon passed out once again once out of her sight.

***

She had awakened in the worst pain she could ever imagine. Cardi ached so bad, she could not move. ‘Ah.’ Her voice was still partially gone, her throat hurt and the lights were so damn bright.

Blinking enough times to make out her surroundings, she took note that she was in the hospital, and what she went through the other night was not in fact a dream but real life. She carefully looked over to the left to her table was covered in flowers and cards. They looked fresh and alive.. so she couldn’t have been out for a long time. What a relief.

[the-golden-oath]

Backscatter

AO3 Link Here

Summary:

"And what is it I need, Clark?" His heart was thundering, pulse hot and rapid in his throat. He scooted closer to Clark—close enough to feel his body heat off his chest, Jesus, he felt burning hot—and pressed their thighs together resolutely. Clark flicked his icy gaze from Jason's face and down to their legs. "Do you want me to tell you or do you want to take it?" "I want to take it," Jason growled. And descended.

Words: 2,576

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply

Category: M/M

Fandom: DCU

Relationship: Clark Kent/Jason Todd

Characters: Clark Kent, Jason Todd

Additional Tags: Sexual Content, Riding, Service Top Clark Kent, absolutely feral horny jason todd, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Collars, Praise Kink, jason wants it rough but clark likes having him alive lol

[superbat-love]

Clark: [stares at Ace] Is that what I think it is?

Bruce: Oh, that’s Chewperman, Ace’s favorite chew toy.

Clark: You let Ace chew on a mini me?

Bruce: That’s what it’s made for. If it makes you feel bad, I’ll make one for Krypto too. He’ll love it, right boy?

Ace: Woof.

The following week at the Fortress of Solitude…

Bruce: Why is this toy kept behind a glass casing? It’s meant for Krypto. [takes it out of the casing and tosses it to Krypto] Here boy!

Krypto: [happily chomps on the Batman chew toy]

Clark: Noooo! Don’t! Krypto, let go of Batsqueak!

Bruce: Batsqueak?

Clark: It just feels wrong, Bruce! I can’t bear to let any harm come to Batsqueak. He should be kept safe in his ice cave, not mauled by giant fangs.

Bruce: …

[sistertotheknowitall]

Don’t imagine Dani/Ellie meeting Kon in front of Superman and off handedly mentioning she’s a clone. Don’t imagine Kon also explaining he’s a clone. Don’t imagine Ellie getting so excited to meet another clone who survived.

Don’t imagine Kon’s feelings when Ellie starts rambling about her Dad. About how great he is and how much he loves her. That despite her being a clone of him and his enemy, he knows it wasn’t her fault.

Don’t imagine how uncomfortable/uneasy Superman is. Don’t imagine Clark trying to justify his actions. Being so stubborn and self righteous that his words are just full of empty reasons. Don’t imagine his justification making Ellie angry and Kon really really sad.

Do imagine Batman being there and glaring openly at Clark.

(Bonus: also imagine Ghost King Danny being there and willing to fight Superman.)

[nouearth]

servicing justice: superman [1]

pairing ; kal-el / clark kent / superman x m!reader. fandom: ; dc, superman. word count ; 2144. series ; servicing justice. genre ; smut. rating ; m. warnings ; bigdick!superman. blowjob. gloryhole. handjob. mouth-fucking. oral (reader giving). sexworker!reader. note ; yeah, okay. maybe i've been watching too much of a certain video genre, ahem. but i hope you guys enjoy my first smut! it's been a WHILE since i've written one, so i know it's rusty, HAHA. looks-wise, i mostly had maws's superman in mind (because the art style is so good and so himbo), but feel free to imagine it with any superman!

it isn’t the most comfortable position to be in. you’ve been kneeling on the floor for quite some time now, waiting for your assigned client. your palms begin to sweat to a minimal but uncomfortable degree. did i fuck up already? you ask yourself as your mind clouds with questions, doubts, and even judgement regarding this new job.

“jesus, what did i get myself into…” you recall the long process it took for you to end up here. the intensive (and ridiculously long) process of reading and signing multiple forms and documents almost had you backing out of this opportunity. though looking back at it, it was understandable since it’s quite unheard of to be… a sex worker for superheroes.

for an incredible pay, your privacy will essentially be stripped away starting from today. all phone messages, calls, and social media activities will be monitored during your venture as a sex worker, and that post-graduate life was not going to pay itself. for the most part, so far everything seemed… great? being driven to work by a chauffeur, having your own personal room and health coverage provided, and most importantly… eating free lunch was not bad at all.

or maybe you’re just naïve.

all you had to do was kneel and suck a few superhumans off. as the newbie, you were told that you’ll be starting on gloryhole duty due to privacy reasons; at least until you built enough camaraderie. though, you didn’t even mind since there would certainly be less strain on your body.

you couldn’t help but snicker at the mere thought of an entire league of superheroes holding a meeting regarding this subject matter. especially since almost everyone in the world, including you, holds these superheroes in such high regard.

“meeting is adjourned until 9 am tomorrow! until then, please help yourself to some delicious food trucks from outer spac-“ your humorous imitation of a noble superhero is silenced when you hear the door opening. within your private booth, all that blocks you from meeting your approaching client is another door with a hole cut through.

your curiosity is piqued when you catch a sight of the man’s physique through the hole. plaid shirt and jeans aside, and assuming he had to underdress, he’s huge. maybe because you’re kneeling right now, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve never been near a superhero before, but you couldn’t help but be in awe at the size of the man. your eyes complete a full body scan by the time he approaches the door and before you could say something, he does.

“sorry i was late-“ a gentle voice echoes behind the door. contrary to his soft voice, the man’s large hands work aggressively at his belt, unlooping the leather with impatience yet eagerness as he anticipates the mouth that’s been waiting for his arrival. “there was this whole thing with this cat in this tree and then this school bus got hijacked- not my best day, unfortunately.”

“i’m sorry to hear that. sounds like a stressful day, yeah?” your voice is compassionate. you felt bad for the unnamed superhero and a part of you wanted to continue the conversation further, but your job isn’t to listen to their feelings. it’s to pleasure.

“yeah…” a huge sigh of relief expels from the man’s dry throat when he pulls his pants down. frustration stains another one of your client’s sigh, clearly troubled by the restrictive fabric guarding his erection. you watch with parted lips as he couldn’t help but give himself a needy stroke through his tight briefs, fondling his balls then beelining his palm to the very plump tip of his cock. your own cock hardens at this scene, and you find yourself doing the very same. mimicking his impatient hand to tend to the sensitive pressure below, you tiptoe the fine line between frustration and pleasure as your tightening pants and briefs define what it means to be an absolute nuisance. “very stressful.”

it doesn’t take much time before you’re faceful of cock and somehow, you manage to salivate more than you did a minute ago. the man’s throbbing erection is brimmed with thick pre-cum, stress practically leaving his body with every drip. it’s a heavenly sight that’s enough to make you stick your tongue out just in time to catch the substance into your mouth, not wanting to waste a single drop. the salty taste always catches you off-guard yet at the same time, it puts you under a spell. a tantalizing spell that commands you to drag your warm tongue over and back the underside of his thick shaft, completely avoiding the plump glans to have his cock leak even more… stress.

the taste of his musk drives your palm further into your erection, palming at whatever you could as you preoccupy yourself with teasing the man. you almost felt bad for him. contrary to his build, his whimpers are… so small, so weak. you notice his hands grip over the top of the barrier, and it turns you on upon realizing how this supposed hero could become so fragile at the simple taunt of your tongue.

“please…” the superhero whimpers out, needlessly fucking the air in hopes of granting his cock some type of friction. you’re amazed, and a little proud, by how much pre-cum he’s been leaking by now, and it all goes right onto your tongue. the wet muscle follows the natural curve of his cock to meet up with the wet and plump head. his hips buckle into the barrier and feeling it shake, you keep him steady by wrapping your hand around his shaft. you’re addicted at this point. addicted to the salty taste of his pre-cum as your tongue licks and explores into the slit of his cock, while at the same time, your hand works at his large cock in slow, but steady strokes.

“oh christ-“ he breathes out, repeating the same two words under his shaky breath as you continue to pleasure him with your tongue and hand. after a few licks, you pull away to give your tongue a break. in doing so, your grip tightens around his shaft to pace your strokes quicker. when you find a moment where your wrist needs a break, you let your client catch his breath. his cock throbbing more and more with every passing second when your tongue and hand aren’t exploring him, and you bask in the sight of it. you believe you deserve a medal at this point. not for doing a great job (though, it doesn’t seem too far-fetched), but for having control. you haven’t even sucked him off yet, but you’re content on remaining just like this for a while longer. though, that wouldn’t be fair for the superhero.

before he could whimper out another plea, your warm mouth finally wraps around the head of his cock and your ears perk at the sound of his low moan almost instantly. your hand returns to its rightful position around the lower base of his penis as you cycle your tongue over the glans, satisfying your need to taste his musk once more. seconds later, your hand lets go when you push your head farther, taking in an inch more of the hero’s cock. your knees dig into the floor as you push your head more and more, stretching your mouth with his cock until you feel yourself gagging.

“fuck.” you sniffle out when you pull back. perhaps you were challenging yourself too hard. you think to yourself as you catch your breath, using the remaining moment to sloppily jerk him off with your saliva. part of you wanted to challenge yourself to deepthroat him, impress your client on the first day. but you already know you wouldn’t be able to take it… at least, for now.

“you could hurt someone with this, y’know?” for some reason, you thought you needed to crack a joke as if there was an awkward silence that needed to be filled. maybe you just wanted to hear him talk again. his voice is warm and inviting, somewhat fitting for a superhero or even a television host as the moment you hear his voice again, you felt safe.

“i have before- oh god.” you lube up his cock with your spit as you continue to jerk him off, refraining yourself from fucking his slit with your tongue again to concentrate on his words. “which is why i don’t do this much- sex and stuff… it’s all troublesome, really.”

“yeah?” and just when you talked yourself out of challenging yourself, you feel the competitive spark ignite inside of you again. “well, i guess you just have to find the right one. could be anyone, even people you just met.” you try to play it nonchalantly, hoping that double-handing his wet cock would distract him.

he was beyond speechless at this point, moans drawn out by means of your sloppy strokes. you swear you can hear his heartbeat behind the barrier when you lean your head closer to suck him off again. you moan along with him, drawing out every breath of yours as you bob your head up and down, taking more of his cock every time you come down. your hand twists and strokes the remaining few inches that isn’t violated by your tongue and mouth, following your mouth like a reel as your intent to make him cum is fervent more than ever.

it hurts. your mouth hurts by how large your client is and tears brim in your eyes as you hold yourself back from gagging. but you don’t stop yourself because you’ll know it’ll be worth it. your endeavor to please him to the fullest has you drowning out his groans into white noise and you can barely register the fact that you’ve been on paused for a while now. you find yourself in a closer position than before, where your mouth is open, lips fully pressed around the carved hole as the superhero fucks into your mouth, fucks into your gags like you’re his personal flesh light. you didn’t care how dirty you looked, how you had saliva and spittle dripping out from the corners of your mouth and onto the floor. who would see? and you didn’t care that you were too preoccupied to touch your dick right now, because you know you’ll be thinking about this very moment for the rest of your life. and right now, you didn’t know if you wanted to be covered in his cum or to have your mouth be filled with it.

remaining in this position, you glance your teary eyes up at his grip over the barrier again. the strength in his grasp forms small cracks in the material of the barrier and that was the sign you knew you fulfilled your sense of purpose.

“christ, i’m going to come-“ your eyes shut again and you breathe through your noise, bracing for impact. he pushes his cock down your throat and hits that sore spot one last time before unloading his cum into your mouth with a stifled groan. warm, hot seed quickly fills you up and you pull your head back an inch to fully enclose your lips around his cock, ensuring none escape your lips.

in a heartbeat, you swallowed it all. his warm cum coats the back of your throat like medicine and you moan around his cock at the taste, intoxicated. you made sure to lick every inch of his cock clean, calmly slurping any saliva and cum that threatens to leave your mouth as you pull back up with a soft pop, swallowing the remaining remnants of his stress away.

“t-thank you. i needed that…” he pulls his softening cock out, careful in avoiding the hole as he was still sensitive. “did you need a tissue or anything? i think i have one somewhere…” you can hear him rummage through what you can only assume would be his bag and you find it charming, a quiet laugh leaving your swollen lips as you lean back onto your elbows to take a breather and stretch your legs out.

“no, no. i’m okay. i, uh, don’t think i wasted a drop.” you proudly brag, only for him to respond with a shy chuckle. you watch him tidy himself through the hole from a leaned back view, occasionally tilting your head in various angles to see if you could catch a glimpse on who the mysterious superhero is, but the barrier remains an obstruction to your view.

“well then, i… uh… thank you for your service.” he covers up the silence with another laugh and you join in, re-adjusting his pants and belt before turning his back towards you and heading out the booth. “i’ll try not to be late next time.”

© nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[zylev-blog]

Danny and Sam were enjoying a date out in Metropolis when it happened. Superman had been mind controlled again, and was taking hostages. Neither Danny or Sam were worried, and were amongst the only people not running for their lives. They just sat outside the cafe, sipping their coffee and eating their food. As the ground began to rumble, they simply picked their coffee cups and held them in their hands to not spill the coffee within.

“So then Tucker says, ‘not my pda!’” Danny finishes, laughing along with Sam.

“I swear, he loves that thing more than life!” Sam laughs.

That’s when they heard it. The sunlight outside got a shade darker, and Sam and Danny turned to see the outline of Superman hovering in front of them. They both glanced at him, then at each other.

With a loud sigh, Danny out down his coffee. “Can you move a little to the left, Superman? You’re blocking the sunlight.”

Without warning, Superman reached out and grabbed Sam, who was closer to him. Sam grunted out in surprise as she was lifted into the air by her neck. Danny looked unconcerned.

“Seriously?” Sam asked, gesturing at Superman. “You’re going to ruin my necklace.”

“I don’t think he’s worried about your necklace, babe.” Danny leaned against the table, watching the encounter.

“Well, he should be!” Sam exclaimed. “I paid good money for it!”

He rolled his eyes. “You’re impossible. We can just buy you another one once he stops choking you.”

“It’s not really like he’s going to get anywhere.” Sam agreed.

Superman seemed to take offense to this. His grip on her neck tightened, and while Sam’s face did flush red, she wasn’t gasping for breath or having her neck snapped.

“You remember the other day when I said Black Canary could strangle me and I’d be happy about it?” Sam asked, her voice a little breathless.

“Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow, wondering where she as going with this.

“I like Superman choking me better. He would probably be better at it than a human.” Sam grinned at the Kryptonian.

“Shouldn’t he at least buy you dinner first?” He asked.

“You know, most boyfriends don’t talk so freely about their girlfriends being choked by other guys.” Sam pointed out.

“You’re right.” He agreed.

“But this is getting kinda weird. Superman, do you mind letting me go? This isn’t really working for me anymore.” Sam pointed to the ground.

A large crowd had started to gather around them. Some looked horrified, while others looked curious. Curious at Sam, who hadn’t died yet. Superman made no moves to remove his hand from her neck.

“Hey babe?” Sam asked.

“Yeah?” He took another sip of his coffee, completely calm.

“Can you record me beating up Superman so we can send it to your sister?”

“Why her?” He tilted his head.

“Little sister.” Sam clarified.

“Ohh. Yeah, sure, she’d love that.” He took a second and pulled his phone out—a latest WayneTech model. “Go for it.”

Sam wrapped her hand around Superman’s, and with an audible snap, broke his hand and pulled it off of her neck. Superman gasped in pain, but Sam wasn’t done yet. She proceeded to judo flip him and send him crashing to the Earth while she continued to hover in the air. She clapped her hands together and cracked her knuckles.

“This is going to be fun.” Sam grinned wickedly.

“You know, I could just touch his temple and cure him of the mind control.” He offered, but continued to record Sam.

“Don’t spoil my fun.” Sam flipped him off, then dove towards the ground. She kicked Superman in the nuts, then kneed him in the face hard enough to draw blood. She punched him a few more times until he fell unconscious.

Danny got up and stopped the recording. He walked over to his girlfriend and looked at the unconscious Superman. He bent over the man and pressed a finger to the man’s temple. Blue power briefly illuminated Superman’s skin, but it was gone as quickly as it came.

“You’re going to cause trouble for us.” He chastised her.

“But you love it.” Sam took his hand. “Let’s go home.”

She flew into the air first, but Danny took another second to dig into his wallet, leaving a $20 bill on the table they were sitting at. He then flew into the air after Sam, chasing her all the way to Amity Park.

—————

Six months later, and Danny and Sam were on another outing in Gotham when they were interrupted by Batman. They pulled a chair up for him, and eventually the man took it. They ordered him a coffee and a bagel.

“So, what brings you here?” Danny asked casually.

“How did you defeat Superman?” Batman asked, straight to the point.

“Huh?” Sam asked. “When did we do that?”

“Six months ago.” Batman responded.

“Ohh, wait— remember the day we went to Metropolis?” He hummed.

“Oh. I already forgot about that. Superman’s not pressing charges, is he?” Sam asked. “I do have a good lawyer, he’s just an asshole to deal with.”

“No, he is not pressing charges.” Batman grunted.

“Then what’s this about?” He asked, tilting his head.

Without answering, Batman opened a box on his lap. At once, the kryptonite took effect of both Sam and Danny, making their skin turn green and to writhe in pain. Just as Danny was about to take the box from Batman by force, the man had closed the lid and tucked it away.

“I had my suspicions.” Batman said, as if that explained everything. “So how did two more Kryptonians land on Earth when the planet was destroyed thirty years ago?”

[r3ynah]

Danny is mothering

Mothering two kids was not easy Danny said based from experience, especially if one is a super-villain, and one is a hero. maybe this was fate coming to stab him in the back for becoming a vigilante, Oh well he'll just support and love them, afterall that was his only goal for his children.

he didn't care if Dan hurt people, as long as he's not killing them, he was glad and delighted if ever Dan asks his help, for his plans or weapon making, Dan always had his big pride so it rarely comes when he came asking for help on something.

he didn't care if Dani used/borrowed his powers all she likes, afterall she needs her support, no one can become a great hero without help from others and Dani was a stubborn one, that's for sure.

In short Danny liked bonding with his kids.

He only ever puts his foot down whenever Dan and Dani fights, he was not happy with this afterall, he didn't want his babies to fight and destroy everything in their paths.

They mostly fight privately but this fight was somewhat serious that they both needed to throw hands right here right now. in the middle of Metropolis for all the city's they can fight at.

Danny watched his kids strangle and punch eachother while also crashing into buildings damn that's going to be expensive, sighing in disappointment, he floated down towards them and when he was close enough grabbed their shoulders then pushed them apart, making them stumble and pause in the air.

"No. no fighting" was all Danny said before going invisible, patted his children's heads and teleported away, leaving a now crying Dani who was clinging and apologizing to Dan, who had no choice and awkwardly patted his older sister's back, while also apologizing.

No batman, you didn't need to shoot them with kryptonite, their not even kryptonians, put that away. and comfort superman who's hyperventilating in the corner.

[karmavongrim]

Dear Father fanfic idea

DC x DP crossover fanfiction

Fanfic idea of Danny adopting everyone. He’s worse than Batman since he does it 200% deliberately with no age nor race restriction.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Absolutely fucking not.”

Yeah, nope. No way in hell was he, John mother-fucking Constantine going to let this happen. Only over his dead body, which might actually be the case by the end of the bloody day if they couldn’t come up with something else other than that. And he wasn’t going to change his mind no matter how much the kid currently gallivanting as a demi-god whined. Wasn’t that a news when he found out several months ago.

“Come on Constans, we both know he wouldn’t mind. Besides what else can we do, we’ve tried everything.” Captain Marvel pleaded with the older man as he gestured their surroundings.

It couldn’t be described as anything else other than apocalyptic. A complete fucking shitshow.

Apparently a prophecy of some kind came to fruition right under their bloody noses and they were left grasping straws to try and stop the end of the world from happening. If only-

“Call him or I’ll call him John! Your choice.” Pressed Marvel who was getting fed up with the magician’s nonsense but he wasn’t bugging, no siree!

“Shut up, we don’t need his help! Just let me-” John yelled while buried head first in his spell book, desperately trying to find away that didn’t require him to relinquish the last few pits of his shabby dignity. Or what was left of it anyways. But Marvel was having non of it.

“Nope, that’s it! I’m making the call!” The red glad man shouted over the blonde brit and pulled out his personal phone which looked like it had been pulled strait out of a sci-fi movie.

This caused John to lunge at Marvel who in return floated away out of his reach.

“Are you daft? I’ll never hear the end of it so don’t even- Hey! Don’t you dare, I swear-!” They were quickly interrupted by a black looming silhouette quickly approaching them.

“I hope that you two have come up with something since you’re able to play around like this.” Batman demanded in gruff manner, man looking worse for wear just like the rest of them. Marvel swiftly positioned the dark one between him and his would-be assailant.

“Oh we did have a solution from the very start but someone thinks that we don’t need any help. His poor ego wouldn’t be able to handle it.” He told as he threw a look over his makeshift barrier’s shoulder.

“Shut your cakehole.” John hissed but was reluctantly put in place by a hard glare from mister darker and gloomier who turned to the floating magic-user.

“What is this solution exactly? Help from who or what?” At his inquiry the boy-man hero couldn’t help but beam when he began to explain what, or rather who he had in mind.

“Well I was thinking calling our-” But he was rudely cut in before he could get far.

“We aren’t calling anybody because we don’t need his help! We can take care of this on our own!” Batman turned back to the blond and was clearly at the end of his patience.

“We are running on borrowed time Constantine, if there is any chance to for us to stop this then we should take it since we don’t have any other options left.”

The two began to argue so heatedly that they didn’t pay attention to Marvel speed dialing the number he kept close to his heart. With a dopey grin he bounced on his heels while he waited for the other side to answer. After just two rings the line connected.

“Hi kid! What are you calling in for, did you get out of work already?” A jovial, baritone voice rang out which instantly relaxed the kid-not-kid hero. The all-composing feeling of warmth, protection and safety could almost be felt through the phone which never failed to make him feel comfortable and at peace.

“Hi dad! No, I’m still at work and we kinda shorta need your help. Badly.”

He could near feel the change in his father’s mood and he definitely heard it in his voice.

“What do you need? Where are you?” Came the rapid questioning. His smile never left as he thought how dad always went strait to business when it came to his family and friends. Always ready to help no matter what or why.

“Well, apparently the apocalypse is happening and we have no idea how to stop it… Can you help us? Please?” He tentatively asked as he glanced back at the bickering duo. Sometimes he asked himself if he really was the only secret child there.

“Ha ha, no need to beg, let alone ask. I’ll be there in a jiffy once I know where you guys are. Just try and hang in there kid.” Voice on the other side commented in lighter tone.

Marvel let out a sigh. He knew that everything would be okay after all.

“Thanks dad. We are currently stuck on Metropolis in it’s central, it’s a complete mess in here.”

“Everything will be fine. See you soon.” The voice chuckled and cut the call.

Yes, everything would be just fine. He turned to call out to the idiots who looked to be near ripping each other a new one.

“You two can stop now, he’s already on his way!”

He had to wince at the speed which the blonde turned his head to stare at him. Then came the familiar cursing.

“Fucking shite!”

He merely rolled his eyes and crossed his arms in irritation. He glared at the magician.

“Seriously, what’s your problem? It doesn’t have to be this difficult you know.”

Before John could comment, Batman pushed pass and stalked up to Marvel.

“Who did you call?”

He couldn’t say much before more of their fellow heroes started to trickle in. Flash no surprise being the first.

“Hope you got something up your utility belt Bats, we can’t take this much longer.” Pleaded the red speedster. He was joined by Green Lantern carrying injured Superman and ouch did he look roughened up.

“Have to agree with Flashpoint. Were running out of juice fast, and even Big Blue is out cold.”

Marvel looked at the others coming in. Martian Manhunter, Zatara, Wonder Woman, Black Canary and even Doctor Fate was there, none of them looking any better.

“Well, I’m glad to announce that help is on their way so we can all sit back and relax for a bit. This will be over in no time.” He declared brightly.

The others goggled at him like he made the most outlandish statement in all of history, minus Constantine who has decided to use this small window of calm to drown his headache in his flask while he still can.

“What the hell are you on about? What help? Who could possibly help with this!” Flash yelled out the question in everybodies mind.

“I would like to known this too finally.” Batman demanded this as well.

Seeing everybody hanging onto his up coming explanation he smirked at John who gave him oh-so-eloquently middle finder in retaliation. Well to bad, he would have to just deal with it, the big baby.

“Oh nobody too important, just the most powerful and influential being in all multiverse. Some of you might know him by his monikers like the First Champion, the Balancer, the High King and the Great One.” He said flippantly as he pretended to check his nails, trying his absolute best to hid his smug smile when he noticed Zatara and Fate going rigid and pale.

Zatara near stumbled thanks to his shaking knees. He took couple faltering steps towards the Champion of Magic. His expression mix of reverence and fear as started to whisper as if dreading that someone or something might hear him if he spoke too loudly.

“Y-You couldn’t possibly mean King-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence for they all felt the change in the air, in the ground.

He has arrived.

Time came to a crawl, the world slowed it’s movements in face of approaching force. It quaked, it trembled, it slithered. Leak becoming a downpour, a tear in reality of sickly green opened above the group, high out of reach. What little light still had remained in the hellish landscape around them were drained as if all the world’s shadow congregated around the opening to greet its master like a deprived servant. Then a figure of black and white caped in light seemingly holy, descended from it. Even from afar they could distinguish their towering form who’s muscles failed to hide under its full-body armor. Their mountainous presence becomes more and more apparent the closer they came. What they thought as wings of pure and white was actually a cape of moving light.

Blazing green eyes as that of the tear gazed upon them from under their moonlight hair, which coupled with the iron grown of flames created figures of shadow dancing across their hardened features as if to praise their beholder’s glory.

Zatara had already collapsed on the ground in utter disbelieve. All the myths and legends were true all along.

“King Phantom.” He spoke in awe and bowed before the king as did equally shocked Doctor Fate.

“Hi dad!” Marvel yelled and dragged the laughing magician by his coat to greet their new arrival.

All of their associates looked between the clear powerhouse of a being and their red heavy hitter in utter incredulity at the revelation. Zatara and Fate near had a heart attack at the way their magical colleague addressed the mythical presence. Marvel had a father? And this horrifying existence was it? What sent them reeling even more was how the king’s responded.

With his arms stretched he lowered himself fully to gather the two smaller men in his embrace.

“Kids! Boy, when you said that you needed help bad I think you might have underestimated a tiny bit.” He joked with a toothy smile as he moved to get a better look at his more-or-less willing captees of his affection. His expression softened even more at the face of Constantine, not the others could see.

“John, it’s so good to see you as well.” He said softly and ruffled both of their hairs, eliciting a laugh from his youngest and indignant pout from his fourth oldest who tried to swat the offending hand away.

“Whatever.” John growled but Phantom didn’t mind since he could see the blush caking his scratched up cheeks.

Now this drew his attention, both of his boys were in horrendous shape and he would do something about it after his job was completed. Looking at the blood willed sky no longer colored by his green and the burning wreckage that is this dimensions earth, he knew he didn’t have much time.

“I suppose we should get this over with then. You two better get back to the Keep after this, understood.” He stated and then was gone just like that.

Now that the oppressive feeling of death and power has left along with the godly being, every single one of the heroes present turned to the two for explanation. Marvel send a pleading look towards his brother, but John pointedly turned away and began to nurse his briefly forgotten drink which was now empty, damn you dad.

Discreetly gulping his nerves down he twirled to face his peers.

“Okay, let’s start with one question at a time please.”

This caused the floodgates to open and Zatara practically jumped him in his feverishness.

“You are a son of King Phantom? The King Phantom? I thought he was nothing more than a myth! A legend told through out several histories!”

As Marvel was trying to dislodge the man he was approached by Doctor Fate.

“I too held the believe that he was nothing more than a story to strike fear onto the forces of evil and to aspire heroes of both old and new. To think he was real this entire time.” He mused, and before Marvel could say anything, Flash barged in as well.

“And what about you John? This might be the first time I’ve seen any otherworldly being be happy to see you.” He pointed at the man who chose to wisely stay far behind.

“Fuck you too!” Shouts the offended man from the back. Even if it’s true doesn’t make it any less rude. And oh look here comes Batman.

“Enough! Marvel, explain.” He demands as he moves effortlessly to the front of the pack.

“Well… you see-” Marvel stammers as he tries under the pressure to come up with something to say but was thankfully saved by the sky shifting again.

As quick as a snap the red sky was returned to its blue color, signaling the King’s victory over his enemy. Marvel smiled widely and even John couldn’t stop a heavy sigh of relieve from escaping his mouth. Good old dad, always up to any task he comes across.

“Incredible.” Wonder Woman gasped, even Lantern had to give an impressed eyebrow at the instant change in atmosphere. And while everyone was distracted by his dad’s handiwork, Marvel shimmied his way to the grumpy magician who was in progress of making his getaway.

“I think we should continue this some other time, there’s a lot of cleaning up to do and me and my bro need to do a little house call. So bye!” He called out with a wave as he was crabbed and transported to their destination before anyone could stop them.

Others could do more than blink as Batman stewed in his place. In Lantern’s arms Superman began to stir.

“H-huh, what did I miss?”

[cardierreh15]

Believer

To honor our Lovely Henry returning to his role as Superman, I’ve decided to make a series! I hope you all enjoy the first chapter!

**I do not give anyone permission to repost or copy my work!!!

Warnings 18+: Cursing , Mention of Death , Just Superman giving Batman a Taste of his own medicine lol That’s it :)

Description: Cardi learns something new about her favorite animal.

Word Count: undetermined

He is Risen!

2 Months Ago

‘Good Morning Manny!’ She smiled at the cashier as she placed her energy drink on the counter.

‘Good Morning Miss James. Will this be all for you?’ The older male asked as he lifted the the aluminum can towards the bright laser.

‘Oh!—‘ she damn near forgot, but before she could speak, there was commotion by the door. Sounds of wrinkled bags and frantic footsteps filled the air around them. Two kids, snatching up a few bags of chips and dipping out of the door.

‘HEY! HEY!’ Manny shouted but by the time they could hear him, they were out the door. ‘Goddammit! Fuckin’ kids.’ He hissed in frustration as he placed his hands on the counter. ‘No home training.’ He grumbled.

Her eyebrows pulled together in worry. She had been coming to Manny’s convenient store for about a month and a half, since she moved closer towards the city… closer towards her job. She felt for him. And it seem as since their savior had been gone, everyone had been running a muck!

She sighed and pressed her lips together, ‘Hey… just— Listen, just add it on my bill for today. They only took about two or three bags so… it’s fine.’ The woman pulled out her wallet, getting ready to pay for her things.

‘What? No, Miss. James. It was only teenagers being teenagers. It ain’t no big deal—‘

‘I insist—‘ and she pulled out a hundred dollar bill. ‘You shouldn’t have to suffer at other’s expense.’ She placed the thin yet, valuable piece of paper on the wooden counter and slid it beneath the glass. ‘Take care Manny. And I will see you soon.’

All the man could do was stare down at the hundred dollar bill as she left. This was enough proof for him, men are still good.

Cardierre was walking out of the door, popping open her energy drink as she shuffled her keys around to find her remote for her car. Her attention was brought towards the laughing kids. Clenching her jaw she wanted to go over there and have a word with them but I’m just a mere few seconds, one of the boys started frantically hitting the other, pointing up at the sky. ‘Bro… look at that!’

Intrigued by curiosity, she walked back over to where the boys stood. And it had seem as if air was snatched out of her lungs. Her mouth slightly gaped so some form air could pass through her.

A being— just levitating in the air. He was too far to see with the naked eye but she was more than sure that the man with the red cape, was alive.

She didn’t know if she should be scared, or inspired! After all, when he died— it was the last story that she did write. She just couldn’t take her eyes off of him— none of them could! They were just waiting for something to happen.

‘Hey! What’s going on out here!’ Manny called out as he walked towards the three of them. He looked up at the sky, ‘Dear God! Is that?’

The shudder that left Cardierre’s chest definitely told the men around her that she wasn’t feeling positive about who that man was in the sky. She had to find if it was him… and if it was, how’d he come back! ‘I don’t know. I have to go. Kids! Stay out of trouble will ya?’ And she rushed back over to her car.

***

‘C’mooon, C’MON! MOVE!’ She screamed at the stand still traffic before her. Everyone was too busy staring at the being floating in the sky to care about traffic laws. ‘Fuck this.’ She swerved onto the curb, parking her car and frantically got out. As she was locking her car, a loud CRASH and BOOM erupted in the air. It sure did capture everyone’s attention. And before her smart little brain could tell her “do not go.” Her feet took off in a hurry!

Making it to the memorial, the police had already set up a perimeter and she, a few other people, and some reporters were there watching the being fight those who served the same duty. Her small hands rest on the barricades as her eyes watched the scene unfold before her in shock. It was him. He was alive — in the flesh!

Cardierre was mesmerized! She had never seen him this close before… well— perhaps it was a good thing that was the case. When his eyes glowed bright red, and lasers exuded from them onto the one known as Cyborg, she along with the rest of the crowd, covered their eyes at the sudden brightness!

Once he made his way through the ones who swore to protect this world, her heart had sunk into her gut as he approached the dark knight.

His eyes glowed crimson red once again and she braced herself for the brightness and violence that was to come next.

With great force, those bright beams of firey death knocked the Dark Knight right into a patrol car. The sound of Batman’s pain and agony floated around in the air. This caused Cardi’s hands to grip that barricade so tight, she felt as if her knuckles were to pop out of her flesh.

And once again, the God lit the Dark Knight up. This time, she didn’t take her eyes off of him. What was he doing?! Why was he acting like this?! Her eyes burned with tears as she felt as if her chest was going to explode.

‘STOP! STOP IT!’

Her words had seem to capture his attention. His fiery eyes had been distinguished and he was looking in her direction. It had seem as if all the chatter around her had dissipated in thin air. Everyone’s eyes were on her— and then they’d glance back over at The God … gauging his reaction.

She regretted this. She felt as if she was staring death in it’s face. And he was staring back saying,

Girl, you have no idea — who you’re fucking with.

Sure, at first his glare felt as if someone was stacking cement blocks on top of her face. But within the next few seconds, his face formed into something soft. It was a look of familiarity— as if he saw her before or knew her. But he wouldn’t dare come close. The hairs beneath her sleeves stood up and she felt a chill sliver down her spine. She held her breath, not taking her eyes off of him … for it may be the last time she ever looked at something. And before anyone of them in the crowd knew it, he had flew into the distance- leaving behind a cool gust of wind behind him.

The crowd around her remained quiet, either staring at the destruction around them that Superman had created, or her.

‘What?’

Currently

She was lost in thought, staring at the beautiful creatures of the ocean, her favorites— Jellyfishes.

‘Uh-Oh, here she is again!’ A familiar yet, annoying voice creeped behind her, ‘Watching those little jellies float around on her computer screen. Sheesh, Cardi… is that all you do?’

Letting out an annoyed sigh, with a gentle roll of her pretty brown eyes, she spun around in her office chair with a fake smile, ‘I’d rather do this than look desperate Steve.’ She crossed one leg over the other, lacing her fingers together to rest them on her knee.

Steve looked a little startled by this remark, he glanced to the side, ‘Oh whatever. You declined on that concert I asked you about and now I’m the one being called desperate… how does that work?’

The fake smile had turned into something more annoyed this time, ‘You asked every female in the department before you came and asked me one more time… how is that not?’

Silence loomed in the air around them. Until the sound of muffled laughter filled in that uneasiness.

‘Sure, whatever— hey! Harry Styles is playing tonight—‘ Steve continued.

Cardi’s head had fallen to the side, her eyes narrowed in frustration. Her lips pursed together hard, keeping her from lashing out and embarrassing him.

‘Wha? You don’t like Harry Styles?’ He asked.

‘Oh, I love Harry Styles. But I wouldn’t want to bore you with my love for Jellyfishes.’ She said sarcastically as she spun back around to face her computer.

She could hear whispers behind her for a short moment before he walked away.

The sounds of paper printing, keyboard typing, phones ringing and conversation filled the room once again. They’d never left but whenever Steve was around, he sure did make everything about himself.

She was once again, watching those pretty neon colored Jellies float around her screen, mesmerized like a child at the zoo.

‘Did you know that the Portuguese Man-Of-War is not a jellyfish?’ A deep, soothing voice spoke.

Cardi’s head popped up, being that the Man-Of-War was one of Cardi’s favorite invertebrates… she was intrigued. ‘Of course it is! I mean… have you seen that thing?’ She scoffed and turned her attention towards him.

Clark was standing big and tall by her cubicle. He had this charming smirk on his face, the one that told her that he knew what he was talking about. ‘Well, in defense it does in fact look like a Sea Jelly. But it isn’t a true Jellyfish.’

‘Really? How’s so?’ Cardi asked, her gaze never faltering from his.

Their eyes met. It was like he was staring into her soul… just like that same day he magically appeared back on Earth. The day that neither one of them shall ever forget. ‘Have you ever heard of a siphonophore?’

The brown skinned woman thought for a moment, trying to piece this together before he could, ‘I mean— I think I have. But what does that have to do with this Jellyfish?’ She picked up her pen and placed it between her teeth as she prepared to listen.

‘I’m getting there,’ he snickered before continuing, ‘A Siphonophore is a animal that is created by a colony of other organisms. The organisms work in sync and they all alive! And not to mention, their tentacles can grow to be 165 ft long!’

Cardierre’s mouth fell slightly, with her pen falling right into her lap. She loved learning new facts but, the fact that she and Clark hadn’t had a real conversation since she started working here… made her want to know more about him.

‘What?’ He asked, clearing his throat and stood up straight.

She didn’t say a word.

‘Alright, alright—‘ he threw his hands up in defense, ‘Call me a nerd OK? But you tend to leave your Netflix documentaries on while you go to the restroom.’

She choked out a laugh, ‘Yeah, sure! I think I may have found the office’s Nerdy boy over here.’ She continued out her laugh.

‘If that’s the case you’re the Nerdy Girl then.’ And he chimed in with his hearty laugh.

Once the two recovered from their moment of shared bliss, she stared at him for a bit. She couldn’t get over the fact that she knew she saw him before. But that wasn’t all. She was noticing a lot of things about him. His gorgeous smile and those deep blue hues that told many stories behind them. She had to say, that was her favorite part about him. ‘You have blue eyes.’

Clark paused for a moment before he snapped back into reality himself, ‘Oh— I haven’t noticed,’ he chuckled, ‘Yeah. I do.’

Cardi giggled again before staring a bit longer, ‘They’re .. they’re pretty.’ Her face heated up with a vengeance, and her dimples pierced those pretty brown cheeks of hers.

He gave her a gentle nod, ‘Thank you. But I think… your eyes are … prettier.’ He paused for a second.

Her eyebrows grew as the heat now rushed down to her neck, shoulders and chest. She was going to say something, ‘A-‘

‘Not that… I’m flirting with you or… anything just— telling you that… you have gorgeous eyes.’ Her brown eyes were like honey in their purest form. And as he looked into them more, he could see himself doing backstrokes in them. Sinking into them as if he had cemented ankles.

She looked up at him, her lips pressed together tight as she tried to fight the smile that ached to be on her face. Until she just couldn’t hide it any longer, ‘Thanks, Clark.’ And she looked down at some papers that she was working on earlier.

‘Anytime.’ He said back softy.

The moment was crippled by the sound of loud sirens blaring down the street. Cardierre’s head popped back up again, pushing her office chair back and walking vigorously over to the larger than life windows, ‘Sheesh! What are these people up to now?!’ Clark and A few others gathered next to her. They all were quick enough to catch 3 fire trucks and about 6 police squad cars racing on by.

‘Aliens gone mad again? Bank robbers? Can never really tell with this world we live in.’ Steve grumbled next to her. Clearly irritated with his voice, she looked behind her to see if her new friend was around but… it had seem as if he’d never came to the window at all. In fact, his cubicle was in the same shape he’d left it when they rushed to the window! She couldn’t shake how strange that was. Perhaps he had to go to the restroom?

Before she could ponder on it any longer, the sound of a boom rattled the glass windows. Her eyes twinkled in delight as her hands pressed flat against the glass; readying herself for this miracle!

The red and blue raced past them in a blur. Unable to truly capture with the human eye. A huge grin curled on her lips, and tears of pure joy filled her eyes.

This is where he belonged. This was his world.

Hope… was home.

[evandarya]

Prompt fill from the Discord server. This one is courtesy of @tourettesdog

Prompt where Danny keeps showing up like a stray cat at various hero's houses. He just comes and goes and they never know when he'll show up next. He's just this like pseudo-adopted child who will come over for dinner, crash on the couch, and he's gone by morning. No amount of research will tell them who he is past the limited information he's given them

The various heroes are unaware that his stray cat range wanders so far until someone mentions him at a JL meeting and all hell breaks loose.

There's eventually an intervention

Stray Cat Danny

Clark had just got home when he noticed the heartbeat on the fire escape two floors above him. As far as he knew, that apartment was empty, so it couldn't be the residents going out for a smoke. It was weird, very strange, and not his business.

He tried to leave it alone, but the heartbeat stayed on the fire escape for a few hours. Every now and again Clark would hear whoever it was shift, but other than that they stayed quiet. Again, weird, but not his business.

Until it started to snow right when Clark was about to start dinner.

He was just going to make sure whoever it was had somewhere warm to stay. Maybe direct them to a shelter. Clark opened the window and looked up, there was a dark bundle, worryingly still, on the fire escape.

"Excuse me?" Clark called. The bundle shifted but whoever it is didn't respond. Clark grumbled and made his way up to them, squatting down a few feet away.

"Are you alright?"

The bundle shifted, revealing one blue eye and a tuft of back hair.

"''m fine" a young male voice answered. The blue eye closed.

"You know it's going to snow tonight. I'm sure you'd be more comfortable in a shelter than on a fire escape."

"They're full." The boy answered. "All both of them."

Only two shelters for all of Metropolis? That can't be right. Clark looked up to the sky, the snow was starting to come down and he could swear it had gotten colder since he'd been out here. He couldn't leave the kid out here to freeze.

"How about you stay the night at my place? My couch is pretty comfortable, and I'm making beef stew for dinner, Ma's recipe." He let a bit of his Kansas accent show through. Hoping the country accent would put the boy more at ease. He was watching him now with both eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Did your Ma ever teach you about stranger danger?" The kid asked.

"Not exactly. She taught me to help people out if they need it. Did your Ma teach you stranger danger?"

"No," the boy said, "my mom taught me to put a full-grown man on the ground if I needed to."

That surprised Clark into laughing. "Well, you won't need to with me. What do you say you come inside?"

The boy watched him for another second before shivering violently and glaring at the sky.

"Yeah, alright. Just one night."

"I'm Clark, by the way," Clark said as he closed the window behind the kid.

"Danny." The kid said. He was rooted to the spot just a few steps into the apartment, eyes scanning the room.

"It's nice to meet you, Danny." Clark held out his hand to shake, but Danny didn't take it. After an awkward second Clark cleared his throat. "Uh. The stew is going to be a little while. You're welcome to the laundry and shower if you need it." Danny was pretty clean, but there was visible dirt on his face and clothes. "I might have some clothes my nephew forgot that you're welcome to." Dick was bigger than Danny for sure, but he was closer to Danny's size than Clark was.

Danny gave him a long look, before shrugging off his backpack. "Sure. Might as well."

Clark left to go get the clothes while Danny loaded some of his clothes and blankets in the washer. Once he presented the tee shirt and sweatpants Danny disappeared into the bathroom. When he reappeared he was scrubbed clean, his cheeks rosy either from the hot water or scrubbing.

Danny was even smaller than Clark was expecting. He was downright scrawny. Dick's shirt hung off Danny's shoulders, and Clark could clearly see his collarbones. This kid was not getting nearly enough to eat. Well, he was going to tonight if Clark had anything to say about it.

"The stew should be ready in about half an hour. Feel free to make yourself at home." Clark said. He expected Danny to sit on the couch and watch TV, but instead, Danny found his home office. it wasn't more than a desk with his work laptop on it and some of Clark's better pieces and awards framed and tacked to the wall above it.

"You're Clark Kent, the reporter?" Danny asked, eyes switching between the wall and Clark.

"That's me," Clark said. "You know my work?"

"I read your piece on metahuman and alien rights last year. It was good."

"Thanks. I really liked working on that piece."

"Did you always want to be a writer?"

"uh. No. When I was a kid I wanted to be an astronaut." Clark said, stirring the stew. Danny snorted. "What's funny?"

"Nothing," Danny said, taking a seat at the little kitchen table. "I wanted to be an astronaut, too."

"Yeah? You still could." Clark said.

"Nah. It's hard to be an astronaut without a high school diploma. What made you change to writing?"

"I went through a few different career paths before I landed on journalism."

"Do you like it?"

"I do. I like uncovering the truths people try to hide." Clark said. "You'd make a decent journalist, I'd think. Half of it is just asking the right questions."

Clark served up the stew into two bowls and brought them over to the table with some rolls and butter. "I don't have much in the way of drinks, is water okay?"

"Water would be great, thanks."

They ate in relative silence, Danny was too focused on his food to ask more questions. After they ate Danny nodded off on the couch almost as soon as he sat down. Clark couldn't bring himself to wake him up, so he just covered him with a blanket from the linen closet and headed to his own room.

Maybe in the morning he could make Danny pancakes or waffles and get him some new gloves and a jacket. The question was what to do after that? He didn't want to drop Danny off at a shelter, and taking him to the police would only destroy whatever trust he had gained with the boy. At the same time, he only had a one-bedroom apartment. He couldn't keep Danny here. Clark sighed. He'd have to talk to Danny in the morning and see what he wanted to do.

When Clark woke up he was greeted by the silence of the apartment and it took him a few minutes to figure out why that was wrong. There should be another heartbeat. Fearing the worst, Clark rushed into the living room to find it empty.

The blanket and clothes Danny had used had been neatly folded and placed on the back of the couch, along with a handwritten thank you note.

How did Danny leave without him hearing? Moreover, how'd he leave with the doors and windows still locked?