xxepherr

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐ I'LL FOLLOW THE SUN

summary — all these years later, you've finally found your soulmate. clark's first decision as an almost-bonded couple is to share a lunch break with you and discuss whether or not to accept the bond over an abnormally tall stack of pancakes.

pairings — clark kent x reader

pronouns — none

word count — 1910

note — part two in the 'here comes the sun' miniseries. it's a cute little soulmate au, masterlist and series information can be found here. can be read as a standalone though if you wish :)

THE CAFE SERVED ALL day breakfast. the first thing you had learnt about your soulmate was that he was an absolute sucker for an all day breakfast menu.

all you had said was 'i don't know what to get' when you sat down in a comfortable corner booth and the next thing you knew he had ordered a comically large stack of pancakes for the two of you to share. the original stack was four pancakes complete with fruit, syrup and ice cream, but for fifty cents an extra pancake, the stack was now nine tall and somehow not toppling.

he even turned the pancake stack so that the fruit smiley face on the top was facing you.

ignoring the waitress' lingering stare at how your wrists were bound together with gold, you slid a knife and fork towards you while clark picked up his own set. without a word, he cut the pancake stack directly down the middle, trying his best not to disturb the blueberry eyes, and set the half down on the spare plate the waitress had brought over. the fruit tumbled off both halves when he did so. you quickly put the fruit back on the wobbling stack as if it never happened.

"so . . ." you trailed off, "you grew up here?"

nodding, clark dug his knife back into his half of the pancakes to carve out a chunk with his free hand. on the way here he had briefly mentioned that "i'm not sure that i fully understand all this, i grew up in kansas" to which you assured him that you didn't either. the whole point of the bond was to learn it together with only the base facts to get you there.

he understood that here meant earth instead of the big city. "my cousin and i were supposed to land here together, but . . ." he cut himself off with a sigh like it pained him to mention. "sorry, long story," he shook his head, switching the knife to his fork to shove a mouthful of pancake into his mouth.

"it's okay," you gave him a warm smile, one that he could actually feel the heat off.

realising he didn't answer properly, clark waited until he swallowed to speak again. "my ma and pa are still in kansas, i grew up in smallville." his eyes lit up. "i'm actually supposed to go meet them next weekend if you wanna come with."

sitting together was so natural that it was hard to register you both had only known each other for half an hour. if it had been anyone else it would have felt rushed and ingenuine, but sitting here with your soulmate, you nodded without a second thought. "i'd love to," you breathed and then picked up your own fork to try the pancakes. they were fluffy and melted in your mouth. "fuck, these are good," you hummed in delight.

clark beamed. the silence that faded in was comforting, a warm buzz in your ears that tuned out the miscellaneous sounds of the cafe. it was slightly awkward to eat with only one hand but a wordless decision to bring the bond up after the pancakes had been mutually made. neither of you had eaten since breakfast and probably wouldn't until you clocked off before dinner — there was still plenty of time to discuss.

plus, the pancakes were super good. there was no way you were content with talking until after they were eaten.

CLARK finished his plate like it was no challenge whatsoever. you were technically considered an alien like him but you weren't blessed with whatever bottomless pit of a stomach he had. he finished off the rest of your half with a charming grin when you announced you were done.

"from what i understand," he said casually, setting his fork down on his empty plate. you picked at the few blueberries scattered on your own, rolling them in maple syrup before letting them dissolve on your tongue. "you're my soulmate because you're from the yellow sun that heals me . . .?" unsure and a little unconfident, it came out as more of a question than a statement.

"basically," you nodded. "my kind have watched over kryptonians since the beginning of time, but only one of us is chosen to be more involved in that every thousand years." you jingled your wrist, the bangles jangled in response. "that's us."

"but krypton's gone."

your expression fell. "we sadly could not intervene. there was no possible way for us to save your planet. you are the only survivor i know of . . . and i suppose your cousin."

clark rolled his eyes, "and her bad dog." you laughed quietly and he joined you — even though that dog was traumatising. "but," he cleared his throat, "seriously, if we're soulmates, why would anyone reject it?" he asked. his voice was quieter, scared at the possibility that you were going to reject the prophecy and leave him with a hole in his heart for the rest of his life. there was nothing in the way you were acting towards him that had him believing that, but he still couldn't help but picture it all the same.

"it was rejected three thousand years ago," you told him, picking up your napkin and wiping your mouth. there was nothing there, clean from where you had used a different napkin ten minutes ago, but it gave your hands something to do. "lia-kel from your planet rejected her soulmate from mine because she refused to settle down. she never liked staying with one person for too long. and that's only the most recent example.”

he was silent, the gears turning behind his eyes. “that sounds painful,” there was a gentle crack in his voice sliced painfully, the mere thought of rejecting something so special harsh on his heart.

you just shrugged like it didn’t matter. you agreed, no doubt about it, but there was still a chance that clark could turn around and reject you right now. for all these years you had been searching with the end goal of accepting him, he could destroy that before your very eyes.

and that was scary.

how were you going to live out the rest of your life after that?

"i assume so," you cleared your throat, lips pulling into a tight smile. you didn't really want to outright say it, but was sugarcoating an option when he held your life in his hands? "would you . . ." you took a breath, "reject . . . me?"

it was silly. you felt silly. the fork you were fiddling with clattered to the table and you cringed at the sound. things were going so well, what if it freaked him out to suddenly bring it up? god, you thought exasperatedly, i've fucked it up now.

clark's silence was biting. the golden band felt icy against your skin, the heat disappearing as you held your breath in anticipation. heartbreak was foreign and you didn't want to experience it now. or ever, really. hearing stories about what happened to those who got rejected had instilled the fear into you so deeply that it wired through every vein in your body, twisting and twirling into your heart's junction.

"how do i accept it?" clark finally said, interlocking your fingers of your bound wrists. his voice pitched up slightly and you could breathe again, fluid and steady. you were so lost in the fact that he was agreeing to accept the bond that he squeezed your hand and said your name, drawing you back to earth.

"sorry," you smiled sheepishly, but smiled nonetheless. the muscles in your face were beginning to ache again. "you're sure?"

"of course," clark hardly hesitated this time. you set down your fork and reached across the table for his other hand, and he took it carefully in his large grip. "you're my soulmate, why would i want anyone else?" he smiled, "we can work out everything else later."

"okay," you said slowly, trying to contain your excitement. you weirdly didn't feel nervous about the string of vows you knew would tie you together forever like you thought you would feel when this day would come. no, you felt alive, and even the air felt softer as it filled your lungs. "i'll say it first, and then you repeat after me, sound alright?"

"perfect," he nodded in response.

you squeezed his hands. "i accept that you are my soulmate, and i'll be there with you and for you until every star burns out of the sky." you could feel electric tingles scatter up your arms, ticking all the way up your fingers while you waited for clark to repeat them back to you. it was a one-way electric charge repelling against his skin, stuck in the palms of your hands until he could share it with you.

"i accept that you are my soulmate, and i'll be there with you and for you until every star burns out of the sky," there was no second thoughts as clark uttered it back without worry, no hitches or hesitations in his voice — nothing but sureness and trust in you, the bond, and the future.

a quiet gasp escaped you as the electric charge transferred from your hands to his, tingling from his fingers and up to his shoulders. he relaxed at the feeling of it, his body losing all remnants of hidden tension and succumbing to the gentleness of filling the void in his soul with another. the pieces fell perfectly into place, the remainder of a long-overdue puzzle, and the electricity subsided into a gentle simmer that felt like a warm blanket.

a few moments of shameless gazing, staring into each others eyes to find the buzzing souls beneath broken up by the waitress flitting over to the table to clang the empty plates together. giggles tumbled out of your mouths in perfect sync, cheeks tinted pink with a soft blush that only love could give.

"i suppose we should head back to work, huh?" clark flipped his wrist to check his watch. you both should've been back at work ten minutes ago.

the smile was impossible to rid. you liked this, simple, bonded together forever, but still looking forward to the passion you shared over the same career prospects. "yeah . . . i guess."

"how's dinner at mine sound?" he asked, standing up from his seat and sliding out of the booth.

"like a plan," you beamed, sliding out of the booth. only now did you realise the bangles had split apart as if they hadn't been holding you captive mere seconds ago. still, your hand migrated to his like they were still cuffed, and he enveloped yours like that was the place it was supposed to be. "can we get pizza? i hear metropolis pizza is a whole new level."

"done deal," clark nodded, the conversation so pleasingly domestic that it felt as if you had been in his life since the start. "is gotham pizza not good?"

you shivered at the thought. "it's horrific. the pizza places there are usually a front for crime so it's hit or miss on whether its actually good or not."

"oh . . ." clark trailed off awkwardly. "yeah, there's a nice place a block from here. i'll take you on the way home."

─── 𖦹 .✧˚｡taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @love-quinn @dinorawrss @tisilex @tocinohater @itzmeme @trulovekay @cielito--lindo @the-real-punk-rock @slowlyshycomputer

[xxepherr]

I love it and it’s amazing but babe, his eyes can’t meet yours, he’s blind

i’m very aware he’s blind but his eyes do still move. it was a common trait that he was constantly ‘looking’ at elektra whenever she was around but by looking i didn’t mean he could see :) just that his eyes followed

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐WOULDN'T IT BE NICE

summary — your boyfriends seem to be getting along a little better than they used to . . . and you use that to your advantage in getting frank to move in with you and matt.

pairings — matt murdock x reader, frank castle x reader, a liiiiittle fratt x reader

pronouns — none, but i’ve envisioned it as fem!reader

word count — 3024

note — works as a part 2 to this but can also be read as a standalone :)

PATIENCE IS A VIRTUE. if it was the one thing that dating both matt and frank had taught you, it was that patience and communication went hand in hand for all three of you to be in a good place at once.

if matt had a bad day, chances were he continued to be in one and let it affect everyone else if frank was at your apartment. frank was constantly having a bad day so it was a toss of the dice with him. if he was willing to speak, he usually chewed out matt for just breathing. frank being non-verbal in a bad mood either meant he wanted to kill someone or he wanted to be left alone; that was the safer option when you were all under the same roof. 

you wanted frank to move in. for the past three months you had been dropping subtle hints: asking frank to help pick out new furniture, mentioning to him that he could hang his clothes up in the closet where matt and your clothes hung instead of stuffing them in the bottom drawer of a dresser, repurposing the old bookshelf you found on a curbside cleanup to house his growing book collection . . . 

either he wasn’t catching on, you weren’t trying hard enough, or he was ignoring the signs like they might bite him. the place he had on the other side of the city was barren and cold, hauntingly familiar in a way that left him with his damning thoughts for too long. at least in this apartment, your home, he had you . . . and matt. he had conversation and love and attention and so, so, so much affection, something he didn’t have in his shoebox apartment elsewhere.

everything was perfect enough to accommodate for frank. there was enough room for you all to have your own space. even more recently, you’d convinced matt to go with you to get a slightly bigger bed. it was something you could’ve done on your own but you wanted the mattress to be perfect for his heightened senses, especially after it had taken months to find the last one. 

your plotting went noticed by him, it always did, but he chose not to speak it aloud. he noticed that the closet was wider when he came home from work one day, and that it had extra coathangers. he noticed that you were making larger portions of meals and encouraging frank to stay longer and later, sometimes for days at a time. but he never said a word.

. . . perhaps because he wanted frank to stay, too.

“MATT,” YOU CALLED OUT, dropping your keys into the dish by the door as you kicked off your shoes. the radio was playing gently from the other room, an old jazz song slightly staticky as it bounced off the walls. 

“mhm,” you heard him hum loudly. following his voice, you found him sitting on the floor with his back against the couch in the lounge room, his fingers dancing across his braille case notes at record speed. the radio sounded worse now, the static crawling through your ears and leaving scratches in its wake. 

“did, uh,” you gestured to the radio, “did you want me to tune that properly?”

matt shook his head. he tilted his head back to look up at you, eyes meeting yours. it made you smile every time because when he talked to anyone else, his eyes were usually downcast on the floor. not with you, rarely ever with you. “nah,” he waved off with his left hand, “needed it to focus.”

it made sense. the neon sign wasn’t glowing tonight, and it hadn’t been for the past week. frank had been pissed off and accidentally broke the electrical main to the building next door after a particularly long day at work, and you only knew about it because you had been home when the sign went dead. matt didn’t seem to question it, but you knew the humming neon acted like white noise for him. apparently, radio static did the same thing.

he finished the sentence he was reading before setting all his work up on the glass coffee table out of the way. a lot of work had been put into this apartment to make it inhabitable for a stable relationship ( the first thing you had done upon moving in was instal heavy-duty curtains — there was a part of you absolutely thrilled that frank had killed the sign ) and that first step had been the coffee table. sure, matt lived a minimalist life as a blind man, but how he didn’t have a coffee table was probably his biggest red flag. you’d solved that problem when you came home one night with the table from your old apartment.

“your heartbeat is through the roof,” matt said gently, holding his hand out towards you. you slipped your hand into his and let him pull you down to the floor, straddling his lap with your head against his shoulder. “what’s up, sweetheart?”

sighing, you busied your fingers by fidgeting with the buttons on his shirt. “i’ve been thinking for a while now,” you weren’t even sure where to begin. was there a way to say it with enough sugarcoating that the possible rejection wouldn’t hurt so bad? “and you can totally say no, but that would kinda be upsetting, y’know? and—”

matt said your name sharply, cutting you off. it wasn’t harsh, just a soft reminder that if he didn’t cut you off you would end up rambling on and on without ever getting to the point. 

“i want frank to move in with us.”

the words came out too fast, so rushed that you stumbled over the end of the sentence. your heart was beating so fast that matt soothed his thumb against your skin in hopes of reversing it.

when he didn’t say anything, you rattled on. “i know you still aren’t one hundred percent with him and all that, but i love you both equally. and i can see you care about him . . . and that he cares about you, too.”

matt scoffed, “sure—”

“i’m serious!” you rolled your eyes. “i don’t even care if you constantly clash, i just want you both with me all the time . . . is that crazy to say?”

his expression softened. “no, it’s not crazy.” he paused for a moment. “does frank know you want him to move in?”

“not really,” you shook your head. “i mean, i’ve been dropping hints but i think he’s ignoring them. i just want him to move out of that shithole across town . . . at least to our shithole instead.”

matt didn’t miss a beat, “he broke the sign.”

caught off guard, you snorted out a laugh, “you knew?”

“of course i knew.”

silence swallowed you for a few minutes. you pressed your ear closer to his chest so that you could hear his own heart beating. it was calmer than yours for sure, but it didn’t sound relaxed. it was a little bit quicker the longer he trapped himself in thought. you were hoping it was the good kind of quicker.

“you would be happier if he moved in with us,” matt noted, and he didn’t have to feel you nod to know you agreed with that statement. 

“but would you be happier?”

would he? matt struggled to come to terms with it. he loved you, you took up the space of his entire heart, but in doing so, frank came with that. your heart mixed with frank’s and his own, and so loving you meant accepting that — and he eventually had, months and months ago now. but this was a whole new step. it had only been a recent improvement that he and frank didn’t argue while you were sleeping at ungodly hours of the morning. it was even more recent that frank had started going for a smoke two buildings down so that matt didn’t have to taste it as pungent through the window. and even more so, matt had changed the air conditioner’s temperature so that the apartment wasn’t freezing cold when frank was coming over. 

they had convinced themselves that they had done it all for you, but now that matt thought about it, he had been willing to make those changes because he wanted them, too. he hid behind the cover of saying he did it all for you, but now that he thought about it . . .

“ask him to move in,” was all matt could say, and it was all worth it with how wide your smile had become. 

"really?" you breathed out, relieved, as you cupped matt's face with your hands.

"careful," there was gentle tease in matt's tone. he leaned forward to capture your lips with his own for a moment. the tang of berries and yogurt was like honey on his tongue. "or i'll change my mind."

you didn't dare take the risk, instead excitedly sitting up on his lap and kissing him like he was the last source of oxygen on earth.

IT WAS A RARE occasion that your boyfriends were around at the same time. frank had the day off from the construction site in brooklyn, and matt had a few hours before his mid-morning court session.

you had been buzzing all morning. from the moment frank had texted saying he would be over in half an hour, you were immediately out of bed, much to matt's dismay. you were up, dressed, and had tamed your hair before matt had even registered that he was awake.

"frank?" he asked gruffly, and when you hummed affirmatively to tell him that he was coming over, he groaned and shoved his head back into the pillow.

you ignored him. instead, you threw ingredients together to make pancake mix, and in between batches you opened the curtains and tidied the lounge room from matt's case files and notes, taking them into the separate room where his desk was. the same room that had an armchair in the corner from when frank wanted to read.

the front door opened just as you set the pancakes in the oven to keep warm. quickly wiping the bench and putting the empty batter bowl in the sink, you turned around just as frank's boots dropped with a thud at the door.

just because he took them off to save from tracking dirt into the apartment didn't mean he was going to do it quietly. you swore you could feel matt roll his eyes behind the closed door to the bedroom.

frank walked around the corner and your smile increased tenfold. he dressed a little more casual today — a grey sweater and black jeans, and he draped his thick black coat over the couch on his way to you. there was no point in hanging it by the wall when you ended up stealing it anyway.

you noticed a different book in his hand today: the great gatsby by f. scott fitzgerald, and by the looks of it he had not long ago finished the picture of dorian gray from the page he had bookmarked early in the novel.

"smells good in here, sweetheart," frank's voice was deep, soothing on your ears as he hooked an arm around your waist and pulled you close. he ducked his head, his lips pressing to a tender spot on your neck. pressing a kiss to your skin, you laughed when he inhaled before pulling away. "and so do you, 'course."

you had no plans to leave the apartment today, and frank could tell. so the fact that you were wearing the perfume you wore out instead of the one you saved for every other day . . .

frank could tell you were up to something, but that smile that hadn't wiped off your lips was so intoxicating that he kept his mouth shut and let you drag him to the table.

"you haven't eaten, have you?" you asked as frank sat down at the head of the table. he shook his head. there was no food at his place except for boxes of muesli bars that he bought in bulk. "okay," you nodded, kissing the top of his head. "one sec."

skirting around the table, you knocked on the closed bedroom door. "matthew?" you called out, voice quiet knowing he would hear it, and two seconds later the door slid open.

his hair was wet, air drying for court later as droplets dripped onto the red lenses of his glasses. he rolled up the sleeves of the white button-up shirt he had on, the fabric evidently stretching around his muscles without his suit jacket and tie acting as a distraction.

matt's touch was delicate as he cupped your jaw and pressed a kiss to your lips. he tasted minty, but his face scrunched up slightly as he drew back. "you smell like smoke." his complaint was quiet, not wanting to alert frank to it, which you appreciated. there was no way matt was going to ruin the breakfast where you were going to ask frank to move in over something so petty.

considering you couldn't smell any traces of cigarettes, you knew matt was nitpicking. "behave," you giggled, pulling your sleeve over your hand to wipe the water off his lenses. his hands gravitated to your waist, slipping under your hoodie to caress your skin. his touch was cold from his wet hair, and that was your sign to get back to breakfast. "i made breakfast, come sit."

you watched closely as matt walked out doing the remaining few buttons of his shirt. he sat down at the table with a brief greeting that frank returned. your jaw dropped at the lack of petty arguments. shaking your head, you busied yourself in pulling the tray of pancakes out of the oven and setting them in the middle of the three of you at the table.

frank eyed the pancakes suspiciously. he glanced at matt, who gave nothing away, before his eyes flickered to you. you didn't look at him, simply threw two pancakes on his plate before doing the same to your own. matt had already grabbed two and was drowning them in syrup. "angel," he said slowly, nudging his foot against yours under the table.

you hummed, stabbing choc chips into your pancakes so that they melted. "mhm?"

"this is, uh, nice," he cleared his throat. matt set the syrup down in front of frank. "but . . ."

"but?" you frowned, tearing your eyes from the melting chocolate on your pancakes. matt had already shoved half of the first pancake in his mouth, you were certain now that he was keeping himself from saying anything by doing so.

his hand found yours, lacing your fingers together. his skin was rough, the callouses on his hand scratching against your palm. "you're quiet, angel. and you made pancakes."

damn him for being a good boyfriend. he knew you only made pancakes when you wanted to do something incredibly nice for him because he had once when you were clearing out his old family home that he used to make them for his kids when he wasn't overseas. that tied in with reading this morning's mannerisms from you and he could tell there was something you weren't sharing. your boyfriends were observant in their own ways, and frank paid attention to the little things and body language more than anything.

"they're really good, by the way," matt spoke up, his head lifting to look at you before he went back to his food.

"thanks," you mumbled, and frank squeezed your hand.

"talk to me, c'mon," he wasn't demanding, just quiet, soft, letting you know he was here to listen. that he was always here to listen.

"i want you to move in with us," you said it and it was like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. you've been waiting for this moment for so long that it barely felt real now.

frank blinked. slowly, his head swiveled to matt. "and you're okay with this, red?"

matt responded like a typical lawyer, "are you?"

the punisher's eyebrows raised slightly. you squeezed his hand and brought his attention back to you. "we've adjusted everything so there's enough room for all of us . . . i've made room for all your things and your books and your photos . . ." you sighed softly, "this can be your home, too."

"answer her, frank," matt commented, "her heart's gonna flatline." it was small, and frank looked back at him for a second to see that matt didn't seem to be opposing it in the slightest.

that you both wanted him to live here. that you both were ready to take that step in allowing him to live here permanently, to stash all his belongings and house photo memories of his family under this roof. to someday put those photos alongside the new memories, of his new family — not to replace them, but to coexist comfortably between the past and the present.

and all in all, it was an opportunity for a fresh start. he could move out of that awful brooklyn shoebox that smelt like mould and stormwater, and into a place that allowed him to breathe in life.

leaning forward in his chair, he met you in the middle with a lively kiss. "'course i'll move in, sweetheart," he mumbled against your lips, and your smile was starting to hurt from how constant it seemed to be.

matt's hand inched towards yours, taking it from across the table with a loving smile that told you everything that words didn't.

as you turned enthusiastically back to your pancakes, digging your knife and fork in while daydreaming about how the future would look from now on, you missed the look matt and frank shared: the look of mutual respect, but the small, half-smile of something else that rose alongside it.

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐ HERE COMES THE SUN

summary — after years of searching, you finally make the move to scouring the next city over — metropolis. it turns out all the answers you needed were hidden there all along.

pairings — clark kent x reader

pronouns — none

word count — 2374

note — part one in 'here comes the sun' miniseries. it's a cute little soulmate au, masterlist and series information can be found here. can be read as a standalone though if you wish :) i also hope this isn't boring i wanted to set the scene a little for the series but got carried away.

THE SUN WAS HOME, you had almost forgotten that after your stint working for the gotham gazette. gotham was cold, dark and full of despair — nothing like metropolis.

metropolis seemingly never saw a dark day. the nights weren't even as dark as gotham's nightfall, the stars making it all seem less lonely out in the big city. it was a warmth you had missed, those homely, golden rays melting into your skin and reminding you of the home you had long left behind in the search for this clark kent.

the best you could come up with was that he had been sent to crash into earth like a meteorite instead of exploding on krypton like everyone else all those years ago now. the sun never explained what happened like you had hoped because it was customary that you were only allowed to know about the prophecy, not who you're bonded too. so, over a decade later, you were still searching because the only information available to you was all you could find out for yourself.

it took a lot of learning, but you had somehow picked up a career in journalism. it paid well enough and it was the perfect cover for the reason you travelled so much. you'd bounced between so many states and their cities now that you had last ended up in gotham in a fit of desperation. you were beyond grateful that you didn't find clark there because that was dark and depressing and also lacked the sun that you knew he needed. the sun seemed so dim in gotham — it was hard to decipher why. you were just glad you were out of there now.

metropolis felt busier, but it was balanced out by how nice it was to not worry about being a victim of some fucked up crime. sure, there was crime in metropolis still, but it wasn't the joker or harley quinn 'accidentally' mowing down people when escaping the batman. you'd seen enough of that to last you a lifetime.

YOU swore you would never get used to the glasses. they were cute — you wouldn't settle for anything less — but they were uncomfortable. however, walking around without them wasn't really an option. your irises were mini suns, something definitely unnatural by human standards, and you had learnt that they accidentally blind people when you get too excited. it was all a front, much like the journalism was, but it would all be worth it when you finally found him.

still, you pushed them up with one hand while slipping in through the revolving front doors, clutching onto your bag with your other hand. it was relatively easy to transfer between newspaper outlets because you covered the weather. apparently there weren't a lot of journalists that specialised in meteorology in the newspaper scene rather than the broadcasting one, so years ago you had learnt all you could about it and went from there. it was better than political or entertainment journalism because then you had a constant eye on the world around you. you didn't want to waste anymore time than necessary in searching for you destined soulmate.

you tapped your fingers anxiously on the way up to the bullpen's floor in the elevator. perry had called you up already yesterday because something had come up and he wouldn't be at work today, and so he briefed you on everything you needed to know and answered any questions. he said that lois lane and jimmy olsen would help you find your desk and to bother them with extra questions if need be.

you preferred that phone call over having to sit in his office and wait around until he was ready. that's what every other outlet made you do; at the gotham gazette, you sat around in an uncomfortable chair for over half the day until their editor-in-chief finally acknowledged your existence. at least this time you could skip the eventual meeting and get straight to work.

the elevator doors finally opened and you filtered out into the bullpen. it was organised chaos: employees rushing around with stacks of paper, both blank and printed, others had cameras around their necks and were staring up at one of the tv's at some local news report.

okay, you thought, eyes scanning every inch of the bullpen. it was a habit you had developed over the years in your search. clark kent could be anyone, and even though kryptonians looked human, it just meant that you had to look closer. please be here. it was a long shot, the chances of finding him at your workplace was slim but it was still possible. you hoped soon enough that you would get lucky and he would be in america before you moved on to canada and then europe, but it would be even more ideal if he would just appear where you needed him to.

nothing was jumping out at you. no one was freakishly tall or sporting a golden bangle as far as you could currently see. it was wishful thinking at best, and the sun through the large glass panes dimmed ever so slightly, unnoticeably.

"how are you?" the voice was suddenly in front of you, and you blinked for a moment, shaking yourself away from your gloomy thoughts. the man before you sported a smile as he held his hand out. a camera was strung around his neck, the straps looking a little worn, but the lens looked as perfect as his bright smile. "name's jimmy olsen, and i'm supposed to show you around."

everything about him was so bright that you smiled blindingly at him. the room's light brightened a little more, but he didn't seem to take any notice. he was contagious in a way that you had missed in interactions since living in gotham. shaking his hand, you introduced yourself to him as if he didn't know and, even though the handshake went on a little too long, you didn't mind.

jimmy yapped the entire time. it wasn't the annoying kind, you actually enjoyed talking to someone that wasn't miserable, and you learnt a lot more than you probably needed to know.

the perky blonde was cat grant, the gossip columnist with the mean-girl-from-high-school persona. the pulitzer prize winner lois lane who was horrific at spelling but one of the world's best journalists all the same. ex-nfl player steve lombard who leveraged his background into working the sports column. there were a heap of others that he rambled on about as he walked you through the bullpen to your desk but it was all lost on you.

"and here's your desk," jimmy took a breath as he stopped by an empty desk on the opposite side of the room from where he said his was. it was empty, only showcasing a computer and a cluttered pen holder. "'s not much but you can make it yours."

"thank you so much," you replied politely, setting your bag down on your new desk.

jimmy shrugged, "if you need anything, you know where my desk is." he left with one last friendly smile, heading straight back to his own desk. you took a quick, unassuming note at how the how desk that wasn't currently occupied was the one close to lois', but from yours there was no way to see who it belonged to.

emptying your things, you placed your name plate from your previous workplaces on your desk and set your laptop and its weather charts beside it. it felt good here, the overall vibe of metropolis and the daily planet just felt right.

THE EMPTY DESK BELONGED to the tallest man you'd ever seen in your entire life. he was so tall that when he was sitting down you could see him over the top of his computer when he wasn't leaning back.

you remained at your desk. going out of your way to meet someone wasn't really your thing, and seeing that he seemingly was friends with jimmy, you assumed you would get introduced to him later.

like some sort of motivation booster just being in the warmth of metropolis, you had already completed two tasks before lunchtime, something that took you longer everywhere else. the weather forecast for the upcoming week was published with cute little images depicting the weather events — cat had walked past, peered over your shoulder, and told you it was a good idea to use cuter images than the ones you normally did — and you had also completed the first draft for a report on a bushfire that had occurred yesterday.

closing your eyes, you rubbed them from underneath your glasses to rid the glare from staring at a screen for too long without blinding every employee on this floor. "okay," you mumbled to yourself, standing up from the chair and fixing your glasses. jimmy had briefly mentioned that the breakroom on this floor was small, and that there was a bigger one in the offices downstairs, but you weren't too fussed. for now, coffee sounded good. you could get food later.

no one said anything to you as you moved through the bullpen to get to the small breakroom. you could see it was you got closer — nothing much, just a couch, coffee machine, fridge and a vending machine all in a room the size of your bathroom back at your apartment.

making it through the bullpen in one piece, you barely avoided running into a trolley full of mail and ducked into the breakroom. you had only just crossed the threshold when you were gasping and stumbling backwards. you were half convinced you had missed the door completely and run straight into the wall until you noticed that you had bumped into the freakishly tall man that had the desk across from jimmy and lois.

"gosh," he said immediately, pushing his glasses up his nose. you had to tilt your head to meet his eyes — seriously, he was inhumanly tall. you couldn't believe earth could create people like that. "i'm so— oh."

his eyes trailed downwards and your eyes followed him, fixing your own glasses as they came close to falling at the collision. and then you saw it. the golden bangle on your wrist latched onto his, handcuffing the two of you together without you even noticing. your breath caught and dizziness blurred. with an experimental tug, you couldn't deny what you were looking at. the golden bands didn't budge, it was real.

he was real.

all your years of searching led you right to his place of work. it was so many years you couldn't get back but you were here now. he was here. your eyes were stinging with unshed tears at just the thought.

thinking quickly, you pushed him back into the breakroom and out of sight from the bullpen. "you're . . ." you trailed off quietly, glancing back into his gorgeous blue eyes. everything about him was so intoxicating, and each passing second the gold against your skin felt like it was heating up because of it. you cleared your throat and hoped it would clear the fog from your brain. "clark kent."

just saying his name made you feel tingly. it ran up your spine and fluttered out through your limbs, stretching into the tips of your fingers.

he repeated your name like a whisper, his blinking infrequent as he took in everything that was you. his gaze was warm, the homely kind, one that drenched you in copious amounts of unbridled affection. you knew you would have searched your entire life just to experience this had you not found him just now. it would have been worth it all the same.

it was magnetic. your hands slipped into his like they were made to rest there, squeezing his hands and feeling him return it. "so . . ." clark cleared his throat this time, his eyes scanning behind you. it wasn't awkward but the situation on whether you were going to accept or reject the soulmate bond was, and it wasn't ideal in the work breakroom where anyone could walk in.

"do you, uh," you could feel your face heating up, your cheeks tinging pink as the confidence disappeared, melting much like you were under his fond gaze. "we could go grab lunch . . . and then we could talk about this," you shook your hands until the bangles clattered against each other.

clark nodded, letting go of one of your hands. it wasn't worth letting go of the hand that held your conjoined bands, so he tightened his grip on that one instead. "jimmy said you're new here . . ." he remembered from the brief mention when he entered the office this morning. "i'll take you to the best spot in town?"

you agreed with a smile but he was already moving to take you before you agreed. you could feel his excitement, the proximity enough to feel weaker versions of what the bold held before accepting it. it was electric, charging you with that same energy as it zapped everyone firing neuron. "wait," you giggled quietly as he pulled you out of the breakroom. "people are gonna—"

"notice?" he shook his head with a chuckle. "nah. i did a pretty good job making sure no one ever pays attention to me." you didn't question it, saving that for a later conversation as he pulled you through to where the elevator was.

he was right, which you couldn't decide if it was depressing or not, because no one looked up at him once. and because you were new, no one paid much mind to you either. the only person who glanced up with calculative journalist eyes was lois lane, but you didn't have much time to dwell on it when the elevator doors opened. clark much like a golden retriever with kryptonian strength, pulled you inside and pressed two buttons.

as the doors closed, all you could do was stand in the comfort of the heat radiating off him onto you, the hole in your heart not yet full, but not as empty as it once had been in the presence of the man whose name had been inscribed into your every breath for as long as you could remember.

─── 𖦹 .✧˚｡taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed): @love-quinn @dinorawrss @tisilex @tocinohater @itzmeme @trulovekay

[xxepherr]

omg you posted saying you were on a trip and i saw your spotify playlist and i’m from brisbane!! did u take a trip there? did you like it?!

i took a trip there in december last year but i’ve been a few times since!!! super lovely there!!! i didn’t go there over the weekend i fear i went camping in the middle of nowhere instead 😭

[xxepherr]

when r u starting here comes the sun?

i was away for the past few days without much service or my laptop so i'm starting to write for it now that i'm home :)

[xxepherr]

──── 𖦹 .✧˚｡ HERE COMES THE SUN, clark kent. the masterlist !

once every thousand years, a prophecy repeats itself. a child of the sun and a child of krypton are born with a single golden band wrapped around their wrists. bounded by fate, the bracelets link to one another when they meet, fastening like handcuffs until the bond is either accepted or rejected.

your bracelet was harder to make sense of. the name engraved into yours wasn't kryptonian, rather plainly human: clark kent, it read. it was confusing and went against everything you knew about the prophecy, but there was a silver lining hidden beneath the seams. surely it made it easier to track down your soulmate on earth if you had a name registered there.

hope was starting to feel hard to grasp. you had been looking for clark kent for over ten years now and were still coming up empty handed. it isn't until you move out of the soul-killing streets of gotham and venture into the next major city over that things start to turn around. transferring from the gotham gazette to the daily planet is the perfect cover you need to broaden your search, and, like the light at the end of a tunnel, the world starts to make all the more sense now.

──── 𖦹 .✧˚｡ note: came up with this while writing a oneshot fic with a similar plot but i got a little too obsessed with the idea and decided to make it a miniseries. i have some concrete ideas that flow into each other but there also might be some larger timeskips between parts to cater for other ideas :) as i publish the chapters they will be added to the bottom of this masterlist!

i'm super excited for this so i hope you enjoy it <33

˚｡⋆ ✶ HERE COMES THE SUN

after years of searching, you finally make the move to scouring the next city over — metropolis. it turns out all the answers you needed were hidden there all along. | 2.3K | FLUFF

˚｡⋆ ✶ I'LL FOLLOW THE SUN

all these years later, you've finally found your soulmate. clark's first decision as an almost-bonded couple is to share a lunch break with you and discuss whether or not to accept the bond over an abnormally tall stack of pancakes. | 1.9K | FLUFF

˚｡⋆ ✶ GOOD DAY SUNSHINE

things have been going well since accepting the soulmate bond. taking time off work, you go with him to smallville to meet his parents for the very first time. | tba | FLUFF

[xxepherr]

⋆˚࿔ dc universe

. . . clark kent

˚｡⋆ CLARK KENT

✶ NONSENSE

in which clark kent thinks he's the one keeping a superhero secret in your relationship, but really, it's you | 2.0k | FLUFF

✶ ICE, ICE BABY

it's your first date with clark kent, but in typical first date fashion, awkwardness ensues | 1.7k | FLUFF

✶ HERE COMES THE SUN

once every thousand years, a prophecy repeats itself. a child of the sun and a child of krypton are born, fated to be soulmates | miniseries | FLUFF

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐ ICE, ICE BABY

summary — it's your first date with clark kent, but in typical first date fashion, awkwardness ensues.

pairings — clark kent x daily planet!reader

pronouns — none

word count — 1792

note — i'm pushing the silly clark kent agenda that's my favourite nerd

IT WAS NO BIG deal.

you were just going on a date with superman.

no big deal. not at all.

it wasn't like you had done your hair three different times because you couldn't decided on a hairstyle. it wasn't like your bedroom floor had outfits strewn across it until the timber was no longer visible, disappearing under mountains of outfit changes. and it certainly wasn't like you had done your eyeliner four times now, makeup wipes smudged black and thrown all over the sink from shaky hands.

it was no big deal.

not at all.

it was clark kent. the same clark kent who started a few days after you and the daily planet. the same clark kent whose desk couldn't be any further from you but somehow you still always met up in the elevator during your lunch breaks. the same clark kent you shared a sandwich with at the diner down the street, until that also became one chocolate milkshake split with two straws. and then it might as well have only been one straw because he kissed you with those chocolate flavoured lips in front of your apartment anyway.

that same clark kent was superman. he'd told you in a rush a few days later in the elevator after work in the wake of the distance he had pushed between the two of you after the kiss. "i can't keep this going unless i tell you," he had whispered into the small space, and you had reached up to slide his glasses down his nose as a form of proof.

now here you were with a real first date planned. it wasn't something you were expecting, a spur of the moment decision that had you asking clark to come over on saturday when you both had the day off. maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to get involved with a superhero but it was still clark.

the spaghetti bolognese was ready, sitting in a saucepan on the stove with the lid keeping it warm. clark had sent a text two minutes ago saying that he was entering the elevator, and your nerves had been rattling ever since.

they rattled until a gentle knock echoed through the wood of the front door, and then they jumbled until your head spun. why was it so much more serious now? the only thing that had changed was the fact that he was secretly an extraterrestrial superhero with perfect eyesight, he was still the same guy. surely.

clark didn't knock again. he waited patiently on the other side of the door until your feet finally started moving and planted you in front of it, hand on the door knob. with a deep breath, you flipped the lock on the door and twisted until it flung open. the nerves disappeared.

he was a spectacle. a black button up sit snug enough on his upper body that the muscles down his arms looked like they were close to suffocating. the top button was undone, more of his broad neck on display without the tie holding it closed. everything else matched: black pants, shoes, watchband and of course those damn glasses.

he looked a little too good. the confidence he had been hiding behind glasses was in full show before your very eyes, and you had absolutely no idea how to act.

"hi," you blinked as he spoke first, a smile gracing his lips. still, under it all, he sounded just the same. no matter how confident he looked and felt, his speech patterns were just as warmly familiar. every anxiety tumbled away. "i, uh, brought this," clark pushed his glasses further up his nose, a nervous tic, and held out the bottle of wine that looked smaller in his large hands. "red wine goes with spaghetti, apparently."

"mhm," you hummed, accepting the bottle of merlot with a quick glance-over at the label. "who told you that?"

"cat."

stepping to the side, you held the door open a little wider so that clark could come in. you noticed his stride was a little wider on the way in so that he didn't hit his head on the doorframe. hiding a smile, you locked the door behind him. "makes sense. not a bad choice."

cat grant wasn't someone you really interacted with at work — she wrote for the gossip column, you wrote the obituary — but it was no surprise clark went to her for advice. it was sweet in a way, that he sought out information on how to make a good impression for a first date. your face felt warm at the thought.

migrating into the kitchen, you set the bottle of merlot down on the dining table on your way through. “can you grab two glasses?” you asked, pointing to the cupboard above where the dishwasher was situated.

clark nodded and opened the cupboard like it wasn’t up near the ceiling, choosing the wine glasses and holding both in one hand. no matter how tall you were, he made that look effortless at well over six-foot tall. you picked up the saucepan from the stove to hide your staring. if he noticed, he didn’t let it show.

the silence wasn’t bad. you served two decent portions of spaghetti at the table while he poured a little too much wine in each glass. it was more nerve-wracking than sharing a sandwich and milkshake at the diner — the idea being on a real date, not sitting in the presence of clark. that didn’t seem as scary anymore.

clark hummed delightfully as you piled the spaghetti as neatly as you could with slightly shaking hands. "smells delicious," he grinned, gently pulling his glasses off, folding them, and setting them on the table next to his glass of wine.

"it's nothing special," you shrugged. "just pasta."

"there's nothing wrong with just pasta," he picked up his fork and twirled it into the bowl. you waited, twirling your own fork mindlessly into your bowl of spaghetti, tremors of anxiety twisting down your spine. what if he hates it? what if there's too much pepper? what if—

steam rose in clouds as he lifted the fork up. it wasn't a problem but you cringed anyway knowing that the meal was too hot instead of just-right. you were nitpicking, sure, but you desperately wanted things to go well. you really liked clark, and here you had the opportunity to turn lunch breaks at the diner into something more.

clark's own nerves were bubbling under his skin, sinking pits into his stomach. he didn't think he'd feel as nervous about going on a date when his secret was out to you, yet he still felt it all the same. majority of his shyness was just a cover up but here you were making him feel like that's who he truly was underneath it all.

he didn't want to mess this up.

you lifted your fork, gently blowing on the pasta and watching the steam disappear. once it wasn't billowing steam anymore, you brought it closer to your lips for the first bite, silently praying it was the best bolognese you had ever made.

fork at your lips, your mouth parted in preparation to bite into the spaghetti when you noticed clark do the exact same thing. he took a small breath, but when he blew out, the steam didn't exactly disappear.

no, it froze.

the air in the room dropped in temperature when he went to blow on the spaghetti, and when your eyes met his fork, you dropped yours with a clang back into your bowl.

clark's fork was frozen like a block of ice. where he had angled down to avoid blowing air on your face, you now noticed that half the bowl you had plated for him looked like an ice cube. the steam was gone like it had never been there to begin with.

it was silent — awkwardly so. clark could only stare at his fork, eyes lowered and trying desperately to avoid looking at you, while his cheeks grew warmer until they were cycling through different shades of pink to red.

your hand slapped over your mouth, eyes wide, but to his surprise, you were laughing. laughing. giggles tumbled out through your hand, still so loud despite the muffle. only then did clark make eye contact with you, and even though he looked more embarrassed than you had ever seen him in your life, he couldn't help but also let a chuckle slip.

"i am so sorry," he bit the inside of his cheek, setting his fork on top of the frozen spaghetti. "i didn't mean to ruin dinner."

"no, no, it's—" you tried to speak but this whole thing was so insane all you could do was try and catch your breath. "i'm sorry for laughing . . . i've just never been on a date where someone has frozen my cooking before."

he couldn't explain that everything about you had him so nervous that he was stumbling to try find his footing. he had never slipped up with his powers before, but then no one had ever made his heart race this quick before. "trust me," he grimaced awkwardly, poking at the solid ice coating the spaghetti. there was no way it was thawing anytime soon. "neither have i."

you bit your lip in thought for a moment, eyes landing on your spaghetti that was no longer spewing steam. lifting it, you held your other hand underneath just in case any of it slipped off the fork. "don't blow on it," you teased.

clark snorted and opened his mouth enough for you to shove the fork in. his lips closed around it, and you waited a moment before taking back your fork. impatiently, you waited for him to chew to receive the verdict.

"gosh," he looked like he was melting, eyes rolling back for a second once he swallowed and chased the pasta down with the wine. trying to act casual and not like he was already planning ways to take you back to meet his mother in smallville was growing tougher by the minute. that was the icing on the cake. "that's . . . i'm speechless," he shook his head, "might be some of the best i've ever had."

your smile was immediate. pushing your chair back, you stood up, his eyes following every move. "i'm gonna get another fork. don't freeze my plate while i'm gone," you gave him a pointed look that looked nowhere near threatening when your cheeks hurt from smiling, but clark still nodded very seriously anyway.

he covered his mouth with his hand, shooting you a wink that made your cheeks flush. "promise."

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐ NONSENSE

summary — in which clark kent thinks he's the one keeping a superhero secret in your relationship, but really, it's you.

pairings — clark kent x vigilante!reader (established relationship)

pronouns — she/her

word count — 2046

note — reader's abilities are in line with matt murdock's — unknown chemicals being exposed to her eyes as a child blinded her but all her senses were amplified to super human levels bc of it. this means she can get a complete picture of pretty much everything around her without being able to see. i am also a clumsy/nerdy clark truther so its painfully obvious here lmao

HER FINGERS DANCED SKILLFULLY across the pages of the book, braille bumps tickling against her fingertips. it was forever her favourite book, having first read jane eyre at twelve, but it was one of those circumstances where she wasn't sure if it was only her favourite because it was the last book she read before the accident.

it was the sweetest gift she had ever been given — it was hard to find nicely-bound braille novel readily available, but clark had done his best after finding out that his girlfriend had been itching to read it again. she hadn't put it down ever since.

the apartment they had moved into eight months ago ( they both finally had stable jobs to rely on — clark at the daily planet and her at the well-established metropolis law firm ) was quiet, a few floors from the top to escape as much of the city's sounds as possible.

clark was the ultimate considerate boyfriend. he learnt fairly early on that her blindness heightened every other sense to the point where sometimes just being hearing people talk could be overwhelming. he'd bought new shirts with a nicer material, had hunted down an apartment that was towards the top floor while remaining affordable, and also changed his cologne to one with a scent that wasn't so overpowering. he knew a thing or two about sense-sensitivity, it was definitely a blessing.

he, however, didn't know the full extent of her capabilities. not like she knew his.

she knew that clark didn't need his glasses to be able to see. she heard them clatter on the table when he got home from work when he thought she wouldn't notice. even if he tried to excuse it, she knew for a fact that he read emails and letters perfectly without them.

she knew that he disappeared for strange stretches of time when metropolis was in crisis and that he came home covered in the scent of strange chemical residue like aftershave. how sometimes she could smell the night air clinging to his clothes when he reappeared randomly in their kitchen after supposedly going to the bathroom.

more dangerously, she knew when he lied. she could hear the jump in his heartbeat, the change in his breathing, and the tangy scent of perspiration, all gathered with one simple tilt of the head.

clark kent lied quite a lot for someone so genuine. little did he know, so did she.

SHE heard clark before she saw him. entering the elevator on the ground floor, to be exact. the sound of his shoes against the floor, the ding of the elevator doors opening, the smiley greeting he offered to their neighbour before pressing the button for their floor, the ding of the doors as they opened again, this time closer.

his footsteps stopped in front of the door. his keys jingled as he fidgeted with them, trying to find the correct one before sliding it into the lock. the smell of roses increased tenfold when he got the door open.

"honey, i'm home!" clark sung in a way that had her heart melting, clumsily kicking off his shoes and shutting the door at the same time. it was cheesy, something she was certain was unironic, but it made her smile and close her novel all the same. he claimed it was her way of not panicking when the door started rattling, but she had a feeling he had been watching too many old sitcoms when she wasn't home.

he sent his things down by the door and made his way through to where he knew she was usually situated on her days off. their shared office that they had half turned into a mini library was cosy; an armchair seated by the window to catch the warmth of the sun's rays, a mahogany desk from a second hand-store on the other side of the room, and a bookshelf growing a collection of case files, books clark enjoyed, and an empty space for the collection of braille books he promised to build for her.

she stood up from the chair, stretching out her aching muscles. the bruise blooming across her ribs was not helping in the slightest. the smile across her face widened when she sensed the air shift, clark's large frame crossing the threshold of the office and scooping her up into a warm hug. her arms flung around his neck in an instant, gentle giggles escaping her from being lifted off the ground. "hey, my love," she mumbled quietly, pressing a kiss to his lips. she tasted the bitterness from the remnants of coffee on his tongue. "d'you have a good day?"

"mhm, yeah," he hummed, setting her back down with one final kiss. "gotcha something." he was quiet at home, even more so after a long day around others ( she knew he didn't get tired as much as he pretended to, his whole unathletic schtick was absolute bullshit when she could hear his heart and breathing ), it was a mix of feeling comfortable in the homely quiet and the fact that his smiles said more than his words did. she couldn't see them, but she could feel them, and even better, she could reach out and physically feel the smile lines creasing into his face. that only ever made him smile more.

plastic scrunched as he handed the bouquet to her, not letting go until her fingers finally closed around the flower stems. she raised her other hand to brush her fingertips across the petals, the texture silky and smooth. one inhale told her all she needed to know, "roses," she breathed out, everything about him so intoxicating that she fell under the spell of mirroring his smile. "you only ever get me roses when you have something to tell me, clark."

it wasn't accusatory. the last two times had been when he told her he got a promotion at work and asked her to be his girlfriend. tulips were his apology flower of choice.

his resolve crumbled. her head tilted.

his heartbeat sped up and his breathing stuttered. the air shifted to indicate the tremor running up his hand, startled into taking a step back. "um . . ." he trailed off awkwardly. he hadn't really thought about how exactly he was going to go about this, thinking no further than buying roses from the little shop on the corner.

she moved around her boyfriend and mapped out the layout from memory. she put a little bit of performance into it: blindly reaching out to brush her fingers against walls and cupboards on her way. clark followed closely behind, his eyes never leaving her in the rare instance that she tumbled into the odd chair.

everything was muscle memory and heightened senses. she moved swiftly around the kitchen in a way that made it look like it was more on the muscle memory side — she loved clark dearly but she was almost certain that her even being insanely good at things a regular person with visual impairments wouldn't have rung alarm bells in his brain. either way, it was better to keep up the charade.

clark was silent, a looming presence like a shadow as she felt through the glassware cabinet to find the vase. it sat towards the front from the last time clark had brought flowers on his way home from work . . . which was four days ago. she had only just thrown the wilted ones away this morning.

"i've been hiding something from you," it spilled out of him all at once. she heard his nerves spike, but his words didn't stop her from moving to the sink and filling up the vase with the tap. she didn't falter as she unwrapped the flowers from the plastic and guided the stems into the vase with both hands as a guide.

"okay . . ." she trailed off, leaving the vase beside the sink. clark usually moved it into the dining room anyway. "you sound worried."

he didn't mean for it all to tumble out. one second he was carefully folding his glasses and setting them on the counter and the next the words were flowing before he could even register them. "i don't like hiding things from you but i want to spend the rest of my life with you so— so i really don't wanna keep secrets anymore," he took a breath, deep and somewhat shaky. "i love you, so i need to tell you."

falling in love with her hadn't been an accident, but he hadn't necessarily meant to fall head over heels in the first place. it was all by chance that they hit it off so well, but clark had never been in a relationship long enough to even think about revealing his secret. this current relationship was long-term, he could feel it now, and he could feel it long before they had both made the commitment to get a place together.

she crossed the room, following the tail-end of his sentence until she stood across the counter from him. "i love you, too," she echoed, placing her hands between them. clark's hands reached to intertwine with hers, gently squeezing her skin between his.

"i'm, uh," he squeezed her hands again, this time a little tighter. "i'm kinda . . . superman."

to his surprise, she didn't even blink. he hadn't really prepared for it, but he expected her reaction to be one of shock. he expected confusion and her to need space and for her to do the head tilt thing he loved so much. all she did was stand still, eyes lowered like they always were, as if this revelation hadn't bothered her in the slightest.

"i know," she finally said, and clark looked more shocked than she should be feeling.

"you . . . know?" he said slowly, carefully, his thumbs circling patterns on her hands. ". . . how?"

"'cause you're not the one with a secret," she cracked a smile like it was nothing, leaning down to rest her elbows on the counter. clark was truly stumped, his mouth opening and closing, unable to voice a single thought that rattled above. "y'know that vigilante that's been cleaning up metropolis? usually at night?"

clark nodded.

"that's me," she flashed him a smile.

he paused momentarily. "but . . ." he didn't know how to say it in a way that didn't feel lesser-than, "you're—"

"blind?" she finished for him. he nodded and she shrugged. "technically, yeah, i am . . . but i can see in other ways. i was blinded by these chemicals as a kid," which he knew, "and they enhanced all my other sense," which he did not know. he just figured all her other senses heightened on their own from conditioning. "i can hear things over forty metres away, i can feel shifts in the air . . . all that stuff."

slumping into his chair, he hummed in thought. now that he thought about it, it made plenty of sense. the way he sometimes found bruises littered across her body and how she would say it was because she fell, but he had never witnessed her take a single tumble in all the time they had been together. how sometimes she caught a glass before it smashed to the floor and chalked it up to luck.

"that's crazy . . ." but he sounded impressed, trying to push away his worry now that he knew she put herself in harms way. he could save that discussion for another time. "you amaze me more and more everyday."

it felt natural to stand there now with no more secrets between them. if anything, it brought them closer together with one more thing in common. something only they knew about each other and could keep from the rest of the world.

it was only when they both curled up on the couch with an old album playing faintly from the record player that clark brought it up again. "could you tell because i was a bad liar or was it because of your secret powers?"

she just smiled, nestling further into the warmth of his side with jane eyre in her lap. "both," she said and he snorted, "but mostly 'cause your heartbeat changes when you lie." they lapsed back into the peaceful evening with promises to talk about it all another time.

[xxepherr]

⋆˚࿔ masterlist

˚｡⋆ FORMULA 1

. . . oscar piastri, charles leclerc, franco colapinto

˚｡⋆ THE BEAR

. . . carmen berzatto, chef luca

˚｡⋆ BROADCASTING

. . . hasan piker

˚｡⋆ MARVEL

. . . matt murdock, frank castle, bucky barnes

˚｡⋆ DC

. . . clark kent

˚｡⋆ PATRICK ZWEIG [ challengers ]

✶ BATHROOM

your best friend tashi drags you along to the frat house party thrown by patrick zweig because her boyfriend art was dragging her along, but things take a turn when you get locked in the bathroom with the party host himself | 2.1k | ANGST

[xxepherr]

⋆˚࿔ marvel

. . . matt murdock, frank castle, bucky barnes

˚｡⋆ MATT MURDOCK

✶ DANCE WITH ME

matt can't see the way you dance to your old vinyls, but he can imagine it. he doesn't have to this time when you invite him to dance with you | 1.4k | FLUFF

✶ ROOFTOPS AFTER DARK

a new vigilante has popped up in hell's kitchen, and he keeps taking up space on your rooftop. already annoyed that he's making your life difficult, you're ready to tear him a new one | 1.3k |

✶ FADE INTO YOU

sometimes it's nice to hide away from everyone in the world. that excludes your boyfriend matt, because he's the only one you want in your bubble | 1.3k | HURT/COMFORT

˚｡⋆ MATT MURDOCK x READER x FRANK CASTLE

✶ GLIMPSE OF US

your boyfriends struggle to get along, but this time it's frank who gets worried when matt isn't home on time | 2.3k | COMFORT

✶ WOULDN'T IT BE NICE

your boyfriends seem to be getting along a little better than they used to . . . and you use that to your advantage in getting frank to move in with you and matt | 3.0k | FLUFF

˚｡⋆ BUCKY BARNES

cyberpunk au ✶ WHERE IS MY MIND? (part one)

it’s the dystopian reality of what the future has become — the year 2077 in the city that never sleeps, night city. during a heist gone wrong, you end up with the prized relic that the depths of the city are hunting for. the relic, a biochip, contains the remnants of the last owner — a retired assassin known as the winter soldier that haunts the nightmares of misbehaving children to this day. however, it seems you’re not dealing with the famed assasin, rather bucky barnes, the former avenger | 3.1k | ANGST

[xxepherr]

⋆˚࿔ broadcasting

. . . hasan piker

˚｡⋆ HASAN PIKER

✶ ELECTION DAY

in which austin accidentally lets it slip that hasan's faceless (yet public) girlfriend is the woman they're currently watching analyse the maps on CNN | 1.8k | FLUFF

✶ MRS HOLLYWOOD

hasan is caught in the loop of a cyclical relationship with hollywood's biggest star | 736 | ANGST/HURT

✶ HEART EYES

hasan can't help but sit back and watch with adoration while you decorate his christmas tree | 736 | FLUFF

✶ SURPRISE SINGLE

you drop a surprise single conveniently while hasan is streaming, and that means he has to react to it on principle | 1.7k | FLUFF

✶ HOMESICK

hasan's homesick after spending time away from you in japan, and you're homesick because his house isn't a home without him in it | 1.3k | FLUFF

✶ RESEARCH

in which a research day takes place in the comfort of the home she shares with her boyfriend. he has a debate with his former podcast cohost to prepare notes for, and she has a federal election to cover | 1.4k | FLUFF

[xxepherr]

⋆˚࿔ the bear

. . . carmen berzatto, chef luca

˚｡⋆ CARMEN BERZATTO

✶ CHRISTMAS EVE

a berzatto christmas gone wrong is the perfect excuse for carmen and you to spend christmas eve back at your hotel room | 1.8k | ANGST/HURT/COMFORT

✶ RACECAR BLANKETS

a fight with your parents leaves you without a home for the night. you have never really spoken to your neighbour before, but carmen is your only option at such a late hour | 2.9k | COMFORT

[xxepherr]

⋆˚࿔ formula 1

. . . oscar piastri, charles leclerc, franco colapinto

˚｡⋆ OSCAR PIASTRI

✶ SLIP UP

oscar wasn't exactly ready for the world to find out that he had a girlfriend, but he can't find it in him to be upset about the outcome when one slip up exposes the secret | 2.2k | FLUFF

˚｡⋆ CHARLES LECLERC

✶ IF WALLS COULD TALK

in which pillow talk leads to wondering if the growing feelings charles has for his best friend's sister is worth bringing up | 1.2k | FLUFF/COMFORT

˚｡⋆ FRANCO COLAPINTO

✶ JEALOUSY, JEALOUSY

franco's just been thrown into the glamorous world of formula 1, and as his slightly jealous partner, you don't take all the people flirting with him too lightly | 2k | FLUFF

[xxepherr]

.ೃ࿐ FADE INTO YOU

summary — in which sometimes it's nice to hide away from everyone in the world. that excludes your boyfriend matt, because he's the only one you want in your bubble.

pairings — matt murdock x anxious!invisible!reader (established relationship)

pronouns — none

word count — 1356

note — was woken up by smth and needed to finish writing this lowkey hurt/comfort. it’s not the best but i needed to cope somehow lmao. this is not connected to my other invisible!reader work(s).

WHEN YOU WERE A kid, you started to notice things about yourself. or lack thereof.

growing up with anxiety in an outgoing family was hard, but you pushed through. generalised anxiety morphed into social anxiety when you started school, and it never seemed to get easier. it was so difficult that you used to just wish you could disappear.

and then you did. 

you could never be too sure what started it — whether it was the constant manifestation or maybe it was just straight up the product of how much your anxiety was taking over your life. either way, you kept it a secret and utilised it to your best ability, from sitting in the library in complete peace during school to simply being unseen in crowds. the only problem you’d found was that if you remained invisible a little too long, it took longer for you to materialise back into the eyes of many again.

since meeting matt years ago, you found it easier to not feel like you needed to hide away from the world anymore, at least not with him. you had a reason to be seen: you were his guiding arm in hell’s kitchen ( which he of course did not need, but no one paid much attention to a blind man in a busy city as it was, they certainly would stare if he was miraculously dodging cars in busy streets ) and you were his anchor to his day job, his tether far away from his night one. 

things still got overwhelming, much like they were today, and it was hard to think when you felt like a million pairs of eyes were on you. it started when you dropped a glass in the kitchen, it continued when you’d burnt the toast you were making for matt and yourself, and it soared to a torturous height when you realised your favourite hoodie was in the wash. it was not a good day. it was a very, very, very bad one. 

matt’s consoling only ever did so much. it helped, you hadn’t met anyone else who was able to calm you down more than he could, but you still couldn’t shake the tears streaming down your face, melting into the white shirt he had on, melting much like you were, fading from view until matt looked like he was hugging the air. 

he couldn’t tell you were invisible unless you hid your heartbeat and breathing from him, a trick you’d realised was something you could do after you found out matt was the devil of hell’s kitchen during the dark hours of the night. he wanted you safe, and the more you thought about that simple fact, you were dealing with matt’s sudden panic when he couldn’t sense you anymore.

he froze, calling out your name like a sacred whisper in the night. his arms fell limp, and your tears worsened when his comfort disappeared. “i can’t . . . where’d you go?”

you sniffled, and his head tilted, trying to pinpoint the exact location. “i’m right here . . .” your chest ached, reaching out to touch him in hopes that it was some sort of sick joke. that maybe his mind was playing tricks on him and there was a lapse in his heightened senses. 

your hand went directly through his arm like you were a ghost, and the cold shiver than ran through him made the tears fall quicker, harder. 

“i—“ but the words weren’t forming. you scrambled backwards in fear until you tumbled off the couch. matt followed the noises but it was hard to follow when your silhouette wasn’t shifting the air at all. “you can’t—“

“don’t panic,” his voice was level and soft but a tremor ran through it. he stood up, unsure of what to do now that his world was fully blind. the rest of the world he could work with, but you disappearing . . . that was one of the worst things that had ever happened to him. and he had been on the brink of death more times than you could count on one hand. 

everything was hurting. your throat, your chest. your eyes, they were all anxiety and tears. but your muscles were tense and aching, your neck felt stiff and pins and needles pricked your fingertips. “i . . . think i . . .” it was hard to speak and harder to not give in to sitting on the floor and rocking back and forth until it was all over. “maybe i— i manifested my form too far by accident.” you inhaled a little too much oxygen and your brain went fuzzy for a moment. “that’s never happened before . . .”

your mumbles were so quiet that if he weren’t matt murdock he wouldn’t have been able to hear you. you had never had control over your invisible form before, only ever just enough to disappear from those who didn’t matter and didn’t deserve to look your way. this was too severe now, you wanted your boyfriend’s gentle touch and all the love that came with it. you wanted to feel his strong arms ground you back to reality like they did every time, holding you close until your breath was his own. 

“okay,” matt breathed in deeply. his hands were clasped together in front of him, knuckles turning white under the pressure. “sit still, just listen.” 

taking a seat directly in the middle of the hardwood flooring, you crossed your legs and sunk your hands into your lap. he was giving you something to grasp on to, something to anchor yourself back to the present without it physically being him. matt adapted quickly to situations, whether that be the lawyer or daredevil in him, and that was grounds to be silent and listen. 

matt didn’t say anything. a frown pulled your lips downwards, your knee rapidly bouncing as your fingers tapped, until you sighed and your eyes stung more. “matt.”

“listen,” he said again, voice gentler this time. “find something to focus on.”

your frustrations were brewing, a fresh batch of tears cooking up behind your eyes. all you could hear was your heartbeat thundering and your breath rattling. a violent storm was swirling in your half of the lounge room; it was impossible to escape. “not working,” you grumbled, shoving your hands over your ears to try muffle the deafening sounds. 

he wasn’t going to say you’re not trying, matt refused to let his panic bubble over into irritation to lessen the tension in his shoulders. all that would do was make matters and land you both in this predicament longer. “think of it like a radio,” he said carefully, slowly, clearly. “tune out what you don’t want and sift through for something else. close your eyes and focus.”

easy for you to say, you thought, but you listened. eyes closed, the world seemed louder, your ears straining to make up for the lack of vision with every little overwhelming sound. from the wind howling out the window to the fly buzzing around your head. 

eventually, like an old radio, you started to tune sound. you devoted all your attention to the smaller sounds, sifting like he said, to focus on something not harsh but not so mellow until your hands fell from your ears back into your lap. 

tick . . . tick . . . tick . . .

the antique clock sitting in the middle of the wall was off by a few minutes, but the old mechanical click was a nice repetition. each tick was the same distance apart every time, and it wouldn’t stop ticking unless something was wrong with it. it was the perfect sound to fall back on. 

“there you are,” broke your concentration. your eyes flickered open to find matt closing the distance until you were up off the floor and into the comfort of his arms. he squeezed too tight but you didn’t care, sinking so far into him you may as well have moulded into one being. “there you are . . .”

[xxepherr]

the way i just sprinted into the other room to tell my dad that christian horner got sacked 😭😭😭