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mlmxreader · 2 years

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Hell of a Ride | Clark Kent x m!reader (🍋)

@spicyveganfun asked: “I wanna fuck you so badly right now” and hair pulling kink with Clark Kent and a bottom reader

summary: you and Clark get down on the sofa.

tws: hair pulling!kink, swearing, anal, anal fingering, praise!kink

notes: top!Clark, bottom!reader, sub!Clark, dom!reader

word count: 948

MINORS DNI OR YOU’LL GET BLOCKED

You and Clark were enjoying your time at home together, lounging on the sofa without a care in the world, his groin pressed up against your ass as he trailed his hand up and down your side, his touch so deft and so gentle as he admired every spot of skin he could touch, hidden beneath the duvet that covered you both from the shoulders down; you wanted him so badly, pressing your ass against his cock a little as you squirmed to try and get him to ask, but he simply blushed and swallowed thickly, the sound audible only because of how close you were. You sighed, and reached down to grab his wrist.

“Clark, please,” you whined. “I wanna fuck you so badly right now…”

Clark’s face went a little pink as he smiled, licking his lips. “Would you, uhm, would you go get the lube?”

You nodded, a little eager as you slipped into the bathroom; you made sure to stretch your ass with your fingers as you applied the lube, waiting for him to stroke himself as you felt yourself getting harder the more you played with your ass. You hoped that you had applied enough lube, and stretched yourself enough, as you slipped back beneath the duvet, wriggling out of your boxers as you did so; your breath was a little ragged as you licked your lips and got on top of him.

“You ready?”

Clark nodded, letting out a harsh and loud moan when you lined him with your ass and sank down; you started to roll your hips and to quietly growl when he sat upright and started to thrust up into your ass. Fuck, he was hitting all the right places without even trying.

Not thinking twice about it, you grabbed the hair at the back of his head, and pulled tightly.

“Oh, fuck!” He gasped, pounding into you a little harder.

“You like that?” You asked, working your ass on him as you moaned softly, biting down on your bottom lip.

Clark nodded, a little needy if he was honest. “Yes! Please… please, (y/n), do that again.”

Never one to disappoint, you yanked his hair again, enjoying the little whimpers of pleasure that left him when you did; you had no idea that he would be into such a thing, but you couldn’t say you were surprised. You yanked him into a kiss, hot and open mouthed and heavy, and when you slipped your tongue into his mouth, he whined, grabbing your ass to try and pull you closer as you ground down against him. Fuck, you loved the way his cock felt in your ass, and you loved how needy he could be. You loved it when he was submissive even more, and when he pulled away, begging for you to keep riding him and to keep pulling his hair, you couldn’t resist, even going so far as to praise him.

“You’re doing so good, Clark,” you moaned, rolling your hips against him, almost letting go of his hair when you placed your other hand against his shoulder, able to feel his sweat against his skin. “Fuck, I love how you fill me up like this… shit, don’t stop.”

He wasn’t about to stop, a little more confident in his thrusts and his upward snaps of his hips, keeping his hands on your ass, not enough to leave marks but enough to make you shudder and shiver on top of him; you really, really loved it when he did that. He was so fucking needy, whimpering and whining and begging for you to pull his hair, to praise him, to use his cock like a sex toy - you loved every second of it, his little whines and whimpers, his soft begs, his quiet pleads for more, more, more. And you were more than happy to indulge every request, loving the way that he met your gaze with such pleading eyes; fuck, you loved it when he was submissive. The Man of Steel himself, begging for you to use him like he was a fucking toy.

“You’re being such a good boy,” you praised, ghosting your lips against his. “Such a fucking good boy.”

Clark loved it when you praised him, more than he could say, and as you continued to do all those things that he loved so much; he almost couldn’t hold himself back, his grip on your ass growing a little rougher as he sped up the way he moved his hips against you, little whines and whimpers and mewls leaving his lips as he begged for you to let him cum, to please let him cum. You could hardly hold yourself back, moving your ass a little slower as you gasped and moaned against his lips, the noises so low and thunderous that they were almost hardly audible; you pushed him down against the sofa, your hands on his chest as you let out a loud moan of his name, cumming all over his chest - he couldn’t hold himself back at that point, daring to cum inside your ass as you continued to work him, panting heavily as you did your best to try and think of something, anything, that you could say.

“Fuck me,” you breathed out eventually, swiping a hand down your chest and chuckling. “You certainly know how to show a guy a good time, don’t you, Clark?”

Bashful and blushing, Clark shrugged as he licked his lips. “I do try… would you like me to run you a bath?”

You nodded, humming softly as you let him pull out. “A bath does sound really good, right now, I won’t lie.”

#mlem writes #clark kent oneshot #clark kent one shot #clark kent imagine #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #clark kent x yn #clark kent #superman oneshot #superman one shot #superman imagine #superman x reader #superman x you #superman x y/n #superman x yn #superman

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nat-ter · 3 months

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Bruce had never met Superman face to face but he still hated the alien and thought of him as a threat and he was convinced his boys did too— except his kids are traitors. They each met Superman individually and found him really friendly and nice. At first, they were all hiding the fact that they were friends with Superman from each other, and especially from Bruce. So while Bruce was obsessed with coming up with contingency plan after contingency plan to take down Superman— even though he didn't try to kill the alien yet since Superman was still doing good for the people and Bruce couldn't just attack someone who hadn't done any wrong yet— the kids were making excuses to go meet Superman in secret and Bruce just went on oblivious to the fact that his kids are backstabbing demons.

Of course they lied to Superman too, about Batman's opinions of the Man of Steel, and the various plans he had made to kill said man. They always came up with reason after reason why Superman shouldn't or couldn't meet Batman, sometimes it's getting so ridiculous they were sure even Superman would call their buff. But sweet, ol' Kal never did.

Eventually, they found out that none of them held a grudge against Superman like Batman did, so they all teamed up together and cover for each other whenever one of them spend time with Superman, or cover the fact that Superman came to Gotham one too many time than he should. And it was the one thing that all of them could work together on without fighting or insulting each other. At one point, to keep their secret friendship with Superman, Dick even went so far to wear Batman's costume and meet Superman as Batman because Superman had wanted to meet Batman really bad and they were running dry on why Batman couldn't make time to meet the neighboring hero, and it wasn't like they could just ask Bruce to meet him considering the large collection of Kryptonite in the Cave. And they didn't exactly want their mentor to find out they had went behind his back and formed a friendship with who he swore was his mortal enemy (B's dramatic like that).

They tried to broach the subject of partnership with Superman to Bruce once in a while, of course, but every single time they were either shot down immediately and called ridiculous for even thinking about it or they had to sit through a dramatic monologue about how Superman couldn't be trusted and why they should stay away from him.

But Superman could fly and had superspeed so of course they couldn't stop him if he were to randomly come to Gotham and speak with Batman as if they were friends. Which was what exactly happened. Dick, as Batman, had warned Superman to never, ever come to Gotham without prior notice and to make sure no one notice his presence while he was in the city ("but you can totally see my kids. I'm cool with that." "Oh? Thanks, Batman. But... you know you sound younger than I thought you would." "Uh... yeah, I. Ehem. I'm very in touch with the modern lingo."), and Superman had readily agreed citing about respecting each other's boundaries and all, so the kids thought they were in the clear. But of course, there would be an emergency when even Superman wouldn't have the time to page first before coming right into Batman's turf and ask for his help.

So on a relatively quiet night, Batman was perching on a gargoyle while the newest Robin was scouting out the alleyways for any trouble. And Superman decided to touch down on the roof behind the crouching Batman and said, as if they had met before, as if they were close friends who hang out every once in a while, "Good evening, Batman. It's nice to see you again. Sorry I couldn't page first, and I hope you're not too busy because I have an emergency and I could really use your help."

Batman had gone rigid in a second and through gritted teeth, said, "Superman."

Upon hearing the name through the comm, Damian panicked and immediately sent out an emergency alert to his brothers before grappling to the building where sweet, clueless Superman with his sweet heart was facing the big bad Bat of Gotham who had been stockpiling on kryptonite for years, waiting for the day he would fight Superman. Which was the first mistake.

Because of course Superman, friendly Superman, with heart the size of the Sun, immediately recognised Robin. And of course, clueless Superman with his dumb, harmless 1000 megawatt smile was waving at Robin as if they were friends, as if they knew each other, as if Robin didn't hear Bruce grumbling about each piece written about the good deeds the Superman did every other day.

The others arrived at the scene faster than they would have at any night. Panic stricken and scared shitless of Bruce's wrath. And of course Superman immediately greeted them as soon as they got there.

Batman had merely narrowed his eyes when Superman had waved at Robin, and barked, sharper than he had before, "What the hell are you doing in my city?"

Superman looked taken aback but he was quick to recover. Seems like whatever emergency he got was more prominent than figuring out why his sort-of-not-really-friend was behaving weirdly. "Like I said, I have an emergency and I could really use your help, Batman."

Batman scoffed but with the voice modulator it sounded garbled and hard for the ears. "And what makes you think I would help you?"

Superman blinked. "What do you mean— Why wouldn't you help me?"

"First you encroach into my city without even asking for permission, talking to me as if we are— friends. And then you ask for my help as if I would just drop everything on my plate and follow you. Who do you think—"

But Batman's rant was cut off by the arrival of the other three heroes who stood at the edge of the roof, looking sheepish and guilty, breathing heavily in the quiet night. Superman looked at them, bewildered and surprised to see all the Batfamily in one place but smiling wide nonetheless because he was happy to see his little friends together. It had always been two kids or one. Never three, never all of them and certainly not with Batman in the mix.

"Oh, hey, Red Robin, Nightwing and Red Hood...?" Superman waved awkwardly by the end of his greetings, looking unsure. "Sorry," he said and actually curled in on himself a little as if he's self-conscious. "Are you guys on a big case? I didn't hear anything so I thought you weren't busy. I guess I could try to contact Wonder Woman if you have your hands full."

Superman turned to Batman but Batman was slowly turning his head towards where his kids stood at the edge of the roof. He was eerily silent and motionless making the kids take a step back nervously. Superman watched the scene with a frown, pulling his eyebrows together so tightly they almost meet in the middle. He was starting to detect that something wasn't quite right.

"Explain." Batman barked.

And Superman's face scrunched up even further. Clearly the man was deep in thought. "You know," he said slowly before none of the kids could speak. "Batman. You sound really different than the last time we met. Or any other time, actually. It's as if you're..." he trailed off, staring at Batman's feet, lost in his thoughts again.

"What." Batman shifted slightly. "We've never met before."

"Oh," Superman breathed out, his face going slack. He turned to Nightwing and the young hero immediately stood up straighter. "It was you."

Batman's head snapped towards where Dick was standing with his hands literally clasped behind his back like a soldier. "Nightwing," growled Batman. "Explain."

"Uhh..." said Dick eloquently.

"Red Robin." Bruce barked when Dick fell into silence, unable to come up with a plausible excuse, or to tell the truth.

"Err..." said Tim, swaying a little on his feet. He hadn't had enough sleep or coffee in him to live through the situation.

Batman did not sigh but Bruce Wayne did. A lot. And the kids had a knack of bringing out the dad side in him so Batman sighed through the voice modulator before he could think better. He had always suspected that his kids were up to something but he was so consumed with the thought of the alien— who was now standing in front of him with the world's greatest kicked puppy eyes in the world for some reason— he had stupidly thought whatever shenanigans his sons were up to, he would be able to deal with it later. Of course, he had never thought that his kids were dirty, backstabbing demons.

"Father," Damian finally said, but only because Jason had been signing at him to do so, telling him to use his puppy eyes since it still seemed to work on Bruce. "This is a misunderstanding."

But apparently they were dealing with the full Bat tonight, despite the involuntary sigh, because Batman did not slumped down his shoulders like he always did when Damian turn on his pleading eyes, instead he stood up straight as ever and met Damian's eye straight on. Jason was sure he could hear thunderstorm coming their way.

"A misunderstanding." He repeated flatly.

"Yes." Dick quickly said and Jason gave him a side eye. Dude, he thought, I just convinced the demon child to throw himself under the bus, why are you still talking.

"How is this a misunderstanding." His tone was so flat it didn't even come out as a question.

"I don't understand," Superman said instead, before anyone could reply Batman. He turned to the kids, his face set in disappointment so similar to Bruce's the kids actually flinched back. "You told me Batman was okay with me hanging out with you guys... And he told me— Oh. Nightwing. Right."

Batman's shoulders went impossibly more rigid. "You have been... hanging out."

"Err," said Nightwing, Red Robin and Robin simultaneously. Jason wisely kept his mouth shut. But Bruce's eyes still landed on him. Jason groaned in his head. So much for staying undetected.

"Red Hood," Bruce said slowly, very pointedly. "I thought you hate Superman."

"Yeah, well." Jason shrugged with nonchalance he didn't feel. "Turns out, he's a pretty great guy. So, kudos to him. Yay...?"

"You hated me?" Superman asked, looking dejected. Like someone kicked his dog and Jason knew he had a dog so the expression was even more daunting. And Jason wasn't having any of it, okay. Kal-El had literally given Red Hood his Ma's secret recipe for the perfect cinnamon roll. Which tasted like heaven (sorry Alfred). They had a bond, okay. No way he would let Superman see him as some cynical asshole. No way.

"Not fucking fair. It was the old man who went on and on about how you can't be trusted while making weapons to kill you. So, in my defense, it was hard to like you when all your flaws and possible weaknesses are pointed out in an alphabetical order." He threw a quick glance at the old man he just threw under the bus. Bruce looked unimpressed as ever. "But that was before I met you and found out that you're actually a chill dude. With a mother who's, like, the God of Baking."

"Superman doesn't have a mother!" Batman, honest to god, spluttered.

"Yes, he does." The young heroes said in unison.

"His world is dead. His parents are dead." Batman needlessly emphasised the word 'dead', for which he got four pairs of unimpressed eyes.

"B, have you ever heard of adoption." Dick said, emphasising the last word just to spite Bruce. Because of course Bruce did, if not, three of them wouldn't be there.

"You have Earth parents!" Batman exclaimed quite unlike himself, pointing a finger at Superman as if that's an accusation.

"You want to kill me." Kal whispered, his puppy eyes back on full effect.

Batman shifted uncomfortably. It was one thing to plan ways to kill someone, even if they're alien, it's completely different when said someone you wanted to kill was confronting you about the very thing.

"Yes." Damian reaffirmed. Ever the literal. "Father has been producing a variety of weapons to weaken you, hurt you and eventually kill you with the material called Kryptonite."

"Robin." Tim hissed.

Damian was still a growing child, emotionally and physically. But even he knew that when his any of his brothers said his name like that, it meant he had crossed a line he shouldn't have without realising he did.

"But you have nothing to worry about, Kal." Damian quickly amended. "Should father try to use these weapons under unwarranted circumstances, he will find the stock empty. We have contingency plans for father's contingencies—"

"Damian." It was Dick this time, who quickly moved and put a hand over Robin's mouth. He didn't even realise his mistake, not any of them did, actually.

"What." Batman said. Mostly confused. He couldn't even find it in himself to be furious at the moment. He was just flummoxed.

"Oh. Uh." Superman stammered. "Thank you? That's really nice of you."

An awkward silence befall the rooftop as each hero stood awkwardly where they were, barely breathing, motionless, not knowing what action to take next. Eventually Batman shifted an inch.

Oh no, thought the boys, he's going to go on another rant.

"You went behind my back," Batman started with a dark voice. "I warned you about the danger and you dismissed it. You went and made an alliance with my enemy." Here, Superman let out a protesting noise which could also he offended because, really? Enemy? Batman ignored it. "Not only that, you made plans to go against me. Instead of talking to me, you decided to oppose me. I have trained you and taught you everything you need to know. I take care of you and make sure to meet each of your needs. And this is what I get in return. Betrayal. You did not listen to me and—"

But he was cut off by a sardonic voice. "Master Wayne," said a voice from the batcomm each Bat was wearing, and Superman with his superhearing could hear it loud and clear too. "Considering your history of doing what you were told not to do, are you sure that you should be giving this speech?"

"Alfred," Batman said, sounding almost petulant.

"It is your fault, afterall, that you did not seek out Superman first before deciding who he is and what he is like. It is a good thing, if I may be so bold to say, that the kids see past the mask and befriend Superman in spite of what you have to say about him." Batman looked at Superman who was standing there awkwardly, staring at Batman. Bruce sneered, unable to help himself.

"Quit that," Alfred admonished. Bruce immediately dropped it. Superman blinked. "Now, Master Bruce. I agree that Master Dick, Master Jason, Master Tim and Master Damian should have come forward with their established friendship with Superman but considering your opinion on him, I believe it is understandable that they hesitated to do so." The aforementioned young boys nodded their head at Bruce. "That is not to say, however, that their behaviour shall go unpunish." Now they were groaning and Bruce had a little smile of triumph. "Perhaps, a few days off petrol and reflecting on our behaviours would do us some good. Including you, Master Bruce." Bruce immediately dropped his smile. Why him, too? Alfred answered right away. "I believe you realise now that you have been acting brashly the past few years. Now, we know that Superman is not as aloof and alien as we had previously thought. He is more earthbound than we believed him to be. If he were to go, he will have someone to miss him."

The kids nodded again. Superman just stared at Bruce with wide eyes and an expression Bruce couldn't put together. Whatever, Bruce had no time to care about him. He turned slightly away to whisper to the comm.

"But Alfred—"

"None of that now. I suggest you send the young lads home and we put this discussion off for the future."

In the ensuing silence, Superman softly breathed out: "Wayne."

Batman immediately went rigid, and so did the other young vigilantes. How the hell—

"Bruce... Wayne...?" Superman searched Batman's covered face as if he was trying to see if he was actually coming to a concrete conclusion.

"Oh," Alfred said, surprised and guilty. "The supersenses have slipped my mind. My apologies, Master Bruce."

For the first time in his life, Bruce didn't know what to do. Of course his immediate response should be deflection. But how could you lie to Superman about the very thing he just heard. The kids didn't seem to know what else to do either.

"Perhaps, you should ask Superman to come over for tea if his emergency is not an emergency anymore and we could talk about this in a more secure place." Alfred smoothly continued. No point in lying now. Superman had heard what he had heard and it was unlikely that he could be convinced that his superhearing was faulty.

Superman blinked a few times as if to clear his thoughts before he cleared his throat. "Yes, uhm. I was going to ask Batman to help me take a look at some data about a shipment from Gotham to Metropolis that was to happen tonight. I have reasons to believe that Luthor is involved and when Luthor is involved—"

"Kryptonite is involved." Bruce finished it for him.

Superman looked at him, seemingly a bit surprised. "Erm, yes. That. But I think it has already happened so... I'd have to follow it up tomorrow. So. Uh. I have... time?"

Batman narrowed his eyes and stayed silent.

"Bruce." Alfred said.

"C'mon B," Dick piped up. "The worst has already happened."

"I concur, Father. Kal-El now knows who you are, it is only best that the matter of discretion be properly discussed." Damian nodded sagely.

"The fuck, old man, are you still contemplating this?" Jason raised his arms in disbelief. He's so done with this family.

"Language, Master Jason."

"Uhh..." Tim swayed on his feet.

Batman sighed again. Dammit. Instead of showing his discomfort, however, he growled out a mean, "Fine." And then he grappled towards where he parked the Batmobile. Those brats could find their own way home and Superman? He could fly anyway.

Turned out, Superman could fly with four more passengers and Red Robin's bike that the kids used to get to that building. Although Bruce later gave Kal a piece of his mind about safety and the standard amount of people Superman should carry during flight without putting anyone in danger.

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popawritter12 · 8 months

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Yandere!Clark Kent + Yandere!Bruce Wayne x female!reader

𝕐𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕤: Bruce Wayne and Clark Kent

𝕄𝕒𝕟𝕘𝕒| 𝔸𝕟𝕚𝕞𝕖| 𝕧𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕠𝕘𝕒𝕞𝕖| 𝕥𝕧 𝕠𝕣 𝕞𝕠𝕧𝕚𝕖 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕖: Dc movie series (?

ℂ𝕒𝕤𝕖: Scenes of jealousy, attempted aggression.

ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥:1 of 1

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: I spent several days trying to do something coherent, I didn't like Batman vs Superman nor did I find a coherent way to make a Yandere story of these two. But hey, this is the final result, which is located after the events of the new flash movie (I mean, the new reboot of the DC world)

{AND YES, I PUT A PHOTO OF BATMAN VS SUPERMAN BECAUSE I THINK IT WAS AWESOME}

⋆ටᆼට⋆ ⋆ටᆼට⋆ ⋆ටᆼට⋆ ⋆ටᆼට⋆

Coffee, cooked mate, tea, black tea, green tea, smoothies, croissants, ice cream.

You smell the sweet atmosphere and feel the warmth of the cafeteria atmosphere fill your soul and body with happiness. As if you have changed from a horrendous and heavy environment to one full of happiness and peace and love, you smile, thinking about what to ask for.

For a few days you longed for a break from work, and finally you had it, you could finally have breakfast in complete peace, without worrying about whether you arrived late or late to a place or to do such a thing.

After talking to the clerk about what you were asking for, you sit down to think about your life, and what you could do today. Walk in the park? Watch a movie? Or maybe just lie in bed and sleep like you've never slept in your life.

Or maybe... visit Barry, one of your best friends.

Yeah, that sounded like a great idea, catch up and talk like they did before they got into college.

But... Something went wrong, something interrupted the little rest you had, and you knew that thanks to the people who suddenly went outside.

As if everything were a chaos orchestrated by destiny, as if it were God who had decided to let humans take the reins of their destiny, you see how a kind of fabric is torn in the sky. A hole in the shape of torn cloth reveals two men, peering out of the gloomy chaos that had ensued.

People watched, took photos with their cell phones or recorded videos, or were directly shocked by the bizarre situation in which they lived. The surreal thing about this fact was that a part of you thought that Barry was in danger.

A pang that runs through your stomach as if it were your body telling you something, forces you to start pushing people.

Elbows, shouts, pushes; everything seemed like chaos with the people who began to mobilize.

You walk out of the cafeteria, looking directly into the hole that had opened up.

As strange as it may seem, or as fearful as you did not express, you were able to see two people in the distance that you casually or conveniently knew.

---Bruce? ---Questions with a small voice ---, Clark?

All the noise that people were making because of the shouting, or just because of the amount of people moving slowly fades away, as if your brain was only focused on the two people who were there, above, staring at you, as if they were watching you. searching.

It is then that the hole gets bigger, and an immediate desire to run or hide from what was going to happen ran through your mind and body taking over you

But... everything was in vain, everything had already been determined, everything had already been done, as if destiny had already been written on a stone.

You can see it, the world you've known, the people you've always loved, or even your very existence disappears.

In a blink, you go from being at work, watching the world be destroyed by something you didn't even understand, to waking up from your bed.

You remove the sheets from your body with violence, throwing the sheets on the floor. You look around you, scared; it was your room, but almost completely different.

Instead of posters of your favorite bands, there are posters of people you didn't know. From titles like "The woman in the cabaza" or "The dance of the end of the world" were movie titles that you had seen in your life.

Instead of losing your mind, or starting to panic, you know you can't lose your mind now.

Inhale, hold, exhale, inhale, hold, exhale.

You kept up the routine for a few minutes, until you even managed to keep the peace, even now.

---Remember; everything is fine, everything is fine, ---You inhale again, trying to keep the peace ---, everyone is alive, it was just a nightmare, it was just one more nightmare.

After a few minutes that at this point seemed endlessly insufferable, a sudden call interrupts your attempt to keep all your ducklings in line.

Seeing the cell phone, which was on top of a small book that was on top of a wooden shelf, you take it in your hands.

"Barry <3"

A small hope that everything was a nightmare appears, so you answer.

---Hello? (Name)? --- You hear his voice, like a worried older brother.

---Barry? ---You questions, happy.

You listen for a moment as if Barry did sounds of a happy person, as if he is celebrating that you still remember him.

---It's good that you remind me...! --- He cuts off his own sentence ---, I mean, I'm glad you're okay

---Yes, I'm fine... ---You answer, averting your gaze ---, I just... woke up.

--- Thank goodness --- He whispers, as if he were nervous ---, by the way, can we meet somewhere?

---Yes, s-sounds perfect ---You whisper, trying to hide your nervousness ---, where can we meet?

---I can hear you're nervous, did you have another nightmare? ---He asks.

You blink a few times, remembering that he knew about the nightmares you had for practically your entire life.

---Yeah... It was horrible ---Your voice cracks ---, I can't believe it felt so real!

---Huh? But if all your nightmares feel real... ---He mentions, confused.

---B-But... I could see as if the world was destroyed, something in the sky opened up! ---You explain, nervous ---. Everything was fine, it was my day off but... when I went outside, something in the sky opened up and...

---Oh... ---He whispered, this time more confused ---.., wait, did it open and something or someone peeked out? Like a person or...

---Bruce and Clark! The two of them peered out of the hole that opened ---You express, worsening your condition.

Barry is silent, it was noticeable that his words were stuck in his throat. It is then that, after a few seconds and listening to you sob with fear.

---(Name)... ---Barry called you.

---And I thought it was a dream because everything was being quite strange, and... ---You explained, getting out of bed and looking at the posters in your room ---, I'm in a stranger's room!

---(Name)

---It looks a lot like mine! But it has very... strange tastes, I've never met any of these bands or movies ---You say, investigating the room further.

---(Name) ---He calls you once more.

---What's happening?

---It was not a nightmare.

---What? ---You ask, before listening to someone knock on your door.

---(Name), I need you to go to the park in front of your house, Bruce and I will be there, okay? --- Explains Barry, you could see that he was trying to stay calm.

---O-Okay... ---You whisper, ending the call quickly, looking at the door.

After a few seconds of mustering as much courage as possible, you go to the door and open it. Your fear is suddenly replaced by surprise when you see who was there.

---Clark?! ---Your voice is shot throughout the house, to your surprise, you can see it there; completely calm.

He was carrying a white ceramic cup with flowers, which seemed to have something inside.

---What's up, (Name)? ---Clark asks, confused ---, are you okay?

You look at him for a few seconds, trying not to say something that would probably be very incoherent. You look at the cup that he was carrying in his hands.

---It's nothing... Did you need something? ---Questions, playing with your hands.

---Oh, nothing, nothing ---He repeats, with his cheeks a little reddish ---, I just wanted to bring you a cup of coffee, as I saw that you didn't get up.

You blink a few times, before seeing how he extends the cup towards you.

---Thank you... ---You whisper, before taking the cup in your hands.

--- By the way, --- He mentions, before suddenly changing his tone --- who was that you were talking to?

You can see that because his body was tense and his tone of voice had changed, he sounded different than what you were used to.

--- It was Barry --- You answer, drinking from the cup between your hands ---, he said he needed me to go to the park near here.

--- Oh, --- His voice changes even more for a moment, erasing the smile on his face, but suddenly it's back to normal.

---I'll go now ---You say, happy ---, say hi to Louis for me.

As you walk past your good friend, he suddenly grabs your arm, not forcefully, and in fact hardly exerts any force in his grip.

--- (Name) --- he calls you ---, can I go with you?

---Hey?

Your smile disappears, before scratching the back of your neck with one of your hands.

---Well... Barry says that Bruce will be there, don't you think it would be better if I go alone?

Yes, you were perfectly aware of the certain tension that existed in their relationship, therefore, it was best to avoid conflicts.

---All the more reason I must go... ---he whispered, tightening his grip on your arm a little.

---That?

---No, no, nothing... ---He lets go of your arm, nervous ---, I just want to make sure you're safe.

---But... I'll be with Barry and Bruce... ---You answer, confused ---Besides...

--- (Name) --- he calls you again, taking you back, now grabbing your arm, --- May I go with you?

You can see that his body acted unconsciously, as if he really needed to accompany you before anything else in the whole world.

"Well...okay." You relent, letting a heavy sigh fall from your lips.

You can see how his attitude and face change, his grip is quickly removed, and a smile appears on his lips.

---Okay --- he whispers.

＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／

You can feel how the tension in the air increases with each second of silence that was between the four of you.

---Uh, well... ---Barry whispers, playing with his hands, before walking next to you ---...It's good that we're together now!

---Yes, thank goodness... ---You whisper, before looking at your best friend ---.., Barry, could you tell me about the nightmare?

Bruce looked at you, you could see a soft smile tugging at his lips, before speaking.

---You didn't tell him anything, Barry? ---Bruce asks, intrigued.

---Eh, no, she doesn't know yet ---The young man answers, before looking at you.

---Know what, exactly? ---Asks Clark, again being serious.

---It's complicated.. ---You whisper, before taking a breath ----.., apparently I had a nightmare, as is recurring, but they're telling me it wasn't!

One of your hands goes to your lips, your nails settling between your teeth, until Barry takes your hand.

---Hey, hey, hey ---He's calling you ---, I know this is all complicated, but for now we're not in danger, so let's sit down and...

You can not just one, but two hands grab Barry's wrist, abruptly pulling his hand away from yours.

---Keep your distance, Barry/kid ---Both Clark and Bruce say at the same time.

The surrealism of the scene, along with the sudden reaction of both of you, surprised both Barry and you.

Barry quickly pushes them away, his tone changing suddenly.

---What's wrong with them? ---Barry asks, confused and frowning.

Neither of us could say anything, because you directly speak louder than usual

---What's wrong with all of you? ---You ask, with anger in your tone---. We can't fight now, especially not over something as small as him grabbing my hand! --- You approach Barry, taking his shoulder ---, don't fight, do you really want to make a scene having, I don't know...? More than 28 years?

After the nightmare that seemed to be real, the display of obvious jealousy on Clark's part, and an obvious attempt at another jealousy scene, you were on the brink of losing your mind.

Clark and Bruce don't act like they used to, where did your kind reporter who was actually one of the strongest superheroes on the face of the earth go? Or your good friend who showed you appreciation very rarely? By whom were they replaced?

You can see that both men stare at you, while Barry tried to calm the situation by talking, positioning himself in front of you. But that only caused the look of both of them... Yanderes to intensify, they will begin to lose patience, as if they were on the verge of taking Barry and... damaging him a little, with their own hands.

You know what I mean, don't you, (Name)?

＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／＼（＠￣∇￣＠）／

I don't give a shit what the world thinks; The Bruce that appears in the last Flash movie is great, or at least I like how the actor looks.

#obsessive love #yandere #yandere male #yandere dc #yandere bruce wayne #two yanderes #dc #clark kent #yandere superman #yandere batman #yandere superhero #yandere x you #yandere one shot

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mrsavery · 2 years

Text

The bullet

Clark Kent/Superman x Reader

REQUEST

Summary: The reader gets injured with a kryptonite bullet, and Clark has no other choice but to take it out himself before she dies.

Warnings: blood, injury, selfless Clark, happy ending.

Words: 2,1k

A/N: DUAL POV

YOU

The day had started great. You had woken up with Clark sleeping next to you, his dark hair sprawled all over the pillow. He needed a trim, and he knew it, but Clark also was too lazy to go to the hairstylist.

He had arrived in the middle of the night, silently climbed into bed and fallen asleep. You pressed a small kiss on his cheek and left the bedroom.

It felt great to finally be able to enjoy a hot shower. Two weeks ago an old pipe in the basement had ruptured, leaving forty flats without hot water. The emergency service was not able to fix the problem sooner because apparently, many apartment complexes had faced the same problem and all needed fixing.

Your favorite strawberry cake was on the counter, wrapped in a beautiful carbon box and tied with a yellow bow. Clark liked to spoil you with sweets from all over the world. Some mornings you would wake up with ice cream melting on the counter since he would be too eager to get to you that he would forget about it. Some morning you would see a box of Belgium chocolate or a bottle of the vine from Italy on the counter.

No matter what he got, you were happier to see him back home in one piece, alive and breathing.

You were in the middle of eating the second piece of your cake when you got a page from work. There had been an accident and there was a shortage of personnel, and your boss had no other choice but to ask you to come in a few hours earlier.

With another kiss on his cheek, you left your shared apartment ten minutes later.

And now, three hours later, you were groaning in pain, as a bullet hit your side, making you collapse on the dirty ground.

“Fuck!” The pain was strong. For a moment your vision got dark, but soon it came back, and the pain got almost unbearable. Blood was running down your side and straining your uniform, and it took a lot for you to sit up.

The bullet had come out of nowhere. You had not heard nor the sound of the shot, nor seen any person. Buildings had collapsed around you, making piles of concrete and metals. In the distance, the sirens of rescue service could be heard, alongside the screams of scared people of Metropolis.

With a hand on your side, you opened your EMS bag and took out clean bandages and medical tape to close the wound before help came. Your ratio had been lost a long time ago. The phones of your collages and yours had been left back in the hospital, and there was no other way how to communicate with them.

Usually, the emergency team stayed together and did not split, including yours. Unfortunately, another building collapsed, splitting all four of you up. You all were imprisoned in your own squares with exits that led farther away from each other.

On your way out of destruction, you had seen Clark flying above and fighting villains from another dimension. He had been too busy to notice you but seeing him being thrown against the building, made your heart beat faster and worry settle in.

Others of the justice league tried helping him, but some of them got thrown against the buildings too. This was officially the most damaging alien invasion this city has seen. Tomorrow’s news headlines would be such as ‘biggest destruction of Metropolis in its history’, ‘collapsed Metropolis’ or ‘how much money is needed to rebuild Metropolis. Not to forget ‘Superman gets thrown against the Williams building’.

“[Y/N]!” You felt Clark before his voice met your ears. You had forgotten that he was somewhere near you. “Fuck! Is this your blood?”

“I got shot.” Speaking was hard. Every word caused more pain than the previous one. When you lifted your uniform, the flow of blood ran down your side. Clark took out the bandages from your arms and pressed them onto the wound. He hissed once his fingers touched it. Then you remembered the collapsing building. “I saw the building collapsing! Are you alright?”

“I’ll live.” He gritted through his teeth. Something was wrong with Clark. He never acted like this, only when he was hurt. With your eyes, you looked over his body but found nothing.

“Are you hurt?” You lifted your arm to touch his cheek, but your limbs felt weak. When you tried again, your vision started to blur, black spots appeared in front of you. These were signs of blood loss, a big blood loss.

You tried fighting your inner voice. It had been what - one, two minutes since you had been shot? The bullet must still be inside, as the blood only came from the front. In most cases, the bullet keeps closed the artery and prevents a person from bleeding out.

Then why were you feeling like you would lose consciousness at any moment?

The black spots got bigger, taking most of your vision. The pain had disappeared at one moment, and slowly you started losing the feeling of your limbs. You felt him shaking your body, lifting you in the air.

You did not want to die like this. You did not want him to see you dying, since it would haunt him for the rest of his life. He was the love of your life, the man you wanted to spend your life it, but the destiny had other plan.

Before the darkness took over, you managed to whisper the words, knowing that it would be the last thing he heard from you.

“I love you…”

CLARK

She was dying.

She had lost too much blood.

Her breathing had become shallower.

Her heart had started beating slower.

She was dying in my arms.

The love of my life was dying in my arms.

And there was no one to save her.

Only me.

“What the hell are you going, Clark?” Bruce’s voice echoed through the empty operation room. I did not spare him a glance, as I continued to prepare everything for the surgery. All instruments had been found and put on the near table, y/n had been covered with a surgical drape, and I had to start any moment.

“Clark.” He put a hand on my shoulder, but I showed it off. No matter what Bruce said, my opinion he could not change.

“Either way you stay and help or leave.” I did not need to say twice. He removed his cape and mask, put on the gloves and came to stand on the other side of the table.

We were the only members of the Justice League on the tower. The rest of the crew were on the earth, fighting aliens that had invaded our home. All hands were needed, and that explained why every single member and inhabitant of this place had been gone.

I did not know much about removing bullets, especially those made of kryptonite, but I had to try. I could not leave the love of my life to die in my arms without me trying anything.

“Have you ever taken out a bullet?” Bruce asked after we had started.

I shook my head. “And you?”

He shook his head.

The bullet was made of kryptonite. I figured it out the moment, I pressed my hands over her torn skin. My head was hurting, and my whole body was hurting, but I had to save her.

I did not care if I died saving her. She would survive and have the life we dreamed about. She would spend it alone, without me by her side. At least, her heart would be beating. She would recover from the loss.

Unlike me.

If I lost her, there would be no longer me. I would die with her and never recover. She was my whole universe, and there was no life without her.

Bruce must have sensed my pain and seen it written all over my face. “Is it what I think it is?”

“It depends,” I said through the pain that got stronger the closer I got to the bullet. “On what you are thinking.”

Before he could say anything, I took out the bullet. It was big, green, perfectly shaped and made from the kryptonite. The bullet shined in the dim light, as I let it fall into the iron bowl.

It was clearly meant for me. But it had hit y/n.

Maybe they knew about her being the woman I wanted to marry and who was my biggest weakness, my whole universe.

With every minute that passed, I felt weaker, I could feel how my muscles started to give up, how my body slowly shut down. Bruce tried taking over, but I did not allow it. Bruce had taken the kryptonite bullet away and carried it as far as he could from me. Little did he know that the damage had already been done.

With my heat vision, I stopped bleeding. While Bruce tried calling others, I continued to close the wound. Sweat was rolling down my face, my body was aching, and no matter what happened - I did not give up.

Ten minutes later I closed the wound and let out the breath I was holding. I sensed Bruce running towards the room with Dr. Choi, but I was too weak to stand up. Before they could open the door, I had already collapsed on the floor and lost consciousness.

Her sleeping face was everything I saw.

YOU

Monitors were beeping around you. Your head was hurting, but the side hurt more. Everything that happened before you lost consciousness, came back like a boomerang. Clark! The building had collapsed. He had found you bleeding. His face showed that he was hurting. You were dying!

You opened your eyes and quickly sat up, causing pain in your whole body. “Easy, [Y/N].” You recognized the voice of Bruce. “Let me help you.”

“Where is Clark?” You asked as he put pillows behind your back, easing your sitting. You had to know if he was alright.

Bruce moved his head to your left, and you gasped when you saw Clark laying in a bed next to you. He was stripped down to his boxers, and lights that reflected the sun were placed around the bed. His skin was absorbing all the light. As a result of that, his skin shined.

“Oh my god, Clark! What happened to him?” You tried getting out of bed, but Bruce’s strong hands on your shoulders did not allow it. He pushed you back in the bed, making your back hit the pillows.

“Do not try getting out unless you want me to chain you to this bed.”

“You would never.”

“I would. Clark will never forgive me if something happened to you.”

“What happened to him?” The man you loved slept a few feet away from you, at an arm's stretch length, but you could not get to him. You wanted to touch his body, whisper that you were near and wait until he opened his eyes. Clark was near you, yet so far away.

Bruce handed you a glass of water and made you take a few sips. “He removed your bullet. It was made of kryptonite.”

Kryptonite could kill Clark, yet he risked his life to save yours. “Is he going to be alright?”

“Both of you will be. I will go and get Dr. Choi. Do not try getting out of bed.”

“I will make sure she stays in hers.” You moved your head as fast, as the first syllables had left this mouth. His blue eyes found yours, and you tried your best to keep the tears from falling. He was awake.

“This also applies to you, Clark.”

He nodded, and then Bruce left the room, leaving the two of you alone.

His eyes never left yours. “How are you?”

“How are you? You could have died!” You almost shouted.

“So could you.”

“But I did not.”

“Neither did I.”

The small banter made both of you smile. Clark and you were two stubborn souls who always cared more about the other one rather than yourselves.

But the truth was still truth. “You are an idiot. Why did you take that bullet out yourself?”

Clark rolled his eyes and sat up. “There was no other who could do it. I did not want to lose you.”

“Dr. Choi would have saved me.”

“Not fast enough. He was not here when we arrived.” Clark stood up from his bed and walked towards you. “Move over.”

“You shouldn’t be out of bed.” You reminded him, as you moved in the bed, making a room for the big man you called yours. Your body felt small, compared to his.

Clark wrapped his strong arms around your body carefully, trying not to cause more pain, tore your stitches or pull off the catheter in your arm. “I am not. I just changed it.”

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss on your head and snuggled closer to your body. Feeling his heart beating under your palms calmed you, and you closed your eyes knowing that he was alive and safe.

“I love you too. But, please, do not do it again."

#clark kent x reader #superman x reader #clark kent #superman #clark kent fanfiction #superman fanfiction #henry cavill superman #henry cavill #henry cavill au #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill one shot #henry cavill imagine #justice league #superman x you #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman x y/n #henry cavill x y/n

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kryptonian-bat-thing · 4 months

Text

Batman investigates Clark Kent's love life

a fic i wrote when I was bored

Superman lands on the tip of his toes, feeling a chill as he walks further into the Batcave. He shakes it off and plays confident, puffing out the S on his chest.

The Dark Knight had been up to some investigations, he was aware, but he had not expected to see Bruce Wayne showing up to his work place like he did earlier on the day. Well, it had happened before... But not without a warning or something. He usually came to him and Lois, or even Cat, whom he knew from interviews at galas and balls, to look further into evidence that might help Batman out in a case. However, this time, Bruce didn't seem to be up to corporate work, he just did some chit chat around and left as though his job was to listen to reporter gossip all day, even though he wasn't even in his city.

Clark wouldn't admit it, but he had a curious nature. So when he stopped his steps a few feet away from the figure standing in front of the many monitors showing the stats of Gotham City, he made it clear that he wanted answers.

He didn't even call out for his friend, Bruce somehow always knew when he was around. He couldn't listen to heartbeats nor notice subtle changes in the temperature or in the light like Clark did, but the man was no less impressive than himself.

"I suppose you're here to know about my visit." Gloved fingers keep typing on the keyboard as the hoarse voice says neutrally. Most likely a report, due to the late hour, it was practically dawn when Batman finished his patrol on average days. Clark tried to hold an awkward smile and failed.

"You didn't even stop by my desk this time. Or Lois's." The Man of Steel lifts a hand to his hip, as the cowled man sighs, annoyed. Taking a step back from the blue lights on the screen, Batman's hand reaches for the mask on his face, pulling it upwards and leaving it hanging under his nape like a hood. His hair was clearly messy for being under it for so long, and the sweat droplets were very noticeable, but Clark couldn't help but find the image appealing.

This was the man who protected the innocent, who fought the corrupt, who got beaten down several times but still got up with strength to try again. The man who turned his own tragedy into his greatest weapon, his pain into hope. The amount of respect he had for him was unmeasurable, and he knew that the feeling was reciprocal.

Bruce looked at Superman's eyes, ever so shiny and blue like a sapphire, and... Was that a blush? Clark wouldn't say so, Batman knew better than to let his emotions come up like that. Bruce's cheeks moved as he avoided his best friend's eyes, before finally finding the words to say so:

"I wanted to know your sexuality." The answer comes out like a whisper. The image of the Man of Steel tumbled to the ground and the shy Kansas boy rose along with a red flush all over his face.

"Yawantedtoknowmahwhatnow?!" He mutters loudly, spilling words. Bruce frowns and sighs louder than the last time. He was not about to repeat himself to the man with super hearing.

"I had my reasons, Kent. The file I have on the Justice League and the many Earth metahumans has a vast collection of information in which--" Bruce trailed off, his Bat mode activated to explain the situation, but Clark let out a silly scoff.

"You could've just asked me, B."

Bruce feels his head fall out of his shoulders. Of course he had thought of that, he wasn't so stupid, but the idea of coming up to the best man he knew to ask such a trivial question, for reasons he still tried to convince himself were purely professional... He hid it with his emotionless face, but the quick twitch of his eyes alerted Clark of the feeling anyway. Years of friendship got them knowing almost everything that went through each other.

And so, that and many other questions were answered that night, as the morning sun came up and a new perspective of these two individuals rose as well.

#yes the ending is left to interpretation #dc comics #dc #batman #superman #bruce wayne is bad at communicating #clark kent #bruce wayne #superbat #bruce x clark #clark x bruce #clark kent is a dork #one shot #mini fic #crackship #a bit of fluff if you squint

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manufactured-pleasantry · 7 months

Text

Bruce and Clark are stargazing atop Wayne Manor despite Alfred's orders for Bruce to remain in bed. They're silent as they climb onto the roof and exchange smiles like schoolboys breaking curfew.

It's quiet up there. The city lights in the distance sparkle like the stars above them. Beauty surrounds them and Bruce finds some semblance of peace in this bubble they've made for themselves. He could feel the warmth of Clark's shoulder touching his and hear his slow breathing. It feels like it's just the two of them in the world. Bruce wonders if it's like that for Clark too or if the world was just constantly screaming at him, begging for his help. He wonders if Clark could only dream of peace in death.

"Do you think you could ever find peace in death?" Bruce asks instead. It sounds kinder.

Clark looks away from the starry sky and stares at Bruce instead. There's a soft smile on his face. Bruce thinks he'll rather gaze at that than the stars in the sky but Clark turns back to the stars and Bruce does too. They are stargazing after all.

"Sometimes I think about how I would like to die and it brings me peace. Is that weird?"

"No." Bruce does the same. He adds, "How would you like to die?"

In a blaze of glory, perhaps, saving the world from certain doom. It was a likely scenario and there was a level of satisfaction from saving people even with one's last breath. But the Clark he knows is always fighting for life, he would always try to survive. So... quietly, in old age, surrounded by all his loved ones. It is a very Clark-like scene to envision.

"I would like to perish amongst the stars. To freeze in the cold expanse of space or burn in the face of the sun. To return from whence I come from..." Clark laughs and rubs the back of his head. He's looking at Bruce again and there's a soft glow about him more radiant than the stars. "It's silly, isn't it? I've been to outer space many times without freezing or burning to death but, well, it's just something I've thought about."

"Don't be silly, Clark."

"What?" Clark almost looks hurt.

"You're a child of Earth. We've claimed you. What do you mean return from whence you come from?" Bruce grumbles. He tries to hide his face from Clark and looks to Gotham instead.

Clark laughs and it tickles something within Bruce. "Haven't you heard, Bruce? We're all made of space dust."

Bruce gains the courage to face Clark again and stops fighting against the twitching curve of his mouth. "I'll be sure to tell Dick to shatter our ashes in space after we die."

Clark's laughter grows in loudness. "What? You're not going to do it yourself? And our ashes would be shattered together?"

Bruce snorts. "Given how often we almost die together, I'd say it would be nigh impossible to cremate us separately."

"Yeah?" Clark's laugh softens into chuckles until they're so quiet Bruce has to lean in to hear them. He isn't the one to lean in. Clark is. "I wouldn't be opposed to being buried together either."

"That-" Bruce's breath hitches. He wonders if Clark could feel it. They were practically sharing it after all- "would be nice."

Clark closes the distance and Bruce thinks that this is peace too.

#superbat #clark kent #bruce wayne #stargazing #soft clark kent #soft bruce wayne #first kiss #friends to lovers #minific #drabble #one shot #fun fact: my ao3 name 'SolaceInSpace' came from me daydreaming about how peaceful it would be to quietly die in space #realistically it would be painful but the idea of it is oddly calming #kind of like sinking to the bottom of the ocean

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sbd-laytall · 1 month

Text

They're so domestic, I can't handle it.

The Incredible Hulk vs. Superman (1999) #1

#they're so cute they're gonna give me cavities just watching them #like that cheek kiss is going to ruin me I swear #clois #lois lane #clark kent #superman #the incredible hulk vs superman #dc comics #marvel #marvel comics #one shot #my post

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 2 years

Text

A marriage of inconvenience

Warnings: this fic includes dark content including rape/noncon, marital discord/neglect, cheating, and other potential triggering elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You get a rare chance at respite from your icy marriage, but can you handle the heat? (Regency AU)

Characters: Clark Kent, Bruce Wayne

Note: You can imagine any Bruce you want. I hate Affleck so I went for Christian Bale in my head but to each their own. I pictured Cavill because uhhhh yes, but hey if you wanna go with Brandon Routh that’s chill af, or Tom Welling.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. Thanks to everyone who reads this one and thank you for all your energy.<3

Love you all like Humpty Dumpty love falling off walls. Take care. 💖

When you wed Lord Wayne, your mother warned you it would not be a happy marriage but an adequate one. No woman of worth marries a man she loves, but one who offers a title and wealth. Wayne has both in heaps but you could not balance it with his coldness. The price of his indifference could not be recompensed.

Two years and you cannot bear the frozen silences, averted eyes, and withdrawn touches. To him, as for you, it's duty, not that you don't want it to be more. Even when he shares your bed, it is business to him, another transaction. Those times he's come to tend his obligations are as many as you can count on your fingers. He leaves you vacant and void.

There is little to comfort you. He is not a social creature, though it is rumored that once he was. The maids whisper of a former love with which all warmth died. A place you cannot fill, expectation you can never meet.

Even as the season stirs society, he is not bothered to attend more than his office, or host other men in discussions of commerce within the privacy of his study.

You are not permitted to attend tea as you have no escort and he would not think to entertain the folly of the court. No theatre, no promenade, no waltzes, no companions. Just you and the empty halls and this empty lord.

You spend your days in the meadow of his country home or on the balcony of his city estate. You read, you embroidered, you even think to help the servants in their daily toil. You sometimes think you may have been happier as one of them.

That day, you see him in the courtyard. A carriage is permitted past the gates. You hear there is a fall festival to be hosted by the royal couple, you dream of it as his figure moves at the peripheral of your fantasies. Your eyes focus as the blue vehicle approaches down the stones and the groom halts the horses, hopping down to open the door.

It is Lord Kent. You know his crest, you know the slant of his jaw. You see him now and again though he often leaves your husband irritated. Yet he is too prominent to turn away, too esteemed to offend.

Your husband peers up and sees you in the window, his squint assuring you of his notice. You give a guilty smile and back away.

You descend to the main foyer as the men enter. Your husband scowls behind his visitor as Lord Kent gives a gasp at your appearance. You wear a plain gown of cotton decorated with beaded roses. It is hardly fit for a ball.

"The Lady Wayne," Kent greets in his boisterous way as you come to greet him. He takes your gloved hand and kisses the single ring, your wedding band. "How pleasant it is to see you. Your husband does insist on hiding you away."

"Wife," Wayne intones as he plays with the knot at his throat, "we have a guest, should you not have tea laid out for him already?"

Surprised, you wince. Usually, he is keen to retreat to his study with his fellow lords, speaking swiftly and dismissing them just as curtly. You bow your head and fold your hands permissively.

"Apologies, husband, I was not thinking, let me have Emma bring a tray."

"We will be in the sunroom," Wayne cuts off your last word.

"Yes, husband," you smile stiffly and your eyes meet Kent's again as he gives a lingering look. "My lords."

You find Emma in the kitchen and have her put on a kettle as you help put together a plate of pastries. The younger maid, Ester, puts out the tea pot with cups and saucer neatly beside the dish of desserts. You're anxious as they steep the tea, your husband's remonstrance still nipping at your neck. Is there ever anything you do that doesn't displease him? The best you can hope for is indifference.

Ester follows you out with the tray and you enter the sunroom as the men chatter. You present your offerings and Kent smiles as he sits forward. Your husband makes no move to indulge as his guest takes a cherry tart and bites into it.

"You have a marvelous cook," he says as he swallows and you hover, Ester dismissed by a flick of Wayne's fingers.

"I made the cherry myself, Emma however prepared the rest."

"You bake? A duchess in a kitchen? How quaint."

"Mmm," Wayne drones, "I do recommend she spends more time in the library."

"She spends enough time sitting around on your whim," Kent counters, "my lady," he stands, "please sit with us."

"Kent," Wayne warns.

"I was unaware you ran a convent," he japes, "I hardly know your wife, you would think she's a ghost."

Wayne looks away as you sit on the unclaimed settee. Kent realises his mistake as he summons the memory of your husband's former amour; his true love.

"Perhaps, if you should permit it, my lord," Kent begins carefully, "I might have Lady Kent visit with your wife once she has recovered from her labour. Thus, they can entertain each other."

"If it is what you desire."

Your husband's dull response is as good as a no. You look down at your lap sullenly. Not even permitted a lady friend in your solace. You do not understand why he punishes you when all you've even tried to do, all you've ever wanted is to please him.

"She might share some words of wisdom with her. On the matter of wifery and motherhood. Any day now I'm certain you should be expecting a little heir to fill these dour halls with laughter."

"God will it," Wayne declares, no mention of his neglect which would as good as spoil any divine will.

"There is a festival, for the final harvest," Kent easily diverts.

"As there is one every other week," your husband rebuffs.

"You cannot act a hermit forever. It is noted, no one wants to deal with a malcontent, whether in office or otherwise."

"I am not one for those events."

"You once were," Kent remarks.

"Unlike you, I've matured."

"And what of you, lady? Do you fancy the festival? Perhaps a twirl when the band breaks out?"

Wayne sighs but says nothing.

"It sounds... intriguing but I will at home tending to my work here."

"One night, of five, does that seem very much, my lord? Your wife is young, let her enjoy something more than these walls."

"My wife. Be certain to recall that."

"You too."

Their eyes meet in a startling confrontation. Silent and stolid. You bat your lashes.

"Lord Kent, it is kind of you to suggest it but I--"

"If she can find a proper escort, she may go. Without me."

Your breath hitches. It might not be perfect, but it is more than you can hope for. Backhanded at best but something. That is, if you could ever find an escort. Wayne will not permit his groom to accompany you.

"She has a proper escort. Me." Kent announces.

Wayne scoffs as your mouth falls open.

"I am a married man, she is a married woman. There is nothing untowards so I might accompany her in your place, dear husband."

"May I?" you breathe as you glance at your husband. He's grim, pale.

"If you must," he throws a hand up.

You wince and try not to wilt. You want so badly to go. Anywhere.

"Do not be so cruel to her," Kent admonishes, "you have every ability to take her yourself."

"She has no place at parties with those gossiping geese. Wasted time spent on costuming and comedy."

"Better spent rotting away in misery."

"Enough. Before I rescind my decision. Wife, you may go so we can discuss the matter he came for."

"Yes, husband," you say perilously, afraid to spoil your one chance at liberty.

"Thank you, my lady. Might I ask if it's possible to have some of these packed up to take with me? Without Lois around, I fear my staff is aimless."

"Yes, my lord, I will have Ester do so. Good day."

"Good day. I will see you again. For the festival."

"Thank you," you smile.

"Go," Wayne insists.

You obey. A good wife to a mean husband.

💔

The day of the festival comes and your husband does not appear. He slept in his study, as is common, and did not sit to break his fast. You sense the tension but cannot discern it from that which endlessly plagues your home.

Ester helps you ready, a dress of lilac with a matching ribbon on your cap. You almost send a message to Lord Kent to go alone as you see your reflection. Your gown must be out of style, the jacket too. How can you face society knowing they will all whisper of the elusive Lady Wayne.

No, you must go. If you do not, you fear for your sanity.

Ester and Emma bid you farewell as the carriage approaches. A groom, Marshall, guides you down the steps. You don't dare mention your husband nor do they.

"My lady," Lord Kent hops down without assistance to greet you, "and where is your husband to wistfully see you off?"

You try not to frown, your lips quiver but you force a full smile.

"He is at his business," you reply, "thank you, my lord, for this favour."

"Favour? It is a good deed you do for me, you see? For I have been lonesome since my wife has gone into her reprieve for her labour and her recovery does keep her in the country."

"I am most excited for the festival."

"As am I, I'm so happy you could come, yet your husband does continue to hide away."

You hide your face behind the brim of your cap, "shall we go? I don't want to miss anything."

"And I should hate to keep you from it," he offers his hand, "allow me, we do not want you to soil your skirts."

He guides you to the step his driver sets before the door and you climb into the vehicle with your head low. The benches are cushioned, the curtains drawn up to look out, and the smell of sandalwood that clings to him feels the small space.

He follows and sits across from you. The door shuts and you wait and listen to the driver prepare for the journey into the city.

"I assume the lord was in a gray mood," he prompts.

You trace the seam of your glove, "I did not see him this morning. He is ever occupied."

"With a wife like you, how is that?"

Your cheeks warm and you look out the window, "my lord."

"Flattery I admit but no less true."

"You must miss your wife," you redirect, a trick your husband uses very much.

"I do," he touches his chest and your throat tightens. How does Wayne speak of you? Is he ever anything but unimpressed?

"Your husband is equally as fortunate, if only he could see."

"He is a good man," you say reflexively. You're not sure you believe it yourself.

"Every man has his flaws, good or bad as he is."

"Please, sir," you squirm, "it is only he is not an outward man, but he is my husband and he keeps me in comfort."

"Some comfort," he comments.

"Do you think they will have acrobats? When I was a child, we went to a festival with them and I always thought them rather amusing."

"They should," he pushes his broad shoulders back, he is a large man, he could be a strongman at one of the fairs held for peasants.

"Wonderful," your eyes skirt through the window once more, "I always though the land so beautiful."

"Very beautiful," he agrees, but he's not looking at the hills.

💔

Long silk streamers wrapped around and waving from tall poles greet your arrival. The promenade is vibrant with satins, brocades, and muslins as society mills between booths of jewelry and other ornaments, archers, riders doing tricks on horsebacks, and minstrels singing tales of faraway lands.

You step down from the carriage and Lord Kent takes you on his arm. A familiar face smiles from across the archway decorated in welcome of the attendees. Lady Mariette smiles and gives a small wave, her husband trying to draw her attention to a pipe for sale. You return the gesture as your ushered onward.

You feel a stranger, surprised any would recognise the debutante now locked away. You don't know that it would be any worse if they didn't.

You stop to admire a comb, your purse light enough that you talk yourself out of the purchase. Your husband is as tight-fisted as he is close-lipped. You give a smile and leave it, ready to walk away until Kent draws you back.

"How much?" he holds the mother-of-pearl comb as he talks to the vendor.

The price is as steep as you predicted but he sees no issue. He pays as you blush and clutch your cheeks beneath your gloves. He offers the gifts as you roll your eyes against the tears. You shouldn't be so overwhelmed by the simple present.

"My lord, you truly do not need to. Please, keep it for your wife."

"It is yours," he takes your hand and presses the comb into it, "call me Clark for the day, lady."

You look down at the comb and turn it over, "thank you, Clark."

"My pleasure," he nudges your elbow and continues on, "look!"

He waves ahead to the bodies jumping and spinning from platforms, landing on their feet only to bend over backwards and touch the ground, legs cartwheeling, arms contorting. You can't help the bounce in your gait as you hurry over to watch.

"Oh my!" you gasp at a particularly perilous flip and giggle.

Clark peeks at you as his movement draws your eyes. His gaze glimmers as his lips curve.

"Why do you smirk so, my--Clark?"

"Because, you wear a true smile for once."

💔

As the evening dims around you, the festival blazes on beneath glass orbs lit with flames and torches licking from the poles above. The tents beckon you into wonders of the mysterious and miraculous. A sliver of the holy cross, maps of a land you'll never see, seers and their cards.

You weave in and out until you come across the players before a backdrop of painted canvas, acting out a Shakespearian comedy in horsehair wigs and loose bodices. The crowd gives a ribald guffaw as they stand sit to watch. You lose yourself in the scene, the humour tickling you after so long in sober solace.

"There," Clark whispers and directs you to a bench newly vacated.

You sit with him, his leg against yours, the shadows dark around you as the lights float over the stage and leave the audience shrouded. His shoulder is flush behind your arm as you keep your chin up to watch the figures, voices carrying above the hue from the tents.

You grip the edge of the bench and giggle. His hand lightly brushes your skirts and rests on your leg. You don't think much of it, perhaps he thinks you might fall in your trance.

You keep your attention on the low stage as his fingers move further, startling you as they push into the vee between your legs. You catch his wrist and gasp. He hushes in your ear as he wiggles you away.

"My lord," you hiss.

"Lady, it would be untoward to be caught in such a position," he drawls lowly, "with a man not your husband."

You gulp in shock as he forces his entire hand between your legs, curling his fingers as he rubs your through the layer gruffly. You blink as your vision blurs. You think of Bruce and his harsh night time visits. They always leave you tender.

"You have a wife," you whimper and bite your lip.

"She is away and I grow lonely," he purrs.

He turns and cups his hand over your mouth, his scent permeating your nostrils as he holds you to him and rocks his hand. The pressure of his touch, the clustered fabric, builds and a peculiar sensation tingles along your folds.

You exhale sharply over his knuckles and latch onto his wrist, eyes widening as his hand shakes your entire body. You glance around without turning your head, the crowd roars as the actors continue their show.

Your heart pounds, a throbbing that scares you more than the grasp of the man inspiring it. You squeak, the noise muffled as your thighs tense and burn. You sink your nails into his sleeve as a swell of the unknown pulsing overcomes you and shatters your resolve. You spasm and shudder until it dissipates, relenting with the slowing of his hand.

It should feel wrong, but it doesn't.

💔

Your day out ends in confusion. The stimulation of the festival has you off-kilter as the phantom of Clark’s unwarranted touch haunts you. He shouldn’t have done that, yet he is completely unaffected, almost reassured by the act as he takes you by the arm and ushers you through the crowd.

Old faces and new, stop to greet you; barons, earls, even the king and queen, though you’d never met them, never anything more than the formal welcome upon your debut in society. Clark knows them well it seems. There is much you do not know nor expect of him.

You are almost relieved as you see the carriage along the row awaiting the departing lords and ladies. You wait at his side, quiet as you can’t stop fidgeting. Perhaps it is you. Perhaps that odd feeling was your doing; perhaps it is you that was untoward.

The lord Kent once more assists you in ahead of him but this time as the door closes, you feel trapped. It isn’t even your pending return to your husband’s wardenship, it’s that tight hot space with this man, the only man who’s ever made you feel sinful.

He lights the lantern hung from the carriage wall and sits back. The small glow of light gives sinister shadows to his angular jaw and long nose, his lips seem to slant in unspoken mischief. Or it is all your imagination?

You watch the moon, a sliver in the sky among the distant twinkling stars. The night seems impenetrably dark. You yawn behind your gloves before letting your hand fall to wring the trim of your jacket.

The carriage turns and you think it’s the wrong way. You’ve never been good with direction and the streets are obscured with the late hour. You swallow as you peek over at Clark. He is hidden in the shadows but he looks your way.

“Lady, you must be eager to return to your husband.”

“Yes, very much, I shall give him the snuff box I picked out for him so that he does not feel excluded.”

“Your husband? Ha. He is ever affronted.”

“But he is my husband,” you insist, “it is my duty to take care of him.”

“And does he take care of you?”

“We have a grand estate–”

“I do not mean houses or dresses or coin,” he interjects, “I mean does he hold you? Kiss you? Take you in his arms and express his love for you?”

You exhale and turn back to the window, “it is improper to speak of those things.”

“And it is poisonous to hold in such grief.”

“Please, my lord, I fear I’ve made a great mistake accompanying you this night. I should return to my husband and remain within his bounds.”

“You did not enjoy it?”

“The festival? Very much–”

“You know of what I speak.”

Silence. Shameful, confession without words.

“Did it not delight you?”

“My lord, please, we are married.”

“And lonely.”

“Yes, but it is wrong regardless.”

He tilts his chin up and takes a deep breath. He raises his fist and hits the roof of the carriage. It grinds to a stop. You peer out but see nothing by a dark expanse of tall grass.

“Where are we?”

The driver climbs down and lights his pipe, listless, he wanders away. The horses knicker as you slide forward and reach for the door.

“Where is he going–”

Clark stops you, urging you back to the bench, your back to the wall. You go rigid as he kneels before you, his hands on your arms as he gazes up at you.

“No–” You push his hands away, “take me home.”

“To a man who refuses to love you?”

“Lady Kent–”

“Needn’t know. Lady, I only long to give you what you deserve. I see your sadness and it does pierce my heart. A woman so beautiful–”

“I can’t–”

“And loyal without cause–”

“Please–”

“And virtuous to a fault.”

You sniff as your eyes gloss over. How easily he sees your weakness, your desperation. And how you cannot deny it.

“When I touched you, did it not feel good?”

“It shouldn’t–”

“But it did.”

You clamp your lips shut and look away. You nod.

His hands fall to your skirts, he tugs at them as he shifts his knees off the hem. You try to shove the fabric back down as he lifts it but he is insistent and unyielding. Your stockings are revealed, the bright pink you never wore for you never had any occasion, and the air brushes over your naked thighs. You squeak.

“Please–”

“Tell me, has he ever even shown you affection?”

“I cannot speak of him any longer,” you heave.

His hands crawl over your knees and play with the top of your stockings. You close your eyes and shrink against the wall, fingers curled into the cushion beneath you. You should stop him, shouldn’t you?

He kneads your thighs, fingers pressing into your tender flesh, sending a thrill through you. You let out a moan, clapping your hand over your mouth as he pulls your skirts over his head. You whimper in entranced horror.

His lips tickle your cunt and bite the side of your hand. His tongue elicits a cold ripple in your core and has you writhing. He nuzzles you deeper, delving into you without shame.

You pant as heat pools inside of you, meeting the coolness of his lapping. You could never fathom a man putting his mouth there.

You groan and quiver. You slap your hand down on the seat as your heels hit the bench. Your hips roll into him, begging for more as you can’t articulate the same plea aloud. You unravel completely as the tension releases and you kick out as a violent tide sweeps you up, a shrill whine filling the carriage.

He drags his tongue along the crease of your leg and nips you softly. You cry out again and he pulls his head from beneath your skirts, curls askew as he licks his lips. He grabs your hips and slides you off the seat, drawing you down atop as your crushed between him and the bench.

You bend your arms on top of the bench as his hand dives into the bundle of fabric and he lifts himself on his knees. He plucks open his trousers as he growls and quickly pulls you against him, an arm snaking around you to rest on the seat. His other hand guides his tip along your folds as he pokes searchingly.

He lowers you onto him, sinking until he shudders. Your head hangs back as you walls cling to him. Never have you felt so full, overflowing. You reach blindly to his jacket, grasping the sleeve as he tilts you in his lap, burying his face in your neck as he grunts.

“So precious,” he hums against your skin.

You murmur senselessly as your head lolls and he gropes your chest through your bodice. Your breath mingles as he works your body against his, your hips following his rhythm as the world drops away. It’s just that moment, the furor, the fire, unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

His thumb flicks over your bud and you squeal. A few swirls and you’re quaking again, cumming as you hug him to you, fingers twining into his dark hair.

He pushes you back, the seat digging into your shoulders as he grips the edge and pounds into you. So hard and unrestrained your legs bounce around him, folded over his waist as he ruts wildly. Your fingers hook between the buttons of his jacket as you grit your teeth and whine, flesh clapping as fabric chafes between you.

“I–” he hisses into a grunt and slams against you.

He pins you against the bench as he rides out his climax, hard and rough, your hips aching from the force of his desire. He slows, strangled groans escaping him as finally he lets your rest against the bench, legs splayed over his.

He sighs and slips out of you. His seed leaks out onto the floor as he backs up and your skirts droop around your thighs. You sit dumbfounded as you shake. He fixes his trousers and his jacket, smoothing his hair.

“Get up,” he says curtly, “your husband awaits.”

#clark kent #bruce wayne #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #fic #dark fic #one shot #bruce wayne x reader #dark!fic #au #regency au #dcu #dc #superman #batman

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soupsandstars · 1 year

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Been watching Superman and Lois and wanted to sketch them out really quick

#Superman #Clark Kent #Lois Lane #shake things up a little #also I finished thumbnailing/finalizing the last two requests #I'm really excited about some of the shots #I've only done camera rotations like #twice?#but this ones going to have a few more moving parts to it

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imyourbratzdoll · 1 year

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clark kent x reader sex pollen… now that’s a smut I’d love to read 🥵

hey honey, sorry for taking so long! I apologise for how short it is!

summary - you and clark go on a mission, and something goes wrong.

warning - smut, dubcon, slut, sex pollen, creampie.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

The mission had gone sideways. You and Clark weren’t expecting it. The moment he entered a room, it exploded with purplish powder. He stumbled back, repeating something along the lines of burning up and that you need to stay back. But you couldn’t let something happen to him, not knowing that the way your suit hugged your figure was causing him to become feral, his cock hardening beneath his suit.

“Y/n, you need to leave now!” His back hit the wall, causing a man-shaped dent to take place. Clark’s skin began to sweat, and grunts and groans fell from his mouth. His eyes squeezed shut, not being able to look at you. He could feel his cock straining against his suit, feeling ashamed with the thoughts entering his mind.

You move closer to him, gently resting your hand on his arm. “Clark, what’s wrong? Is there anything I can do to help?” You didn’t want to push, but you hated seeing him in pain. It was unusual for Clark to feel pain. “I’ll do anything.”

Those words were like music to his ears. The next thing you know, you are bent over, and your suit is ripped with his massive member plunging in and out of your sopping cunt. Your eyes roll to the back of your head. Never had you experienced something so large before. You clutched the table beneath you, moaning as he continued to split you in half. Clark gripped your hips, holding you tightly against him as he thrusts deeper. “You wanted to help. You said you’d do anything.” He growls, feeling his cock throb with how your walls squeeze him and the look of pure bliss on your face. His hand moves between the two of you, beginning to play with your puffy clit and grunts when you squeeze him.

“Umpf, gonna cum! Please!” You scream, thrashing around as he hits deeper inside of you, pulling your orgasm out of you. His pace picks up as your juices squirt out and cover the alien.

“Slut.” Clark leans down, burying himself deeper inside you before groaning as thick amounts of cum spurt out of his throbbing tip and deep inside you. When you both begin to catch your breath and Clark blinks, he quickly moves away. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I don’t know what came over me!” Guilt washes over him as he stares down at your unmoving form.

“Is okay. Feel good, all tingly.” You mumble into the table, still able to feel him stretching you open as his cum leaks out of your abused hole.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

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darkmasterlistyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

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Masterlist Update October 23/22

Series

Little Lies (Loki, MCU)

Campus AU (Multifandom)

Zero Day (Lloyd Hansen, The Grey Man)

Hopelessly Devoted (Andy Barber, Defending Jacob)

Crown of Thorns (Bucky Barnes, MCU, Medieval AU)

A marriage of inconvenience (Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, DC, Regency AU)

Safe House (Sierra Six, Lloyd Hansen, The Grey Man)

Of Particular Tastes (Raymond Smith, The Gentlemen)

Paper Doll (skinny!Steve Rogers, MCU)

Made for Him (Peter Parker, MCU, Frankenstein AU)

Cabin Fever (Bucky Barnes, MCU)

One Shots

Black is the Cloth (demon!priest!Bucky Barnes, MCU)

Appetite for Destruction (Bucky Barnes, MCU)

A Birthday to Remember (Steve Rogers, MCU)

Royal Treatment (Frank Castle, The Punisher, MCU)

Idle Hands (Loki, MCU)

Merciless (Steve Rogers, MCU, Medieval AU)

Tempestuous (Jaime Lannister, Game of Thrones)

#steve rogers #bucky barnes #andy barber #frank castle #peter parker #masterlist update #raymond smith #bruce wayne #clark kent #lloyd hansen #sierra six #loki #au #series #one shot #masterlist

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all-i-do-is-live-in-daydreams · 9 months

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I absolutely adore clark omg. so excited at the prospect of working with his crush (*ahem* the love of his life), lois, that he completely blanks over her trying (very obviously and persistently) to get clark and superman in the same room together.

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francis-ford-kofola · 8 months

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Archiving deleted scenes from Superman (1978) (4/?)

#another super long post #this one was just after the helicopter & catching random criminals sequence #i like it #it's touching and it explicitly states why he doesn't reveal himself #superman 1978 #christopher reeve #marlon brando #clark kent #jor el #deleted scenes posting #also not to be a cynic but alexander salkind and the studio paid marlon brando 3 million dollars for 15 minutes and then cut 3 minutes out?#that's not very cash money of them #btw there are So. Many. establishing shots of the fortress of solitude in the extended version. stop it.

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garciaasfluffypen · 10 months

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the day lena met kara

word count: 1.1k pairing: autistic!kara danvers x lena luthor warnings: none :) this is just pure fluff.

a/n: okay so i’ve had a fic that i’ve left untouched for YEARS because people shitted and farted on me for how i wrote my autistic!kara at the time ( full transparency, i literally haven’t touched this google doc since 2017 ). granted, i now have many years of working with both autistic adults and children under my belt and i’m also now 23 so i’d like to think my writing has improved LMAO. so instead of reuploading it as a fic, i decided i’d take some of the moments and make them into one shots and do a little mini series maybe if y’all like it?

DISCLAIMER: NOT ALL AUTISM IS THE SAME. THERE ARE DIFFERING LEVELS OF FUNCTIONALITY PER HUMAN. YOU MAY NOT LIKE MY WRITING BUT DON’T SHIT ON ME FOR HOW I PORTRAY THIS VERSION OF KARA. I’M GOING BASED OFF OF WHAT I KNOW AS SOMEONE WHO’S WORKED WITH HUMANS WITH AUTISM FOR 13 YEARS.

it was a beautiful, partly cloudy day when they first met. kara remembers the day perfectly. it was overcast- some of her favorite days. while she always felt less strong on overcast days, kara found herself feeling quite content on those days. it could be because the sun wasn’t blinding her every time she looked out her window, or the fact that there was typically a light breeze that wound its way through the city on those days, making it feel more and more like spring time.

the sun slowly found its way into kara’s bedroom, slowly inching its way across her bed. she knew the exact reason she was up as early as she was- she was interviewing lena luthor today. her boss, snapper, had asked her to write an article on the young businesswoman, highlghting the steps that she was taking to reclaim the luthor name when it came to L-Corp. she could feel her anxiety bubbling at the surface, her gaze drifting to the floor as the sun sneaked its way closer to the bed. she liked watching the sun. the way it made the same pattern on the floor every morning was always predictable. the floorboards would get just warm enough for her feet so she didn’t have to wear socks to bed. it was nice. it was routine.

a small shuffling came from her kitchen, reminding kara that her cousin clark had slept on the couch last night to ensure she didn’t feel alone going into her meeting with lena today. she loved clark with her whole heart- he had always gone above and beyond for her. including driving all the way from metropolis.

“good morning, kara.”

kara bounded into her kitchen, smiling at her cousin. “hi clark!”

“i made you your favorite pancakes.”

“really?” kara’s eyes widened. “you made me my pancakes?”

“i did.” clark pushed a plate over towards her, the syrup kara liked following seconds later. “you need to eat a good breakfast, you have your interview with lena today.”

kara looked down at her plate as she felt her face get redder, suddenly finding a small crack in her table more interesting than anything else in the room. “yeah.”

“are you excited?” she could hear the concern in his voice.

“yeah.”

“are you sure?” clark looked over to kara, concerned. “do you feel uncomfortable?”

“no…”

“kara, are you sure you want to do this?”

“of course i do!” Kara’s head snapped up. “i want to be a reporter, clark. i have to go with you and work on this story if i want to be a reporter. i can’t do a story and not interview people. that’s not right.”

“right. but if you feel uncomfortable, let me know and we can leave whenever you want to, okay?” kara nodded. “and remember, you can not say that you’re supergirl.”

“why?”

“it’s our secret, remember?”

“oh yeah! it’s a secret!” kara placed her finger on her lips, almost as if to tell herself not to say anything. “you can’t tell anyone my secret clark! alex won’t be happy.”

“that’s right. it’s our little secret, okay?”

“okay!”

-----

kara’s arm was wrapped around clark’s forearm as they walked over towards L-Corp. she was nervous. kara wasn’t one for social interaction with people whom she didn’t know from her childhood. when she wasn’t supergirl, she always stayed to the back and let alex or clark do all the talking. but she was going to be a reporter, and she had to learn how to talk to people. this interview was the perfect opportunity. she was going to meet one of the most famous people in national city and write a story about her. of course, she didn’t expect to get published right away, it was going to be her first article, but it was going to be her first story and she was more focused on getting it written than getting it published. she needed to make sure it was perfect, and clark was there to help her.

kara heard a mumbled sentence come from clark, and she could only find the courage to nod as clark opened the door for her, waiting for her to go inside. kara took a few steps in and waited for clark, not wanting to go any farther without him. when he got inside, kara found her way back to his side and clutched onto his shirt sleeve as they walked over to the circulation desk. kara looked down as she waited for clark to be done talking to the lady before they went to the elevator. she waited until the door closed to plug her ears, trying to stop them from popping- she hated when her ears popped in elevators. soon as the door opened kara could feel herself getting more scared, and looked over to clark. he held out a hand and let kara take it, walking out of the elevator before signaling to her to take a deep breath. once she was ready, the secretary opened the door to lena’s office and let them in.

“clark, what a pleasure.”

“same to you, lena.” clark nodded his head slightly, trying to nudge kara forward at the same time.

“and who might this be?”

“this is my cousin, kara danvers.”

“hi kara.” lena started talking in a quieter tone, sensing her nervousness. “i’m lena.”

“kara is autistic, so she’s a little shy.”

“i’m so not shy!” kara huffed, scrunching her face into a pout as she looked up at clark.

“then tell Lena why you’re here.”

kara paused. “can you do it?”

“kara, you can do it.”

“you don’t have to be nervous, kara.” kara’s eyes shifted over towards Lena, looking just beyond her face. dhe wasn’t ready for eye contact yet. “i heard a lot about you, clark talks about you all the time. from what I’ve heard, you seem like a bright girl.”

“you talk about me?”

“i do.” clark smiled. “now, what are we here for again?”

“to interview lena.”

“why do we need to interview lena?”

“i’m writing a story. my first story.”

clark glanced over to lena, who was trying to hide a smile behind her hand. “and why do you want to do your story on lena?”

“because she’s really pretty.”

“yes, but there’s another reason.”

“because snapper wants me to report on lena and L-Corp and how she’s being a business woman.”

“that’s right. so are you ready to ask lena questions now?”

kara looked down at her feet, starting to play with the bottom of her shirt. lena held out her hand again, waiting for a reaction from kara, but frowned when she stepped away. clark held out a hand and pulled kara closer to him, trying to calm her down. at least two minutes passed before kara glanced up, looking at lena. her eyes lit up and tucked some hair behind her ears, ready to answer any question that kara asked her.

#kara danvers #autistic!kara danvers #lena luthor #clark kent #supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers one shot #lena luthor one shot #supergirl oneshot #dc's supergirl #dc's supergirl oneshot #kara danvers fanfiction #lena luthor fanfiction #melly writes #an i (queue) of 187

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