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iguana-eyanna · 1 year

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What's In Front Of Us

Pairing: Clark Kent x plus size! reader

Warning: Mentions of bullying

Summary: For once in his life, Clark never felt so speechless until he saw you in blue.

a/n: loosely based on the song You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift

The bell school rang, alerting the students it was dismissal. Everyone flooded the hallways as well as you. You walked up to your locker, unlocking it as you got the books you needed. When you close it, a familiar face looks at you, smiling.

"Did the birthday girl had a good day?" Clark Kent, your best friend since childhood, asked you.

"It was fantastic." you said sarcastically, then bursting into a fit of laughter as Clark joined too.

"I wanted to sleep in World Geography so bad." You said, almost putting your books inside of your bag.

"Yeah, I felt the same for Chemistry." Clark said, already grabbing your books and carrying it for you.

You never minded Clark helping you, besides, you want to use his super strength for good use.

You two were inseparable growing up. You were basically at the Kent Farm all of your childhood and often referred to you as their second child.

"Also, birthday girl gets to drive." You smirked, flashing your new car keys to Clark. He smiled at you, knowing that you've pleaded your dad to drive and he gave you his old pick up truck. You both walked to the parking lot, and see the popular girls whispering at you as you get in the old pick up truck. You never knew why they disliked you so much, but you never paid attention to their sneers. Clark always admired that about you, that nothing tore you down.

"Anyways, I was thinking we could study for a bit at the coffee shop and I'll drop you home." You said to Clark as you drove out of campus.

"Sure, my parents will be relieved that I'm actually getting help with this class. They're more proud of your grades than mine." He joked.

"I have that effect on other people's parents. You have your powers and I have mine." You joked as Clark chuckled.

Soon, you drove to where you guys were headed and walked side by side inside the Talon. You then ordered what you wanted and sat down, just going over some things for your Chem homework.

You were still talking about some formulas and you look up to see Clark glancing elsewhere.

You follow his gaze and see he was staring at Lana Lane. It was like she popped out of those teen rom-com scenes where the guy is staring at his love interest. You roll your eyes, muttering 'typical' as you return to your notes.

"What?" He says, turning to you obliviously.

"You have super hearing and you didn't hear me?" You question.

"Who has super hearing?" Lana asks as she came up to your table.

You and Clark turn to her like deers in headlights. Clark coughs in his hand as you try stammering out.

"Oh, I was... just teasing how Kent prides in his hearing but he wasn't listening about our homework." You said.

Lana politely smiles as she looks at Clark flirtatiously.

"Better start studying Clark. You don't want to be grounded on prom night for slacking school." She said, picking up his empty drink and went to the back.

You had nothing against Lana. She was nice to you compared to the other girls in school. But you felt a pang of jealousy that Clark started to notice her more often. He thought he was weak in the knees for her, but soon found out the kryptonite necklace she wore made Clark ill. (Maybe you were a bit appeased by this, but you would never tell Clark that.)

Clark looks at her till she leaves his sight and immediately looks down to his textbook, reading the chapter.

"Really? I've been helping you for a whole week and it takes Lane two seconds for you to study?" You asked, feeling a bit upset.

Clark looks up to you, feeling bad. "I'm sorry, you know how I get flustered."

"Yeah..." you muttered again before reading to yourself.

"Hey, someone's a bit grumpy. Is it because I didn't give you your birthday present?" Clark asks, smirking.

"Clark, I told you, I don't like being spoiled." You said. Of course, you appreciate the Kents for taking care of you, especially since your dad is still mourning the loss of your mom.

"Hey, you're my best friend. I want to show how lucky I am that you're cool with me being an alien and all." You snicker at his comment, he never failed to make you laugh.

"Okay, Kent. Give me my present." You said in a sassy tone.

Clark smiles and dugs inside of his signature red jacket and hands you a present that looked like it was wrapped by a toddler. (You'd think he'd use his speed to be useful but oh well) You open it and you stare down at a silver bracelet that had a charm with the first letter of your name.

"Clark... I can't- accept this." You said, feeling a bit choked.

"Hey, yes, you should. I just remembered that you've always wanted to have a bracelet like your mom so I tried to find the closest thing like in the pictures." He said.

You form a smile as you wipe your tears.

"Thank you." You whispered, you said, fumbling to try to place it around your wrist.

Clark saw you were struggling a bit so he takes the bracelet and helps you put it on.

He gently holds your hand up and you both admire the twinkle it shows under the lights.

"It's beautiful." you said, looking down.

"Yeah, it is." he whispers under his breath.

You two retract your hands, feeling a bit flustered.

"Um... let's just go back to work." you whispered, staring back at your textbook.

Clark didn't say anything except smile at you and continued on with his studies, happy that he gets to be with you.

Soon, you drove him back home and see that his parents were out as Jonathan was getting off the tractor and Martha coming out of the house.

"Hey you two! How was studying?" Martha asks.

"It was good, Clark listens to me better than the teacher." You joked, making Clark roll his eyes playfully.

"Well, I'm glad that you're teaching him, he's always got his head in the clouds." Jonathan said, messing Clark's hair making his son smile.

"Why don't you stay for dinner? I don't think muffins and coffee is a proper meal for this time, especially not on your birthday." Martha asks you.

"I really don't want to intrude." You said, knowing Mrs. Kent won't take no for an answer.

"She did make you your favorite." Jonathan hints, giving you a warm smile.

"Well, I guess can't pass up on a good meal." You joked as Martha hugs as you walks you into the house.

All of you started to eat and shared your day, laughing and enjoying each other's company. After dinner, Clark walked you to your car and opened your door.

"Hey so, I haven't heard any plans from you for prom." Clark asks as it was near the date.

"I wasn't initially going, but my aunt sent me a dress she made herself to surprise me. Said every beautiful girl deserves a beautiful dress." you said.

Clark comes closer to you, leaning on your open window.

"I didn't know what you were up to, so I was wondering if you wanted to go together?" Clark suggested.

You look at him surprised. you knew he didn't want to go to prom all together, unless he asked Lana, but he hasn't even asked her. You assume that she already has a date. You're about to tell him that you didn't want to be a second choice but his eyes gave you this look.

"You know you're the only one for me... so what do you say? I'll buy you a corsage to match that bracelet of yours."

In that moment, something in you just sparked.

"Well... flowers do sound nice." you said.

Clark shone his signature smile and straightened up.

"Great! I'll pick you up at your house, 8 o'clock sharp!" He said as he jogs to his door.

You couldn't help but shake your head as you started your car.

Prom would be one night to remember.

As the night came, Clark was trying to make a bowtie but kept on failing. Jonathan saw his son and walked in his room.

"Getting nervous there son?" he asks, leaning by the door frame.

Clark looks at his dad and looks down to his unfinished tie.

"It's just a dance." Clark said.

Jonathan laughs his head as he goes up to Clark, already fixing his tie.

"It's not just an ordinary dance, especially for you two lovebirds." His dad joked.

Clark rolls his eyes, as his parents often paired you and Clark since you two met.

"Dad...." Clark warned.

"I'm just saying son, it takes a long time for us Kent men to realize what's in front of us. That's all I can say." Jonathan said.

He finished the tie and patted Clark on the shoulder, implying that he was finally done. The two share a grateful look at each other and walked out to the car. Martha joins as she brought a polaroid, wishing to get pictures before you two head to the school.

When they arrive to your house, Clark takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

He then sees your dad who looked very bright.

"Clark! Come in, she should be coming down by now. Started getting ready since noon!" He says. Clark's parents go up to your dad and talk while Clark was staring at the staircase, trying not to burn it.

He then did a double take as he finally saw you as you walked out of your room as you were walking down the stairs. You wore this dark blue off-the-shoulder dress with a high slit on your left leg. He was stunned as your hair and makeup were professionally done. What made his heart flutter was the bracelet he gave you.

Martha gasps as she places a hand on her chest.

"Darling, you look beautiful! Clark, tell her she looks beautiful!" She said.

"Thank you Mrs. Kent." you said, staring at her.

You then look at Clark, slightly squirming in your dress that felt hot.

Clark could tell that you were waiting for a response. But there were so many words in the english language for him to describe you: exquisite, stunning, angelic... his breath was taken away.

All he could do was gulp, and offer you your corsage.

"This is... for you." he mustered the courage to say.

You decided not to let Clark make a fool of himself and walked up to him as he placed it around your wrist, feeling the same vibrations when he placed your bracelet on for the first time.

You two smiled at each other and looked up when you see a flash. Martha took a picture and orders you to pose with each other. Clark and you take pictures and tell your parents that it's time to head out. They wave you goodbye as Clark drove you to the dance.

The ride was silent, as the two of you sat awkwardly to school.

"Sooo..." You muttered.

"Sooo..." Clark replied.

You've grown a bit unsteady, and Clark could sense too. You're heart was thumping faster than a speeding bullet.

Clark gives you a glance and looks back on the road.

"Your dad seemed happy."

You smile as you look out the window.

"Yeah, he said that today reminded him of his first date with mom on their prom night. Brought back some good memories."

Clark smiled. You and your dad have been so estranged for so long, but was happy that you two found some inner peace.

"I'm not great with, talking about things... but I want us to have a fun night together, with you." You look at him and give him a smile.

"I'd love nothing more."

As you parked in the school's parking lot, Clark helped you down his car and held your hand. He held it tight, reassuring you that he wouldn't leave your side. You both took a deep breath and walked into the prom together.

Luckily you went during the rush, hiding among plain sight among the numerous teens. The night went without a hitch, you two were having a great time laughing and dancing.

Then it came the slow dance.

You and Clark looked at each other awkwardly.

"We can sit down if you want." You say, already crossing your arms as you felt too conscious.

"I was hoping we'd dance if you like." he says, stepping forward to you.

You look up to him, eyes doe like as you took a silent gulp. You slowly wrap your hands behind Clark's neck as he placed his hands on your waist.

You two don't break eye contact as the lights dimmed and the music filled your ears. You two slowly closed with each other, not saying a word. You lay your head on his chest as he held you tighter once more. Clark felt like he was floating in midair, wanting to hold you as long as he can.

He got lost in thought till he heard your voice.

"Clark?" you ask.

He looks down at you, your eyes shining like stars.

"They're staring at us." you said, uneasy.

He looks around and sees his peers, even hearing the smallest of whispers around you.

"Don't pay attention to them, they're just jerks." He says.

"What are they saying?" you ask.

"Nothing, they're all jealous that I get to dance with the most gorgeous girl in the room."

"I don't think i believe that... You sure you don't want to dance with a prettier girl like Lana?" You ask, stopping your dance.

"I don't want to dance with her, I want to dance with you." He says, firming his voice.

The insecurities start building in your chest and you let go of him.

"I'm sorry, I can't." You said, already running away with tears in your eyes.

He calls you by your name but you can't look back, not when you were feeling like a fool.

You go straight to the bathroom, holding onto the sink as you cried more, ruining some of your makeup.

It was stupid, stupid to think that you could have a chance with Clark. You guys have been friends your entire lives, he'll never view you as something more.

You whip your head up and hear some laughter. Lana was the first girl you saw and she looked so happy. She then saw you and saw her features soften.

"Hey, I'm just going to take a bit, you can go." she said to her friends.

She goes straight to the paper towel roller and took a piece. She walks right up to you.

"May I?" she asks, lifting up the napkin.

You were shocked, but you straighten up and allowed her to wipe off the mascara down your checks.

"Whoever told us that prom is the best night of your life is utter crap." she said.

You couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, i'm just counting down the days till I leave for college." you said, feeling a bit better.

Once she was done, she threw the trash and gave you a comforting smile.

"You look beautiful, you and Clark must be having a good time." She said.

You frown a bit before you lean by the sink.

"I'm kind of avoiding him right now." You said in a low tone, crossing your arms.

Lana looks upset. "If he said anything I swear I'll bring him hell." She said in a serious tone.

You laugh, as you know she'd fight for you.

“Clark is fine, it’s just… the people around us stare at me like I came out of a circus.” You said.

“Hey, don’t think that. In ten years, they’ll be wasting away in some bar or regretting having three kids who are under five. You? You’re going to graduate top of our class and go out into the world, doing greater things. They’ll regret ever saying one bad thing about you.” Lana said, placing a comforting hand by your arm.

You hugged her tight, trying not to cry.

“Thanks Lana, you don’t know how much that means to me.”

She rubs your back and looks at you, beaming that you’re feeling better.

“If I’m not mistaken, I believe you need to finish a dance with your date.” Lana states.

You take one deep breath and you two walk out hand in hand.

What you didn’t expect was Clark sitting by the staircase, straightening up when he sees you.

You look at Lana and give her a smile, implying that you’re able to take care of yourself. She gives you one last hug and says goodbye before heading to the dance.

You and Clark stand next to each other, in uncomfortable silence.

You two speak at the same time, always interrupting when one tried to give the other the floor.

Clark gestures you to speak.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" you ask.

Clark sighs in relief.

"I thought you'd never ask. I wanted to show you something if you want to follow me." He said.

You hesitate for a moment, but you give your hand to him. You two walk to the car and Clark drives you out of the school. You were confused about when Clark takes you to his barn and gets out quickly, wanting to surprise you with something. He returns back with lightning speed, grinning as he hopes to win you back.

"I think you're going to like this." He said.

When he tells you to come upstairs, you were in awe. He decorated the place with his white Christmas lights to illuminate the inside as you two saw the starry sky.

"Thought this would make up for tonight," he says as he walks up to the radio with a cd player and played a slow song.

Clark turns around and admires you standing there. He takes a few steps forward and holds you closer to him as you swayed to the music.

"I never got to say how breathtaking you look tonight. Guess I got too nervous to say it," he says.

You chuckle as you look up at him.

"Well, if that's your apology, I forgive you." You said.

You're thankful for Clark doing all of this. You were a very private person, so sharing this intimate night with each other in a comfortable place made you feel more confident.

You lean on Clark's chest, hearing his fast heartbeat. Clark holds you closer, never wanting to let you go.

That's when he realized his dad's words from earlier.

"I'm so stupid." He mutters to himself.

"What?" You ask.

Clark gulps as he realized he was thinking out loud and stops dancing.

"I'm an idiot."

"I think I need more context than that." You joke.

He rolls his eyes and held your hands firmly, staring into your eyes.

"I've been feeling so lost and nervous, my throat would dry and I forget the words that I want to say. But when I saw you walking down those steps, everything became so clear. I-I... want to protect you, I want to take you out of this town and show the world because you deserve every second of someone loving you and..."

His face inches to your lips.

"I want to be that person that loves you."

Your mind is racing and your heart might as well be jumping out of your chest. Clark could sense the uneasiness as you couldn't reply.

He begins to slip away from your touch, about to turn around "Maybe it's late, I'll take you hom-"

"Wait." You said.

You spin him back to you and without a beat passing, you kissed his lips. Clark's hands lay flat on your back as your heartbeats align. You two felt like you were levitating.

You two break apart, smiling wildly.

"I always wanted to do that," you whispered.

Clark could only chuckle as he shakes his head, as you always made him laugh.

"I thought the same thing." He said.

You two kissed again as the world around you blurred like an unfocused camera. But both of you knew you could capture this night like a picture: forever still in the moment.

#clark kent #clark x reader #clark kent x reader #smallville #smallville imagine #superman #superman imagines #superman x reader #tom welling #Clark Kent x plus size reader #dc #plus size reader

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zepskies · 7 months

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Writing Pattern Game

Thank you for tagging me @venus-haze 💖 I'm really liking these little tag games. (Linking to yours here because I loved each of your First Lines.)

Rules: Share the first line of your last ten published works or as many as you are able and see if there are any patterns!

Well, here we go! 😂 I'm going to exclude headcanons because they're not really full stories.

First Lines:

Imagine: Ben loses you. (Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader)

Ben restrained another sigh when he realized you were no longer walking next to him.

Talk to Me (Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader)

“What the fuck is wrong with this cocksucking coffee maker?” Ben snarked.

Assistant Hottie (Jason Teague x Reader)

“Hey, Coach T!” Jason turns his head, shooting Clark Kent a smile that’s just a little bit forced.

Smoke Eater (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Come on, come on, come on! The toe of your heeled foot tapped on the floor as you, once again, waited for the elevator to make its slow climb back up to the 22nd floor.

Imagine: Sam crosses the line. (Dean Winchester x Reader, one-sided Sam Winchester x Reader)

Goddamn witches. That's the last coherent thought Sam has, before his mind is no longer completely his to control.

In Bad Weather (Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader)

Dean can’t remember the last time he woke up quite like this.

Devour Me (Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader)

When Dean asked you to move in with him, he really didn’t think it would come to this.

Break Me Down (Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader)

Well, this fucking sucks. The thought rattled through your mind as you were led down a hallway, across a cold expanse of tile floor.

Strong as Blood (Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader)

Make no mistake. Ben was still a terrible cook.

Didn't Mean to Stay (Beau Arlen x Reader)

In times like these, you really hated the sun.

Patterns: Well, looks like I'm all too comfortable with kicking things off with dialogue/internal thoughts. 😂 Genuinely didn't know that was a habit of mine. My sense of humor tends to be dry, so I think that comes through as well lol.

If anyone else notices something I don't, please point it out to me! ❤️

No pressure tags: @waywardxwords @thatonewriter15 @kaleldobrev @waywardlatina @justagirlinafandomworld @impala-dreamer @spnexploration @luci-in-trenchcoats @pink-sparkly-witch @iprobablyshipit91 @deanwritings @deanwanddamons @deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior -- and whoever else wants to do this!

#writing pattern game #first lines #tag game #dean winchester #soldier boy #beau arlen

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thirstnotes · 1 year

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| Rivals to Lovers - Clark Kent - Part Three - Dream Clark |

Pairings: Clark Kent x AfabBlackPlusSizedReader

Warnings: Smut (yes, I know, FINALLY), minors DNI, thirst, morally gray Clark, jealousy, dream sex, overstimulation, angst, breaking your own heart, sex toys, language, typos, hint at reader being plus size

As usual, say it with me now: If you don't like it, don't read it

“Why are you fuckin with me like this?” Clark all but groaned, the game now a distant memory in his mind.

“Like what?” you asked, genuinely just realizing your attempt at catching his attention was working. Ironically, long after you'd given up.

“Don’t play with me, mortal,” he softly snarled, dark eyes floating over the light yellow fabric of your night gown, the light of the television highlighting your thick silhouette under it. A small pair of lacy panties lay beneath it, daring him to rip them off. It wouldn’t take much. “I’m tryin to be a gentleman.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to be.”

“Careful,” he warned again with a gravelly laugh, the silhouette of his own thickness settling atop his thigh, betraying his words. He was already horny, that was without saying. But whether or not he was about to bend you over and fuck you blind on your own sofa was what he was trying to determine. Or rather avoid. But fuck it. “C’mere.”

You hesitantly obeyed, approaching him and standing in front of him, truly not knowing how to give yourself to him. He pulled you forward by your hips to straddle him, which you seamlessly did, the soft buttery scent of your sugar cookie body wash tickling his senses. You were really going for it. Your heart was beating out of your chest, but you were holding your ground and going for it. He respected that. The annoying clamoring of the news program behind you distracted him for the last time, switched off with a simple flick of his thumb. Then it was quiet.

He let you squirm under his leering stare for a bit, watching you try to think of something to do or say in that moment. Much like a virgin trying to make use of herself during her first time. It was adorably sweet, something he’d have to make a mental note of later. Despite your put-together, tough, abrasive attitude, you were, at your core, awkward and nerdy. To see you thrown off was a rare treat. It made him impishly impatient. His grip on your ass tightened a bit.

“What? You thought I was gonna do all the talking? What do you want me to do? Use your words.”

You rolled your eyes at him, sitting back. “I mean. I dunno-“

“Yeah, you do. You're bossy as hell.”

“Shut up, you know I’m new to all this,” you laughed, unable to meet his eyes.

“I can’t lie. Shy is a cute look on you,” he snickered, guiding you to look at him, “Tell you what. I bet I can read your mind. You want me to take these off.” His broad hands slid under your panties, cupping the soft flesh of your ass once again.

“Mmhm.”

He breathed a laugh against your chest, dipping his head to peck it. The corruptor in him was incredibly pleased. You were adorably intimidated by him. As though you'd never known him before. He was the same alien you knew and loved. Your Clark. Your Superman. But you were shaking. Actually shaking on top of him. Nervous out of your mind. He shouldn't have been as delighted as he was and yet... Fuck. You felt small snaps at your sides and realized he'd just ripped the thin seams of your panties and was disposing of the wet scrap of fabric. Leaving nothing to stop you from making a generous mess on his slacks. His work slacks. His favorite work slacks. You were getting them dirty. Wet. Covered in your arousal for him. You bit your lip. Something in you loved it. It seemed to set him off, his hands lifting you with supernatural ease, as though you were a feather on his thighs. "Messy girl," he breathed, laying you down to watch him rid himself of his glasses and unbutton his shirt. More like rip open; more than one button flew off in the process. "Look what you're doing. Do you see the mess you've made?"

Your eyes floated to the generous outline in his slacks, much thicker and larger than you thought, making his slacks painfully tight and in the way. You felt your fingers twitch to reach to palm it, and before you realized that's exactly what you were attempting, his large hands stilled you.

"I don't think so. That's a reward," he smirked cryptically, fingers ripping open the short, thin fabric of your already ruined nightgown, exposing your bottom half to him entirely. His eyes glazed at the beautiful sight of you, swollen and ready. Undoubtedly wet and warm and tantalizingly tight. "Yeah."

He hovered above your mound as though entranced, tongue running over his lips. "Since you ruined my slacks, it's only fair."

Your eyes watched him quietly, curious as to what he meant by "fair". It almost seemed as though he were trying to justify what he was about to do to you aloud. Not particularly to you. Just aloud.

Truthfully, you didn't care as much as you were dying with anticipation of his descent, and in the back of your mind your reporter's senses were telling you that was exactly his intent. His mouth was suddenly on you and you arched as he mercilessly swirled and sucked, making out with the sensitive skin of your clit until your throat was dry from needy gasps. You swallowed and exhaled a new string of groans, each one hungrier and more wanton than the last. He was rock solid in place as he fucked you with his mouth; no amount of clawing and grasping in his hair bothered him. It truly was superhuman.

It was merciless. It was...so fuckin good.

BUZZZZZ BUZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ

You stirred awake at the sound of your ringing, vibrating phone falling off your nightstand. You squeezed your thighs together, falling short of the delicious, sleepy orgasm that was now eluding you. Fuckin dammit. This was your day off. Whoever the fuck it was deserved the worst side of you this morning. At least after you got up to find your fuckin phone. The ringing eventually stopped and you groaned, your mind on the fresh bit of business you'd just subconsciously made up.

This wasn't the first time you dreamed about fucking Clark.

Especially in the past couple of days

In fact, it was a secret bit of you time that you looked forward to after spending time being his boo

The man haunted your dreams, your thoughts, your whole being. It was troubling

You could tell yourself seven ways to Sunday that you were still annoyed by him, and truthfully you were

But it was because you were falling hopelessly and helplessly in love with him and...

Well...

He didn't love you back

It stung

You didn't quite break out the Sade box set yet

But you were in the Toni Braxton - Unbreak My Heart/Mariah Carrey - My All 90s Heartbreak phase

Yes, gurl. It was that deep.

You fumbled in your side drawer--that you sensibly named your Sex Drawer--past all the condoms and assorted bottles of lube for your favorite sex toy. The only one that could bring you back to the wonderful fantasy of Clark's mouth on your still needy clit.

"Yeah...It's only fair..." his words still echoed in your head as you lined the hole to the head of your clit.

'Yeah. It is', you thought greedily, holding the button, still holding to the illusion, 'Torture me, Superman. I deserve it.'

It always startled you when your toy sprang on. You were never ready for it. You couldn't help but liken the anticipation to Clark's hypnotic fixation to always keep you guessing and waiting before he plunge. His amazing ability to make you cry out just as you did then, breath caught in your throat, sweat gathering on your thighs as you greedily chased your release.

Dream Clark made you forget yourself. Dream Clark made you selfish and greedy. Needy. He kissed you places many men didn't have the privilege to. He smoothed his hands along your curves as though he molded you himself. For his use only. He shamelessly used you and loved you and had to have you just to make it through the day.

Dream Clark needed you.

You came quickly and tormented yourself a bit more, dragging the sucker along the sides of your clit, the yummy feeling of your orgasm prolonged and pulling you into a state of ecstasy that brought tears to the corners of your eyes.

Dream Clark would lick those tears away. Coax you to give him just one more. Just for him. Wet his dick just a little longer. His dick, his fingers, his tongue...whatever he felt like fuckin you with that day. Just. Come for him.

You practically sobbed out another orgasm, gasping his name into the physical world as your body jerked from being spent. It startled you a bit. You were whispering his name now. Out loud. It was cemented. In place of Luke, you were saying his name out loud now.

Honestly, Luke who?

As you showered and got ready for the day, you had to wonder: If Clark was Superman, that meant he had super hearing, right? If you masturbated and said his name aloud and he was flying by, would that mean he would hear you?

Much like the if two trains left station A vs B scenario

It was ridiculous, but your shower thoughts made you incredibly curious and maybe even a little paranoid

Superman was really popular

Did he hear that kinda thing all the time?

Hmmm

You tuned out the morning show playing in the background as you mulled on the thought and made yourself some breakfast that morning. Clark had been the one that called, but he didn't leave a message. You were certain he'd call again if it was an emergency, but he never did.

A bit of grease flew from the pan and hit the back of your hand, making you wince a bit. It had occurred to you that you never asked Clark if he could even cook. True, it was a cooking class, but if he thought he was gonna fumble through it and pass most of the time trying to woo Lois, he had another thing coming. You loved your progress and he wasn't about to ruin that.

You looked out the window and imagined what it'd be like to hear a knock and see him out there, floating in place, flannel flapping in the breeze, box of donuts in hand. Damn. You really wanted some donuts now.

Your phone lit up out of the corner of your eyes and you took a few seconds from breakfast to unlock and scroll through it.

4 unread messages

When the hell did that happen? All from Clark.

"dsjndfsfwji" Whatever the fuck that button mashed shit meant. It was sent late, while you were asleep.

"Sorry. Drunk dial" and "Make it up to you later" were both sent together, also at later times. Drunk and Clark didn't seem synonymous, but you made a mental note to taunt him about it later.

"Look out your window" Sent just now.

You froze, your heart doing a flip. After hazarding a look at your window, you didn't see him floating there, but you crept to the sill and saw him standing below. Business casual. Rolled sleeves. Box of donuts in hand.

(Part 4)

(Part 2)

#dc comics #clark kent x black reader #clark kent x reader #clark x reader #reader insert

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to-the-stars8 · 2 years

Text

Love and Neighbors

Parings; Clark Kent x Reader 1-Small Talk In Elevators 2-Thin Walls 3-Humming In Elevators

4- Coffee Breaks

You were sitting at the coffee shop closest to your work when you heard the screaming followed by a swarm of people running by. Familiar with the common knowledge of ‘see people run, run yourself’, you did just that. Or started to before something came flying through the door of the coffee shop then hitting the wall like a meteor. You crouched down to hide from the debris flying in, terrified of what exactly disrupted your coffee break. Fortunately, after the shock wore off in a couple of seconds, it seemed no one was hurt.

Heart racing, you started to move with the crowd as the person stood straight after the collision. Superman. You were in awe. Everyone in Metropolis had seen the red and blue hero at least once--From the ground, never up close. Yet, there he was, unharmed and a few feet away, after taking a wall to his entire body.

In a rare moment, Superman met your eyes and they widened. As did yours. It was amazing, a real superhero right in front of you. It lasted for less than a second as the crowd of people fleeing the cafe pushed you out with them, but you managed a wave to the man who returned it.

For the rest of the day, you worked from home as your boss had ordered due to the increased traffic due to the ruined parts city causing havoc. The moment the elevator stopped at your floor you knocked on Clark’s door to check on him, assuming that he would be home for the same reasons, but there was no answer.

“Maybe he got caught in traffic,” You mumbled, walking into your apartment.

The news had said it had something to do with some alien coming to try their strength on Superman, but not much more information than that. You were only surprised that it wasn’t Lex Luthor.

A couple of hours later, you went to Clark’s door again, and this time he answered.

He looked exhausted and like he needed a hug. You sighed in relief. “You’re okay. Thank god.”

“Yeah,” Clark chuckled. “Barely.”

“Yeah,” You echoed, looking your friend up and down. He looked absolutely wrecked. Usually, Clark kept up a clean and business-like appearance, either sporting a cardigan with or without a tie. Standing in front of you, he was in sweatpants with a sweatshirt and messy hair. His glasses were gone, so you could see his face clearly as well as the bags forming under his eyes.

“Rough time getting home?” You asked.

Clark nodded, leaning against the door frame. “Seems like we both went through hell.”

A smile crossed your face. “I don’t know about that. I saw Superman today.”

“You seem excited. I thought you didn’t like him,” Clark returned your smile with one of his own.

“No way, I love that guy! I said I didn’t want to be him. If we didn’t have Superman then we’d end up just like the guys in Gotham, always scared with danger lurking at every corner. Plus, he’s handsome. From far away, anyway,” You admitted, thinking back to the one second you two held eye contact. Due to the adrenaline that had been running through your veins and the limited time of interaction, you couldn’t really recall what he looked like.

Your neighbor looked down at his shoes to hide the blush on his face. Clark got called handsome a lot, but from you, it meant something entirely different. It seemed to mean more. “Well, uh, I was about to cook some dinner and watch this new documentary on TV if you’d like to join me.”

For some reason, that sent butterflies to your stomach and you suddenly forgot about the superhero. Nodding, you walked into the apartment as Clark stepped to the side. The smell of a home-cooked meal hit your nose and you sighed with contentment.

A hand touched the small of your back as you made your way to the kitchen and you turned to see Clark there. His hand felt like an anchor on you, holding you to the ground as you felt your stomach and heart start to float as the butterflies picked up their pace. As he started to cook, you talked about what had happened at the coffee shop, leaving out the part where you were scared shitless of course.

“And he waved back to me, Clark!”

“Turning into a real Lois Lane,” The journalist jested.

You laughed. “Hah, I doubt it. Imagine having a Superhero in love with you.”

Clark was glad he wasn’t facing you as he stood at the stove because then you would have seen the small disapproving look on his face and the blush. He wasn’t in love with Lois, it was just that she had been his friend for years. For a while, Clark thought he was in love with her, but, after some time, decided they were better off as friends. You, though, he could see himself falling in love with you.

As you stood there, smiling and talking, he took in all the ways he found you beautiful. From the way your hair fell to the curves of your hips and thighs. Clark also liked the way your eyes reflected the light and how often you came to check up on him--He just wished he could tell you how much you meant to him. Sometimes, he thought you felt the same way just by the way you touched him or talked to him, but it would be too good to be true.

“Are you jealous?” You asked, reaching around his big body to grab a piece of bread he had just pulled from the oven.

Clark swatted your hand away. “Jealous of what?”

“Superman tryin’ to steal your girl,” There was a teasing tone in your voice, but Clark still found it a bit annoying.

Everyone thought he was in love with his friend. “No. She’s not my girl. I don’t even like her like that.”

You seemed to get the hint and backed off. Relief filled you, now. Clark wasn’t in love with someone else, that excited you. “Oh. Cool…Do you have coffee? Superman kinda cut my break short so I couldn’t drink all mine.”

“In the cupboard on the top shelf.”

As you reached for coffee you thought about asking your neighbor out. You had wanted to because all you had seen from Clark Kent was nothing but the sweetest man on Earth. Nerdy, yes, but that was one of the things that you loved most about him. You liked the fact that he wanted to watch documentaries with you and likes walking through the parks. Though, as soon as the courage to ask him on a date bloomed in your chest it died.

You started the coffee pot and looked at your neighbor over his shoulder. Clark stood at the stove, back to you when he suddenly spoke.

“You know,” He started. “That coffee shop Superman crashed into might be out of commission for a while, so maybe I can show you another one…If you like.”

“As long as Superman doesn’t use it to crash into.” You grinned.

#superman x you #superman x reader #superman #clark kent fluff #clark kent fanfiction #clark kent x you #clark kent x reader #clark kent #romance

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imamotherfuckingstar-lord · 6 years

Text

Imagine Clark telling you he loved you

Clark Kent x Plus Size! Reader, fluff

A warm sensation crept on the right side of your face, the curtain on the window had been pulled from last night and the sun was now waking you up. Your body ached a bit as your eyes fluttered up and the smell of eggs and bacon filled the bedroom. Stretching, you rolled over and saw that it was 9:45 on a Sunday morning. Yawning, you got out of bed and realized you were as naked as the day you were born. Looking around for last night’s clothes, you panicked when there were nowhere in sight - only your shoes sat at the base of the bed. Sighing, you went to grab a sheet when you saw flannel pj bottoms and a white button up shirt placed neatly on the chair by the window.

You got dressed, a little embarrassed that the button up was a little tight and didn’t button up all the way - it stopped right in the middle of your chest. Holding the shirt closed, you walked out the room to the smell of breakfast being made and a very muscular back facing you at the stove.

“Clark.”

The man turned around, spatula in hand, a soft smile on his face. “Morning, you’re up just in time. Breakfast is almost ready.”

“Sounds good,” you mused, stepping up to the kitchen island. “So...where’s my clothes?”

Clark laughed and said he had put them in the wash earlier. “They are in the dryer right now, but I have to say, you look nice in that.”

His eyes ran up and down your body, stopping at your hand covering your chest. “Clark Kent!”

“What?”

He chuckled as you relaxed and let go of the shirt. “I don’t know how you’d expect me to fit in your perfect body shirt, it’s incredibly rude.”

“Hey,” he scolded, putting two eggs onto a plate. You watched as he turned off the stove and walked around the island to you, his upper body was shirtless and last night’s sexual escapades came back to you. While Clark was often quiet and a little reserved when out in public, in bed, well he had you melting into the mattress. He worshipped every curve on your body and his mouth did a number on you. “You are amazing, you are perfect as you are.”

“Come on, Clark,” you laughed, playfully pushing him away, but he stood his ground.

“Didn’t last night show you how much I love your body?”

Heat rose to your face and you touched his chest, fingers dragging down to the top of his pj bottoms. “So I don’t look like a huge marshmallow in your shirt?”

Clark sighed and without much effort, picked you up and placed you on the kitchen island. You laughed and smacked his chest as he opened your legs to squeeze in between them. His hands went to your thighs and rubbed against your flannel bottoms. You held back a giggle as his hands traveled up to where the shirt stopped buttoning and smirked.

“You don’t look terrible in my shirt,” he said softly, his eyes narrowing. “But I think you’d look even better without it on.”

“Clark Kent,” you whispered, shaking a finger in his face.

The man smiled bashfully as he began to unbutton the shirt, waiting for you protest, but you didn’t. Instead you threw your arms around his neck and pulled into a kiss, his mouth warm and fingers warmer as they opened the shirt. His hands went over your breast as your tongue danced against his. You moaned into his mouth and he lifted you off the counter, moving your legs around his waist. Clark walked you toward the bedroom, his hands holding you up by the ass. You laughed against his mouth when he gave your bottom a little squeeze, making you pull from the kiss.

“Down boy,” you teased as he stopped at the bedroom door.

“I love you,” he whispered and you froze, moving your head back to get a good look at him.

“What did you just say?”

Clark smiled shyly and carefully placed you down, pulling your shirt closed. “I said I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, hands touching his face. “I love you, Clark Kent.”

He kissed you then, a soft loving one, his arms wrapped around your waist - his fingers slipped under the shirt to caress your, as you liked to call them, love handles with gentle strokes.

When breathing was a factor, you broke the kiss and smirked.

Clark gave you a questioning look and asked what was wrong.

“Oh nothing,” you mused, grabbing his hand to lead him into the bedroom. “It’s just Superman totally loves me, no big deal.”

Forever tags:

@my-amazing-nerdyness @naih-reedus @maciiiofficial @casownsmyass @jade-taillia @fangirlextraordinaire @indominusregina @feelmyroarrrr @my-rainbow-wonderland @myhopeisinfinite @girl-next-door-writes @dontbeamenacetotheforce @melonberri @superisatomboyuniverse @xloudwhocares @dracsgirl @moonlight53 @makemyownwonderland @dreamwhisper87 @trekken81 @barely-emily @winterboobaer @purelittleblueberry @goodnightwife @mishaissocoollike @stormyfandoms @foreverybodythatunderstands23 @gallifreyansass @flirtswithdanger @yana-tardis-drwho @myplaceofthingsilove @jchona @alyssaj23 @blackhoneybucky @urbanspacedecay @castieltrash1 @hannahsakorax3 @imagine-all-the-imagines @motleymoose @distinguishedqueenofbooks @kitkatgaming @fizzylollipop12 @iamwarrenspeace @darkmystress00 @lunarwolfrose @kapolisradomthoughts @sisinia13 @swiggityswagness @takemetoneverland91 @to-pick-ourselves-up-7 @sarah-mos @rubynationwins @padfootorionblack @kaywolves @wonderlace19 @purelittleblueberry @courtneychicken @rayleyanns @whatmakesmebeme-tblr @thewinterwitch @avengersgirllorianna @holywinchesterness @tatortot2701 @brewsthespirit-blog @seabasschino @lame-lozer @ex-bookjunky @travelwithwords @supernaturaldean67 @thehuntchback @shoytai @besamiculo-puto @ign-is @zuni21798 @multipleuniversesinwriting @pleasantdreamqueen @damalseer @10kindsofderp @hennessy0274-blog @jodoethr @s-t-r-i-k-e-us @seeing-but-not-observing @happyskywhale @anyakinamidala @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @cinema212 @geeksareunique @potato69fan @snarkyturnip @thilbob @hercrazyfandomobsession @wildefire @sashavis @nosleeptillbucky @grace-for-sale @someonekindalikeyou @pheonix16 @warrioredqueened @sexykitty96 @huflerin @space-helen @sorenmarie87 @wickedsingularity @steve-rogers-personal-hell @wintersire

#clark kent x plus side!reader #clark kent x reader #clark kent imagine #clark kent #superman x reader #superman #dc imagine

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yehet-me-up · 2 years

Text

The Meet Cute

Pairing: EXO Mall Junmyeon x reader

Genre/Word Count: Fluff/4,599 words

Summary: Single dad and Antiques store owner seeks current daycare professional and soon-to-be Librarian for mutual pining, book appreciation, and impromptu holiday pizza with a very nosy five-year-old.

A/N: it’s teeeechnically February 10th that the ‘Jun being late to get Sungmin’ thing happens, but I’m taking creative liberty and moving it four days to line up with some other events ;)

February 14th, 1997

Valentine’s Day is not normally a particularly notable occasion for you.

Sure, there’s the chocolate, the cheesy Hallmark movies, and the perfect vibe to re-read some of your favorite romantic poems. But when it comes to having someone to, you know, actually celebrate the holiday with … not so much.

So you were caught completely unawares when it was Valentine’s Day, of all days, that love smacked you upside the head.

“Oh my gosh, aren’t these cute?” Your sister asks, holding out a ridiculously overpriced chocolate box, strategically located at the Starbucks counter for folks like her to snag as an impulse purchase.

“You’re joking, right?”

You want to say no on principle, reminding her of how tight money is, how you are quite literally sharing a bed in your friend’s apartment, and so on. But it’s been a hard month for her. And her eyes do that damned pleading puppy-like thing that younger siblings seem to master when they’re not annoying the heck out of you.

“Okay, fine,” you groan. She squeals with delight as you fork over much more cash than you’d planned. “Don’t eat it all at once.”

She sticks out her tongue and immediately begins unwrapping it while walking over to talk to her friend who works at the drink prep station. You roll your eyes and shove your hands in your pockets, wandering out into the main area of the mall while you wait.

It’s odd for you to have time to stand still. Normally you don’t have the time to eat, let alone think. But the quiet of the mall in the mornings, before the crowds and the customers and the numerous kids to watch at the daycare, allows your mind to wander along with your feet. And with so many things occupying your mind, so many places to be, it’s rare that you get a moment to simply observe.

Something quickly captures your attention. It’s early, yet the shop next door has its lights on. Guardians reads the sign above, etched in wood and matching the eclectic arrangement of objects in the displays on either side of the door.

At the counter stands a man, head bent over his work. Dark hair covers his eyes from view at this angle and wire-rimmed glasses rest on the tip of his nose. A stack of books sits by his elbow and he carefully writes something in the one in front of him, before gently closing the front cover and placing it to his other side.

All by himself, in the closed shop, he seems like he exists out of time. Surrounded by antique lamps and watches and coins, like he belongs in liminal space himself.

He frowns, his expressive brow pulling together. He’s handsome in such a classical way that your heart beats faster, an unfamiliar sensation in your gut that is indeed exactly what you’d imagine butterflies would feel like in there.

It’s not your fault, though. Attractive man plus books is quite literally the recipe for your downfall.

For all of your practical nature - okay, what your sister would call “up-tight” - your first love was reading. Since the first time your mom took you to the small library branch down the street from her work; since you first ran your hands over the bright covers and realized entire worlds lived on paper and ink in between, you’ve been obsessed.

Life and tragedy pushed you far away from romance in the years since your parents died and your world shifted on its axis. But romance in books has been your companion for far longer. And something about this man inspires a thousand fantasies at once.

With the glasses he could be Clark Kent, hiding his super powers. He could be a detective from the countless narrow paperback mysteries your father loved. He could be one of Jane Austen’s heroes, a sea of passionate emotions kept under his cool surface. You lean against the pillar and sigh.

Any second now you’ll look away and quit this voyeurism. Absolutely any second now. But it’s been a long few weeks and the exhaustion that hovers just beneath the surface lowers your resistance to admiring the handsome stranger.

His brow unfolds and his lips purse, pulling to the side as he finishes with one book and reaches for another. The veins on his hand and the cut of his jaw and the forearm visible beneath his sleeves, hastily pushed up to his elbows, denote strength. The neat, square cut of his nails and efficiency in his actions indicate an organized mind.

But it’s his eyebrows and his lips and, good lord, the gracefulness of his hands as he writes. They’re what strike the romantic urges in your heart. You begin to wonder if you’re so sleep-deprived that you’re hallucinating.

It’s early January in Seattle and each new person entering the mall brings a chilly breeze skirting around your ankles, trying to bring you back to reality. But in your perusal of this man your palms grow warm, a heat coming to your neck beneath your scarf.

You almost laugh to yourself. Who is this man making you what the Victorians would call ‘hysterical’ in broad daylight on a random Friday?

You smile softly and shake your head in amusement, watching him, the murmur of morning Starbucks customers and muzak coming faintly through the speakers surrounding you. But then he looks up, as if drawn by your attention. His hand pauses and curious brown eyes meet your own.

Suddenly, you remember that you’re the one intruding on his quiet morning, and with a big step to the right you shift out of his view. Hand pressed to your chest and a gasp that turns into a laugh.

The barista calls out your name (the nickname you’re forced to use thanks to your sister’s piece of shit ex-boyfriend) and you turn to grab your latte. But Liz beats you to it, joining you just outside the open lobby of the Starbucks and handing you the coffee.

“Why do you look like that?” She gives you a head to toe assessment as she sips her own drink.

“Like what?” you ask offhandedly. The warmth flowing from the cup is no match for the way your cheeks flame in embarrassment and something else you can’t name.

“Like you just read one of those Nora Roberts romance novels I know you read when you think I’m not watching.” In typical little sister fashion, she smirks. Pleased to know something that you’d kept secret.

Much that you try to force your eyes to stay on the white and green design of the cup, you can’t help but glance quickly back at Guardians. “Absolutely nothing.”

She comes to stand closer to you, craning her neck to see what you’re looking at with all the subtlety of a bulldozer. Before you can groan and pull her back, she spots the man at the counter. “Ohhhhh. Now I get it.” Her smirk blooms into a full-on grin and you think briefly of disowning her even though she’s twenty-one years old.

“You get absolutely nothing,” you say, attempting calm and landing somewhere between desperation and mortification.

“Go talk to him!” she practically squeals. “Oh my god, I haven’t seen you even look at a guy in years. This is headline news.”

This time, you do groan out loud. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” Without looking at Guardians, you speedwalk past on your way towards work.

Of course your sister follows, pestering you with questions and far too much excitement for this early. It’s cute, to see her so happy about something. Talking about how she’s going to ask Jongin and her friend the barista everything about the mysterious man.

So you indulge her, rather than wondering if the man at the counter thought anything of you, or if he gets people looking through his windows all the time.

Shit, how on earth could I have forgotten today was Valentine’s Day? Junmyeon curses to himself when he puts two and two together, realizing why the restaurant is decked out in red and pink balloons, streamers, and more. Even for lunch, this is a lot. He should have known.

More accurately, how could Yixing not have told him that he was setting him up on a blind date for Valentine’s Day? To be fair, the chocolatier had his hands full, both with the busiest holiday of the year and a new romance to content with himself.

But, still.

‘So. Tell me more about yourself. Yixing said you own a bookstore or something?' the woman says from across the table while she scans the menu, eyes briefly flicking up to meet his.

Stacy. That's her name, Junmyeon remembers gratefully. At least work is something easy enough to talk about.

'It's an antique store, actually. Finding and restoring old books is just a part of the business. The rest of the time is spent at estate sales, auctions, and the like. Hunting down rare items and finding them new homes with people who are fascinated by their history. Old typewriters. Pocket watches owned by dead Presidents. Antique jewelry. That sort of thing.”

“Oh. That sounds fun,” she says, though the tone in her voice says she finds it anything but.

She turns back to her menu and he realizes that he should ask her the same question in return. With a sigh he picks up his glass of water and takes a sip, fully aware that he's stalling; playing for time as he decides if it's better to get it out of the way up front or if he should see if there's a connection with her before telling her about his son.

Or did Yixing mention it to her when he set up the blind date? Shit, he should have asked.

He watches her carefully for a moment, takes note of the way the tablecloth is moving with her bouncing leg beneath the table. The way she seems just a bit too... frantic. He doesn't think it's nerves at meeting him, he muses to himself with a chuckle, if the way she lazily chews on a fingernail while her eyes dart back and forth between two options is any indication.

She makes a noise, somewhere between a squeal and a gasp. 'Oh my gosh. They have sweet potato fries!' she exclaims happily, finally excited about something.

He drops his chin to his chest with a huff of a laugh, knowing that this will amount to nothing. Not because she isn't sweet, or because she's the wrong age for him, or any other countless superficial reasons people give for not continuing on with a second date after the first.

But because their energies are so wrong. With the right person you just know it in your gut. And his gut is telling him to get out of here as soon as possible.

Having a young son and being sole proprietor of Guardians, means he doesn't have the luxury of going on endless dates with sweet, beautiful women just for the fun of it.

In the back of his mind he can hear Yixing scoff, reminding him that if he wanted the time, he could take it; that there are dozens of people at the mall that would be happy to babysit for a night so that their friend could have some fun.

He gives Stacy a tight smile and as enthusiastic of a 'woo hoo' as he can manage.

If he's honest with himself, it isn't that he doesn't have the time. He knows this is just an excuse he gives. An easy out, saying he can't bring anyone else into his life who isn't serious, because he has a son. He won't let himself waste his energy on a connection he can already feel is not going past surface level.

He imagines the two, maybe three dates they'd go on. Superficially discussing current books and movies, childhood dreams and future aspirations. Eventually they'd fall apart. Drifting away in a stream of missed phone calls, growing further and further apart.

And then, out of the blue, he remembers the woman from this morning.

The thick knitted scarf over her warm-looking wool jacket. The camel-colored satchel and the stack of books tucked under her arm and the surprised expression on her glasses-adorned face before she hastily retreated out of his sight. He almost said something. Or did something. But, as usual, he didn’t.

As usual, life carried on around him with no deliberate intention on his part. Raising his son and running his store and trying to stay involved in his friendships and trying to cook and exercise and good lord, he was tired. He wants a partner again. He wants to have a person again, and much that she seems kind, Stacy is not fated to be that person.

At the next chew of her fingernail, he braces himself, his mind made up. When the lunch ends, he politely thanks her for spending the meal with him. He doesn’t say “let’s do this again” and neither does she. Easy enough to go their separate ways.

She deserves someone who won’t let her go, and he deserves someone he’ll fight to keep.

Back at the store he’s caught up contemplating when Yixing runs in a minute after he unlocks the door, all in a huff. Wide-eyed and half covered in powdered sugar. Junmyeon decides not to even bring up the disastrously boring date he just went on at said friend’s prodding.

“Can I help you?” he smirks, taking off his jacket and draping it over the stool behind the register.

“I need to find a gift for Lavender,” Yixing says, holding up several options. “She likes. Umm. Art and drawing and singing along to the radio. Destroying my sanity. The usual.”

Junmyeon takes pity on his friend and points to the beautiful wooden case tucked next to the stack of vintage magazines. “Try that one.”

He grins at the utterly perplexed look on Yixing’s face as he picks up the art case, debating. For the second time in as many weeks Yixing rushed into Guardians, looking like a man shaken by love, Jun has hoped his friend would make the leap to go after the new employee that’s clearly affected him.

Fingers entwined and pressed to his mouth, elbows resting on the glass counter, Junmyeon watches Yixing and tries to smother a smile. “Well?”

“Okay,” Yixing says, determination coloring his features. “I’ll take it.”

“No, no. It’s all yours.” He waves his hand at Yixing before he can reach for his wallet. The kit is nice, dark polished wood and well laid out. But it’s not exactly a priceless artifact. “If my perpetually single friend has finally found someone who caught his eye, it’s worth it,” Junmyeon says with a wink.

Yixing breathes deeply and lets it out in a rush. “Thank you.” He holds the case in both hands, shaking it once. “I really appreciate it Jun.” Eyes wide and a smile hiding in the corner of his mouth Yixing pushes against the door with his back. “Don’t think I forgot you went on a date with Stacy today. We’ll talk about that later.”

“No we won’t. Absolutely not. Now get out of here and go tell her how you feel!” Jun picks up a stack of receipts and laughs as Yixing waves before walking away.

He hopes that Lavender enjoys the gift, and that she sees it for the romantic gesture Yixing intends it to be. For all the time he spends on breaks and spare hours at estate sales and dealer showcases, the part that delights him the most is when others find enjoyment in the antiques and treasures he brings back to Guardians.

He love the idea of new homes for items that shouldn’t be forgotten. Old typewriters that find their way to budding Seattle writers. Pocket watches given to grandparents who appreciate the history. Jewelry for partners that delight at the uniqueness and the gesture.

His ex loved the random rings and necklaces Jun would find at garage sales for her. Way back in the days before his eye became honed for value and his mind filled with history and skill. Before they got married and became parents, long before Jun opened Guardians.

Having a kid made time fly by. The framed photo of Sungmin and Jun on the counter next to the computer always makes him smile. And then promptly causes him to shake his head in awe with how it’s been three years, somehow, since the photo was taken. As much as it baffles him how quickly his son is growing up, it baffles him even more to see how he himself is getting older.

His twenty seventh birthday is approaching and he doesn’t know how to feel. It’s not old by any means. But it’s not quite young, either. At least, not as young as he was when he met his ex-wife.

This week would be their eleventh anniversary. The thought makes him lay the receipts down on the counter and look to the floor in both shock and amusement. “Jesus, eleven years?” he muses to the momentarily empty store.

Eleven years since he got up the courage to ask her to the Valentine’s Day dance at school. Palms sweating and heart racing, by the lockers after Calculus. Both hoping she’d say yes and terrified of what it would mean to actually go out with his crush.

But the memory makes him smile, rather than making him sad. Junmyeon straightens and oddly enough, he thinks of you. Something about the way his heart sped up at seeing you made him feel like a sixteen year old again.

It could be nothing. Just an attraction to someone cute who caught his eye this morning. Or, it could be something.

As he gets lost daydreaming like a teenager, he watches Minseok walk across the mall.

KMS music has been his neighbor for nearly two years now, and the owner is a good friend. Therefore, when his friend walks from KMS over to Greyhame Books, Junmyeon knows that his friend is also pursuing love today. Everyone knows that Min and Bookworm are destined to be together.

Just like everyone is in on the betting pool of when the two of them will finally do something about it.

He traces a finger along the glass counter, biting his lip around a grin. It seems like everyone has love on the brain today. Minseok. Yixing. Just yesterday he’d even run into Chanyeol in the men’s room and heard all about his ex-girlfriend who is back in town and working at the jewelry store.

Junmyeon could play dumb and pretend that he’d escaped the wave of romance that seems to have swept through the mall along with the New Year. But he sighs, thinking of you once more, and remembers that he’s anything but dumb.

Perhaps a fool, to wonder about you without even knowing if you’re single, let alone who you are. But he’s definitely not dumb.

By the time he finally closes up shop, Junmyeon is utterly done for the day.

An hour spent haggling with a couple trying to pawn off their recently deceased mother's entire jewelry collection, insisting it was worth at least three times it's actual value. An entire stack of shipping labels that got applied to the wrong packages that had him run back and forth to the post office up the street from the mall twice. Not to mention the disastrously boring blind date, which feels like days ago, rather than hours.

After turning off the front lights and locking the door Junmyeon sighs, rubbing his neck and rolling his shoulders to relieve the tension. In the small back room he pours himself a glass of water and sits heavily on the sofa. He doesn't miss his ex. Doesn't even resent her, in fact. They had a good run of it - high school sweethearts and onward into college.

When she left, Junmyeon let her go. Their lives and journeys were at a fork in the road and neither wanted the kind of bitterness and resentment that would come from forcing the other down the wrong path.

But still, he misses having someone to go to the movies with. Hands on knees and over shoulders, sharing popcorn and Junior Mints, and discussing the best parts on the walk home. He misses having someone to help when he inevitably burns dinner. A warm smile and an amused laugh and helping hands to start over again.

He doesn't dislike his life - the store and his son and his friends - but he longs for someone to read with on the couch, after Sungmin goes to bed. Toes and knees and arms tangling together as they find a comfortable position to sleep at night. A head on his shoulder and bleary eyes in the morning that he knows will be forever.

He downs the glass and moves to the front of the store to tidy the paperwork, to prepare for tomorrow. It occurs to him that perhaps he should hire some help. With the success of the music store and the bookstore and the cinema and the restaurants, Exodus Mall has gotten far more popular in the last few months. But, like the stubborn man he seems to have grown into, he insists that he handle things himself.

He's endlessly grateful that the mall has a daycare, so that he’s been able to keep up consistent hours until Sungmin starts Kindergarten in the fall.

The thought of his son is like a weight dropped on his foot and he jolts. Jun fumbles for his watch, looking down at the time and up into the now darkened mall in shock and horror. He's over twenty minutes late for pick up.

Chastising himself for being such a colossal idiot and muttering about what an awful father he is, Junmyeon throws open the door.

But somehow, you've beat him to it.

Just up, ahead by the pizza place, you're leading his son towards Guardians. Holding your hand, Sungmin talks with his usual excitement, no doubt telling you one of his favorite stories. His eyes are wide and expressive, free hand waving about.

You nod and smile at him, patiently leading him forward. Junmyeon stops, heart still racing from the irrational fear of something bad happening to his child. He realizes it’s you - the woman from this morning. And now you��re here in front of him, watching out for his son.

A voice in the back of his mind says that this can’t be a coincidence.

"I'm so sorry about the delay," Junmyeon starts, and you look up, meeting his gaze. "Today was unusual - well, it was a trainwreck." Jun laughs, hating that he might have made Sungmin worry or inconvenienced you in some way.

The smile on your lips from Sungmin's story fades only slightly. There's a hint of something in your eyes as you scan him up and down that he can’t place - surprise or perhaps judgement. But thankfully you're either too kind to say anything in front of Sungmin, or perhaps you truly don't think anything terrible of him.

"It's alright," you say, bending down to Sungmin's height.

Sungmin nods sagely, looking far older than his five years. "I told her that you’re a bit of a walk-a-hol-ic," his son says with a toothy grin.

You quirk a brow, pressing your lips together in amusement before correcting him. “I think you mean work-aholic, buddy.”

Junmyeon laughs, groaning as he drops into a squat. "Now where did you learn such a big word?" he teases, holding out his hand for his son's.

"Miss Jane teaches me all sorts of words!" Sungmin motions to you as he closes the distance, allowing Jun to pick him up. For once not insisting he's too big for such a thing.

"Does she now?" he says with a hum. "Thank you so much for bringing him over. I promise it's not a regular occurrence."

You straighten, brushing your hair behind your ears. "Don't even worry about it," you wave him off. "It takes a village, right?"

"Right." He can't help but watch your lithe fingers as you zip up your coat. The flush in your cheeks and the easy smile that seems to hover on your mouth.

"I'm Junmyeon." He moves Sungmin to one hip and extends a hand out to you.

With a smirk you shake his hand, palm warm and steady against his own. "I know. Nice to put a face to a name" You release him and slide your hands into the pockets of your jacket, carefully avoiding his eyes. He wonders if you’re thinking of this morning, too. "I'm Jane."

"I'd gathered," he teases, irrationally proud when you laugh and roll your eyes. "I'll see you around?"

He didn't mean to turn into a question, but for some reason he wants to make sure he'll see you again. It absolutely has nothing to do with how good your curves look in the jeans you wear or the humor and intelligence in your eyes.

Absolutely not.

Irrationally he wants to linger, to ask you the endless questions that come to mind. When did you start working at the Little Rabbit Daycare? He assumed that by this point, after three years of owning a store in the mall, he'd met all the teachers. Are you from Seattle or did you move here? What did you do before this? Are you single?

"I'll be here." You move like you're heading back towards the daycare, towards the far exit. With a playful smile tugging at your lips you finally look up to meet his gaze again. "But next time you're late, you owe me a pizza." Rather than wait for his response, you lift a hand and wave at Sungmin. "See you tomorrow, kiddo."

Before you've gone too far, Sungmin tugs at Jun’s coat. “Dad, let’s ask her to come with us!”

He opens his mouth to say that would be presumptuous, but Sungmin grins, revealing a toothy smile. "Miss Jane, wait!" His too-loud, cheerful voice echoes loudly in the nearly empty mall. “We’re going to get pizza right now! It’s Friday night tradition. Do you want to have pizza with us?”

You pause, tilting your head to consider him. Not for the first time today, he thinks with a wry smile. Could it have just been this morning that he saw you for the first time? “Sure. Why not?”

“Yesssss!” Sungmin drags Junmyeon forward, rushing up so he can grab your hand in the one not held by his father.

You shake your head and smile at him, eyes crinkling at the corners as you look up to meet Junmyeon’s eyes.

His heart does a funny thing, glancing between you and his son and the grip he has on each of your hands. It’s been a long time since Sungmin had another parent to hold onto. He briefly imagines it was your hand in his directly, and bites his lip at the thought. It’s been a long time since he had someone to hold onto.

While the three of you make your way over to Barada to find a table, Junmyeon catches your reflection in the mirror of the clothing shop to his left. Anyone walking by would assume you’re a family. Maybe, he thinks out of the blue, you will be.

#suho #suho x reader #junmyeon #junmyeon x reader #exo #exo suho #kim junmyeon #exo fluff #junmyeon fluff #suho fluff #exo fanfic #suho fanfic

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 years

Text

Portrait of a Dangerous Man🎨2

Warnings: (series) non-consent sex and rape; slow creep; cucking; (this chapter) nothing as yet.

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

Synopsis: Your dream of having your work hung in an art show comes true but your first buyer is not all he seems to be.

Note: Thank you for your positive response to this one! I hope you enjoy what I have in store.

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

Your Spotify list of redundant tracks flowed through the apartment as you sat typing at your small desk in the corner of the front room. The boxy space was as oppressive as any office space, another reason for your voluntary work at the gallery. Vanessa let you in the studio to paint. Without the privilege, you wouldn’t have the space for your easel.

You stretched your fingers and rubbed your eyes. You felt dizzy from staring at the screen, even with night mode on. The work was monotonous and made you restless. You wanted a pencil or brush in hand, a canvas before you, not this blaring laptop. You yawned and took a sip of your lukewarm water.

Your phone vibrated from across the room and you checked the time. Your lunch started soon but no one was really keeping track. As long as you got your assignments done, it didn’t matter when you chewed on toast and disassociated.

You got up and grabbed your phone from the corner table and leaned against the arm of the couch. You remembered how Marcus woke up there and grumbled as he lifted his head in pain. You couldn’t really feel bad for him going into work hungover. He embarrassed you and it didn’t quite sink in until after Clark left you to stare down at your drunk boyfriend.

An unknown number showed on your screen and you answered tentatively, ready to hang up at the first sales pitch. Your name came from the speaker and you recognized the deep voice in an instant. It took you back to the night before and the canvas hung on the wall.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” Clark said, “I only just had the paintings hung and I thought… well, I thought you might like to come see them in their new home.”

“Um…” you chewed your thumb, uncertain how to respond.

“Sorry, I know I can be a bit… to the point,” he laughed at himself, “how are you?”

“I’m good, just… taking a break.”

“You working?”

“Yeah, but I work from home,” you said as you touched the side of your neck, “I could… I could come see them but it might be a while before--”

“When are you finished work?” he asked bluntly.

“Four but I… maybe another day.”

“I don’t mean to be pushy but I did have something else to speak with you about,” he said, “a commission, like I mentioned.”

“Oh?”

“I kinda wanna get it started sooner than later, it will probably be pretty time-consuming,” he explained and you heard a clink and a soft sip, “I don’t wanna get into details on the phone but I promise, you will be compensated nicely.”

“You can’t wait until tomorrow?” you wondered.

“I suppose I can but it’d have to be during the day,” he responded, “why don’t you take some time to figure it out and get back to me by two? You can text me through this number.”

“Erm, sure,” you said uneasily, “I’m sorry, it’s just… very sudden, I don’t--”

“You can bring the boyfriend,” he said casually, “if you like.”

“He won’t be… home,” you said carefully, “I’ll let you know. Thank you.”

“I look forward to hearing from you,” he replied, “have a good day.”

“You, too,” you said and the line died.

You put your phone down and took a moment. Good things rarely happened to you. You struggled so long it was hard to think that might change. The skeptic in you told you there was something behind it all. That it couldn’t possibly be your art.

You went back to your computer and sighed as you waved away the screensaver with your mouse. The blinking cursor made you want to believe it was your big break.

🎨

You texted Clark at one and at four, you were in an Uber. Marcus drove his car to work and you stuck to buses and the underground when you could. The address was at least an hour out, the house among those estates on the edge of the city reserved for the upper echelon. You’d only ever seen the sprawling yards on your way to the next town.

When the car finally turned up the drive and you passed beyond a low brick wall, you felt entirely out of your depth. You tipped the Uber but didn’t feel too bad with the check from Vanessa sitting soundly in your account. You clutched the strap of your bag and walked along the curve of the brick work towards the stairs.

“Hey,” you stopped as Clark called to you, your ankle still tender from the night before.

You glanced over as he came out of the large garage and peeled off a pair of leather gloves. He smiled as he tucked them into his jacket pocket. You watched him and played with the clasp on your bag.

“Just got back from a drive,” he said, “I almost got carried away. I’m glad you made it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you replied.

“Well, come on, let me show you around,” he waved behind you towards the front doors, “we’ll go on a tour and then we can talk details.”

“Wow,” you uttered mindlessly as you climbed the stairs to the door but kept the weight on your uninjured ankle, “this place is huge.”

“My contractor went a little crazy,” he scoffed, “but I can’t complain.”

He led you through the doors and directed you to the left. In the front room, your work was hung along the opposite wall, arranged in a way that drew the eye to them. You stepped closer and peered up at your work with a hint of awe. They looked even better in a place like that.

“I had my interior designer make the final call on where to hang them,” he explained, “I hope you don’t mind, I gave her your details. She said she had clients who might be interested in your work.”

“Really?” you breathed, “that’s… too nice.”

“Oh yeah? One day, you’ll be sick of rich pricks like me,” he grinned, “I’ll show you the pool, that’s usually the main attraction.”

“Sounds good,” you said as you followed but he paused and watched your stunted gait.

“I forgot, we can go slow,” he offered, “how’s the ankle?”

“I’ll make do,” you affirmed as you neared him, “just need to get my steps in.”

🎨

As you finished the tour of the second floor, you slowed along the long hall and admired the work of artists you only ever saw in museums. You couldn’t help but be enamoured by the historic blots of paint. You almost forgot where you were as you leaned in to read the initials beneath the pastel flowers.

“So,” Clark’s voice brought you back, you almost blanked him out entirely in your mind, “I think you might have noticed the empty space above the fireplace in the front room. I was hoping you could fill it.”

“Oh?” you looked at him and smiled nervously, “did you have something in mind? A landscape or--”

“Well, your portraits are great. I like the old world style. I was hoping you might do one of… me,” he suggested, “I know, it’s vain but why not?”

“I mean, yeah, I could do that,” you said.

“I’ll pay hourly plus materials,” he continued, “three hundred an hour.”

You almost choked at the number. You blinked and swallowed through your surprise.

“Even a small portrait would take at least twelve hours,” you warned, “are you sure?”

“I know it’s a lot of time for you, so… I was thinking, if you have to miss work, I’ll factor it into your rate. I would really like to get the project started as soon as we can,” he put his hand on his hip as he looked down at you, “the only thing I need from you is a list of materials. I’ll have them waiting for you here.”

“Here?”

“Well, yeah, I figure it makes most sense,” he turned his palm out.

“Hmm, sure, I prefer my own brushes but… you know I can just buy the stuff myself--”

“Ah, no, I want it to be perfect. You send me a list and I’ll have my assistant go out and get it all ready,” he assured, “How does Sunday sound?”

“Sunday?” you blanched. That was two days away.

“Like I said, Marcus is more than welcome to come with you,” he offered, “I’d hate to keep you from him too long.”

“I guess Sunday works,” you squeaked, “I’ll talk to Marcus.”

“Great,” he said coolly, “well, that’s business. How about a drink to seal the deal?”

“I don’t know, I should probably get back,” you fiddled with your bag against your hip.

“One drink won’t hurt,” he said, “go on, call the boyfriend and let him know you won’t be much longer.”

“I… thanks,” you murmured.

“You’re humble for an artist,” he joked as he sidled by you, “once you grow an ego, you’ll be unstoppable.” He neared the stairs as you turned to watch him, “I’ll be at the bar, waiting. You like gin?”

“Sure,” you answered as you pulled out your phone, “I’ll see you down there.”

🎨

When you told Marcus about your new side gig, he was even more excited than you. You were anxious and slightly hesitant. You hated to jump in feet first and risk losing more than a few tubes of paint. What if the work wasn’t good enough?

Marcus was more than willing to come with you when you told him about the size of the place. He knew by the area that it was extravagant. You sat in the passenger seat with the most expensive bottle of wine you’d ever bought cradled between your legs. You hated to show up empty handed after all of Clark’s generosity.

Marcus got lost and went down the wrong driveway before you righted your course. As you drove up, you were once more overcome from the rich rosebuds and sparkling fountain at the centre of the mosaic. You gripped the neck of the bottle and got out as Marcus whistled in awe.

“You weren’t kidding. This place is fucking nuts,” he swore, “I should’ve worn the tux from my brother’s wedding.”

“Please, Marcus,” you rolled your eyes, “let’s both try not to break anything.”

“You’re the clumsy one,” he chirped, “shit, you’re so lucky. You get to hang out here and paint all day? God, I wish I had an ounce of artistic talent. I’d trade it for code in a minute.”

You climbed the steps and clanged the large knocker on the right door. You waited a moment before an answer came and Clark appeared on the other side and beckoned you inside. He smiled as he shook Marcus’ hand.

“Thanks for joining us,” he said, “I would’ve felt awful stealing your girlfriend on the weekend like this.”

“Are you kidding me? She said you had a pool and I snuck the swim shorts into the backseat,” Marcus chuckled and you nudged him with your elbow.

“See?” Clark arched a brow, “the pool is always the seller.”

“Here,” you said as you held out the bottle of red, “for everything you’ve done and welcoming us into your home.”

“Ohhh,” he took the bottle and looked over the label, “I got a spot for this right behind the bar. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, I brought my brushes,” you patted the canvas bag on your shoulder.

“Mmm, yeah, well, I’ll just put this away and we’ll give Marcus the grand tour. Then I’ll get you situated,” he assured and rushed off.

He returned and pointed Marcus through to the front room, “you’ll see, just over here,” he directed him to your paintings.

“Oh, wow, babe,” Marcus marveled at the hung portraits, “you really did it.”

You smiled bashfully and Clark peeked over at you and winked. You squirmed as your cheeks burned and you turned away as he beckoned Marcus past the mantle.

“It’s a big place,” Clark said, “I’d like to get you started before noon.”

Clark led you along the same path as days before and slowed as you came back to the top of the stairs. He turned back and clapped his hands together.

“Marcus, if you wanna hop in the pool, we’re gonna start just in there,” he pointed to the one door you hadn’t looked through, “that’s the studio.”

“What about you?” Marcus asked.

“Well, I’ll be a part of the process so I’m afraid I will be just as busy but if you need anything, Nina, she has a crooked nose and mean mouth but don’t let her fool you, she’ll get you whatever you need,” he said, “just don’t track in water from the pool or she’ll string you up.”

“Oh, well, that doesn’t sound too bad. Some alone time in the sun and a pool,” Marcus grinned, “I really couldn’t ask for anything else… except you, babe.”

“Sure,” you scoffed, “go, have fun.”

Marcus kissed you quickly and thanked Clark again before he excitedly barreled down the steps. You scratched your neck as you looked back to your host, and you guessed, your new boss.

“I’m sorry about him. He can be such a kid sometimes,” you said.

“Nah, it’s fine,” he waved it off, “so, you ready to see your workspace? I kinda wanted it to be a surprise. Also, a bit last minute so it’s not perfect… yet.”

“Uh, yeah,” you answered, “can’t wait.”

He motioned you over to the tall dusty rose doors and hooked his fingers in the slotted handles. He slid them open and revealed an airy room with a tall ceiling and long windows. An easel stood facing the sun streaked glass, an immense canvas bigger than yourself, bigger than him, propped up on it. There was a ladder nearby and the table was set with a rainbow of paints and a large pallet.

Your lips parted as you neared the easel and stared up at the canvas, “you were right, it’s gonna be a lot of work.”

“I hope it’s not too much,” he said, “but you name your price. We’ll make it work.”

“No, no, I think for what you’re paying, I’ll do just fine,” you put your bag down daintily on the table, “so, uh, a portrait, I guess that means…”

Your voice trailed off as he went to the upholstered chair across the room, at an angle so you could see him from your vantage. Behind it, hung a velvet curtain to add to the scene and a bust on a pedestal. It felt surreal, like a dream.

You turned and pulled out the brushes, “I think you’ll get more tired than me, just sitting there.”

“I’ll make it through,” he assured as he sat, “is there anyway you’d like me to sit? Chin up, or…”

“Hmmm,” you turned to look at him, “I think… if you just put your shoulders back and… did you want a profile or--”

“I was thinking front-facing,” he stared at you steadily, unflinching as his eyes stuck to you, “just like this.”

“Perfect,” you said nervously and looked back to the table.

There was water to rinse your brushes, rags, pencils, blending sticks; everything you needed and more. You took a pencil from the bunch and pulled over the ladder. You climbed up and looked over at Clark as he sat stoic and still. He looked picturesque in real life, you expected paint would only lend to his figure.

His eyes met yours and you turned to start tracing the basic shapes onto the canvas. You had to stop and steady your hand as you did. His gaze made it hard not to tremble.

#clark kent #dark clark kent #dark!clark kent #clark kent x reader #dark fic #fic #dark!fic #series #portrait of a dangerous man #dc #dcu #au #mob au #mob!au #superman

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uncpanda · 3 years

Text

Wake Up!

An: Just something cute and fluffy because we need that in our lives right now!

Bruce Wayne x Fem!reader

Prompt: Why do we have to get out of bed?

The alarm is loud, obtrusive, and very unwelcome this early in the morning. You groan as you roll over, and stretch your hand out to try and find your phone. It’s in the same place it always is: the bedside table. God Bless Bruce for putting it there every night. You glare at the numbers that read five am, and you whimper a little bit.

You’ve just managed to sit up when an arm snakes around your waist and pulls your back down with a little yelp. Lips are on yours before you can make any other sounds. They disappear a second later and you laugh, “Bruce!”

“Shhh, you’ll wake the kids.”

“We live in a mansion that would have ended with our execution in the olden days. The rooms are big and far apart, we’re not waking anyone.”

His lips travel down your neck, and he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, “True, but Jon Kent stayed the night last night and so did Clark.”

“You’re lumping Clark in with the kids.”

“He pouted for a good hour last night when we got back from patrol and there was no cookie dough ice cream. So yes. He’s lumped in with the kids.”

The moment the sentence is said Bruce’s phone rings. He looks up at you, “I wonder who that could be?” There’s another buzz and you let out another laugh.

“Tell him, he doesn’t have to worry. We don’t have time for anything, I have to get up and get out of bed.”

Before you can blink Bruce’s body is covering yours like he’s glued to you. He rests his weight on his forearms, and his knees are on either side of your legs, “Why do we have to get out of bed?”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and twist the fabric of his t shirt under your fingers, “Not we, me. You can go back to sleep.”

He scoffs, “I can’t sleep without you here.”

You stretch your neck and peck his lips, which are now in a pout, “Sorry. I’m speaking at a conference at the college today, and I want to double check everything.”

He sighs and drops to the side, while you finally get out of bed. He lays on his side and rests his head on his folded arm, “What time is it? I’ll come and watch. I’ll even drag the kids along for support.”

“That’s sweet, but no.”

His brow furrows, “Why not? I never get to see you lecture.”

“You have work.”

“I’ll take the day off, and watch my hot professor wife lecture about Shakespeare. And since it’s Shakespeare you know Jason will want to go, and your lectures are interesting so the others won’t complain. Plus, we can make out like college students in your office afterwards. Win-win.” He winks at you, and his phone buzzes again.

You sigh, a smile is still on your face, but give in. You plant your hands on the mattress and lean forward. “No jeans. No t shirts. No hawaiian shirts. There’s going to be press there, and even more if you and the boys show up. And this is my job. Please remember that.”

“Noted. I’ll remember to lock the door to your office when we go in there to makeout.”

You can’t help but laugh, and this time it’s your phone that buzzes. It’s Clark, “Covering your lecture for the Daily Planet today. I would like to be somewhat coherent. Please tell your loudmouth husband to shut up and go back to sleep. Good luck. You’ll do great.”

When you read the text out loud Bruce scowls, and you place a kiss on his forehead. He and the boys do come to your lecture, which you do excellent at. And you and Bruce do sneak away to your office to makeout. Clark is the one who catches you, and he complains about it for three weeks straight.

#bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne imagine #batman #batman x reader #batman imagine #DC Universe #DC comics #clark kent #dc reader insert #dc imagine

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hannibals-favourite-meal · 7 months

Text

.⋆｡Call Your Mom｡⋆.

Clark Kent x plus size reader

I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom

Stick Season (We'll All Be Here Forever)

Music softly played through the shitty sound system in your car, providing enough noise for you to stay awake but not enough to wake your passenger. Every few minutes, your eyes would flick over to him as if to make sure that he wasn’t just some hallucination that your caffeine addled mind conjured up. But the way that the rare street lamps would cast a yellow glow onto his face and the occasional shift in his sleep meant that he was very real.

Even in the dim light of this back country road, you could see the tear tracks on his cheeks and the dark bags beneath his eyes. He looked so much smaller than you remembered him, weighed down by the world. You wondered briefly about how long he had felt this way, did it start recently or was it always there, just buried beneath a smile and those bright blue eyes that lingered in your dreams.

He drew in a shuddering breath but then settled back to sleep, the wrinkle of worry above his brow slowly disappearing with each mile you drove. You bit back the urge to push back the lone black curl that had fallen onto his forehead. Instead, you gripped the steering wheel even tighter and thought back to a few hours before, when you received a call from someone you thought you would never hear from again.

You were half paying attention to some late night television show, half awake and numb with the lateness of the hour but the relative calmness of your night was interrupted by the ringing of a phone. Without looking, you fished your phone from the side table and pressed it to your ear. “Yeah?”

Expecting a telemarketer or some automated message, you were shocked as the speakers let out a pitiful sob followed by a voice you used to know so well. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know who else to call- I just- Please.”

The drive to his apartment went by quick as you forced yourself to act upon instinct and not listen to the still hurting part of your soul that told you to let him suffer just the same as he left you to do so. The achingly familiar walk up the stairs to his apartment made that little voice grow louder and louder until you could barely ignore it.

Your knuckles hovered over the painted wood of his front door, your nerves screaming at you to leave but then the door opened and you knew that you couldn’t.

Clark Kent, Superman- always so well put together, so stupidly perfect in every way- looked like he was crumbling right before your eyes. Like a great tree wilting away, he was bowed forwards, pale and trembling. You let him pull you into a hug and he collapsed into your arms.

It had been months since the last time you had felt his touch, you were out of practice, slightly clumsy as you cradled his head in one hand and stroked his back with the other. But it was muscle memory, your instincts guiding you back to that spot on the left side of his spine halfway down his back that always had a knot in it but when you dug your fingers into the muscle, he melted, pushing his face into the crook of your neck as his sobs began to taper off.

Neither of you said a word, the discussion, the awkward conversation and the inevitable fight could wait- for a while at least. He trailed behind you like a lost puppy as you guided him down to your car. He squished himself into your small passenger seat and leaned his head against the window as soon as the door shut.

He fell asleep less than 5 minutes after you started driving, this would have normally annoyed you but you knew he needed the rest and you didn’t need to hear the sound of his voice as your mind reminded you what used to be.

Soon, street lights and paved roads gave way to corn fields and the gentle sway of a well-worn dirt track. The porch light was on, guiding you home through the darkness. As you pulled into the driveway that you had driven onto countless times before, the screen door opened and Martha, still dressed in her dressing gown, stepped out.

“Clark. You’re home.” You placed a gentle hand onto his shoulder, softly waking him. Those gorgeous blue eyes looked up at you, reflecting the full moon perfectly. He glanced past your body to where his mother stood then back to you. “It’s gonna be ok.”

His smile was enough to make you forget the miles driven in the dead of night, to heal the heartbreak caused by his hand, to remind you that all things can be set right once more.

[Verse 1] Oh, you're spiralin' again The moment right before it ends you're most afraid of But don't you cancel any plans 'Cause I won't let you get the chance to never make them [Pre-Chorus] Stayed on the line with you the entire night 'Til you let it out and let it in [Chorus] Don't let this darkness fool you All lights turned off can be turned on I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom Oh, dear, don't be discouraged I've been exactly where you are I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom I'll call your mom [Verse 2] Waiting room, no placе to stand Just greatest fears and wringing hands and thе loudest silence If you could see yourself like this If you could see yourself like this, you'd've never tried it [Pre-Chorus] Stayed on the line with you the entire night 'Til you told me that you had to go [Chorus] Don't let this darkness fool you All lights turned off can be turned on I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom Oh, dear, don't be discouraged I've been exactly where you are I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom [Bridge] Medicate, meditate, swear your soul to Jesus Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason Don't wanna drive another mile wonderin' if you're breathin' So won't you stay, won't you stay, won't you stay with me? Medicate, meditate, save your soul for Jesus Throw a punch, fall in love, give yourself a reason Don't wanna drive another mile without knowin' you're breathin' So won't you stay, won't you stay, won't you stay with me? [Chorus] Don't let this darkness fool you All lights turned off can be turned on I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom Oh, dear, don't be discouraged I've been exactly where you are I'll drive, I'll drive all night I'll call your mom I'll call your mom

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3slothy @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @km-ffluv

@snedhdh @kobaltdragon @blackhawkfanatic @8bookishworm8

#stick season (we’ll all be here forever)#clark kent x plus size reader #clark kent x reader #clark kent x you #female reader #plus size reader #reader insert #clark x plus size reader #clark kent x female reader #clark x reader #clark x you #clark x y/n #clark kent x y/n #superman x reader #superman x plus size reader #angst

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eartht137 · 3 years

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FOR THE BETTER pt. V

Okay curives here is part 5 to this installment of the story. Please forgive me as I have been a bit busy over the past few days and I haven't had the energy to write as much, but I will be posting more, hopefully soon. As always, please let me know what you think. Well enjoy MMMMMMwwwwahhhhahhh!!

Dark Clark Kent x Black!Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Non/Dub-Con(a bit more on the non con side), smut, anal (I might be missing something, let me know if I did) 18 and up. Minors DNI.

You jumped straight to your feet when you woke up. The horrifying nightmare that had played before your eyes felt too real, at least that's what you tried to convince yourself. None of what you'd seen was real, it couldn't have been. You mind felt like it was in a tornado of denial, the only thought you had was 'Its just a bad dream, its just a bad dream, its not real, its not real.' You stood there with your fingers tangled in you hair, trying to hold back the flood of tears that were threatening to burst.

"Y/n, what are you doing out of bed baby?" you heard him ask and you felt everything you'd held back break. You sobbed so hard it became hard to breathe. You felt his hands wrap around your shoulder. "Don't touch me!" You yelled, jumping away as if he burned you. "Don't you ever fucking touch me again!"

"I know you're upset, but that is no way for you to behave young lady." Clark scolded calmly.

"I'm not upset, I'm fucking furious! How could you do that?" You said breaking into sobs again. "How could you do that and pretend everything is okay?"

"Oh, my sweet little bird," He said softly. "I want to clear the air on something right now, so there's no confusion. I want to be very clear so you don't ever feel as though I've lied to you. I'm not sorry for what I've done. There's nothing in this world I wouldn't do for you, to protect you. That's how much I love you."

"That's not love Clark, that's obsession and its scary. You're scaring me." You tired to explain.

"Yes, I admit I am obsessed with you. I have been since I first laid eyes on you, but how would you know what love is when you've never had it?" He asked making you gasp at him. "I understand that you're scared, love is scary baby, until you learn that I love you and there's nothing that will keep me from loving you, not even you." He said smiling softly at you. In that moment, everything felt a bit too real and unreal, as if you'd exited and re-entered your body. You reached out and touched the bed before sitting down. You looked around you unable to look at him, and it finally hit you that you didn't know where you were.

"Wh-where are we?"

"We're home, I built this home with my bare hands for our family." He said sounding proud.

"Family?" You asked whipping around to stare at him.

"Yes baby, our big happy family, and if you're a good girl I'll give you a tour. I know you'll love it." He said walking towards you but you stood and walked further from him.

"Clark, there's no way you expect me to accept this."

"I don't expect you to do anything. You're going to do as your told like a good girl." He stepped closer to you cornering you. When he grabbed you, you tried your hardest to fight him off.

"Clark please, let me go please!"

"I will never let you go, I will never abandon you the way you family and your friends have before. There is no corner of this Earth that I won't destroy if something ever happened to you." He said pulling you into his arms and no amount of struggling helped you get out of his arms.

"Clark, please," you said sobbing still struggling in his grip. "You're my friend, you're my best friend. Please don't-" you begged.

"Shh baby, I just want to show you how much I love you." He said holding you head to kiss you. When you didn't kiss back, his hand clamped around your neck in warning, you returned his kiss. When his hands roamed your body, you began to tremble. His hands gripped and caressed inch of you. His kisses became needier as he placed you on the bed. You heard the sound of your clothes ripping. That had you fighting like your life depended on it because you never let anyone see your body. As long as it had been since you'd been touched, you had never ever been naked in front of anyone, never had sex with the lights on.

"No don't- stop it!" you yelled flailing under him. He looked at you unimpressed and chuckled.

"Baby, I have seen and loved every inch of you already, there is nothing to be ashamed of." He said ripping the rest of your clothes until you were bare. He sat up on his knees between you spread thighs and looked down at you like he couldn't believe you were finally there. He quickly rid himself of his clothes and you went into shrieks trying to escape him and his intimidating long thick cock. "Its okay baby, I'm gonna get you good and ready for me." He said crawling down between you thighs, hooking them with his arms. He kissed along your thick chocolate thighs. You squeaked in surprise when he bit you inner thigh.

"You like when I bite you? Yeah? Good, because you taste so fucking delicious and I don't plan to stop until you understand how much I love you." He said giving your fat pussy a deep sensual kiss. His tongue feathered over your clit. It was so soft you almost didn't feel it, but enough to make you jump. You cried and started hitting yourself, trying to remember that you didn't want it and you couldn't just resist, but when he spread you open and focused on your aching nub, you lost total control. You hips began to buck against his mouth chasing that sweet bliss. It had been too long since someone else had touched you and your body craved it. You'd dreamed of it over and over again to have him take control of your body, but being the person you were, you never intended to act it. His fingers found there way into your soft channel and you couldn't help the moans and pleas that escaped your mouth.

"Oh my fuuuuuuu-..."you grit out. Your hands found his soft hair and you pulled. That spurred him on because he started eating you like he was man starved. When his lips sealed around your clit, you saw stars.

"Clark! Claaarrrk!!!" You screamed, your body tensed, your thighs clamped around his head as jolt after jolt of pleasure ripped through your body. You heard a him growl before his hands forced your thighs apart and he continued eating you like an animal starved. You couldn't help but scream when he continued on, everything became overwhelming and even his hand on your thighs had you jumping as your body became overcharged. You tried tugging at his hair harder and you struggled to pull away, until you felt the heat rise again. His fingers found there way back to your opening and drilled hard and fast, making your whole body jiggle until you soaked everything within your path.

"Holy shit, Clark please!" you moaned unable to stop the words from flowing out of you mouth. He sat up giving you his award winning smile as he pulled you to straddle him. He kissed you, letting you taste yourself on his lips. He kissed along you neck and shoulders as he palmed and squeezed your hot flesh.

"I just want to hold you for a minute. I want to hold you like I've always dreamed. You don't know how many nights I've dreamed of you singing and screaming my name. I want you to feel every inch of me and I want to feel every inch of you. I want you to understand that from this point forward you are mine and nothing will separate us." He said as he positioned you on his thickness, making you gasp and push against him.

"Please Clark, I can't-I can't take it like this. It hurts." you whined as tears sprang to your eyes.

"Shh, you can do it love, just breathe and relax baby. Fuck you're so tight, so tight and wet." He said holding you wide so he could fully sheath himself in you. He was too thick and you were afraid he'd rip you if he didn't stop.

"You can keep trying, but you can't keep me out forever baby." He said finally pulling you all the way down on him. You could feel him deep within your womb and you held onto him too afraid that if you let go, you'd lose yourself.

"I feel you quivering around me baby, I could stay like this forever." He said before rolling his hips into your, trying to be as gentle as he could, but you could tell by the way his hands were gripping you flesh he wasn't going to keep his sweet slow pace up for long. He grabbed the back of your neck and made you stare him eye to eye.

"Don't you dare close your eyes." He said as his slow pace turned to gut punching thrusts. He sat a deliberate pace, your thighs were trembling, sweated covered both your bodies. His grip on you hips got tighter and you could practically feel the bruising. You fucked up and closed your eyes and his teeth sank into your shoulder breaking the skin, you screamed and your walls clamped around him. You almost felt like you couldn't breathe.

"That's it baby, I love feeling you cum around me." He said pulling your neck again to keep your eyes on his. Quicker than before you felt the heat rise again. You were overstimulated and sore, but your body wanted, no needed that last push. You were chasing it, and it scared you because on one hand you felt as if you were giving in and on the other you felt as if you could fuck all of you hate into him. Just as you were on the brink of bliss, you couldn't help but close your eyes and he bit into your flesh again and you screamed as you peaked. Clark practically roared, shaking the room as he pumped spurt after spurt into your aching womb. He squeezed you so tight, you thought he'd break you. He laid you back gently and you let out a sigh of relief finally glad it was over. So you thought, until you felt him turn you over on your knees and begin to stretch you virgin ass with his fingers.

"No, not that!" You said trying to run from his grasp.

"Now now love, I told you, I want to feel every inch of you and I want your body to know that it will only respond to me." He said pulling your ass closer to him. When he entered you, you screamed and cried. The gentleness he had in the beginning was long gone, he set an angry pace and there was nothing you could do to stop him. Your screams and cries went unheard as he chased his pleasure. You , laid there crying hoping that it'd be over soon. Clark reached around and his fingers found you tortured clit. A few swipes in had you moaning like a cat in heat.

"That's it my little slut, just like that. Fuck I'm gonna cum, you wanna come with me my good girl?" He said fingers speeding up to a dangerous speed.

"Fuck Claaaarrrrkkkk!!!!!" You screamed as you gushed clamping down, sucking him dry. He gripped you hips and gave you few slamming thrusts and he erupted in you. The sounds of him hitting his peak sent you over the edge and you came again.

"Holy shit, stars." You said one last time before passing out of exhaustion. Clark fell over your limp body and he stayed there kissing all over you and catching his breath. He laid with you rubbing you hair and praising you for how good you were for him. "You were so good for me, my good good girl. I love you so much. I'm going to make you so happy."

After you finally came to, he carried you to the bathroom where he ran you both a soothing hot bath and bathed you from head to toe. Once he put lotion all over your body, he placed you under the covers and he cuddled up to you very close.

You laid there feeling hella conflicted as your mind jumped between hating him and him giving you the best sex you'd ever had. You probably could've convinced yourself that you loved him if the memory of everything before didn't cloud your mind. You laid there fighting hard to keep from crying, but you were too overwhelmed and the tears escaped your burning eyes. Your body and mind were too tired to keep going and soon you drifted off to sleep. A dreamless deep sleep that you honestly wished you didn't have to return from.

#dark clark kent #dark superman #x black reader #plus size reader #henry cavill #non con

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silkenstarlight · 3 years

Text

wild cherry sweet (part two)

Summary: Reader is distracted as she and Bucky prepare to embark on their mission at the GRC’s private gala. Bucky decides to help ease her tension.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warning/s: smut (18+ only, minors dni!); public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, kissing, brief mention of sugar daddy

Word count: 3.9k

Find part one here

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Author’s note: i didn’t plan a part two for this, but tbh bucky is not the type to let a woman pleasure him without even trying to reciprocate on her

Do not repost! Likes and reblogs are welcome and encouraged :))

“Glasses? Really?”

You pressed your lips together tightly, scrutinizing Bucky’s lackadaisical efforts at putting together a disguise: wayfarer eyeglasses with a thick tortoiseshell frame that pressed awkwardly against his brow bone. You leaned across the center console of the car, and when you reached up to his face, he smiled dopily at you, expecting some loving, gentle caress. But, when you ripped the tag off of the glasses he had just bought at the pharmacy, his jaw clenched, lips turning downward into a chagrined frown. You settled behind the wheel again.

He seemed strangely excited about the prospect of donning a costume for the mission, so unlike his usual disgruntled self. Even so, his efforts at disguise were last-minute and low-effort. Earlier, before you had left the apartment to drive to the gala’s discreet venue, he had flattened his hair onto his forehead in an uncharacteristic style, reminiscent of the neatly-combed 60’s mop-tops donned by the likes of Ringo Starr. And, when you were slinging on your heels, ready to walk out of the door, he had asked you to dust some eyeshadow below his eyes. He explained that exaggerated dark circles would help to draw his face down and make him appear slightly older.

You obliged, trying not to let the breath stall in your throat as you traced a cool taupe shade below his eyes in faint crescents. You couldn’t ignore the fact that his eyes were trained on you the whole time.

The way his eyes followed your every move had made you suddenly shy and docile, even though just minutes before, you had been on your knees in front of him, his cock shoved down your throat. After he came, he had brought you up from your knees to a standing position, and had kissed you with the fervor of a man who was just getting started.

But, you had a mission. Which you were already late for.

You had fixed your hair and lipstick quickly after he had tucked himself back into his pants, a brush and a damp tissue working wonders to conceal your tryst. And then, you were both out of the door, climbing into your car and plugging the gala’s location into Google maps.

But, first, he had insisted on making a stop. You groaned, clutching the wheel tightly as he directed you through traffic towards a pharmacy a few blocks away from the venue. You parallel parked and he jumped out of the car, jaunting into the store with bouncing, confident steps. You left the engine running, eager to get to the gala. The sooner your mission was over, after all, the sooner you could both return to the apartment and resume where you left off.

The thought made you ache, the wetness pooling in your underwear momentarily making you forget the jittery tapping of your foot and the sweat that slicked the creases of your palms. Your stomach flipped when you remembered the blissed-out expression on Bucky’s face as your mouth had bobbed up and down his length, lips popping with a lewd smack as you pulled back--

The passenger door opened and Bucky climbed in with a plastic bag in hand, interrupting your daydreaming and making you jump.

He noticed, settling in his seat and shutting the car door behind him.“Pre-mission jitters?” He asked knowingly.

“Uh-- yeah.” You blushed, choosing not to elaborate.

He simply gave you a smirk, as if he could read your every thought, and pulled his purchase from the plastic bag. A pair of reading glasses. He slid them on, and you scoffed.

“Glasses? Really?” You lightly whacked his arm, laughing. “Who are you, Clark Kent?”

He shrugged. “Well, it seemed to work for him just fine.”

“Alright, just don’t come complaining to me when the magnification in the lenses starts giving you a headache.”

“Noted.”

You pulled out from your parking spot and rejoined traffic, hoping to find a parking space closer to the venue. You didn’t want to use the valet, just in case things went south and you needed a convenient means of escape. So, when you were two blocks away, you parked.

You both climbed out, stepping up to the sidewalk and locking the car as you began to walk. You smoothed your hands nervously over the skirt of your dress, breath slightly shaky. Missions like these were a part of the job description, but you would never get used to the nerves they gave you.

Or, maybe, the possibility of impending doom wasn’t what was giving you nerves.

Maybe it was the man walking next to you.

You bit your lip at the thought, turning your head to look at him.

“What?” he asked, still facing ahead, surveying the streets around them for possible exit points they could use if the evening went south.

You just shook your head, pushing the thought to the back of your mind. It wasn’t safe to get distracted like this, on a night as potentially dangerous as this one. Instead, you surveyed his body language, noticing that he had adopted a slouch to accompany his floppy hair, gaunt makeup, and glasses.

You snorted. “You look like an old man.”

“I am an old man, thank you very much.” His eyes slid to yours briefly, before facing forwards again.

“Never said it was a bad thing,” you smirked, trying to get a rise out of him before the serious portion of the evening officially began.

He grabbed your wrist suddenly, pulling you flush to his side and wrapping his arm around you.“Oh, I know that you like it,” he whispered, lips brushing against your hair. You felt your throat constrict, and he squeezed your waist before letting you go. “But we’ll have to save that part of the evening for later.”

“If you insist,” you sighed, lacing your voice with faux disappointment, knowing that if there was even a whiff of foul play at tonight’s event, you would both be cool, composed, and on the job, lewd thoughts far from center stage. But, it was fun to tease him, to hope that the gala would be tame, just so that you could go home sooner and do some not-so-tame things with each other.

The venue was a stocky cement building, gray and brutal and unassuming, the windows surprisingly dark. The only indication that it housed a private event was the presence of two guards, their bulky, muscled figures situated on either side of a nondescript metal door. You grabbed Bucky’s hand, fingers intertwining with his, and took a deep breath before you approached the guards.

You cleared your throat. “We’re here for the GRC event.” You clenched your jaw as both guards swept their gazes up and down your’s and Bucky’s bodies.

“Last name?” The one on the right asked gruffly, not bothering to look at your faces, pulling a tablet computer from behind his back to check the guest list.

“Jancovik. Daria Jancovik.” Your voice was steady despite the nerves, the fake name rolling off your tongue.

The guard raised his eyebrows and looked up, stepping to the side and gesturing to the door. “Ah, of course. Miss Jancovik.”

You smiled warmly. Your plan had worked. The real Daria Jancovik, a foreign informer who reported migrants to the GRC, leading to eventual deportation, was on… vacation. You had paid her an earlier visit, advising her to leave the country, to return home and visit her family instead of attending the gala. Bucky had advised you against this approach, claiming that it was too risky, that it would be better to just find a way to sneak in. But, you told him, it was better to enter where the GRC would least expect: the front door. And, it looked like the real Daria Jancovik took your advice-- she obviously wasn’t here.

“Thank you, sir.” You nodded slightly, leading Bucky behind you, hand still clutching his.

“Wait, Miss Jancovik.” The guard barred your entry with an outstretched arm. “The guest list doesn’t say anything about you having a plus one.”

Fuck. You tried not to let your brows furrow, tried to quash the electric feeling of panic that traveled down your spine. You bit your lip and broke into a shy simper, staring up at the guard through fluttering lashes.

“Oh, so sorry, sir,” you drawled slowly, voice dripping with apology. But, your voice shook, a slight tremor belying your confident tone and drawing a suspicious glare from both guards. You hadn’t planned for this. Your palms began sweating again, and your thoughts ran wild, searching for any plausible alibis that would explain your companion. But you couldn’t focus, thoughts erratic and shapeless. Your mouth dropped open, ready to babble some thoughtless, on-the-spot response, when Bucky cleared his throat next to you.

“Sir, I am what you may call a… generous donor.” He enunciated his last words carefully, adopting some strange, implacable and vaguely European accent. His words lilted and swirled lightly in his mouth, further elaborating his mysterious presence.

In spite of this, the guards weren’t convinced. “If you’re not on the list, I can’t let you in.”

Bucky simply stared back at him and squinted, deciding to try a more blunt angle. “I have a previous arrangement with this young woman. I… help her with personal causes. Of a financial nature. And, I was hoping to witness her fine employer in action tonight. I am… willing to spread my generosity to its cause, if I find it to be convincing.” You tried to conceal the awe that threatened to spill on your face at his quick save. And, you wanted to laugh at the insinuation that Bucky was your sugar daddy, some stuffy, lonely old man with heavy pockets brimming with cash. In reality, he struggled to pay rent and didn’t own a bed frame. It was comical, watching him trying to swallow his inner protests at the idea, managing his microexpressions with a steady, slightly uncomfortable stare.

You both paused, letting the guard’s mind wander.

His eyes flickered to his partner briefly before settling back on you.

The guard considered for a moment, and then simply nodded, avoiding further elaboration from you about your relationship. He stepped aside again. “Enjoy your night.”

You smiled sweetly at him before stepping past him and opening the door, tugging Bucky behind you.

“Wow,” you muttered as the door creaked shut behind you. A looming, dark passage stretching out before you, the dimly lit, bright red door at the end your final barrier to successfully infiltrating the gala. The thrumming pulse of music seemed to make the walls vibrate. You looked at Bucky, and he dropped your hand, flexing his fingers. “The plan actually worked.”

He laughed, and you both started walking toward the red door. “Only because my old man costume came in handy.”

“Well, like you said earlier,” you hissed. “You are an old man.”

He just shook his head slightly at your recall, and when you were both a foot away from the red door’s threshold, you paused. You did a mental check on your weapons, ticking them off on your mental checklist one by one. Handgun in thigh holster, check. Knife in ankle strap, check. Baggie of poison tablets in bra, check--

“You ready?” Bucky’s voice interrupted your last-minute internal review, and you turned to face him. His concerned expression ignited a whole new kind of nerves in your stomach, warm, fluttery electricity travelling down your limbs like lightning. It was a delicious feeling, and you longed to lean into it, to allow yourself to be cocooned by its enticing, buzzing embrace. To allow your tense muscles to relax, to press your body against his, melting into the muscled, statuesque contours and comforting stability of his body.

You were most definitely distracted, but that’s because you hadn’t had a proper outlet for your pre-mission jitters. Sucking his cock, watching him devolve into a euphoric, aroused state, had only gotten you more worked up than you usually were before missions. You felt embarrassment bubble in your stomach, a deep red blush travelling up your neck at the thought that you couldn’t control yourself in this moment. Your judgement was clouded, all because you couldn’t fucking function around a man like Bucky Barnes.

Bucky grabbed your chin and tilted your face up to look at him. “What’s wrong?”

You felt bad, noticing the genuine concern behind his eyes, but figured it was best to tell him. You didn’t want to lie and endanger the rest of the mission with your preoccupied thoughts. “Umm-- this doesn’t usually happen, but… I’m a bit… distracted.”

“What’s on your mind?”

You huffed a laugh and bit your lip, trying to gain the courage to tell him the truth. “Uh-- I guess I’m still… still stuck on what happened earlier tonight. Before we left the apartment?” You said it like a question, sentence nervously trailing up in pitch at the end.

His expression was unreadable, the pressing dark of the hallway leaving his face in shadow. But then, his teeth flashed in a broad smile. “I remember what happened,” he said fondly, as if you two were reminiscing on a shared memory before entering battle together. “But what’s holding you up about it right now?”

You took a deep breath. Time to come clean. “I’m just still a bit worked up.”

He raised his brows slightly in surprise, then nodded, face settling into an expression of understanding. “That makes sense. You didn’t get your release.”

“Yeah.” Your voice broke around the single syllable, your blush now flooding your cheeks.

“Well,” he said, dropping his hand from your chin and tracing his fingertips lightly along the curve of your neck, trailing them down your spine until settling at your waist. He squeezed slightly, making you gasp. “How quickly could you cum? If I helped you right now?”

You blinked in disbelief, shocked by his vulgar words, but when he just continued to stare at you expectantly, waiting for a response, you realized that he was serious. You scoffed. “I-- I don’t know. Probably pretty quickly.”

“Good.” He pushed you back, your exposed skin meeting the cool cement of the wall, pounding beats and indistinguishable lyrics pulsing through you to your very core. He stared at you for a moment, drinking in your neediness and saving the image of your blown-out pupils and parted lips for later. And then, he bridged the gap between you, resting his forehead against yours before pressing his mouth lightly against yours.

The kiss was surprisingly soft, despite your admission to a desire so pressing, so consuming, that you couldn’t focus on your job. And then, his teeth grazed against your bottom lip, catching it in a faint, erotic bite. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth, nipples peaking and wetness pooling in your underwear. You felt his lips curve upwards into a smug smile. You simply pulled him closer, sliding your hands up his chest and wrapping your arms around his neck. He took that as an invitation to push the kiss further, his tongue sliding against your swollen lips, softly prying your mouth open. He was sweet, so gentle and patient, but a sense of urgency drove his actions. He wanted to help you, so that you could release that burning tension coiled inside of you. You had treated him so nicely earlier that evening. He hoped to return the favor. Well, that and he also wanted to watch you cum.

You shuddered another moan into his mouth and he pulled back a fraction, hands tracing down your sides. He grasped the slinky fabric of your dress, pulling the skirt up until it was bunched around your hips, exposing your thin underwear to the cool air and solid press of cement behind you. He let out a low whistle at the sight, the delicate black lace and your soft skin.

You grabbed his wrist, sudden doubt blaring in your brain. “W-wait. What about the mission?”

He simply met your gaze with his, maintaining eye contact while he slowly sunk to his knees in front of you. He twisted his wrist out from your grip, wrapping his hand around one of your ankles and lifting your leg, bringing it up to rest on his shoulder. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Yeah? What about the mission?”

You could feel his hot breath against your clothed pussy as he answered, his voice low and rumbly in his chest. You pressed your head into the wall behind you, trying to fight the urge to twine your hands through his hair and beckon him to where you needed him most. Despite your weak protests, you desperately hoped that he would continue his actions. “Shouldn’t we--”

Your words trailed off into a long, loud moan as he quickly moved your underwear to the side and licked a long, wet stripe up your aching slit. He pulled back slightly to look up at you, and he hummed, pleased at your desperation, your knotted brows rosy cheeks.

“It’s alright, darling.” He scraped his fingernails teasingly up your other leg, chuckling as it buckled under you at the unexpected stimulation. And then, he settled that hand on your inner thigh, pressing his thumb against the soft skin and circling it lightly in a teasing massage. “We’ll make it quick.”

He waited for you to consent before continuing. You just nodded, not trusting yourself to form words, and he smiled wickedly before dragging his fingers against your wetness and plunging two digits into your center.

You gasped at the sudden intrusion, his thick fingers igniting a pleasant ache as they pushed inside of you, stroking your tight walls slowly until they relaxed around him. When he leaned forward, closing his mouth against your clit and flicking it with his tongue, you sighed. He lapped at your wetness eagerly, lips making an obscene smacking sound. You felt your muscles relax, that enticing, stirring warmth quickly travelling through your body as he teased you into a state of relaxed arousal.

He pulled back yet again to look at you, and you wanted to moan at the loss of his tongue, but he replaced it by circling the pad of his thumb against your sensitive nub. He noticed your hands, balled tightly at your sides, and he laughed.

“You can grab my hair if you want, baby. I don’t mind if everyone in there sees that I have sex hair.” He jutted his chin towards the door as he increased the pace of his fingers thrusting inside of you.

That permission was all you needed. You reached forward and twined one hand through his hair, bringing his face closer to you and inviting him to continue his earlier ministrations. Your other hand remained rooted against the wall, a necessary point of balance as he made you fall apart at his command. He replaced his mouth at your center, making you shudder.

It was warm, it was rough, and it was everything you needed. You tried not to think about the risk of intrusion, of the guards outside letting in other guests and getting an eyeful of a private moment. Or, if someone opened the red door and wandered in, they would be right on top of you, close enough to smell the musk of your arousal and see the pebbled peaks of your nipples pressing through the satin of your dress. It would be humiliating. Bucky would never let you live it down, forever reminding you on future missions about the time when you were caught with your legs wrapped around his ears. But, if you were being honest with yourself, the thought of someone walking in and witnessing you, drenched and dirty and moaning all because of him, only served to turn you on even more. A loud moan erupted from your lips, wetness squelching as he curled his fingers inside of you and sucked lewdly. You pulled his hair tightly, urging him on as you came closer and closer to completion.

In response to the sharp tugging of your fingers, he moaned, echoing the shameless sounds that were tumbling from your lips. The faint vibrations, the low, gruff sound of him as he lost himself in the endeavor of giving you pleasure, made you clench around him. A glowing pool of warmth began to form in your stomach, tension building and building. You bit your lip. The feeling of his mouth, sliding and sucking against your clit, and the sensation of his fingers spreading you open and coaxing sweet, high-pitched moans from your lips. It was almost too much. You slapped the wall with your free hand, twitching with pleasure as a deep, burning tension began to build.When his curled fingers rubbed against the spongy, sensitive spot inside of you, that was it.

With a high, keening cry, you fell over the edge, your orgasm wracking your body. A copious gush of wetness flooded from your center, likely drenching his face, and your legs trembled, threatening to buckle beneath you. He sensed this, his free hand pressing your hips roughly against the wall, still thrusting his fingers inside of you and suckling your clit. He fucked you through your orgasm, wringing every last ounce of warm, dripping pleasure from your body, not slowing down or stopping until a dull, tired ache bloomed in your center and you had to pull him back by his hair. He grinned up at you, making eye contact with you through his lashes, a slick wetness clinging to his upper lip. He huffed a laugh at the reluctant sucking sound your pussy made when he slipped his fingers out.

You rolled your eyes and he guided your leg off of his shoulder, making sure it was planted firmly on the ground before moving your underwear neatly back into place. He rose from his kneeling position. As he grasped your waist, your skirt fell back down around you in a dramatic curtain, and he pulled you close, kissing you lightly. The taste of you on his lips was intoxicating.

He pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against yours, and stared at you with a half-lidded, deeply satisfied expression. He had liked making you come apart just as much as you had appreciated the release.

“Uh oh,” he whispered, grabbing your chin and examining your face. “Looks like we ruined your lipstick again.”

You laughed, a raspy, tired sound, and smacked his chest lightly, stepping back. “Well,” you sighed, smiling up at him. “I don’t mind. I’ll go straight to the bathroom to fix it. Brought an extra tube of lipstick in my purse for any… potential touch-ups.”

He raised his eyebrows, smoothing a hand over his mussed hair and straightening the cuffs of his sleeves. “Sounds like you planned for this to happen.”

You shook your head. “Only subconsciously.”

He grinned, and you both turned to face the red door. Despite the fact that just moments before, you were writhing around his fingers, wanton moans swallowed by the diffused thump of techno music, you felt serene, ready to jump into action. No more distracting thoughts clouded your mind.

“Ready?” He asked, reaching for the knob, waiting for your confirmation before continuing.

You nodded in affirmation and smiled, eyes crinkling.

“Ready.”

He turned the knob and swung the door open. You walked through the doorway side by side, partners in crime, ready to meet whatever awaited you beyond its threshold.

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squishneedsahero · 3 years

Text

Reasons

Awesomest of Them All 2.0

Part 4 of 13

Word Count: 1809

Batman x Batmom!Reader

You know what the bat family needs? Someone to pull them together and give them all the love they deserve. Who better to do that than you? An author rising to stardom in Gotham who catches the eye of a billionaire with your standoffish attitude at a huge social gathering. You are yourself and never pretend to be more or less than that. Plus you're the most stubborn person in the world, refusing to let good things go without reason.

This is a rewrite of my story Awesomest of Them All, I wanted to see how much I've improved over 3 years.

"You're breaking up with me?" You say it like a question, offendedly and confused, from your point of view everything was going good, but apparently it wasn't.

"I am. I'm sorry y/n it's not you it's-"

"Nu-uh, Bruce Thomas Fucking Wayne you are not going end things with that cliche line," you say sounding pissed. "I love you and if you want to end things that is fine but you better as hell give me one good fucking reason why.

"But-no-were done y/n," he says, sounding confused as to why you're arguing with him. Why did you have to be so stubborn?! If anything it only made him love you more.

"No we aren't done at least until you give me a good reason. If you're going to end things with me then I deserve to at least know why when as far as I know everything is perfect according to Gotham standards," you cross your arms and pop your hip. This was the first real relationship you'd had in your life and him ending it without warning wasn't something you could handle. You needed to at the very least know why. Why had he invited you over? Why had Dick and Alfred greeted you normally? Just for him to try and end things? It made zero sense.

He looks away from you, with the angry tears in your beautiful eyes. You the first woman he has genuinely fallen head over heels for that he was currently trying to end things with. It was hurting him just as much as it hurt you, but he had a good reason. He didn't want you getting hurt because of his night job.

Both Alfred and Dick had tried to tell him you could handle it, and he knew they were right. You would be able to handle the fact that he was Batman, but he knew he couldn't handle you getting hurt. He knew that was his breaking point.

It's as you're staring at him with the tears beginning to run down your cheeks that he reaches his other breaking point. Seeing you hurting and confused, he couldn't bring himself to lie to your face another time.

"What?" You ask, seeing the slight changes to his posture and expression.

He takes a breath, "I'm trying to keep you safe y/n-"

"You're trying to keep me safe?" You ask your own expression softening. "Bruce," you reach a hand up to cup his cheek as you always had, but he catches it before you can touch him.

"Yes, I can't handle seeing you hurt. Even now, when I know I have good reasons for trying to leave you, I can't bring myself to actually do it because I can see how much it's hurting you even if you're yelling at me," his hand drops yours and comes to cup your cheek, a slight smile coming to his lips.

Your breathing hitches for a moment as he speaks, you can feel how genuine he is being, "Bruce-" actual tears begin to run down your cheeks at his proclamation of love. Your arms wrap around his torso and you lean your head against his chest, "Bruce, my love, that is the opposite of a good reason to break up with me. I hope you realize that."

His deep laugh echos through your ears, and his hand runs through your hair. "I know my dear, I can't do it. I can't bring myself to end things with you. If you had walked out after I tried the first time I would have, but I cannot bring myself to argue with you when I know deep down I'm wrong even if I like to think I'm keeping you safe."

"Well, as sweet as that is I'm glad you at least are acknowledging the fact that you're a dumbass for thinking it might work," you laugh gently and lean back to look at his face. "So, can I know what has you so convinced I'm going to be hurt if I continue my relationship with you?"

The two of you stand in silence for a few minutes just hugging each other before he says, "it'll be better for me t show you, as knowing you if I were to just tell you you would laugh and think I'm joking."

This of course causes you to laugh, "me? Laugh at you? What in the world makes you think I would do that?"

He laughs gently, "I don't know what would make me think that, dear." He doesn't wait for a real answer, instead taking your hand and leading you into the study and up to the beautiful dark colored oak wood grand father clock. He doesn't say anything as he moves the hands on the clock and it opens like a door revealing a staircase. He leads you down, still holding your hand.

You, are of course confused by this, because who the hell has a secret room in their house?! Well, billionaires, that's who. But that still doesn't tell you why he had a secret room. You look to him for an answer but he simply continues leading you down the stairs.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs you stop, and look around amazed at the vast cave you found you were in. It's dark, and you can't see much so you revert back to default settings and ask, "you have a sex cave?"

He laughs, clearly amused with that question. The fact that he had expected any other reaction just showed him how often you surprised him. "No, y/n," he leads you a little further into the cave before letting go of your hand and saying, "wait here, I'm going to turn the lights on."

You nod, and wait as you hear him move off through the dark. Your mind was reeling, what in the world was this place? Whatever it was, it was important to him and he was trusting you with it.

It's after a few moments that the lights light up the large space. A gasp leaves you as you see on one end of the cave a huge computer screen built into the rock, on the other end a car, helicopter and a whole ass airplane. It's as you slowly turn in a circle that Bruce comes back over to you and catches you in his arms.

You were facing a taxidermy T-Rex as he leans down to softly say in your ear, "I'm Batman."

A chill goes down your spine and you know it's true, not that you could really question it when he has a bat-mobile and T-Rex in his basement. Your hands find their way down to rest on his, "I guess this would be a good reason to break up with me, if you're still wanting too."

He shakes his head, "I love you too much to do that to you. Plus, me telling you defeats the purpose of any of that stupidity," he says, grabbing your waist and pulling you into a deep kiss.

"So, this is why I couldn't spend the night?"

"Yes," he laughs softly and kisses you again as he picks you up. Your legs find their way to lock around his waist, as he carries you over to the chair in front of the computer. He sets you on the desk, kissing you deeply yet again, one of his hands traveling up your shirt to draw circles on your side.

How could he be the worlds greatest detective and also not have guessed that you, the woman he loves would argue with him when he tried to leave you? He had almost made the biggest mistake of his life that day and now all of his emotions were overcoming him, he wanted, needed you close to him.

Sooner than he wants you break the kiss and end the make out session. You gently kiss his lips one time and ask, "so, how much am I allowed to know?" You press another quick kiss to his cheek as you stand up, and say, "I love you."

He doesn't let you move far from him, sitting himself in the desk chair and pulling you into his lap. "Anything you want to know you can," he brushes your hair back from your face and tilts his head to press a kiss to your neck.

"Hey!" You laugh and push his face back from you. "I want you to answer my questions, not try and distract me!" You spin yourself to straddle him, a hand going to rest on his hip, "after questions, then maybe, I'll let you kiss me." You purse your lips in thought, "maybe I'll let you do more than just kiss me, but that depends on if you behave," you tease gently.

He laughs and shakes his head slightly, "alright, I'll restrain myself from kissing you anymore, until you have your questions answered. After that though," that smirk comes to his lips as he suggestively lets his hand go up the back of your shirt to rest on your shoulder blade.

You sigh dramatically, and roll your eyes gently, even if you were excited to see him like this. "Okay, I'll make it fast. Does this mean Dick is Robin? Is that Clark Kent guy actually Superman and that's how Dick knew him? Finally I'd like to formally apologize for doing your job that first time we met when Joker tried to shoot me and I went on autopilot and told him he had lipstick in his teeth."

Bruce laughs, "yes, Dick is Robin. I'm surprised you already put that together with Clark, usually Superman is far away so him wearing glasses works. And, my love, it is more than alright that you did my job for me. I couldn't have done it better myself, though I probably would not have fallen on top of Joker after flipping him," he teases gently and kisses your cheek, "but no, I should have known from that that you can handle yourself."

You smile and press a kiss to his lips, "well, at the very least I'm sorry for insulting you when I did thank you that night."

He laughs again, "y/n, I love every part of you and if I am honest with myself that is the night I started falling for you. You amaze me with your ability to laugh and stand strong in the face of danger, I save people every night and have never seen anyone else react like you."

You push a hand against his chest, "stop, you're making me blush."

He rolls his eyes and laughs at you again, before growing more serious as he looks at you, saying in a low, sexy, voice, "a deals a deal, y/n, I'm going to make you do more than blush tonight."

#Batman #batman x you #batmom #batmom reader #batfam x batmom #batfam #batfam x you #batfam x y/n #batfam x reader #batman x batmom #batman x batmom!reader #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x y/n

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6rookie-writer0110 · 2 years

Text

Lonely days on the moon

Female Oc Kent x Male!reader

Request - Superman & Lois, Female Oc Kent is the third triplet and only daughter of Clark and Lois. Y/n is kryptonian and landed on earth when he was 10 years old in 2017. He only meet Clark once and clark left him in smallville to be taken care of by y/n adopted father. During Superman & Lois he is 14 (since it's 2021). He wears blue kryptonite he developed by using the Duplicator Ray on a piece of Green Kryptonite.

2021...

You don't like funerals, but you have to say goodbye to Martha Kent. She has always been there for you, she took care of you and you felt loved by her. You do wish that you can change the timeline and she would still be alive. The funeral is being held at Martha’s farm. You watch people arrive and some leave, everyone gives you sympathy.

“Y/n, do you remember me?” Clark asked.

“Yeah, you left me in Smallville to live with Martha and Johnathan,” You said.

“How are you feeling?” Clark asked.

“Sad,” You said.

“I want you to meet my family. This is my wife Lois, my sons Jordan and Jon, and my daughter Emily” Clark said.

You greeted them.

“This is my dog name, Shelby,” You said.

Shelby barked twice and you pat her head. You and Clark are not related at all, your parents were the scientists and the politicians on your home planet Krypton. His parents and your parents didn't get along very well.

You watch some people and Clark talk about Martha. You couldn't stay any longer, Lois saw you walk out, and Shelby followed you. Lois followed you to the backyard and you couldn't hold your tears.

“Sorry,” you said.

You wipe the tears away and.

“You don't have to apologize, y/n. Losing someone is never easy and it takes time to grive and move on. But she will always be in your heart and in your memories, she was an amazing women” Lois said.

“She was” You said.

You let Lois hug you and she gently rubs your back.

---

You moved in with Clark and Lois, but you spend most of your time in your bedroom. Shelby doesn't leave your side and she sleeps next to your bed or on the bed. You miss your old home and Martha. Clark went to check up on you and he sits next to you on your bed.

“How are you feeling?” Clark asked.

“I’m still feeling sad. It's hard to move on” You said.

“It is hard to move on. It will take time and it's okay to cry. But it's not a good idea to be in your room all day, maybe come us to town” Clark said.

“Can Shelby come?” You asked.

“Yeah, Shelby can come” Clark said.

You did go into town with them. They showed you around and you start to meet new people. Lois and Clark told you that you will go to the saw school as their kids. You are not exitced about it, but you didn't say anything about it.

“I can take Shelby too school?” You asked.

“Y/n, the school doesn't allowed dogs in the school. Don't worry, we will find someone to take care of Shelby” Clark said.

“That sucks” You sighed.

“It will be fine, y/n. We will go to the same school and you won't feel alone” Emily said.

“Plus we are on the football team,” Jordan said

“Okay, I guess,” You said.

✯ ✯ ✫ ✯

It's the first day of school for you. You're still sad that you can bring Shelby to school. They showed you around the school, you do have some classes with them.

“Do you like it here?” You asked.

“It’s okay. Some people can be idiots but it's okay to live here” Emily said.

“You lived somewhere else?” You asked.

“We used to live in Metropolis,” Emily said.

“Why did you move?” You asked.

“Let’s go get lunch,” Emily said.

While you eat lunch with Emily, you noticed two bullies picking on another student. The jocks are laughing and bullying the other kid. You don't like when they pour milk on his head. You stand up and walk towards them

“Leave him alone,” You said.

“Or what?” He said.

“Just leave him alone,” You said.

One of the jocks pushed you hard

“You won't do anything. Go sit down or else” He said.

“I did tell you to leave him alone but you didn't listen,” You said.

“You are a freak,” He said.

You punched him in the stomach. His friends got angry, they tried to grab you but you punched them then threw them towards the floor. One of them gets up, tried to punch you but you punched him fast. He falls now he has a bloody nose.

“Wow, thanks,” the student you helped said.

“I hate bullies” You said.

You did get in trouble, Clark and Lois did give you the speech about how fighting is not the answer. You went home with Lois and you are in your room, petting Shelby. Moments later, Emily walks in

“I wanted to check up on you, y/n,” Emily said.

“I’m okay. They gave me the speech how fighting is not the answer” You said.

“They gave that speech to Jordan and Jon. I know what it's like to be bullied” Emily said.

“What happened,” You said.

“There was a rumor spread about me and I got bullied. Everyone believed the rumor and it was a complete lie but no one cared about the truth. Jon and Jordan would get into fights defending me, I could take it and we moved away from Metropolis. Now we live here” Emily said.

“You shouldn't have gone through that,” You said.

“It's in the past. I'm glad we are not living in Metropolis” Emily said.

Later, you play with Shelby in the backyard with Emily and her brothers.

---

You are helping Lois move heavy items on the farm. You help Jon to control his strength, he is having a tough time trying not to break stuff.

“How did you get used to it?” Jon asked.

“It was hard at first. But try not to overthink or freak out that you would break it” You said.

“I will try,” Jon said.

Clark isn't around because he is saving people. You hear Clark having trouble fighting a robot.

“I have to go,” You said.

“Go where?” Jon asked.

You flew away and you use speed to catch up to Clark. Clark is using all his strength to hold the Robot’s hand away from his face. You used heat vision to distract the robot, the robot moves away from Clark then you punch the head off.

“Are you okay?” You asked.

“Thanks to you, I'm okay. How did you know?” Clark said.

“Super hearing. Sounded like you needed help, so I came and helped. I know your secret it wasn't hard to figure out” You said.

“I noticed the blue kryptonite hanging around your neck, yesterday. Why do you wear it?” Clark said.

“I’m having a hard time being on earth. I use it to hold back my powers, I messed up a few years ago, and since then I wear it around my neck” You said.

“When you feel like that, you can come to talk to me,” Clark said.

“Okay,” You said.

“Let’s go home,” Clark said.

You and Clark go home.

---

At school, you still beat up the bullies and you made some friends.

“Emily, what is a school dance?” You asked.

“You never been to a school dance?” Emily asked.

“No,” You said.

“It where everyone goes and dance together,” Emily said.

“Like a date?” You asked.

“Yes, like a date,” Emily said.

“Cool,” You said.

At home, you asked Lois how to teach you how to dance and she said yes. She is teaching you step by step and you are learning fast.

✯ ✯ ✫ ✯

You asked Emily to the dance, Clark Took you, Jordan, and Jon to get a suit. They have dates to the school dance, you're feeling excited about it.

You arrive at the school dance with Emily. She holds your hand, you start to feel nervous.

“D-do you want to dance?” You asked.

“Yeah, I do,” Emily said.

You start to dance with Emily. She smiled at you and you smiled back at her.

“I never danced with anyone before,” You said.

“It's my first time with you. Y/n, you're a good dancer” Emily said.

“Thanks. You too are a good dancer” You smiled.

Later, you and Emily sit alone and start to talk. You start to open up to her and you didn't regret it. You dance with Emily again and you can't stop smiling.

---

“I figured you would be here,” Emily said.

You're playing with Shelby, you threw a tree branch and Shelby went to get it.

“Having a dog with powers does has its perks” you said.

“Yes, it does. Y/n, I had fun at the dance” Emily said.

“Me too,” You said.

Emily kissed you on the lips and you're stunned. You didn't know what to say, she smiled and you watched her go inside the house. You did smile and you can't stop thinking about the kiss.

---

You, Jon, and Clark are racing to see who is faster.

“Who do you think will win?” Jordan asked.

“I think will be a tie,” Lois said.

“Mom will always pick dad” Emily laughed.

“And you would pick your boyfriend y/n,” Jordan said.

“Shut up!” Emily said to him.

“Boyfriend?” Lois said.

Clark did win the race, Jon has a hard time stopping when he uses speed. You almost won but you had fun racing Clark and Jon.

---

You and Emily are on a first date, she took to the ice skating rink. She is teaching you how to skate, you did fall a few times. But she is having a good time with you. Later, you and Emily sit down on a bench to take a break. You kissed her and she smiled and kissed you back.

“I like being with you, Emily” You said.

“I feel the same way, y/n” Emily smiles.

#x male reader #male!reader #superman imagine

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draw-back-your-bow · 3 years

Text

A Little White Lie | C.K

My Masterlist | Request Guidelines | Send a Request

Pairing: (Pre-Superman & Lois) Clark Kent x reader, Oliver Queen x sister!reader, Thea Queen x sister!reader

Request: “Heyyyy! I ABSOLUTELY love your Oliver Queen imagines, “Bun in the oven.” It was adorable! And I had a request, it’s fine if you don’t want to do it! Can you do one where you're Oliver Queen’s sister and secretly dating Clark Kent (Tyler Hoechlin) and you find out you’re pregnant. And like Oliver finds out and he’s like angry because you’re pregnant and were secretly dating Clark. But like he accepts it in the end and it’s a happy ending between you and Clark. And plus, your writing is amazing! No rush!” | Requested by Anonymous

A/N: This fic takes place before Crisis on Infinite Earths so it is spoiler-free! Also, let's pretend that Lois doesn’t exist (though I love her, she can’t be Clark’s girlfriend in this fic for obvious reasons). 2.5k words in, I now realize that I forgot to include the “you find out you’re pregnant” part, my apologies anon. Feel free to make another request if you would like to see the pregnancy reveal, I won’t mind. I have 100 followers!!! Thank each and every one of you guys so, so much! Summary: After having to figure it out with the help of Thea, Oliver is less than happy with you when finding out that you’ve been hiding your boyfriend of two years and your pregnancy from everyone. But good news, now you no longer have to postpone telling him.

Warnings: Pregnancy, brief implied mention of sex, brief implied mention of being heard having sex

Word Count: ~4.2k

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

Standing in front of the mirror, you gazed at your side-profile in order to decide which outfit would be the best fit for this evening.

Barry was hosting a party for those who partook in the latest crossover. You and Clark were attending since he and Kara played a crucial role in defeating the villain from outer-space. You however, were sidelined from the fight ever since you and Clark discovered that you were expecting.

Your boyfriend’s insistence that you opt out of the superhero team-up was met with much rebuttal on your part. It also caused confusion from everyone as to why a former Team Arrow member would sit out of a battle, especially one including aliens.

But after hearing Clark’s reasoning, you begrudgingly agreed and decided to tell everyone that you were feeling under the weather and wouldn’t be of much help.

Of course, your dishonesty led to a spiral of lies when people started to show up at the door of you and Clark’s shared apartment with tissues, cards, and various different soups.

You had never lied to your friends as much in one day as you had to do so a few days ago. Plus, you had to put on your best ‘sick’ act for the master detectives that were your allies. Lying to people who regularly faced depict and deception was no easy task.

Alas, you prevailed once you told them the virus you had was contagious, and you could not, in good conscience, expose your friends to it.

But now since the intergalactic war was over, you no longer had to make up excuses for why you couldn’t see them.

Still staring at the reflection of your barely-there bump, you hardly noticed the door to your bedroom open as the six foot Man of Steel made his way over to embrace you from behind.

Placing his hands over your stomach, Clark leaned his head against the back of yours and followed your stare into the mirror.

“Penny for your thoughts?” he asked, his eyes meeting your reflection’s.

You tilted your head to look in a different angle before humming, “I have no idea what to wear.”

Clark lifted his eyebrows and moved to stand in front of you. Taking your face into his hands, he questioned, “You’re serious?”

You huffed, “Yes, Clark! Look at me! We haven’t even told anyone that we’re dating, much less have a child! My bump could give it all away!”

A large, incredulous grin spread across his face at your proclamation, but it softened once you took your eyes off of your appearance to glare at him.

“Babe,” he started, placing one hand on your stomach while the other cupped your cheek, “It’s only been a month and you’ve barley grown. In fact, if we didn’t already know that you were pregnant, then we wouldn’t suspect anything.”

You leaned your forehead against his and looked down at your bump before sighing, “I guess so. It isn’t even that big when you look at it like this.”

Clark chuckled at your observation, adding, “Plus, Kara didn’t even think anything of it, and you know how she notices everything. She only knows because of that one time she heard us-”

You squeezed your eyelids shut and shook your head in an attempt to rid that particular memory from your brain before interrupting him, “I thought we all agreed to never recall that unfortunate incident. It’ll be added onto the list of reasons you shouldn’t want super-hearing.”

Clark chuckled and pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaning down to kiss your stomach. “Of course, sweetie. If you’d prefer, we could ask J’onn to erase it from our memories.”

You gasped, having a newfound appreciation for the Martian, “Could we really?”

Clark mused, “I’m sure he would do it if we asked. Though I’m not sure how he’d feel about having the memory himself.”

Your face scrunched up, “Ew, no. Never mind then, I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Clark laughed once again and although you knew that it was probably impossible, you wished that he could develop smile lines just so your history together could be documented on your faces.

But even though they may not be displayed on his, your face had started developing enough laugh lines for the both of you, thanks to Clark.

In the blink of an eye, your boyfriend sped to the closet and came back holding an outfit he’d seen you wear often.

“Here, how about this one?”

You gasped, “Oh Clark, this one’s my favorite!”

He chuckled while pretending to inspect the dress he’d seen on you a million times, “Is it really, we’ve only been dating for two years, I haven’t noticed.”

You gave him a playful slap on the chest which only resulted in a laugh from him. Taking the dress from his hands, you moved to get ready for the party.

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

“So did you come here with someone?” Thea pressed, which you only replied with an incredulous look.

“No… I’m here because I’m a part of the team. Ya know, as I have been for three years now.”

Thea groaned, “You know what I mean, you’ve been single for an unbelievable amount of time now! What has it been, two years since your last date?”

Clark walked over smugly, tilting his head with an innocent expression displayed on his face, “Wow, two years? Are you sure you don’t have a special someone waiting for you at home?”

Thea nodded to Clark’s question and you narrowed your eyes at the game he was playing. Considering the number of drinks she was knocking back, you doubted she would catch on.

“Well now that you mention it, Clark, there is someone I’ve been seeing. He’s a real catch.”

Thea gaped in excitement, “I knew there was someone!”

Oliver walked over to join your triangle and cut-in, “Who are we talking about?”

You assumed his sudden appearance was due to the big brother alarm going off in his head. Before he could interrogate you about who you were seeing, you came ‘clean’.

“Nothing Ollie. Thea just has in her head, which has had way too many drinks, that I have a secret boyfriend or something.” To emphasize your supposed disbelief, you scoffed. Which based on Clark’s wide eyes telling you to quit while you were still ahead, did not sound as convincing as you hoped it would.

“Well, do you?” Oliver narrowed his eyes at you, already prepared to crucify anyone who dared show any romantic interest in you. But luckily he wouldn’t hurt Clark, he couldn’t hurt Clark.

Or at least not without his kryptonite arrows… which he probably only had that one of… hopefully.

You forced a laugh at the accusation. Clark, always knowing what was best, decided to leave the circle pretending like his super-hearing picked up on Alex calling him over.

“What? Me?” you sputtered, “Never.”

Oliver opened his mouth to point out your obvious lie but you cut him off, “But enough of me, how are you and Felicity. I mean… talk about slow-burn. Plus Thea, you’re still texting Roy, right?”

Oliver spun to look at Thea and now it was her turn to falter, “Okay, first of all, I told you that in confidence. And secondly, yeah Oliver, what is going on with Felicity? Diggle and I have been picking up some weird vibes in the bunker-”

Oliver stopped Thea before she could continue on about his love life. Turning back to you, Oliver questioned, “You seem to have gotten better from whatever you had. What was it again?”

You stuttered, “I… Well… You know, just a common flu.”

“Common… flu?” Thea asked, starting to pick up on your strange behavior.

“Yeah,” you confirmed, furiously nodding before gesturing to where Barry was, “Anyways, I should really go catch up. I haven’t seen them in a while.”

Thea started, “Didn’t you have lunch with Iris a couple days-”

You cut her off, “Bye!”

With that, you quickly walked over to where Barry and Iris were conversing with Sara, not bothering to turn back and look at your perplexed sister and suspicious brother.

“Hey guys!” You greeted, “Long time no see.”

Iris chuckled, “If you consider three days a long time, then yeah, it’s been a while.”

You laughed at her joke before hugging Sara, her being the only one that you’ve actually not seen in a while. “You however, I have not seen in a bit. Which is weird considering you’re the captain of a time machine.”

Sara smiled, returning your embrace before shrugging, “Well you know, life gets busy when you're saving the world, or time in my case.”

“Actually,” Barry interjected, “You haven’t been doing much world-saving lately, what’s that about?”

You mentally sighed, having amazing friends that were always worried about you was a blessing and a curse. “Just normal stuff, I got sick and took some time off. No biggie.”

Before you had to further explain yourself, Kara was tapping her glass to get everyone’s attention. All the heroes in the room gathered around for her speech, and Alex was passing around champagne so you assumed she was making a toast.

When handed a flute, you set it on the table and retrieved a glass of water.

After a speech that was, in true Kara fashion, heartfelt and well stated, Kara raised her glass and ended, “To us!”

Everyone echoed her toast and clinked their glasses together. Throughout all the movement, Clark found his way to your side and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his side.

“To us.” He smiled, clinking his glass, which was also water, with yours.

You repeated, “To us.”

Nuzzling into his side, you sighed in content. All your worries seemed to have floated away and all you had to do was be happy here, with Clark, surrounded by your loved ones.

Unfortunately, as quick as it started, it ended. You spotted Sara and Ava advancing towards you both, so you quickly detached from your boyfriend so as to not appear too cozy with him.

You knew that you wouldn’t be able to hide your boyfriend and baby from your family for much longer. But you could at least get through the night without breaking the news.

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After the party, there were only a few guests left cleaning up. Barry and Kara were speeding around, collecting abandoned cups. Meanwhile, you and Oliver were taking down decorations.

Clark had argued against you helping with the clean-up. He suggested that you instead went home with him to relax after socializing at the party, claiming that these types of events could be stressful and thereby hurt the baby.

But you dismissed his advice and instead told him that you both arriving and leaving at the same time would be suspicious.

So when guests started to trickle out, Clark begrudgingly went home. His only reassurance being your promise to rest your feet and that you wouldn’t stay for too long.

Stepping down from the ladder, you clutched the elongated tool when your head started spinning as a result of your sudden descent.

Oliver noticed your scrunched face and grabbed your shoulder to steady you. “Hey, easy there. You look nauseous.”

You regained your balance and sat on a nearby chair, taking a sip of your water. You waved him off, “I’m fine. Just a little tired from today.”

Oliver gave you an incredulous look, crossing his arms and standing in front of you, “Are you sure? We used to go to galas and such all the time, except with people we didn’t like, and even then, you’ve never looked this drained.”

You opened your mouth to give your usual explanation of being ‘sick’, but Oliver cut you off before you could begin, “I know you weren’t sick. I’ve lived down the hall from you for years, I know what you’re like when you're sick.”

He continued, “You’ve been drinking strictly water all evening, no alcohol which is out of character, even for you. I also couldn’t help but notice the only other person drinking water… Clark.”

Unable to come up with something that would explain all of his findings without admitting your relationship with Clark, you sputtered, “You’ve been spying on Clark and I all night?!”

Oliver scoffed at you, “Is that all you have to say?”

“That’s all there is to say.” you retorted.

Oliver sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and started pacing. “After all this time, Thea was the one who figured it out.” he mumbled.

You gaped, “Figure what out, Ollie?”

He snapped his head towards you, “That you’re pregnant! With Clark Kent’s child no less.”

You stood up defensively, “What about it being Clark’s baby?”

Oliver stared into your eyes with the same look your father gave him years ago, anytime he did something wrong. “As your older brother, you should not have kept this from me.”

You gave a dry laugh, “Oliver, I don’t have to have your permission to date someone.”

“No, but you shouldn’t have lied to everyone about it either. We were all worried about you, but the only problem you had was your inability to tell us the truth for years now.”

You felt tears prick the corners of your eyes and grabbed your jacket. Scoffing, you spit out, “Well Oliver, you're not exactly known for being forthcoming either. So no, I didn’t tell you. But that was only because I knew that this would be exactly how you would react.”

You knew your words weren’t fair, but neither were his. So before either one of you could apologize, you stormed out of the apartment. Not bothering to wave goodbye to Kara or Barry as you were too caught up in your own anger.

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Sniffing into the tissues Clark had brought, you snuggled further into your bed. Sure, you’ve fought with Oliver before, but the pregnancy had heightened all of your emotions.

So now, the afternoon after your fight with Oliver, you were still stuck in bed, lying in the same position you’ve been in since morning.

You and Clark’s shared bed was covered with tissues, and not even the breakfast in bed he provided featuring Martha’s ‘famous’ pancakes was enough to make you feel better.

Running his hand over your hair for what was sure to have been the billionth time since 7 a.m. when you woke up crying, Clark rubbed his other hand over your belly comfortingly.

He had been trying to coax you out of bed all day, but you refused to leave. And after telling him of the conversation which took place the night before with Oliver, you had to convince him not to pummel your brother and instead stay with you.

When hearing that you needed his comfort in that moment, he relented from his onslaught on Oliver. However, you knew that the next time Clark saw your brother, things would get icy. Hopefully, not literally.

You doubted that Oliver would actually use kryptonite against Clark. But you also had doubted that he would be anything less than overjoyed at the news of your pregnancy, so you could be wrong about the kryptonite thing too.

You hoped that you wouldn’t have to see Oliver again… ever.

And while you knew that you were probably overreacting, you couldn’t help but feel hurt at Oliver’s words. He’s also had his fair share of lies, and you were sure that he still had some.

That being why him getting so angry at you for doing the exact same thing hurt so deeply. Plus, was keeping the little white lie of your boyfriend and baby really as serious as Oliver’s lies which put the lives of his teammates in danger.

In your opinion, no. Your secret was not as bad.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a shower?” Clark pressed on, “I’m sure that you would feel a lot better if you did. Staying in bed all day isn’t good for you or the baby.”

You frowned when he brought up the infant growing inside of you. Your expression was because he was right, you sulking wasn’t good for you or the baby. Especially the baby.

So while you could be mad at Oliver all you wanted, you would only be making your own child suffer for it. So with a determined expression, you pressed a kiss to Clarks lips and stood up out of bed, ready to go make yourself presentable.

But alas, before you even step towards the bathroom, a knock resonated throughout the apartment, and you and Clark exchanged questioning glances since neither one of you was expecting a visitor.

Your boyfriend squinted in the direction of the door and you knew he was using his x-ray vision to see who was knocking.

At Clark’s huff in exasperation and you asked him, “Who is it?”

But rather than answering your question, he stormed out to answer the door, and you followed suit after slipping on a robe, curious to see who elicited such a hostile response from your usually hospitable boyfriend.

However when Clark opened the door, his actions made a lot more sense when you saw a peak of the sibling you spent the entire morning crying over.

“Can I help you?” Clark demanded, his voice monotone and lacking the Kansas friendliness Martha had instilled in him.

While Oliver had never been one to feel threatened, or at least admit to it, you could see him puffing out his chest in a pointless attempt to match Clark’s build.

Oliver’s eyes drifted past Clark’s large frame blocking most of the doorway, and his eyes met yours.

Ignoring Clark’s question, Oliver disregarded the man in front of him and spoke to you, “I need to talk to you.”

You unfolded your crossed arms at his statement. You wanted to talk to your brother and make things right, you just didn’t want to be the only one apologizing.

Clark cut in, “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

Oliver narrowed his eyes at Clark, not feeling too fond of the man keeping him from his little sister. But Clark only matched his stare, refusing to back down.

You knew that it wasn’t a good idea to let two men who were equally protective of you hash out their own problems with each other. So you stepped in.

Nudging Clark out the way, he hesitantly stepped back, his eyes unwavering from Oliver.

“Come in.” You invited, stepping back and gesturing inside.

Oliver nodded, appreciating your willingness to hear him out. His eyes scanned over the cozy apartment you shared with Clark. You led him through the living room to the kitchen table. Sitting down, you became aware of the large case he was holding.

Oliver took the seat in front of you, and crossed his arms. His lips pressed in a thin line.

Clark, having followed you both to the table, was leaning on the doorway. Ready to observe the conversation and step in if needed.

Oliver’s voice cut through the silence. “I should apologize.”

Having grown up with him, you knew he was stubborn and this was what his apologies were like. But nevertheless, you pressed, “You probably should.”

He gave you an annoyed look, but continued, “I am sorry for losing my temper last night. You’ve always forgiven me for… keeping things from you, and I should have done the same.”

You nodded, pleased with his admission. However, before you could apologize yourself, he continued.

“But, I would appreciate it if from here on out, you would tell me of any other major events that happen in your life.” Oliver asked you, his eyes eying Clark.

You nodded, ignoring his accusing glare towards your boyfriend. “Thank you Ollie, I know how hard that must have been for you. But I’d also like to say that I’m sorry, for keeping the baby and Clark from you and everyone else. I promise that from now on, I will tell you of any other big news I may have.”

Oliver nodded, now shifting his attention to the black case, and sliding it towards you. You tilted your head at it, furrowing your eyebrows at him in a silent question.

“This is all the Kryptonite I have.”

You gaped, mouth open and ready to shoot off questions. But Clark beat you to it, demanding, “Why do you have Kryptonite?”

Oliver’s eyes met yours while explaining, “In case of emergency, I kept it. But I am trusting that you will do the right thing with it.”

You pulled the case towards yourself and set it on the floor, diverting your eyes to Clark, who’s stance was softening now that the case was in your possession.

“Thank you Ollie, that means a lot.”

Checking the time on the wall clock, it was nearing 2 p.m. and you realized you haven’t yet eaten lunch. Standing up from the chair, you asked Oliver, “Would you like to stay? We still haven’t eaten lunch and I’m sure I could whip something up.”

Clark gave a nervous chuckle and ushered for you to sit back down. “No, no. I can make lunch. You stay here and talk to Oliver. You really should get some rest.”

You frowned at him, “Are you sure? Martha gave me a great recipe for club sandwiches. I’m a great chef.”

Clark nervously scratched behind his neck and Oliver coughed.

Clark sputtered, “Well… you know. I’m sure I can handle a sandwich.”

You narrowed your eyes, switching your gaze between Clark and Oliver’s nervous expressions. Connecting the dots in your head, you now understood their uneasiness.

“Come on guys, I’m a great cook.”

Oliver raised an eyebrow, “You have managed to burn every grilled cheese you’ve ever made.”

You scoffed, “How could you possibly know that?”

“Honey,” Clark started, “You have.”

You sighed, sinking into the chair. But a smirk spread across your face when you rebutted, “Fine then. If I’m such a horrible cook as you two insist, then you both can make lunch together.”

The boys in front of you shared a look of disgust and crossed their arms, opening their mouths to refuse.

But before they could get a word out, you pushed them both into the kitchen, them being too flabbergasted at your suggestion to resist.

“Have fun boys. We’ll be expecting lunch out here in half an hour.” You called, referring to yourself and the baby.

Closing the sliding door to the kitchen, you made you way over to the living room and fell into the couch. Reaching over to grab the remote, you turned on a random channel. Though you turned the volume down so you could hear the bickering happening in the kitchen.

Neither Clark nor Oliver left the room you appointed them to, not wanting to face your wrath. But they didn’t surrender peacefully either. Neither man was willing to listen to the other’s suggestion for lunch.

Since Oliver’s city recipes conflicted with Clark’s midwestern ones. They both had a very different idea of what should be served.

However you knew that they’d figure it out eventually. Though as the minutes passed, your 30 minute deadline became further and further out of reach.

But setting the day’s lunch menu aside, all that mattered to you was that the two most important men in your life got along. Besides, the closer Clark and Oliver came to reconciliation, the more your secret was disregarded as simply a little white lie.

▣▣▣▣▣ Thanks For Reading! ▣▣▣▣▣

#a little white lie #clark kent #supergirl #arrowverse #superman #superman and lois #myarrowverse #mywriting #imagine #x reader #fanfiction #reader insert

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redhoodssweetheart · 3 years

Text

Flowers in My Lungs Part Two

Genre: Hanahaki AU

Pairing: Clark Kent x Gender Neutral!Reader

Requested: Yes (REQUESTS ARE CLOSED, this was for my 1.5K follower celebration)

Word Count: 1.5K

Warnings: Talks of death, flowers growing in the lungs, angst, unrequited love

Description: It’s been six months since the last of the flowers disappeared from your lungs. In that time you’ve written a book based on your experiences and are now on a book tour. Your first stop? Metropolis. How will seeing Clark go?

A/N: The ending is purposefully left open. I didn’t know if people would want a happy, sad, or a neutral ending. I can write a third and final part if people would like to see one or the other, or you can decide for yourself what happens between the Reader and Clark. Also the request was for a fem!Reader, but the first part was Gender Neutral. I don’t use female pronouns or even they/them in here.

It had been six months since the last of the flowers disappeared from your lungs. It had taken a lot of hardwork and determination, but with the help of therapists and doctors alike you had managed to beat the Hanahaki disease and get better. You had even turned your pain into a book that quickly became a New York Times bestseller. While it was listed under fiction you had based it off your own story, although it had a happy end compared to yours.

Now you were being interviewed on a morning television show that the Daily Planet hosted. It was the first time you had been back to Metropolis since healing and you were a little nervous. Everyone knew that you were in town talking about your new book and that meant that Clark knew as well.

You wondered if he would try to talk to you. Were you ready for that?

“Good morning everyone and please welcome Y/N Y/L/N, the author of the wildly popular novel Flowers in My Lungs!” Kerry turned to face you, a smile plastered on her face, “Thank you for coming on the show.”

You smiled back, though your stomach was turning uneasily. This was the first interview you had done since your book released and you knew everyone was dying to find out the juicy details behind it. “Thank you for having me,” you responded.

“I know you’ve said that this was based on your own battle with Hanahaki, and your main character is somewhat based off of you, but what about Jack? Who is he based on?” Kerry asked, hunger in her eyes as she thought you would unload the truth right there and she would get the biggest scoop before any other reporters.

You tried not to squirm as you felt every gaze in the room on you as you thought of how to best answer this question. “I’d rather not say who it is,” you told her. “I don’t want to put them on blast like that. It wasn’t their fault that I wound up getting Hanahaki disease. Blaming me or them does no good, you can’t help your feelings and I don’t want anyone to go and send hate to this person.”

“Could you at least tell us a little about your relationship with them? Was it like your characters in your book?”

“We were really good friends, and I happened to fall in love with him. After a while I started to cough up the flower petals and I knew what was happening.” You took in a deep breath trying to compose yourself. “I hate that it happened and I haven’t seen or talked to him since it all went down.”

“Do you think you’ll ever talk to him again?” She asked.

“I hope so,” you said truthfully. “I do miss him.”

You had to go to commercial and when your eyes scanned the room you saw Clark standing at the back, hidden in the shadows. He smiled when he noticed you looking and you gave him one back before looking away before Kerry noticed the two of you. The commercial break ended and thankfully the next set of questions were more about your writing style and other inspirations for how your story played out plus what the disease was like while you were trying to heal from it.

After the interview you headed up to the main offices of the Daily Planet where you knew you’d find Clark at his desk. He was sitting there typing away as you approached and didn’t look up until you said, “Hey stranger.”

“Hey,” Clark stood, surprised to see you. He clearly hadn’t thought you’d come up to see him.

“Long time no see,” you leaned against his desk, your arms crossed over your chest so that he couldn’t see how badly your hands were shaking. He was still as handsome as ever, and you had to remind yourself that you were in a better place now. Those old feelings weren’t going to come rushing back just because you were in the same room as him. “How’ve you been?”

“Good,” he said, nodding his head slightly. “I’m glad you’re doing better… I worried about you when you were away.”

You gave him a small smile, “I worried about you too, Clark.”

He hesitated for a moment and then asked, “Do you want to have dinner tonight, like old times? If not that’s okay, but I’d really like to have a chance to talk with you.”

You nodded your head and said, “That sounds great. How about tonight at six?”

“That sounds fine, I’ll order in that way we don’t have to deal with anyone bugging you,” he said. He knew that your book had blown up and any interactions would be scrutinized and that someone would assume that he could be the one that caused you to have Hanahaki disease. They would be right, but he knew that you didn’t want to bring any trouble to his door.

You could have blasted him and told the world that Clark Kent was the man that gave you the disease, that you had fallen in love with your best friend, but he didn’t love you back. It had been heartbreaking, but people were entitled to their feelings. He had only ever seen you as a friend and you didn’t fault him for that.

When the day ended you headed to Clark’s, you would be leaving in a few days to make it to your next stop on the book tour. You were nervous for the rest of your travels so you were glad that you could have one night of peace with a friend. Was it weird that you still considered him a friend even though you hadn’t spoken in ages?

You had known one another for a long time that you didn’t think you would ever stop considering him a friend even if things never went back to how they were. He was still important to you.

Knocking on his door he quickly came to greet you, already you could smell a delicious aroma and knew that he had chosen your favorite place. You sighed happily as you stepped into his apartment, “Just as I remember it.”

He smiled sheepishly, “Is that a good thing?”

You patted his arm, “It’s comforting, don’t be so nervous Clark. We’ve had dinner together hundreds of times.”

“I know, but… things are different now,” he said, his sheepish smile dropping to a look of regret. “I just don’t want to upset you.”

“Clark if you’re afraid flowers are just going to start sprouting in my lungs again don’t. I’m fine,” you reassured him. “Now let's eat!”

Once the awkwardness faded away the two of you picked up like old times and you had a wonderful evening with him. You told him stories of people you had met in your counseling group and how wild they were as you all tried to find reasons to smile despite the pain the flowers caused. He was relieved to hear that you had support by your side as you went through therapy and treatments to help.

Halfway through desert he began coughing and at first everything was fine until you noticed a petal land on the table. Your eyes widened as you realized what this meant. Clark had Hanahaki disease. “I didn’t want you to know,” he said, his eyes not meeting yours as he crushed the petal in his hand.

“Who?” Your voice was soft.

“Lois,” he leaned his head back and stared at the ceiling. “It just started.”

Your heart broke for him, “At least it just started, the pain won’t be unbearable yet. It’ll be easier to reverse.”

“How?” He looked at you then, turning his head so that his gaze met yours. “I work with her, Y/N/N. I see her on a near constant basis. You were able to walk away, you didn’t have to see me all the time. She is a constant reminder of what’s happening inside me.”

You wracked your brain trying to find an answer or solution to Clark’s problem. “Come with me,” you said suddenly, startling him.

“What?”

“On my tour, you can follow me and write a story about me. No holds barred. No question too big or small. You’re the only person I would trust enough to do this with. You could get away from Metropolis and Lois and heal. If it’s still in the early stages it’s easier to reverse.” He still looked unsure. “Please just think about it. I leave in a few days, text me and let me know what you decide regardless if you come or not.”

He studied you and asked, “Are you sure?”

Rolling your eyes you smirked, “I wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t sure.”

“I’ll think about it,” he promised.

Dinner ended shortly after that and you gave him a hug before you left. All the way to your hotel you wondered if Clark would take you up on your offer, and you wondered what would happen from here.

#Clark Kent x Reader #Clark Kent x Reader angst #Clark Kent #Clark Kent fanfic #Clark Kent fanfiction #Clark Kent angst #Requested

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