Dc X Reader - Blog Posts

I'm cursing out everybody who had me fooled thinking he was extremely tall. All this time, this mf was only 3 inches taller than me?!😒 Why is reader always petite in every fanfic? justice for tall readers.

I just figured out Jason Todd is only 6ft. People are writing him like he's 10ft and 70 fucking inches across both width and height. Sure he's big but homeboy I reach his chin if not a bit over it. Y'all made me think he's abnormally tall.

Me as soon as the fic mentions “Y/N” only for it to be described as an OC, being extremely submissive and childish or uses some dumbass pet-name like “puppy”🥀🥀

Wattpad

The Space Witch

Katrina was not from this world. She is the last of her people, the last of her kind. A queen with no kingdom, a ruler...

Hello all this is my first fanfiction based of Young Justice, the cartoon, check it out!

Mushy ~ Nightwing

A/n: So I haven’t written in a while huh? Well let’s not dwell on that that... or the fact that this request came in like centuries ago didkdkdkd

Request: “(a member of the team) and dick are already in a relationship but neither bothered to tell anyone. whenever the two are with the team or (anyone really) they just keep each other company & don't interact much in front of people (both are content with this tho) so the team find out by walking in on them when they're alone at the base and being lovey dovey dorks 💙 (a bet may have been made among a few of the members)” by anon!

Word Count: 2600+

Warnings: Brief violence. Pain. Kinda graphic.

MASTERLIST

Dating was hard. So was being a super hero. Combining the two was a whole other level of ridiculous.

Dick had far too much experience with dating people he worked with. He had never been one to push separating pleasure from business if the opportunity arose, but Y/n always had been. They had watched Dick go through girlfriends one after the other - and it was always ruined by being a superhero. Seeing that Dick wasn’t one to be a player, and ended on good terms in all of those relationships, it was obvious that dating superheroes didn’t work. So when Y/n started to have feelings for him...

Listen having feelings for Richard Grayson was one thing. It was risky on its own. Dick was a great guy but he also had a lot of responsibility and it left little time for a relationship. Which meant that when Dick called Y/n out on their feelings, Y/n made him set immediate rules if they were going to date. He had to treat them like any of the other team - they could take care of themself, it wasn’t his job to take care of them. With that, no PDA. They couldn’t be coupley - it was distracting and if they didn’t end up working out it would mess up the team. Dick, more than willing to go through the relationship and try it out however it needed to go, agreed immediately. He had tried the open and adorable and flirty thing and it had failed, so why not try something new?

It was surprisingly easy. The two had already worked well before, but as they grew to love each other even more and learn more about the other, their trust and understanding grew. They went from functional to exceptional. Any team with both of them would succeed - no matter what. They didn’t have to talk, a simple touch or look and they understood each other. The team tried to communicate as much as possible and with Megan connecting everyone telepathically it wasn’t often needed, but when it was? Everyone was very grateful for the new dynamic duo.

As much as Y/n and Dick were very lowkey and casual, their growing connection went very noticed by everyone around them. It started with their closest friends of course, but very quickly branched out to even those who didn’t know them well. Even without the usual flirting and blushing and flusterness they were used to seeing with in-team dating, they had an undeniable chemistry. An energy, like a chord that tied them together. So thick and present that it was almost tangible.

They always sat and stood close to each other, and even if they never were touchier than with anyone else or didn’t explicitly move to be together, it was odd that they just happened to be side by side. Like they were subconsciously staying close by each other even if there was nothing going on. They came and left together a lot, usually passing it off as being engaged in some kind of conversation or plan. They usually went on patrol together unless they had a specific need for someone else or Dick was taking one of the other Robins for mentor stuff.

They just... clicked. And everyone could tell.

It became very normal for the two to be casual, even though they’d been dating only a few months. They went on dates, and the Batfam all knew they were dating of course - even without talking about it. They still had their domestic and romantic moments as well. They just got used to existing together. That was their love language.

That changed one day when Y/n got hurt.

Dick had been back at the compound. It was a big mission and Y/n had ended up with Tim. The two weren’t as fluid as Y/n and Dick, but they did have a certain flow that Bruce and Dick both thought would be a good influence for Tim. So the duo had set out, and for a while everything had been okay. It was only a recon mission - get intel, get out. They had underestimated security though and Y/n had barely pulled Tim out of the way of an arrow that sunk into a wood wall where Tim’s head had been.

The fight wasn’t too bad. The thugs were slow and awkward. They were used to Tim - this was Gotham after all and Red Robin wasn’t a new player in the game - but they had never seen Y/n before and as they were a super powered individual and not just a well stocked tool belt and incredible amount of smarts, the usual tricks that were used against the Batfam... didn’t work on Y/n.

The problem arose in numbers. There were so many of them, and it was far too soon that the two were outnumbered and back to back as even their combined efforts were not showing any openings to snag an upper hand. Y/n, whose powers were based on the flight their wings gave them, was not having an easy time maneuvering in such a small space as the thugs closed in. And they could have just flown off, but there were snipers on the roof and they couldn’t move fast enough to get out of range while also carrying Tim. They’d have been shot down. Even now it was risky - they were lucky they were in the cover of so many trees.

There was the sound of some kind of gun - not armed with bullets, as it soon became obvious, but anchors that caught Y/n’s wings and yanked. Hard. They dodged several of the things, but it made it even harder to fight while trying to hide their large target wings from such attacks while also fighting the other people. Tim eventually got caught up in the dodging, fighting, and trying to avoid messing up Y/n, and slammed into their back on accident. The space they both had was too small now and Y/n tripped, losing their balance. It left an opening for one of the anchors finally implanted into the side of Y/n’s right wing. All the person had to do was yank and they weren’t only thrown off balance - they were distracted by an incredibly sharp pain that wracked their entire body.

Dick was screaming in Y/n’s ear piece, something about back up coming and being careful and holding in there and- and something else, but Tim and Y/n couldn’t pay attention or respond. Tim was suddenly doubled up on enemies as another anchor hit the bottom of Y/n’s right wing, and then another hit their left finally. They were being yanked, this time in three very different directions. Not only the pain of being pulled like that, but also in near opposite directions - like being pulled in half - set their body on fire.

They were blinded by vision that was going white with agony, a scream ripping from them with every yank. It went from fighting to defending as they simply tried to pry off the anchors and push the other people away from them. But it was too much and another anchor caught them - this time sinking into their arm. Seconds later their opposite leg was caught too, and they couldn’t even move. Dick had gone silent and Tim had taken his place, screaming Y/n’s name. But they had been separated and he had his own problems to deal with.

In the end, backup got there just in time. Y/n had been caught in several places, and was immobile as they got the shit kicked out of them. Garth, M’gann and Zatana showed up in time for the rescue, finishing off the rest of the thugs and scooping Y/n and Tim onto the ship and away from Gotham. They all returned to the cave alive, even as Y/n had been very messed up.

It wasn’t long before Y/n was okay. They had been out of commission for about a week, more for psychological reasons than physical ones. The team had a healer now and Y/n had only let her in, wanting to be alone for a while to go through the course of events in their head and process what had happened. Black Canary had helped, and then they were back and just fine, if a little sensitive wing wise and a little jumpy when it came to missions.

Dick hadn’t seen his partner in a week. They had texted and called, but they had begged him to give them a second because they were having a hard time handling what had happened. Dick had tried to come out of costume and without the team, but things kept coming up - suddenly a week was gone. Y/n understood and soothed his worry and guilt, but it still didn’t change that when they finally were back, Dick was a little protective.

When one of the younger kids asked about it, Dick explained that as team leader he felt very guilty for being partly responsible for the harm that Y/n experienced that night. It was a good excuse, especially as everyone on the team cared very deeply about each other and everyone felt just as upset about Y/n being hurt as Dick did (if maybe a little less, as Dick was their boyfriend). Even as valid as it was, they all knew the truth. They couldn’t imagine what it would be like to watch someone you loved go through that, so everyone gave them as much space as possible.

It was early morning and everyone was either not awake, at school, or at work. Y/n had switched to online school, excusing it as being super sick. They usually bind their wings for public stuff and it was just fine, but with their new sensitivities it had grown from slightly annoying to suffocating and even painful. Not wanting to stay home and worry their parents, they had taken to doing school in the cave. Dick had graduated, so he no longer had school and he didn’t need to work so when he didn’t want to - he didn’t. That meant that even early like it was, Y/n was sat on the couch with their laptop, backpack, and notes out, wings stretch out and resting gently, when Dick entered the cave.

Immediately Y/n rose an eyebrow. “You never come over this early,” they pointed out.

Dick shrugged. “I know you’ve been having a hard time sleeping with your wings, so I gaurentee you slept in and haven’t eaten breakfast yet.”

Usually Y/n wouldn’t hesitate to call him out on such a blatant excuse to be around them, but honestly he was right and they were very happy to see him. On top of that, they hated to be alone and no one else was in the cave so they could be a little coupley without it being a big deal.

“Fine,” they relented. Dick, who had predicted as much, was already starting his work in the kitchen. Y/n didn’t bother him with questions or breakfast cravings - Dick knew their favorites and preferences. Instead they focused on class, headphones in and pen working across their sheet as they took notes along with the lesson. It seemed only minutes later when Dick appeared next to them. He set two plates down, and then left again to return with two glasses of orange juice as well. He set the glasses on the coffee table where he had put the plates before. Then he plopped onto the couch next to them. His arm went around their shoulders, holding then to him rather than just resting like they usually did. There was a desperation to it - almost like he was reassuring himself they were there at all.

Y/n didn’t give him crap for throwing them off balance and almost making them drop their laptop. They just readjusted and curled into his side. On one knee they watched the stream and on the other they balanced the plate they had grabbed. They ate as they watched and Dick watched with them. He snagged an ear bud and they listened together. When Y/n got confused - he could tell because they froze while eating - he would quickly explain it a different way and they’d nod before continuing.

Once they were done eating, Dick gathered the dirty dishes and left the couch. He cleaned it all up before returning with a large blanket. Y/n smiled as he settled next to them again, this time full pulling them almost into his lap. They chuckled, readjusting once again. “You’re being incredibly distracting Richard,” they teased.

Dick smiled softly. “How ever will you cope?”

They looked at him, an eyebrow quirked in an annoyed expression. Unfortunately their blush ruined it, especially as their lips curled into a smile. “I suppose I’ll tolerate you. Just a little.” They both chuckled and then leaned forward, stealing a long, gentle kiss. His hand rose to cup their face, thumb brushing their cheek and jaw over and over again. Comforting. Loving. They sighed into the kiss, melting into him completely.

Finally Y/n pulled away and they cuddled closer, Y/n’s head falling on Dick’s shoulder and their legs draped over his lap. They returned their attention to the class, Dick’s chin resting on top of Y/n’s head. He caught them up on what they’d missed while distracted by him and they laughed breathily. They were practically glowing as he held them. It was an incredible relief to be reunited after such a harrowing experience and time apart. Perhaps it was why they stayed like that even as the first class ended and the second started.

What they notice was that time was passing. They knew it logically, but both were immersed in the class and their own reunion and the relief and comfort and love they both felt - they didn’t even register the ticking of the clock or the rising of the sun, let alone Connor coming into the room to get some breakfast of his own.

Connor stopped in the doorway, surprised to see the couple so... coupley, I guess. There was something so tender and domestic about them cuddling up, chatting about class when Y/n needed it. Connor almost felt like he was walking into a personal bedroom, witnessing a very private and intimate moment. He had never seen them so like this, and his definition of love between them had become standing close and making eye contact while talking. This was a whole new level of precious.

When the shock wore off, a glowing grin took his place. Someone walked up behind him. “What are you-“ the voice that obviously belonged to Raquel cut off with a gasp as she noticed the same scene he had. “Oh my god.”

Connor chuckled. Y/n and Dick looked over just in time for Connor to hold out his palm, and Raquel, speechless, reached into her pocket and pulled out a ten dollar bill. She placed it in his hand and he smirked before going to make breakfast.

They had made a wager on whether Y/n and Dick were together or not. Interesting.

Dick smiled to himself. “We should do this more often. I like seeing their reactions to us.”

Y/n hummed, nodding. “Okay.” Their answer made Dick soften, and he sunk deeper into the couch like he had gone a little limp.

Raquel shook her head before moving to the kitchen with Connor. Now that she had gotten over her shock she was determined for breakfast as well. She simply looked at Connor and rolled her eyes. “Simp.”

Connor actually snorted in amusement. “You’re surprised?”

That made Raquel giggle. “Fair enough.”

This man could put me in a chokehold anytime!!! ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡(✿ ♥‿♥)(✿ ♥‿♥). ( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

content — black fem! reader, mirror sex, fingering, chokehold, dumbification, backshots, deep penetration, praise, jason talks you through it.

nsfw content ☆ 18+ minors dni. ageless & blank blogs will be blocked

jason todd is the type to fuck you in front of a mirror when he wants to prove a point to you. feeling insecure? he’ll make you watch your reflection while he holds you, his chest to your back as he pumps his fingers in and out of your hot, sticky pussy.

feeling bratty? he has no problem providing you with an attitude adjustment, one massive bicep flexing around your neck and the other holding you by the hip to keep you steady while he pounds you from behind. he stares you down the whole time, grinning smugly at the way you whine and babble for more.

and his absolute favorite? he loves fucking you in prone bone after you’ve had a long day, his weight pressing you into the mattress so he can reach nice and deep. he’ll hold your chin in one hand, directing your attention to the large mirror in the corner of his bedroom so you can see exactly how wrecked you look under him.

“just focus on us, baby.” he husks in your ear, littering kisses along your neck and shoulder while he watches you fall apart. “see how pretty you look right now? you’re doing so good f’me.” he chuckles when you gasp his name, choking out half coherent sentences in between the garbled moans he wrenches from deep in your throat. “shh, princess. don’t want you to worry about a thing, ‘kay? jay’s gonna take care of ya.”

꒰ © nymphodiety 2024. DO NOT copy, modify, repost, translate, and/or enter my work into ai or other platforms! plagiarism will not be tolerated! please read all rules before interacting! ꒱

FAMILIARITY

absolute trinity x reader | sfw

CW! gn! reader, slight angst, character x reader romantically involved, multiverse shenanigans, drabbles, spoilers for absolute comics

Summary! Absolute Trinity meeting their s/o from the mainstream universe

BATMAN

"Bruce..."

His name was soft off your lips. The heat was hot on her skin as you looked up at the tank of a mine in front of you. The Batman from your home was less big, actually a lot.

"You know me...?" His voice felt hostile. Albeit it wasn't your Bruce it was him. He was big and still handsome. "You’re different from where I know you." You smiled at him.

He was still confused it seemed.

"You can take off your mask, Bruce." You asked hesitantly.

"How can I trust you?" His lips morphed into a scowl.

You faltered but you raised your head, “I’m not sure what’ll make you trust me, but I do know your parents would be very proud of you. I know that, and my version of you knows that. Even if he doubts it.”

Bruce stared at you blankly. His giant hand raised to bull down his cowl to reveal a very young man with still some wonder in those eyes. Short black hair and baggy eyes.

You stepped forward and cradling his face between you hands. Bruce didn’t know why but he allowed you himself to lean down for you.

“You’ve been working hard.” You smiled quite sadly, “Things never change do they.” You said it like it was a fact instead of question.

He titled his head with narrowing eyes. “The other you is rich, but also just as sad. He works so hard and is always blaming himself. Doing everything to make sure Gotham thrives. Things never change.”

He nodded. His blue eyes blanking as they stared at you. Only seeing love in those eyes of yours. No matter what he’s done, or perhaps violent, whether it was him or the other him you’d love him.

“He treats you good?”

“Always. He cares too much, so much it’ll kill him if he’d ever to lose me or anyone else he cares about.” You reassured.

Bruce found himself thinking that when he met his world’s you he’d protect you too. If this was you and your original then he’d protect you too.

Yeah, he couldn’t lose anyone else otherwise he’d lose it too.

WONDER WOMAN

“Woah you’re so tall and pretty!” You giggled when looking up at the woman with flowing dark hair, blue eyes, and red tattoos.

Diana, but not your Diana. Someone who belonged to the darkness, but good. She was intimidating but she was warm like the sun. Just like your Diana.

“Why thank you.” It was her, definitely. “You’re not from here. You came through with magic. May I ask how that happened?” She mused with a tiny laugh as you got a look at her prosthetic arm.

“A man named Savage made a device that sent people to different universes. It broke in the fight and I got sucked in.”

You played with the parts of your hero costume as you stared up at her tall stature. “My Diana, she tried to save me but couldn’t reach me.” You thought of your Wonder Women.

Just as beautiful and dressed in blue,yellow, red, and white. Flowing black hair and her blue eyes. She looked like a goddess and looked like light.

“My Diana? Another version of me, good [ ]?”

“Yes, my Diana is a lot less dressed in darkness and born in Paradise Island, a land full of women called Amazons.” You noted how she froze when she heard you speak.

You wavered over her expression. “You aren’t from Themyscira. From Hell maybe?”

“How did you figure it?” Diana’s brows were up to her forehead as you giggled. “You’re whole getup kinda screams hell. But you’re still my Diana. I can see that.”

Diana hadn’t met you in her reality. She hoped you existed here, and was just as kind as you.

A smile that made you shine like the sun. A sun that Diana only experienced when she arrived her on Earth.

“I see. Well I’m glad your perception is of me being evil.” She summed up. Her arms bulking as she crossed her arms. Your eyes glittered in excitement as she did so.

“Of course, because no matter how my Diana looks I’ll always love her.” The heat from your cheeks were loud. Diana couldn’t deny the flush of her cheeks.

Truly you were the birth of the Gods. A treasure she would protect; in every universe and any version of you.

SUPERMAN

Clark, or Kal-El floating in the air with blue eyes that were haunting. He didn’t give off that golden retriever aura like you were so used to.

He wasn’t all that huge, and this Superman was lean yet fit. Those eyes weren’t all that calming but haunting. Bright gold was shining off of his suit. Long hair and fair amount of stubble on his chin and jaw.

He was distant.

So unlike your Kal-El. In fact there was no Clark Kent. Simply the his Kyrptonian identity.

If was it was there then it was nonexistent.

Suddenly you felt a red cape surround you. Kal-El coming down and wrapping it around you. Your clothes were ripped. How you got here, but all you knew is that a machine by Gorilla Grodd broke and here you were.

That last memory being Clark being too late in saving you. Tears flowing from his eyes as you escaped into a blue light, and here you were.

“Kal-El…”. You shakily spoke.

“You know me?” He spoke. His voice still as he stared at you blankly. His mind twisting in gears. “Yes, but not mine. I can see that. I’m not from here.” You looked around to see the torn down buildings.

“You’re so much different from my Kal-El. My Superman is much more smiley, but I can see there’s goodness in you.” You looked hopeful into your eyes.

“This world is ugly. Some of these humans are ugly.”

His words made you still. Kal-El looked at you when he felt you falter. Shock in your eyes. That expression fatally fell to a sad smile.

“This world has been cruel to you.” Your hand drifted to his face. He didn’t know why but he allowed himself to melt into your touch. “But you still want to help. Humans are horrible but still fighting will make a difference.”

His expression seemed somewhere else. Like he was hearing someone else’s voice. Blue eyes flickering everywhere for anyone around you two. They came back to you and looking your eyes, locking eyeballs.

A hopeful look in them, “In your world, is it good?”

“Yes, and evil. But we do our best because even the tiniest effort can make the difference, Kal-El.” You gave him a smile. Cupping his face to which he melted.

A loud explosion was heard from elsewhere. Immediately you found yourself in his chest. His suit feeling different, and not made out of cloth like your Superman.

Kal-El made up his mind. Until you could return back to your universe he would protect you. Your world needed your goodness, and so did his other version.

After all it was true. Even if his suit said otherwise. Because maybe a world can be saved from themselves.

Just one step at a time.

HER PRINCESS

absolute wonder woman x reader | nsfw

CW! fem reader, top diana, magical genitalia, vaginal fingering, girls kissing, soft sex, use of rope, drabble, soft diana, implied future diana/steve trevor/reader

more self indulgent posts bc why not :)

The way she grabbed your thighs so easily and with her strength she pulled you to her. A smile on her lips.

You could see the flashing of red in her normally blue eyes. Diana, a beautiful princess who was the daughter of Circe and the Princess of Hell.

You wondered how you got so lucky.

“Pay attention.”

You listened immediately as her cock made from magic was pressed against you in an experimental way.

It her first time doing this.

The ropes around your wrists stung as you moved in response.

“It’s alright dear.” Her delicate fingers trailed up your opening and in they went. Her ghostly touch was heavenly as she pushed against your walls.

You squealed in response. Calling her name as she readied you. Opening and stretching you wide even with your scrambling legs.

“You’ll injure yourself. Be careful. The rope may hurt you.” She whispered with a smile. You were nodding as you panted. Her fingers still taking every thing you were worth.

You made a small noise as she pulled out her fingers. Those same fingers trailing up your thigh and pulling it out further. Her lips kissed your abdomen.

You easily took her into your arms, and her head resting on your chest. Feeling her naked chest on your stomach as she entered you slowly. Coming up to your face, and her hair tickling your nose.

“Breathe my love. Steve will be coming home soon, and he’d love have you coherent.” She laughed as you whimpered.

She caught your lips as the world dwelled into something beautiful and pleasurable.

Paradise.

MASTERLIST !

.🍓•.°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･.🍓•.°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

sfw —> ☁️ | nsfw —> 🍰

.🍓•.°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･.🍓•.°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Bungo Stray Dogs

that boy is a monster | ranpo x fem reader 🍰

eros of passion | ranpo x fem reader 🍰

little bambi eyes | chuuya x reader ☁️

fair skin and red rope | dazai x fem reader 🍰

double trouble | fukuzawa & ranpo & reader ☁️

caressing words | poe x fem reader 🍰

like I’m the only girl in the world | fukuzawa x reader 🍰

kiss of an angel | yosano x fem reader ☁️

Mortal Kombat

mistress of magic | mk x zatanna! reader ☁️

house of cards | mk x zatanna! reader ☁️

hard but with the softest edges |tomas vrbada x fem reader ☁️

nighttime thoughts | tomas vrbada x fem reader ☁️

embrace of a goddess | kung lao x fem reader ☁️

little moments | jonshi 🍰

loyal to the end | shang tsung x reader ☁️

what does the fox say? | kenshi takahashi x kitsune reader☁️

for evermore | liu kang x fem! reader ☁️

wondrous | kitana x faerie! reader ☁️

DC

moonlight drops | battinson x reader x selina 🍰

warmth of a home | jason todd x fem reader ☁️

gentle giant | corenswet! clark kent x fem reader 🍰

moon and stars | batlantern ☁️

her princess | absolute wonder woman x fem reader 🍰

familiarity | absolute trinity x reader ☁️

Marvel

oh jealousy | peter parker x fem reader ☁️

goodness incarnate | yandere avengers x male kryptonian reader ☁️

MOUTHWASHING

alone with me | anya x reader ☁️

treat you better | curly x reader☁️

GENTLE GIANT

corenswet! clark kent x reader | nsfw

CW! female reader, size difference, size kink, fluffy, soft dom clark, sub reader, strength kink (?), vaginal penetration, praise kink, fingering, cunnilingus, protected sex

he’s cute, this is self-indulgent, and I’m not sorry

You whined lowly as he lulled you against his chest. Hands of yours peaking at his pronounced chest with trembles.

A thick feeling beneath the cloth of his boxers. Big hands that were calloused rested on your hips. You shivered at the warm touch on your cold body.

He was always warm. Too warm.

“Shh it’s okay.” His hands rubbed your hips as you whimpered. Softly, you grinded and humped on his erection.

“Good job, darling.” Clark was smiling sweetly. His eyes full of love and swarmed with affection and pride at you.

With by his side he pulled down his boxers to reveal the gigantic organ that was now pulsing on your thigh.

Wasn’t the first time you took him but it still shook you just how giant he was. In fact, everything about him was big. A gentle giant of a man that loved you too the moon and back.

You gulped, and he lulled you back to focusing on him. Angled your hips against lower belly so that his erection could be placed against your rear end.

“Come here, darlin.” You whined lowly, almost a whimper as you made your way over his face. Gently his hands grasping you hips and lowered you down. His hot layered on your cunt.

“Clark…” You whined as his tongue curved up into you and on your clit. One hand moved to play with your clit, while one held your hips tight. Even with one hand he was able to keep you from moving.

“Mmh!” You covered your mouth while one hand grasped his wrist. Your hips moved little by little but even so you still didn’t move from his hot mouth. Clark ate you out passionately.

“Up we go!” A light laugh from Clark made you flush red as you were dropped onto the white sheets. His hands gripping your thighs and digging into once again. His arms wrapped over your hips and stomach, which allowed him to taste you and to finger you.

It left you in a moment of complete bliss. Head back against the pillow as you moaned loudly. His giant hands cupping your entire cunt easily. Even kissing your cunt before diving in his tongue deep.

“Clark! Too much-“

The Kryptonian pulled back with substance stringing down his lips. Licking them as he kissed you deeply. His hands going in different directions; one holding your hip and the other grabbing a condom.

As you two make out he covered his thick manhood in the rubber material.

Separating your were already panting. By patting your thigh you opened them and rested them on his shoulders. You were shaking lightly and he rested warm hands on your gently. Comfort from them.

He kissed your thighs he pumped his cock. The tip against his entrance and you were already whining.

“Alright here we go.”

You gripped his thick arms as he lowered himself into you. The stretch being tight and slow as he entered your slowly. Every vein and thick girth stretching you beyond belief.

Never would you be able to take him without prep. Either way you loved the way he would eat and finger you.

To distract you he kissed you once again. This time so much more hard. Bruising your lips as you attempted to whine from him finally bottoming out.

“You okay?” His hands cupped your face as you sniffed. Tiny tears in your eyes that he wiped away. You nodded your head and he shook his head.

“I need words baby.”

“I’m okay.”

He smiled at you. “Good job, baby.” He kissed your forehead before beginning his assault on your cervix. He always hit it and you couldn’t have been happier.

He started slow then it became quick and fast. Passionate and comforting as he praised you through out the whole ordeal. His forehead against yours and staring into your eyes deeply and intently.

His hips slamming down into your pelvis. Although it hurt a little you didn’t. He was doing his best to hold back, and even then you didn’t mind a bit of pain.

Especially if it was coming from him.

“I’m gonna-“.

You moaned as you pressed your head harder against his temple. His hand grabbed your thighs and into a mating press he started to thrust harder and harder.

“Do it darling. You can do it. I know you can my sweet girl.” His lips kissed your neck. Heavy breath on your neck as you came hard.

In sweet bliss you allowed him to ravage you. He kept going. His giant size swallowing you as he took your body to a more heavenly plane.

You gasped as he pulled out immediately when he finally felt his body coil. Off came the condom and he jerked himself off onto your lower belly.

“Clark…” You moaned out; asking.

He complied and kissed you.

In each other’s arms and with a kiss sealing your souls together. A tiny thing and a giant.

A human and an alien.

Sweetness filled your gut as he kissed you again. Praises into your ear as his hand drifted to your cunt once again. You moaned again pleased.

You were in for another ride, and you complied. Hiding yourself in his neck you moaned as he once again sent you to heaven.

Heaven with him.

A golden egg in a gentle giant’s tower.

Can you do Jason Todd x Fem Reader?

Imagine Jason inviting her to dinner at Wayne’s manor

WARMTH OF A HOME

jason todd x reader | sfw

CW! fem reader, good parent bruce supremacy, fluff all around, attempt at humor

Summary! Jason makes a promise to take you to Wayne’s manor for dinner to meet his family. He feels he may regret it (spoiler he does until he doesn’t)

thank you for the request! the drama and chaos is on the horizon 🙌

“I wanna meet her Little Winggg!”

“Fuck off-“

“Don’t be like that!”

Jason pushed Dick off of him. He hated that his face was flushed red as Dick boasted how they should meet his girlfriend, you.

“I would too like to meet this woman you’ve acquainted yourself with, Todd.” Damian asked, while looking like a gremlin.

“C’mon Jaylad!” Steph mused with teasing smile with bright teeth.

“Fuck off all of you!” Jason seethed. Looking redder than ever which caused a laugh out of everyone.

“I’d like to meet her if that’s okay?”

Jason stilled and turned to find Bruce with Alfred and hopeful smiles on their faces. “I’d love to meet the girl you’ve so dedicated yourself too. From what you’ve said it sounds like she’s a very sweet girl.”

Curse Bruce and his sweet talking ways.

So now he found himself dressing up quite nicely and you in a beautiful red dress. The same color as his mask.

“Are you sure you wanna do this?” He asked slowly with a grimace on his face. You simply blinked and smile. Your hand curving to cup his face to turn towards you.

“Yes. It’s your family and they love you. Despite whatever you’ve done or they’ve done you still love them and they love you. Made you into the man I love now and today.” You mused him. With a kiss of the lips Jason felt like he fell in love with you all over again.

Once again he asked himself how he got someone like you in his arms.

So there you have it. Jason stood with you hand in hand at Wayne Manor and in front of those humongous doors.

“You’re shaking.” You commented with a sly smile. “You’re nervous.”

“So are you-“ Jason mused back with a scowl. A teasing one as he came to look at you. Once again feeling as if he was undeserving of such a beauty like you.

“You’re scared too. I may have been a crime lord and may have died young but I can still see that you’re nervous too.”

“Damn you caught me!”

He chuckled seeing you act so dramatic. Your hand on your head and other on your chest. Eyes closed where he could see the glitter of your makeup.

His eyes gravitated to your lips which were a shade of red. “Always trying to tempt, dont’cha?” He pulled your waist. You giggled in response.

“Anytime I wear red it’s got you acting up. Behave yourself or you’re getting nothing tonight.”

“You little minx-“

The door opened after Jason rung the doorbell to reveal Alfred. “Good evening Master Jason, and you should be his girlfriend.” Alfred spoke carefully with a raised brow. Pride in his eyes when looking over at you and Jason’s arm around your waist.

“Yes I am. It’s great to meet you.” You bowed slightly with a smile. Jason could see that your smile was a bit tightened.

“It’s joy to have you here for dinner. Now come in before any of you catch a cold.” He opened the door further. Jason took your hand and let in you. The manor magnetic and beautiful; and stars in your eyes.

Perhaps Jason wanted to die right there because all of his siblings, whether or not they considered themselves Bruce’s children, were staring.

“What the fu-“

“Master Jason.”

You giggled watching the exchange between him and Alfred. His sibling’s eyes widening watching you laugh. The one to get up officially was Dick.

“Hello, I’m Dick. Our sweet Little Wing’s older brother.” He dramatically assessed to you. You smiled big and introduced yourself to him and everyone else.

“I wouldn’t use sweet…”

“Shut it Tim!”

“Yeah shut up Drake.”

“Hey! You promised you’d behave!” Dick attacked back with his pointer finger at Tim and then Damian.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Richard.” Damian crossed his arms looking away pouting. His ears red surely from embarrassment.

“Yeah what the demon said.” Tim grinned as he stepped up to you. “It’s great to meet the woman who will hopefully make him more tolerable.”

“I’ll shoot you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Tim and Jason!”

You blinked with a blank smile on your face. Joy evident on your face while the three seemed to argue. It wasn’t bad and simply baseless banter.

“So how did Jason score you?” Stephanie came strolling up with Duke, Cass, and Damian at her side.

“He saved me from being mugged.” You replied with the shrug of your shoulders.

“Wow. Of course he did.” Duke laughed. “Always so protective.”

“Yes he is. I’m assuming you’re Duke? Stephanie? Cass, and then Damian? Am I correct?”

“How did you know?” Stephanie asked with wide eyes. The rest of the siblings had shocked looks (w/ exception of the three og robins who were still arguing).

“Jason always talks about guys. Praising and bragging about you guys.” You laughed seeing their faces. “You didn’t know? He’s funny like that.”

“Hey! Are you making fun of me?!” Jason caught on to what was going on. His arms pulled away from you and in the air. His face flushing red which caused a bright laugh from you.

“Oooh! What did he say!”

“Yeah what did he say!?”

“Todd, what did you relay to her?”

A clap silenced you all. Belonging to Alfred who has an amused smile on his face. “Dinner is served. Master Bruce is awaiting.” He bowed and allowed you all to follow.

“I just know B will love you.” Stephanie giggled.

“Now why would you say that?!” Jason shot back. The blonde ignored him and continued to skip down the hallway in her nice purple dress.

“God damn…”

“I like your siblings. They’re funny.” You mused into his ears. His face got redder as he turned to look at you. “You need to lighten up, baby. They tease you because they love you.”

“I hate that you’re always remind me.”

“It’s my job.”

When entering the dining room there was the man, Bruce Wayne. Dressed nicely in a navy blue turtleneck and black slacks. He turned to greet each of his kids as they filed into their seats.

Alfred aside to serve dinner which all looked delicious.

“Old man.” Jason walked up to him with you. Your hands tightening on his hands as Bruce looked at you with a blank face.

You greeted yourself to Bruce with smile.

The man smiled and grabbed your hand, and with a smile; “I’ve heard very good things about you. I’m glad to meet you.”

Ever the charmer.

“B.” Jason glared and Bruce didn’t seem bothered by it. “Yes Jason?” He seemed challenge the younger with just a single glare.

“Nothing.” You giggled and patted his shoulder. His face got even redder when Bruce ruffled his hair.

“You picked a good one, son.”

“Screw-Screw you old man!”

Bruce and you laughed at his reaction. Even behind him he could hear his siblings laughing. Even Alfred seemed amused beyond all hell.

“Let have dinner shall we?” Bruce asked with a wave of his hand.

“Yes we shall!” You pulled Jason along. His face red as his mask especially when he could hear and see Stephanie gossiping into Cassandra’s ear and her quietly giggling.

Absolutely humiliating.

But despite that Jason found himself smiling. You were smiling as you found yourself in a conversation with his siblings about how you guys met.

You knew everything and anything about what was wrong with him, and every dysfunctional familial moment and yet you loved him.

You loved his family.

Jason felt content.

Bruce was proud of him. He made it clear with a toast.

“To Jason and [__]! A bountiful future for them!” Out of his seat Bruce raised his glass. His siblings, and even Alfred joined in with a clinking of glasses.

He felt you on his shoulder, and red lips against his ear once again, “I told you everything would be alright.”

He huffed a laugh, “Of course. You’re always right.”

MOONLIGHT DROPS

bruce wayne x reader x selina kyle | nsfw

CW! threesome, battinson, after events of Batman (2022), recieving oral (selina) , switch Bruce, top selina, bottom reader, gn! reader, riding, unprotected sex (pls be safe in real life)

"Move your hips, baby." Her voice was like smooth butter. You whined as you worked down on the organ below you.

The man below her, on her heat groan when you met his pelvis. "Selina! I don't think I-"

"You can." A teasing smile made way on her face. You flushed red seeing that. Her hands cupped your face as you cried from the stretch.

"C'mon move. Make Brucie feel good." She licked her lips as you followed her order. You rolled your hips on Bruce. Thighs burning and tearful eyes you cried out feeling his cock hitting all your special points.

Bruce moaned below.

Selina moaned in response. "Come here, baby." Her lips interlocked with yours. Silencing your cries of pleasure.

"Ah fuck- Bruce!" Selina laughed. Bruce was pressing his fingers hard into her thighs while eating her out. "What a good boy!" She ruffled his hair as he kept going.

Even more; she was getting off to you being subjected to his tiny thrusts up into you. You still tried to keep on the rolls of your hips but it hurt to do so.

"Make me cum, honey." She caressed Bruce's head gently, while also tugging on his hair to make him go harder. "Make our baby cum, okay?" She grinned seeing you utterly fucked out.

No longer were you moving your hips and were being subjected to his tiny thrusts.

Selina grinded her cunt against his tongue. Her moans loud and passionate. Her fingers moved and tugged and twisted at your nipples. You cried in response and holding onto her shoulders.

"Selinaaa nooo!"

She let out a cruel laugh and it turned into a loud moan as she came from Bruce’s expert tongue. “Oh good boy, Bruce.” She laughed while on your ass.

“Go on look up.”

Bruce looked up where you found the grease paint running down his face. His hands adjusted their hold on your hips and thrusted fast and hard. You yelped and moaned his name.

“Go harder. Faster.” Selina smirked as she came behind you and placed her hands on your waist which made you go faster. You flinched at her tongue.

Both she and Bruce were making a mess out of you. She kissed you and used her tongue. The vibrations of your moans were muffled in her mouth. Your ears could hear Bruce loudly moaning whimpering both your names.

Selina pulled at your chest with ease as she maked out with you with no shame. You flung your head way to cry from the overbearing pleasure. A feeling in your gut becoming worse the more Bruce’s thrusts became more erratic.

“What a good job you’re doing.” She giggled.

You ended up coming and Bruce kept on going. Overstimulated so much do to Selina’s tampering with your body. Her kitten lips at your chest making it so much worse. Clinging to her shoulders as Bruce handled his last few thrusts.

Coming inside you deeply and nice.

You and Bruce both moaning loudly. Your own body shivering from the amount of stimulation that was attacking your body. Selina didn’t let up on your assault at first but she soon did when you made a face.

“Good job kittens.” She giggled. You pulled against her chest, and Bruce scrambled to hug both you and her.

You felt plump feeling of Selina’s breasts against your neck and Bruce’s pecs in front of your face. You felt loved and cared for.

And trapped as you heard Selina and Bruce share a kiss. Selina taking the lead and making a sensitive Bruce weep when her hand wrapped around his cock.

You cried feeling Bruce’s hands drifted over your previously wreaked opening. His callous fingertips drenched in you and entering and you cried.

Once again Selina tweaked your chest and Bruce dug in to you like a buffet.

You were in for a long night and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

𝗕𝗿𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗮𝘆𝗻𝗲 𝗮𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰

𝗠𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗲𝘀𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗰 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝗼𝗼𝗻

”want a pretty femme under me while i squeeze her neck and rut into her with my biggest strap” THE HARLEY QUINN COMMENT. i’m gone. No because she would want the biggest strap too UHDHSHH elaborate pls id love to hear that for research 😁😁

🥀A/n: im going to platonically kiss u through the screen for putting this in my inbox i literally need to elaborate AURGH SHES SOOOO

🥀(based off this post)

🥀Cw: smut, fem!reader, wlw smut, strap, soorta size kink, bratty sub!Harley

🥀men and minors dni

now, Harley is very intelligent, but you can't tell me Harley wouldn't be soooo bratty- just for funsies! like she would try her best to piss you off, make you jealous, tease you and act all ditzy and airheaded when questioned about it all in the hopes of getting fucked stupid- and it works!!

she's sobbing as your silicone dick splits her in half, pawing at your tits and toying with your nipples while you fuck her until she's babbling- she's loud too, all whiny and pissed about how your going too slow, not fucking her hard enough, and the only way to shut her up is a firm hand around her throat- and oh does she love it

i just know Harley would drag one of your hands (that were placed so firmly on her hips just moments prior) up towards her neck, begging you with wide eyes to squeeze

"are you sure?" "toots, if you don't fuck me right now i swear-"

she loves being gagged, manhandled, slapped and fucked silly. her fave position is mating press, solely so she can simultaneously watch your tits jiggle and your cock slide in and out of her pretty pussy!

i also think she's partial to doggy style, Harley has a nice ass and she knows it. loves when your forcing her to arch her back, her ass rippling with every thrust as she drools into the sheets, your strap so deep inside her she's seeing stars

size is definitely a factor for Harley- not only does she want your biggest strap, she would want your weirdest and kinkiest strap too. she would buy one of those ridiculous monster cocks, tentacles, veins, ridges, the whole nine yards, and would beg you to fuck her with it

"o-oh! ffuck me harder, can y-you? please-" Harley babbles, holding up her legs with ease as you fuck her cunt with your strap. the sloppy thwap! of her pussy squelching around your silicone dick fills the room, only fueling your lust.

you tighten your grip on her neck, watching the nasty grin on her face widen as she struggles to breathe. you both know she's aching to be marked, covered, and painted in bruises from your rough treatment, and your happy to oblige. tears stream down her face from the addicting mixture of pain and pleasure as her mind grows foggy from her nearing orgasm.

your free hand trails down towards her clit, pressing down hard on her aching pearl. Harley's eyes roll back into her head as she squeals your name, makeup all smudged from crying. the tightening in her abdomen is almost unbearable, she's so so close-

your pace slows, and your grip on her neck loosens enough for her to take a few deep breaths. she lets out an indignant whine, trying to rock harder against your strap, but you keep to your slower pace. it's not enough to push her to the edge, but not too little for her orgasm to fade entirely.

"how many times have you cum tonight, honey?" your words are sickeningly sweet, but she knows that this is a test.

"ssssix..?" Harley slurs, looking up at your face and giving a dopey smile. "your so prettyy, 'need you s'bad, i wanna cum," she pleads, rolling her hips against yours.

you chuckle, leaning down to kiss her before speeding up your pace, rewarding her for her correct answer.

"good job, baby, you did so good f'me. you can cum again, now, how many times will that be?"

"s-seven- ffuck-"

"oh, good girl-" you speed up even more, circling her clit with precision. Harley's thighs clench as the cord in her stomach draws taught, and then snaps. her sobs and moans fill the room as her orgasm ripples throughout her entire body. she screams your name like a prayer, pussy drooling all over your strap as she squirts, covering your lower half in her slick.

as she begins to come down from her high, you coo softly, waiting for her to come back to the present. you know she gets lost in subspace more often than not, and needs a few minutes to recover. in that time, you slide out gently, admiring the slick and cum coating your strap.

"you okay, baby?" you whisper, and Harley nods.

"mhm. c'mere, i wanna cuddle," Harley pouts as you shake your head, removing your harness and standing up. "we should clean up first, you made a bit of a mess," you tease, and Harley whines, but obliges. you lean in to press a kiss to her forehead.

"i love you, y'know that?"

"yeah, yeah, toots, i love ya too. now let's get a bath running, i feel a little.. sticky- bleh".

sorry this is lowkey short n the ending is horrendous im fighting for my life trying to characterize her ♥️ i love you harley quinn you deserve the world but you'll have to accept my mid fanfics instead 😔

Can I request a yandere batfam x female reader

Summary: Female reader is friends with the whole batfam and is eating dinner with them. She tells them that she is thinking about moving,but the family will not allow it. Her phone rings so she steps out to talk,but when she gets back to them she is feeling sleepy. She doesn't know that they drugged her food,and brushes it off as tiredness.

Finally got to writing this fic @animegoddess15! Here it is: Home

Jason: People tell me I have a unique way of lighting up a room. You: It’s called arson and those people are called witnesses.

circle k (back to you) masterlist

pairing: tim drake x f!reader

In which you're just the graveyard shift employee at Circle K bombarded by vigilantes.

full summary: Working at a convenience store in Gotham City is a thankless and often dangerous job. Especially if you are working the graveyard shift.

You quite liked your brief stint at the Circle K in Keystone City, if only because the Flash could be found taking care of crime before they even happened. Plus, your store was the one he frequented the most for snacks and drinks to replenish his energy.

Even if your friends, Steph and Tim, don’t actually believe that he visited you and in fact said you two were friends. (No, seriously, he did!)

But a surprise visit from him with Red Robin in tow, a pointed insult to the Bats’ general hostility and unwelcoming nature, and suddenly, you have a revolving door of vigilantes at odd hours of the night.

Your most frequent visitor and the one that bothers you for a reason you can’t articulate since it also coincides with Tim Drake’s sudden avoidance of you?

Red Robin.

But it’s probably nothing, right?

contains: canon-typical violence, friends to lovers, mutual pining, angst, not actually unrequited love, eventual happy ending

ao3 | fic playlist | story tag

🏪 chapter index; completed!

chapter one... on my way to circle k

chapter two... it's getting late

chapter three... this doesn’t feel right

chapter four... walking slow (all alone)

chapter five... i am found on the ground

chapter six... hear the sound of your heart breaking

chapter seven... just get me through the night

chapter eight... where did i go wrong?

chapter nine... i want to make it right

chapter ten... there’s no way to hide it (i know what you’re fighting)

chapter eleven... i am always running back to you

chapter twelve... back to you

Would You Fall In Love With Me Again?

synopsis; no matter what he did, he would always be the kid you knew from crime alley. (UTRH jason todd x fem!reader) wc; 2.5k

cw; angst, happy ending, mention of dismemberment, mentions of violence, brief mentions of stabbing, brief and possibly incorrect descriptions of first aid, heavily based on would you fall in love with me again by jorge rivera-herrans from epic the musical

a/n; this man has been on my mind lately and the song was stuck in my head so this stems from that, enjoy.

don't use, copy or steal my works.

is it you? have my prayers been answered? 

is it really you standing there, or am i dreaming once more?

“jason?” the name leaves your lips in shock, you never thought you’d see him again, only in your dreams if you were lucky.

you look different, your eyes look tired.

your frame is lighter, your smile torn.

the man in front of you holds barely any resemblance to the child you once knew. his eyes, although tired, are darker and sharper, a hint of recognition in them. his stature is bigger, muscles filling out his frame and he’s grown taller. there’s a broken smile on his lips and it doesn’t reach his eyes.

is it really you, my love?

jason’s been back from the dead for almost six years now, and he’s been back in gotham for two of them. it’s been a year since he worked his way to the top of the crime syndicate as the red hood and enacted his revenge on bruce.

he would catch glimpses of you throughout that time, not necessarily stalking you, but just wanting to keep an eye out, make sure you were okay. this would be the first time he speaks to you since coming back.

i am not the man you fell in love with.

i am not the man you once adored.

“can i come in?” his voice is deep, it no longer carries that light whimsy tone it did when he was a child. the sound of it both scares and comforts you, he’s grown into a man. but at what cost?

you let him in and lead the way to the kitchen where you nervously begin to make a calming lavender tea.

“i’m dreaming again, aren’t i? there’s no way you’re actually in my kitchen right now.” you mutter while shaking your head as if to force the dream away.

“you’re not dreaming, i’m real.” his voice startles you again, you just stare at his hulking frame as he sits in a chair at your table eyeing the way you flit around nervously.

“if this is real.. if i’m not dreaming, what’s something only you would know?” you’re skeptical, jason realizes, and you have every right to be. the whole of gotham knew he was dead. bruce wayne’s second son, dead in an accident, little did anyone truly know.

i am not your kind and gentle husband.

and i am not the love you knew before.

he scoffs as you sit across from him, two mugs filled with tea sit on the table's surface, one in front of each of you. of course you’d be the one to ask him to prove it. you were never one to take things at face value, perks of growing up in crime alley.

“we had our first kiss behind the giant penny in the bat cave, the night you discovered bruce and i were batman and robin.” he watches your hand flex, fingers tapping an unknown rhythm on the table as you consider his words.

“how old were we?” you fire back, he seems so confident and you want to believe it’s him but you have to be sure.

“i was fifteen, you were a week shy of being fourteen. i died a year later.” you wince at the harsh way he speaks but nod nonetheless.

“how old are you now?” you know he’s aged since he’s bigger now, you just want to know if he’s still a year older than you.

“twenty-two.” his answer confirms that he is.

would you fall in love with me again,

if you knew all i’ve done?

the next hour passes by with him catching you up on everything. how he died, how he came back, what he’s been doing since coming back. you stopped drinking your tea once he mentioned severed heads.

he speaks casually, as if he’s not bothered by any of this, but you know him enough to know when he’s faking, at least you used to. you can detect the hurt and anger hidden behind his words and actions, you were pretty upset yourself when you found out bruce wasn’t going to do anything about the joker. you cried over jason for months.

the things i cannot change,

would you love me all the same?

silence fills the air around you after jason finishes his story, you moved from the table to the balcony halfway through, and now you sit on the couch. your legs are pulled to your chest as you lean against the armrest and peer at jason from lidded eyes. 

he sits facing the dark screen of the tv, legs manspread and an arm hooked over the back of the couch, the other rests at his side.

“you know, we never actually broke up.” you mentally facepalm as the words leave your mouth, why in the hell would you say something stupid like that? 

your cheeks flame up as jason bursts out laughing, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest that filters throughout his entire body. the couch shakes slightly from the vibrations of his body as he tosses his head back. the sound of his laughter and the sight of him makes you chuckle in turn. you laugh together for a bit until his next sentence has reality crashing in again.

“yeah cause i fucking died y/n.”

“well i’m sorry you’ll have to forgive my heartbroken depressed fifteen year old self for assuming since neither of us said the words ‘i’m breaking up with you’ that meant we were still together even if you were dead.” you grumble and use your hands to showcase air quotes.

“please tell me you haven’t spent the last six years thinking we’re still together.” he’s looking at you now, trying to gauge your reaction while waiting for your response.

“i grew out of that at sixteen, so only a year really. i’ve dated here and there, but most didn’t last long. there was one guy who lasted longer than the rest, but even that fizzled out pretty quick.” you explained with a shrug and watched as the tension left his shoulders, his body sinking into the cushions behind him.

“why didn’t they last?” you tilt your head back to look at your ceiling and inhale deeply at his question.

“i was just too in love with my dead boyfriend to move on with anybody else.”

i know that you’ve been waiting, waiting for love.

it’s been a couple months since the day jason showed up at your door, you talk everyday, whether he calls or texts you. he visits when he can, if he’s not patrolling as red hood. his relationship with bruce is still rocky, but slowly mending. you’ve started visiting the manor again, alfred appreciates your company and the atmosphere you bring with you while you’re there.

your dead boyfriend isn’t so dead anymore, and there’s something unspoken between the two of you now. jason has his own apartment, though you aren’t sure how since he’s still legally dead, bruce is apparently working on rectifying that. despite having his own place, he spends a lot of time at yours, and it only adds to your ever growing confusion.

unbeknownst to you, jason isn’t faring much better. he has trouble sleeping because of the nightmares, but lately when he does sleep, all he can think about is you. you’ve told him time and again that you don’t care what he’s done as a crime lord, that all you care about is the fact that he’s alive and back in your life. he’s paranoid that this is some awful trick his mind is playing on him.

he’s supposed to crash at your place tonight, hopefully he can control himself around you.

would you fall in love with me again,

if you knew all i’ve done?

the things i can’t undo,

i am not the man you knew.

you’re both laying across the couch, your body atop his, legs intertwined with his, and his arms around your waist while you both watch tv. some random horror movie playing that neither of you are really paying attention to, too caught up in your thoughts and each other.

that unspoken something hangs tensely in the air as your head rests on his chest, fingers tracing inconsequential shapes and patterns on his side. his eyes are closed and it heightens the feeling of your body against his.

“so… are we going to talk about it?” your voice breaks him out of his thoughts and he sighs heavily. he knows you’re talking about the unspoken thing that’s wrapped itself around you two like a thick blanket in the cold winter months, but he doesn’t think spring has arrived yet and he’s not quite ready to leave the comfort and safety of the blanket.

“i guess not.” you answer your own question after several minutes of nothing coming from him aside that first heavy sigh. his body tenses as you push yourself off him and stand away from the couch. he sits up once you turn off the tv, eyes finding yours in the dimly lit living room of your apartment.

“i’m sorry.” it’s the first thing he’s said since before the start of the movie and it’s your turn to sigh deeply while your shoulders sag as you stand in front of him.

“it’s fine jay, i’m going to bed.” it’s too early for you to be going to bed and you both know it, but your statement is said with such finality that he doesn’t try to argue. he only sighs as he watches you walk away to your bedroom, before throwing his head back with a heavy groan, knowing he’s sleeping on the couch alone tonight.

i know that you’ve been waiting, waiting,

after that night, jason distances himself. he’s hoping that some time apart will help him get his shit together and figure things out before he loses you completely. bruce, alfred, and dick all think he’s being an idiot, and honestly? he’s starting to think the same.

three months have passed since that night, and jason can count the number of times he’s seen you on both hands. the distance hasn’t done anything other than make him yearn for you more and wish to be by your side.

he doesn’t realize he’s left the comfort of the thick winter blanket until the night he crash lands on your balcony, bleeding out from a stab wound he got while fighting some goons with batman. he knocks only once before you’re pulling open the door and tugging him into your apartment.

“bruce called me when you disappeared after the fight, said you might’ve gotten hurt and to be expecting you.” you explain once you notice his head tilting in confusion. you help him onto the towel covered couch, a first aid kit and a bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table.

he takes off his helmet and the domino mask he had on underneath before letting you help him remove his jacket and pull up his shirt. the stab wound is on the left side of his stomach, no vital organs were hit but he will need stitches.

you work in silence, cleaning up the wound and the area around it with alcohol wipes from the first aid kit before stitching him up and covering them up with bandages. you give him the bottle of whiskey while cleaning up the mess on the coffee table and floor.

a flash of something catches his gaze, his eye zoning in on your throat, his breath hitching as he recognizes what it is. it’s the last thing he stole before bruce took him in when he was eleven, a necklace that he gave you for your tenth birthday. a silver chain holding a pendant the color of his eyes.

‘so that you’ll always have a piece of me close to your heart.’ is what he said when he gave it to you.

“i didn’t know you still had that.” his voice comes out hoarse from lack of use and your eyes flick to him in confusion before following his gaze to the pendant that rests at the bottom of your throat, just above where your heart would be.

“oh yeah, i still have a lot of the things you’ve given me but this one is my favorite.” you replied as you grabbed the pendant in one hand.

a symbol of our love everlasting.

jason knew what he had to do, but he just couldn’t find the words to use. he’s lying in your bed on his back, your head on his chest, body pressed against his injury free side as his arms are encircling you. 

he doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to being this close to you, his paranoid mind is giving him anxiety, making him think this is just another nightmare.

“how could you possibly care about me still? i’m a murderer, a monster.” the words leave his mouth before he has time to second guess them, your hand stops the tracing of shapes and instead rests palm down on his stomach.

“jay you’re not a monster, you’re a traumatized kid. the same one that saved me from getting bullied back in crime alley, the same kid who would make sure i was fed even if you were also starving. the same kid who brought me along with him after he got adopted by the richest man in the city.” you look up at him now, chin resting on his chest as he tilts his gaze down to meet yours.

i will fall in love with you over and over again,

i don’t care how, where, or when.

no matter how long it’s been, you’re mine,

don’t tell me you’re not the same person.

“no matter what you do, you’re still that same kid i knew from crime alley. my dead boyfriend who i’m just too in love with.”

i’ve been waiting, waiting,

waiting, waiting,

waiting, waiting,

waiting, oh,

for you.

“well i’m not dead anymore.” he chuckles and you roll your eyes.

“yeah but according to you, you’re not my boyfriend anymore either.” you don’t even get the chance to laugh before he’s cupping your chin and pulling you up for a passionate long overdue kiss.

lips connecting with yours roughly as his hand slides to your throat, tongue pushing its way into your mouth. gasping, your body presses against him, hand clutching his side. 

he pulls away wincing and you quickly apologize, having forgotten his stab wound. but he merely shakes his head and presses another kiss to your lips.

“you’re still jason todd to me, the kid from crime alley.” you smile resting your head on his chest again.

“i know.” he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“and you wanna know something else?” you start tracing random shapes and patterns again.

“what?” he asks, relaxing his body into yours while sighing happily.

“i love you.”

YN: DICK!

Dick Grayson: What do you want?!

YN: I JUST TOLD YOU!

i am, and always have been, a slut for those “he calls you annoying and you change and he doesn’t like it” type of things

is it unresolved issues on my end? probably yeah

bUT i hate that in them half the time the character in question gives one apology, and suddenly everything is a-okay

long story short I wanna write my own but I guess semi more realistically???

just putting it out there :)

Can I request headcanon of Jason Todd/Red Hood (Under the Red Hood movie) being with fem s/o who can magically heal just about anything no matter how severe the wounds are and how deadly the diseases, but she can't heal herself; she is serene, gentle and soft spoken please?

I think Jason Todd deserves the world, so yes, I shall! Thank you for the request!

You Playing Doctor Now? Jason Todd x Meta!Reader

The door slamming open and shut had become a sound you were used to. Months ago it would have startled you, made you jump nearly out of your skin, especially given the area you found yourself living in. Now, however, the sound was almost comforting to you.

The slam of the door meant your boyfriend was home, alive, but from the sluggish sound of his footsteps, not uninjured. You paused what you were doing, carefully chopping vegetables for the stew you had been planning on making.

You set the knife down, washing your hands rather quickly, before making your way into the living room. Sure enough, Jason was sat on the couch, having taken his helmet off himself, sweaty and breathing heavily, his eyes shut.

His hair was nearly plastered to his forehead, and he didn't open his eyes to your entrance, despite hearing your footsteps grow closer. You took stock of his appearance, cuts and fresh bruises lined his cheeks, and you were sure there were other injuries beneath his armor if the thin trail of blood from your doorway was any indicator.

"You should see the other guy," Was the first sentence he offered you, lips curled in an attempt of a smirk, but his labored breathing made it appear more of a grimace.

"I'd rather not waste my time looking at dead bodies," Despite your worry, you joked back, voice soft as you knelt down in front of him.

He cracked open his eyes, sighing as he took in your sight. Your eyebrows were furrowed with worry, eyes raking over his appearance, no doubt calculating just how injured he was. He shifted, leaning towards you, prying a glove off before caressing your cheek, thumb softly brushing the cheek bone.

"I'm fine."

You rolled your eyes, rather used to hearing that line fall from his lips, "You and I both know that's a lie," You stood up, hands on your hips, "Take the armor off."

He raised an eyebrow, trying to deflect your concern, "Take me to dinner first."

You barely rose to the bait, "Dinner will be ready sooner if you let me treat your injuries without a fight."

The two of you stared at each other for a silent moment, before he relented. He had never thought he'd meet someone whose stubbornness outweighed his, and he never would have thought that someone as sweet as you could be harder-headed than him.

"Alright, alright," He hated that he was struggling to remove his own armor, muscles sore and screaming at him.

You shook your head as he dropped his clothes onto the ground, stepping forward, tender hands pressing gently to his skin. You started on his face first, palms cupping his jaw, and he relaxed into your hold, the warmth of your hands fighting the nippy cold from outside that still lingered in his bones.

You made a soft tsk, and he felt the odd sensation of the cuts on his cheek closing themselves up, not having to open his eyes to know that your gaze was unwavering, eyes glowing inhumanly, the color a brighter hue of the normal ones he fell in love with.

"The scars will fade quickly," You murmured, voice low as you moved your hands from his face, gently pressing against his shoulders, biceps, forearms, taking assessment of the damage.

He opened his eyes to watch you, a smile forming on his face as you continued muttering to yourself, cursing him for trying to hide his injuries, easily reversing the damage that had occurred to him hours before.

"Jason Todd," You scolded, pressing your hands against his ribs, eyes narrowing into a glare, "You were going to hide broken ribs from me?"

He chuckled sheepishly, "I've handled worse."

"Doesn't mean you have to now," He felt energy buzz under his skin, sucking in a quick breath as he felt his ribs fuse back together, "I'll do whatever I can to make sure of that."

He knew that, he knows that. But more often than not he feels as if he's taking advantage of you, of your abilities. He didn't know if your powers made you selfless, or if your selflessness manifested your powers. But he does know that you would run yourself ragged if it meant you could help every injured or ill-ridden person you came across.

He didn't want to admit it to anyone, let alone the rest of the stupid bird family of his, but he did go out of his way now to avoid massive injuries. If he came back with just a few scratches or bruises, he could talk you out of healing him, telling you paper cuts hurt worse than the injuries he had now.

He had less luck when he came home with cracked bones or bullet holes. He knew, and you knew, he would heal faster than normal thanks to the Lazarus Pit, but your powers worked almost instantly. You'd rather heal him immediately, rather than let him set for a few hours, body healing itself.

In a matter of five minutes, all his injuries were gone, leaving nothing but dried blood and faint scaring in their places. You sat back on your heels, eyes their normal shade, smiling up at him.

"There you are," You stood, leaning to place a soft, quick kiss to his lips, pulling back to run a hand through his hair, "Good as new."

"You enjoy playin' doctor, huh?"

The blush on your cheeks had him grinning like mad, and you rolled your eyes to avoid eye contact. He caught your hand in his, resting your knuckles against his lips, "Thanks doll."

You went to move, more than likely heading back to finish tonight's meal, but a flash of white caught his eye, and he grabbed your hand, turning it palm up. You stood, eyebrow raised in confusion as he ran his fingers across your skin gently, feeling the rough bandage across your palm.

"What happened?"

Your lips formed a quick 'o', grinning almost sheepishly, "I nicked myself cutting the carrots a bit earlier," You let him fiddle with your hand, your fingers for a moment longer, shrugging, "It's fine, I dressed it."

"I wish you could heal yourself."

He had found himself saying that so many times, wishing you could use your abilities selfishly. You healed him, no questions asked. You used to babysit some of the kids in the area, kissing away scraps and bruises under the guise that kisses healed everything when they looked at you in wonder. You held injured birds, cats, and dogs in the alleyways, taking care of their illnesses brought by hunger, correcting broken wings and crooked paws like it was as simple as breathing.

But whenever you were injured, struck down by a fever, found yourself in a situation where you needed help, you were helpless to do anything for yourself.

Your powers, Jason thought, were a blessing and a curse.

You shrugged, "Even if I could, wasting my abilities on a little cut? I'm fine."

His gaze met yours, and you understood the look he was giving you. You were repeating his own sentiments to him now, but you stood by it. Even if you could heal yourself, there were others who needed your energy and powers more than you did. Why would you have been born with this power if not to help others?

That's the notion you were raised on, and while Jason wanted you to put yourself first, protect yourself over strangers in the streets, he also knew that mindset was why the two of you met.

No one else would have rushed to the side of a downed Red Hood in the streets, covered in a mixture of his blood and the blood of those he killed. Everyone else would have run off or ignored him, but you rushed to his side, not asking questions, not trying to remove his hood or armor, hands placed where ever you could put them, and before he knew it, the dizziness brought on by blood loss was gone.

The rest was history.

He stood up, "Let me redress it at least," He squeezed your hand gently, "A lifetime of healing and you don't even know how to properly apply a band-aid."

You pouted but laughed along as he dragged you behind him to the bathroom, the first aid kit he forced you to buy still laying out on the counter.

You chattered away, talking about how your day had been, the kittens you saw coming back from the store earlier, how you got rid of their flea-ridden infections, and how you went back a few hours later and set up a box with some blankets in it for them. You mentioned keeping an eye on them, and bringing them home if no one claimed them in the next few days. He listened intently, cleaning the cut and dabbing some neosporin on it, wishing he could do more for your injuries, regardless of how small there were.

He'd do whatever he was able to though, wrapping any cuts you got, icing any bruises that appeared, he'd carry you everywhere if you required him to. He'd do that for as long as you'd let him.

Sorry, I had no idea how to end it. I hope you liked it!

Big Spoon or Little Spoon?

Little spoon. Jason Todd little spoons and it's partly because he's touch starved (can you all tell I adopted this headcanon as canon?), but also because no matter where the bed in a room is located, he needs to be able to be in front of you, and face the door.

You need to be behind him, and he needs his arms free and able to grab his guns, or any weapon really, if anyone were dumb enough to break into the room, trying to catch him by surprise.

This becomes more difficult if there are windows involved, but he solves that by ensuring whatever safe house or apartment you stay at doesn't have a bedroom window. Dreary? Maybe. But it helps ease his paranoia if he only has to worry about one entrance way.

That's the only thing he'll admit to.

But he always relaxes in a loving embrace, the warmth of another person behind him, soft and slow breaths tickling the back of his neck, a relaxed and steady heartbeat against his back. The hold reminds him he's not alone, that he's loved and desired.

If you can, would you mind doing some fluff headcanons, about being domestic with Jason Todd? Perhaps timeline of him understanding he loves you, how he came to terms with that. The relationship growing, you two moving in together, if or how it leads up to marriage etc…

Jason Todd x Reader Fluff Headcanons

First Date

Jason hadn't been on many dates or any at all, so safe to say he was nervous when you two went on your first date. I'm talking - was up late looking up places to go, what to talk about, what types of dates were the best for first dates, did he bring you flowers? Did he bring you chocolates? Did he walk you to your door? Or would that be creepy?

He was not going to go to his family the others for advice. Dick would pull his weird, overly emotional, big brother gimmick and be hanging on Jason, wailing about how his little wing was all grown up. Despite being shorter and smaller than Jason. Tim would hold it over his head like blackmail till the day Jason died - again. Damien would find the whole thing ridiculous and give him weird, textbook, medical advice. And Bruce Wayne was notorious for not knowing how to properly show emotions, so that was out.

It left Alfred, who told him, and I quote, "Just be yourself, Master Jason." Safe to say Jason felt like he was back to square one.

He managed to settle on a day full of activities: he took you to lunch at one of his favorite little diners. He had known the owner since he was a little street rat, the woman used to collect all their leftover food and hand it out to those that would crowd around their back door. It was never a lot, but it was more kindness than any kid on Crime Alley was ever shown. No one messed with them, unless they wanted an army of angry, hungry street rats going after them.

The food was also really good. So there was that.

You ate lunch, and he found talking to you was easy. You laughed at his stupid jokes and he thought you were the most clever person he'd ever met. The banter flew naturally, and he found himself relaxing more around you than he had anyone in the past few years.

After lunch, whatever plan he had had gone out the window, and you two merely walked around different stores, stopping for ice cream, people-watching at the park, and talking as if you two had been close for far longer than you had. The date itself lasted for almost seven hours, and neither of you grew tired of the other.

Meeting His Family

Everyone was well aware of the number of people who wanted to grow close to any of Bruce Wayne's kids or wards to try and grow close to the elusive rich man. For some of them, it made dating hard.

You, however, did not care in the slightest who Jason's family was.

Initially, you had assumed he didn't talk to his family, considering how he avoided topics and discussions of them. You respected that, not wanting to pry. You had your own family issues that were a sore subject.

So the day he came to you asking if you'd like to have dinner at his father's house, you were a bit shocked to find yourself on the back of Jason's motorcycle, pulling up to the Wayne Manor.

After the initial shock wore off, and you passively scolding your boyfriend for being so vague about how to dress, you two entered.

You met Alfred first, and you were easily charmed by the kind yet no-nonsense man. He found you to be quite charming as well, someone kind and, from what he's seen, able to help Jason see the better days ahead, the better side of himself, and allow him grace at seeing the boyish smile Alfred worried he'd never see on the boy again.

Safe to say you had Alfred' approval, which truly, was the most important person to have on your side.

Surprisingly, you met Bruce next. He was, safe to say, awkward. He had learned of his son's partner literally days prior and was so worried about not only ensuring you weren't someone who was going to hurt Jason in any way but also wanting to ensure you were someone strong enough to handle Jason's... extracurricular activities even if you didn't know of them yet.

Jason was worried upon meeting Bruce freaking Wayne you'd panic, or not sure how to act as many people did upon meeting his father. You kept your cool though, and Jason could tell your minor disdain stemmed from how he had spoken of the man. You were standing between the pair, only speaking highly of Jason, how he was an amazing man despite all the... flaws in his past. Even Bruce knew that was a shot at him. Watching you so readily defend him against someone as influential as Bruce had Jason follow you with star eyes for the rest of the night.

Bruce realized, after a quick background search, he had nothing to worry about.

Meeting his brothers went off exactly how you'd think. Dick cried about his baby brother growing up and becoming a man, Tim was shocked someone would date Jason, let alone stay with him for longer than a week, "I mean, you've seen how he cleans up after himself!" Damien was more indifferent towards you, you were his brother's girlfriend, and he felt as if his opinions on you shouldn't matter. Though after you and Titus interacted so kindly he felt warmer to you than he had before, but that wasn't because he liked you.

Moving In Together

This happened gradually. You had clothes over at his place for whenever you spent the night, he bought you the shampoo, conditioner, and body wash you enjoyed, you had your own towel and washcloth set in his bathroom, a toothbrush in the holder.

Eventually, though, you talked about it because it was becoming pointless to pay rent for a place you barely went to.

That conversation was sparked when, one cold night, you found a stash of your favorite teas, honey, sugars, and cream in his kitchen, along with colorful mugs you knew weren't his. The small things he did to ensure you felt comfortable there made you know you were ready.

Moving the rest of your stuff over didn't take long - considering it felt like half of your stuff was already there. Moving in together did bring a few bumps and bruises, it was harder to hide that he went out for long periods of time and often came back with bruises and cuts.

You did get on him a lot about taking care of his dishes and clothes, but you two talked and came up with systems of ensuring the apartment stayed cozy and mostly clean.

That's all I have for it. I feel like living with him would be so nice.

Finding Out He's Red Hood

Okay, like I said, it's harder to hide how often he goes out and how often he has bruises and cuts and stitches.

You, also, are not an idiot.

The placement of where your shared apartment is, Jason's disappearances lining up with times the Red Hood is spotted out and about, the injuries he's sustained.

He was either the Red Hood or happened to be a goon fighting the Red Hood every night who never learned his lesson.

So... Red Hood.

You have to bring it up, cause he still thinks you're blissfully ignorant. He's the shocked Pikachu meme when you tell him. Can't even come up with a valid reason to deny it. So he doesn't.

You two talk, and he confirms what you already know, and then the panic sets in. You know his identity, one of the most important secrets he has as the Red Hood. Did you figure out about the others? Would you leave him? Would you threaten to spill?

You just shrugged, nodding at him with an, "Okay."

You had known for a while, you admitted and never knew if you should bring it up or not. Then you admitted how you'd been trying to study up on first aid, wanting to be able to help him anytime he got him. You'd bought items online to practice stitching wounds and had worked on making a stash of medical supplies in the bathroom, bandages, absorbent pads, antiseptic wipes, gauzes, etc.

You couldn't be his "guy in the chair", and you didn't see yourself joining him in the vigilante lifestyle (he also wouldn't have wanted you to do that), but you wanted to be there for him and support him however you could.

When He First Says I Love You

Like I mentioned before, he knew he loved you for a while, but never said anything. You had said it first, truly, and were respectful that he hadn't responded immediately. You knew of his past, his secret identity, his family, etc., so you knew that coming right out with an "I Love You" wasn't on his agenda.

But the day he did say it, that's exactly what he did. Came right out with it.

It was a cool day, rainy and cloudy. He had made you both hot chocolate, the kind Alfred taught him how to make, and you were both cozied up in his living room, watching some live-action adaptation of one of his favorite books.

You made a comment, voicing one of his thoughts, about how they left out some of the best comments from the book and it made the whole movie feel far quicker paced than it should have been.

You hadn't read the book, but he had ranted to you about it, telling you about his annotations and thoughts about the cast and directors and producers they had hired for the movie.

Your comment was proof enough you had not only listened to him rant and rave about the book, but remember what he had said.

As you were glaring at the TV with the credits rolling, he was staring at you.

And just said it.

"I love you."

A/N: Sorry if this didn't include everything you wanted, I ran out of free time and ideas! But I enjoyed what I did get to.

Request Rules

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Bruce Wayne

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Jason Todd

SFW Fluff Alphabet

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Tim Drake

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Batfamily

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Jason Todd SFW Alphabet

From this template

A : Affectionate How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?

He shows affection in small ways that just never end, not in an annoying way. His love languages are definitely physical affection (he's touch-starved), quality time (he spent so much of his childhood alone, physically or not), and words of affirmation. I talk about the physical stuff further down, but he also loves just being in the same room as you. If you're in college and studying or doing homework he's there with you, silent, just enjoying your presence, stepping in whenever you need a break (hypocrite). He praises you for the smallest thing, you got a C+ on a paper and feel down? That professor's an idiot, Lois Lane would publish a paper like that. You look beautiful in that outfit, doesn't matter how often he's seen you in it, you always look amazing.

B : Best Friend What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?

I can see the friendship starting slowly, you two meet probably somewhere like a bookstore or coffee shop. You're looking at a book he likes and he comments, and the two of you start talking. You don't exchange info, just happen to meet up there a few times before you start talking outside of the bookshop. It's definitely a warm, and open friendship. You can banter back and forth, pick up conversations like two weeks hadn't passed, etc.

C : Cuddles Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?

Jason in two words: touch starved. He tries to be nonchalant about it, but he has to be touching you in some way. Arm around your shoulders, leaning against your side, holding your hand, you holding his arm, etc. His two favorites are when you lay on his chest, you're like a living, beautiful weighted blanket, and when you let him lay on your chest, listening to your heart beat, feeling your breath under his chest, your fingers carding through his hair. He's like an overgrown cat.

D : Domestic Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?

He does not actively realize he wants to settle down, but he cannot see his future without you. To him it doesn't matter if you have kids, don't have kids, get married, don't get married, stay in Gotham, move, etc. He just wants you next to him. As for cooking-- I cannot see him being an excellent cook. He either forgets to eat, or makes instant ramen for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He, however, doesn't want you to feel like you have to do everything, so he learns how to cook basic meals for the two of you, and luckily, he's decent at cleaning. The mess reminds him too much of his house growing up, and he doesn't want to feel that around you.

E : Ending If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?

In a serious relationship I can only see Jason breaking up with their partner due to him fearing for their safety. He'd also do it fast, like breakup with you, give you a half-assed reason, and then flee. He wouldn't answer your texts or calls, but he'd always make sure you were safe. He just feels you're safer without him.

F : Fiancé How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?

He doesn't actively plan on getting married, but he wants you in his life forever. He goes by your flow once you're together for a longer period of time. You wanna get married? He's down on one knee. Want a big wedding? He's guilting Bruce into paying for everything. Want a small wedding? Still making Bruce pay. Courthouse? Already driving you two there. How quick would depend on you, two years in and you want a ring? He's taking Babs out to help him look. Seven years and you mention the courthouse? Well you're both free Wednesday, wanna go then?

G : Gentle How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?

Jason Todd is a huge teddy bear. He knows he's big, he's strong, he's intimidating, and most of the time he doesn't mind that. With you though? Doesn't matter how strong you are, he's gonna treat you like glass. Not because he doesn't think you can handle yourself, he just never wants to hurt you in any way, shape, or form. He never raises his voice at you, never raises a hand, never even thinks of doing either of those.

H : Hugs Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?

Like I said, touch-starved. If he could have you in his arms all the time he would. Any time you're fine with it-- cause if you needed space or no touch he'd oblige, and not make a fuss about it cause hey he respects your boundaries-- he's got you in his arms. His hugs make you feel like nothing can hurt you, you're protected in his arms, leaning against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

I : I Love You How fast do they say the L-word?

I can definitely see him taking a bit to say it, not because he doesn't love you, but because saying it feels really real to him. However, when he comes to fully realize, know, and accept that he loves you, he says it without realizing it and doesn't blink while you're reeling. After that, he ends every conversation with an "I love you", and sometimes randomly gives you a quick kiss with a "love you".

J : Jealousy How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?

It's strange for him because, on the one hand, he trusts you. Like, really, really trusts you. He'd hand you his guns if you so much as asked, not needing anything else. However, he does get jealous. Specifically cause he loves your attention, and when it's on someone else for too long and he feels ignored, the man deflates. His brothers think it's hilarious to steal your attention from him and watch him get all pouty. The big bad Red Hood is pouting cause his partner is talking to his brothers and not him.

K : Kisses What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?

Kissing Jason makes you feel like you're wrapped up in a warm blanket, protected, loved, and like you're the most important person to walk on the earth. Regardless of how quick and small they are, or how hot and heavy they can become. He loves to kiss you on the lips, the cheek, and the forehead. He feels that's the best way to convey how much he loves you. As for him, he loves it when you press gentle kisses on his hands, his palms, or his knuckles. It makes him feel soft, it makes him feel safe. He won't say that, though, so you better pick up on his little smile every time you do.

L : Little Ones How are they around children?

He's the kind of guy who says they don't like kids, that they're snot-nosed and annoying. Yet he's so soft with them. He kneels down to their level to talk to them, never talks to them like they're dumb or babies, always makes sure they are able to show or say their boundaries and he respects them. He volunteered once with you at a library with the poorer kids and read to them, going out of his way to make funny voices, letting them climb all over his lap, tug his hair, etc.

M : Morning How are mornings spent with them?

He's not a morning person. Odds are you're up before him and he tries holding you in bed, pleading that he just needs five more minutes with you. You can bribe him out of bed with breakfast and coffee, however.

N : Night How are nights spent with them?

More of a night owl, and you two often stay up late, talking in hushed whispers about anything and everything. He likes it when he makes you laugh when you're tired and giggly and find him hilarious. Odds are he's not a morning person cause you two stay up late.

O : Open When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?

He wouldn't open up quickly. That's just not really the Batfamily tradition. You'd be dating for a while, and one night he'd probably have a rough night. Aggressive thugs out and about, hurt kids, bad memories. You'd just hold him, you wouldn't pry or ask questions, just let him relax into you. And he'd spill. About his mom. About Willis. About meeting Bruce. About his relationship with his brothers. Dying. Coming back. His feelings. Everything.

P : Patience How easily angered are they?

He used to have a horrible temper, and everyone knew. With you? He wanted to change that. You were never the reason he was mad: upset? Sometimes, sure. But he loves you, so he worked on himself. He worked on communication, talking to you when you did something or said something. He learned healthier ways to manage his anger, as to never take it out on you.

Q : Quizzes How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?

Jason remembers when his mom started forgetting small things about him, forgetting holidays and birthdays, and as a kid he never said anything, but it hurt. It hurt a lot when she forgot how old he was because she missed his past few birthdays. So he makes sure he remembers everything about you. You once mentioned this café opening you saw online? He takes you there on opening day-- five months later. You changed from gold to silver or silver to gold? He picks up on it and changes the jewelry he buys you accordingly.

R : Remember What is their favorite moment in your relationship?

He's got two. One, when you learned about him being Red Hood. He was worried about your response, knowing it was a dangerous life. But you just told him to promise you he'd always come back to you, and you learned how to patch up different kinds of wounds without telling him to help him however you could. Just you worrying about his safety made his heart flutter. Two, when you learned who his father was. He was used to people wanting to be close to him and his siblings because of Bruce-- riches and influence. You didn't care, at all. "Oh. Your dad's Bruce Wayne? Cool. Do you want lo-mien or ramen for dinner?"

S : Security How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?

Super protective. I think we can all agree on that. He's seen the worst of the worst people, seeing people hurt and injured. He never wants you to be in those positions. You'd move in with him eventually, his apartment was probably one of the safest places in Gotham. He tracked you, with your consent of course, and you understood. You tracked his phone too, cause he knows you worry as well. As for you protecting him, he likes it when you hold him after nightmares or rough nights, telling him everything's going to be okay, and just being there for him.

T : Try How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?

A lot. But he does his best not to show it. Oh, you have a dream date you have a Pinterest board for? Well, he's searching high and low on how to make that date happen. You've always wanted to go to Paris? London? Brazil? Guess where you're going for your two year anniversary. He tucks you in whenever you nap or sleep, bookmarks your pages for you so you never lose your page, and makes sure he always has your favorite drinks in the fridge.

U : Ugly What would be some bad habits of theirs?

Self-sacrificing and shutting down. He has a hard time letting people help him, feeling like if he lets people help then he's not strong enough to take care of you. It upsets you whenever he does that, but in a way you get it. It's something you two work on.

V : Vanity How concerned are they with their looks?

His concern is mostly whenever you get worried about him. The bags under his eyes, the half-treated cuts and bruises. He takes better care of himself after dating you because whenever you worry about him like that it hurts his heart too. He gets a better shower schedule, sleeps better, eats more than take out and protein.

W : Whole Would they feel incomplete without you?

I think towards the beginning of your relationship he would do his best to remain independent. He knew the pain of being alone, being left, being forgotten, and he did his best to avoid that, but he also wouldn't want to wish that upon you if anything happened. However, as your relationship grows and continues you truly become the light of his life, and his day isn't complete if he doesn't talk to you at least once.

X : Xtra A random headcanon for them.

He talks in his sleep. Sometimes, on bad nights, he's crying, nightmares from his memories, and fears of losing you or seeing his family die in front of him because, despite it all, he still cares about them. On good days he mutters the most random crap, and you have videos of him arguing with some made up person from his dreams over food or clothes.

Y : Yuck What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?

He wouldn't like conceited people, confident sure, but cocky? No. He dealt with Bruce's rich "friends" too much to deal with that. He wouldn't want someone to coddle him, baby him, he wants to be taken care of sure, but not at the expense of a partner treating him like he's incapable of doing anything.

Z : Zzz What is a sleep habit of theirs?

If he could stay up all night talking to you, looking at you, he would. You, however, enjoy sleeping. You feel like you have to fight him to be in bed before three AM, and deal with the fact that he and Tim are far closer in how much coffee they drink than Jason would ever admit.

Send in any character request with a letter, multiple letters, or the whole thing!

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Scarlet's 12 Prompts for Christmas

⋆˚࿔ Welcome to the Café! 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

hello,my name's emile! how may i take your order? please pick your fandom and take a look at the menu below and tell me what you'd like!

(don't see something you like? ask anyways and i'll do it within reason or add it to the menu in the future :3)

────── .✦

⋆˚࿔ Who/What do I write for? 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

- call of duty

- elden ring

- the boys

- dc

- marvel

- certain anime/manga (just ask!)

-tf2

-rdr2

-bg3

-arcane

-dbh

-hannibal

────── .✦

⋆˚࿔ Menu: 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

- cappuccino: "Please let me help you."

- latte: "Not in this lifetime."

- frappuccino: "Can we skip the fight this time, please?"

- mocha: "Sorry for waking you up, go back to sleep."

- americano: (other chara talking to chosen character) "You're in love with her/him/them, aren't you?"

- doppio: "It's 3 in the morning, what're you doing here?"

- macchiato: "You said you liked it, so I got it for you."

- ristretto: "Everyone already thinks we're dating."

- affogato: "You're dangerous."

- oolong tea: "I've wanted to ask you for a while now, but I didn't know how."

- chai: "Wanna go get a drink?"

- chamomile tea: "No, I'm not jealous"

⋆˚࿔With a side of.......

- cheesecake: enemies to lovers

- chocolate cake: forced proximity

- apple pie: friends to lovers

- chocolate chip cookie: fluff

-shortbread cookie: angst

- not in stock: (senders request for a specific trope)

- on the house: writers choice!

────── .✦

⋆˚࿔ 18+ Menu: 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ (minors please DNI)

- espresso martini: "I've met strays who are more obedient than you."

- irish coffee: "Fuck, that's a good girl."

- mudslide: "You gonna beg f'me?"

-prairie buzz: "Use your teeth."

- tequila espresso: "I didn't think you'd be so responsive."

- kirsch au café: "God- Do that again."

- italian espresso: "Try to stay quiet, understand?"

⋆˚࿔With a side of.......

- black forest gateau: cockwarming

-chocolate macaron: rough sex

- vanilla macaron: gentle sex

- matcha gateau: age gap

- tiramisu: oral sex (specify which side)

- chocolate cherry cake: sugar daddy

-lemon cheesecake: body worship (specify which side)

Alter ego strikes again

𝘉𝘰𝘺'𝘴 𝘢 𝘓𝘪𝘢𝘳

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader

「 ✦ A/N ✦ 」 I don't know what has creeped into my brain, but I've started rewatching the show and I literally wrote this in a day.

✬ summary ✬ Finally taking the plunge and ruining your friendship with Clark, you go on your first date but the next day he's acting like a whole new man. Not a good one. You don't know if your relationship can recover from his cruel behavior, but he's not going to give up so easily.

For the nth time, you stand before your mirror and find yourself dissatisfied. No outfit is right, each one is too little, too much, too slutty, not slutty enough. You haven’t even started on shoes yet, you would be in the grave before you were ready for this date. Throwing yourself down on your desk chair, you start tugging the stockings down your legs. 

You’re not sure why you thought tights would work during the peak of a Kansas summer, but you’re clearly not thinking much at all today. Head propped in your hand, you slump against the edge of your desk, fingers running idly over the scattered makeup on the surface. Even that hasn't gone right, your normal safeties failing you when you need them most. 

Maybe this was all a sign from the universe. You and Clark have been friends since you could walk, what if this stupid date was going to ruin everything between you?

Sighing, you reach for the only framed picture in your room. It’s silly, something Martha took when you were both too busy playing to see her. You and Clark, freshly five, sit around your old purple play table, the both of you covered in glitter and rocking some of the biggest tutus you’ve ever seen. You’re yelling at him in the picture, probably telling him to put his pinky up when he drinks his tea, and he’s just grinning at you.

It’s funny how that smile never changed. Something warm unfurls and blooms in your chest the longer you look at the picture. It’s Clark, he doesn’t care what you wear or if you’ve put on makeup or not. You both loved each other long before that was ever a problem, and it’s not going to start being one now. 

Sucking in a deep breath you put on the first outfit you’d picked out, a simple white sundress. You rarely get to wear it, anyway. Might as well test it out now. You check the mirror one last time just as someone knocks on your bedroom door. 

Clark calls out your name on the other side, sounding hesitant. “Sorry, um,” he chuckles and you can picture the way he must be nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I got here a little early.”

You dart away from the mirror, kicking all the clothes under your bed. You slide the makeup into your desk drawer to be dealt with later. For now, you just need to make sure that he doesn’t see what a hot mess your room is. 

Sucking in a deep breath, you tug the hem of your dress down and shake off your worries. This is Clark. Your Clarkie, the boy you’ve tormented since you were a toddler. There’s nothing to worry about. 

“You’re always early, Clark,” you tell him with a soft smile as you open the door. 

His eyes widen slightly as he looks down at you. You did purposefully pick a dress that would emphasize certain aspects of yours. The pink flush on his cheeks is entirely worth it. Your eyes are drawn to the bunch of flowers in his hand and you grin. “Are those for me?” You gush, opening your door wider for him to step inside. 

“Yeah,” he holds them out to you, blue eyes stuck on yours. “I thought you might like them.” You bring them closer to your face, taking in the faint scent of the roses. 

“I love them, thank you,” you find yourself unable to stop smiling as you drop the roses in a glass of water by your bed. After building up your hopes and anxieties for a week because of this date, you're struggling to calm yourself down. 

Turning, you find him already looking at you with a soft smile that calms your racing heart just a bit. “I’ve been looking forward to this for a while,” he tells you, taking a step closer to you. His hands find your own, pulling you into him. “Not just the date,” he amends, smile stretching wider. “Asking you out. I think our friends were getting sick of listening to me talk about you all the time.”

You laugh, “I think they were getting sick of both of us. I feel so oblivious that it took me so long to realize you felt the same way.” 

He huffs, though his tone remains good-natured, “How do you think I feel?”

“Well,” you lace your fingers with his and step closer, “we’re doing it now, that’s what matters.” He ducks down and you feel your breath stutter, but he only leaves a brief kiss on your cheek, pulling back with a sheepish expression. A gentleman through and through. 

You’d never thought that knowing Clark for as well and as long as you have could be a bad thing. But now, sitting in The Talon and awkwardly dipping your fries in ketchup just to have something to do, you’re starting to realize it is. Being with each other nearly every day leaves you wanting for conversation. You both are already so caught up on what’s going on in each other’s lives that you’re struggling not to just bring up the weather. 

Clark groans and you startle, the noise breaking through the thick silence between you. He leans back in the booth, head resting on the edge and you find your eyes drawn to the strong muscles of his neck, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. 

Clearing your throat you glance away from him and push your plate away. “I didn’t want it to be like this,” Clark mutters, more to himself than you, but you hear him anyway. 

“It’s, well,” you pause, struggling for the words. Letting out a self-deprecating laugh, you shake your head. “I just don’t know what to do when we’re like this,” he peeks an eye open and you gesture between the two of you. 

His lips quirk up and he straightens once more. “I feel like I should be able to talk to you, same as always. But I don't know what to say, I don’t want to risk messing this up.” He trails off, glancing away from you and swallowing roughly. The same dreaded panic you’ve been feeling all week is thick in his voice. 

“Clark,” you utter his name lowly, reaching your hand out across the table. He’s slow to meet your eyes. “I feel the same way. We’re being stupid because I know that nothing you could say is going to change how I feel about you.” You narrow your eyes, taking on a teasing tone, “And you better feel the same way,” you scold. 

He huffs out a laugh, larger hand enveloping yours entirely and squeezing gently, “You know I do.”

You shrug, “Then we’re just being stupid, again,” you add, rolling your eyes. 

His eyes light up with mischief, a smile spreading as he stands from his seat. You jump back slightly, surprised by the sudden movement. “I’ve got an idea, come on,” he holds his hand out and you take it once more. 

You let out a surprised laugh as he takes off, dragging you out of the Talon behind him. “Where are we going?” 

He pauses for a moment, looking over his shoulder at you. It awes you, just how handsome he is. “It’s a surprise,” he winks and tugs you closer. 

“Your surprise is… the school?” You frown, taking Clark’s hand as he helps you down from the truck. 

“No,” he defends, shooting you a sarcastic look as he closes the door behind you. “We’re sneaking onto the field, like we used to. Maybe a little jog down memory lane will help,” he gives you a cheesy smile and you feel like you might melt.  

The sun hangs low on the horizon, its fading golden hues painting the sky in soft oranges and purples. The light catches in Clark’s hair, casting a warm halo around him. Sometimes he seems so overwhelmingly perfect that you wonder if you’ll ever be enough for him. Even when you were beginning to give up hope, he comes up with something so sweet, so thoughtful, that all you want to do is kiss him. 

Swallowing down the urge, you place your hand in his and let him lead you around the side of the school. “You know, we only used to do this to mess with the football players,” you tease. “Hard to do when you’re on the team, Clarkie.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Hey, we can still tear the seams on their jerseys- just not mine.” He throws you a grin, and it sends a rush of warmth through your chest.

The familiar path behind the school is darker now, but your steps fall in sync like muscle memory. The fence around the field looms ahead, a little more daunting than normal. It’s harder to climb in your dress, but Clark gives you a boost. One so strong you nearly fly over. 

Landing with a huff, you turn to glare at him as he pulls himself over with ease. “Too much torque in the thrust, Clark,” you grumble, brushing off your hands. 

He chuckles, throwing an arm over your shoulders as you both step onto the field. “Come on, we should get down there before the sun’s gone.”

Dew from the grass seeps its way into the thin fabric of your shoes as you walk toward the center of the field. The bleachers stand empty, the goalposts stretch high into the deepening sky, and for the first time tonight, you feel like you can take a breath. 

Clark shrugs off his jacket, laying it out on the grass and motioning for you to sit. You hesitate for a moment, but then you look down at the white fabric of your dress and decide you’re okay with sacrificing Clark’s jacket.

Clark lowers himself beside you, leaning back on his palms as he gazes up at the sky. The last streaks of sunlight fade, and one by one, the stars blink to life above you. You’ve always thought the sky above Smallville was different than anywhere else. As if the stars were reaching out to you. Considering your track record with meteors, it doesn’t seem that far off. 

For a while, neither of you speak. The quiet is comfortable, not at all like the stilted silence you’d felt in the diner. You’re content just being here with him, under the vast, endless sky. 

Clark is the first to break the peace. He shifts beside you, drawing in a slow breath as he disrupts the silence. “I’ve,” he hesitates on the word, “cared about you for a long time,” he admits, voice low and steady. “Longer than I ever told you.”

You glance over at him and find his gaze fixed on the stars. His jaw is tense, like he’s bracing himself for you to tell him this was all one big mistake and you’re better off as friends. A smile pulls at your lips at the ridiculous thought and you reach toward the small space between you both. Placing your hand over his, he finally looks at you. 

“I know things are,” he pauses, “a little weird between us right now.” He looks at your hand and flips his palm so he can lace your fingers together. “But I don’t want to lose what we have. If you’re willing to make it work, I am too.”

Your heart stutters, and for a moment all you can do is stare at him. At the boy who’s always been there, the boy who, despite everything, still makes your heart race. Your smile spreads, “Of course I’m willing,” you whisper. 

His breath hitches, and then he grins, the same grin that will never fail to make you lightheaded with infatuation.

Clark was meant to be here an hour ago. You’d made plans to go to a screening of some old movies at the theater. Sitting on the steps of your front porch, head propped in your hand, you look out at the farmlands around you. He only lives a few minutes away from you, you can’t fathom why he would be so late. 

You’d like to give him the benefit of the doubt, he’s not the type of guy to just leave you hanging. But there’s something humiliating about sitting out here all on your own. The wind has already fussed and ruined the hairstyle you’d so meticulously worked on. You’d already missed half of one of the movies. And the sun is beginning to set. 

Part of you is begging to just go inside and give up, but you're more stubborn half won't give in. Clark isn't like this, he wouldn't do something like this without good reason. 

A rumble sounds down the highway and your head perks up, crestfallen look replaced with something more hopeful. Getting to your feet, you grimace at the pins and needles tingling down your legs. Walking down the steps and getting a good look at the approaching motorcycle, your stomach plummets. 

Not Clark, then, though it’s odd to see someone beside you or the Kent’s driving on this stretch of road. Your hand tightens around the hem of your tank top as the motorcycle begins to slow as it approaches your house. Heart picking up, you take a step back toward the safety of the porch. 

Maybe they just need directions or maybe…

Your brain breaks for a moment as the rider pulls into your driveway. 

Maybe they’re Clark. 

Your jaw drops as he shoots you a smarmy grin, getting off his father’s bike and striding toward you with a swagger you’re unused to. “Hiya, sweetheart." You take a step back from him, brows furrowed. 

“Clark,” you spit his name out in shock, eyes darting between him and the bike. Knowing that he’s not dying somewhere in a ditch, your anger at being left waiting surges forth. “You’re an hour late because you were busy stealing your dad’s bike?” You demand, trying to ignore just how good he looks leaning against the post of your porch in that ridiculous leather jacket. 

“Sure,” he chuckles and rolls his eyes, brushing past you and heading back to the bike. “That’s why,” he snaps, like you’re slow. He straddles the bike and nods you forward. “You coming or not?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, you glance between him and the front door of your house. Again, giving him the benefit of the doubt, you choose to get on the back of the bike. Maybe this is all just one big act that he’s putting on to surprise you with something at the theater. 

He turns the key and you frown, “Helmet?” You ask weakly. He doesn’t respond, just laughs and peels out of your driveway. You squeal, grabbing on tight to his waist and burying your face in his back. 

This isn’t an act, and this definitely isn’t Clark. But whoever he is, you just got on the back of his motorcycle like an idiot. 

With every turn and rev of the bike, you prepare to feel the pavement beneath your palms. Still, as reckless and nauseating as his driving is, he manages to get you here in one piece. Though, where here is, you’re not sure. 

Clark swings off the bike effortlessly, grinning over his shoulder at a group of girls walking into the building behind him. He doesn’t seem to notice, or care, about the way your hands still tremble from the ride. You’d been too busy clutching onto him for dear life to pay any attention to where you were going and you’re starting to regret it. 

The building is nothing more than dirtied brick, the faded neon sign above the door advertising beer and live music. The bass thumps from inside, vibrating the gravel beneath your feet. From within, you hear jeering shouts, the telltale sounds of a crowd on the verge of chaos.

“Clark,” despite his odd behavior, you still find yourself stepping toward him and holding tight to his hand. The sheltered life of Smallville hasn’t exactly prepared you for backwoods, seedy bars. “Where are we?” You peer up at him and the glint in his eyes makes your stomach clench with trepidation. 

“Oh,” he laughs, tugging you toward the entrance, “you’re gonna like this,” he swears. Despite the way you dig your heels into the dirt, he keeps pulling, giving you no choice but to follow him into the bar. 

The air changes as you step inside, it’s worse than you thought it would be. Thick with heat and smoke, it pulses with the heavy bass of a song you don’t recognize. Multicolored lights flash across the writhing bodies on the dance floor. The scent of spilled beer, sweat, and something sticky clings to the air. 

Your fingers tighten around Clark’s arm as he moves forward, practically wrapping yourself around him. He weaves through the crowd like he belongs here. If you let go now, you know he wouldn’t stop, he’d just keep going, leaving you all alone in a place you want no part of.  

Clark drags you to the edge of the bar and slips a crumpled twenty across the counter. Wordlessly, and without checking for IDs, the bartender slides over two beers. Clark grabs one and to your utter shock, tilts it back, downing one long gulp. 

“You gonna stand there watching me,” he challenges, “or are you finally going to let loose and have some fun?”

“No, Clark, I’m not drinking. And neither should you! You’re driving us back,” you snap, eyes darting around the seedy crowd. 

Settling the half-empty bottle on the counter, he smirks, “Relax. We’re here to have a good time,” his tone almost sounds like a threat. Have a good time or else…

His gaze flickers toward the dance floor and your heart sinks at the mischief in his expression. “And I know exactly how to help you loosen up.”

Again, he gives you no time to protest or even form an opinion before he grabs you and pulls you toward the center of the dance floor. You feel like a leashed dog, no choice but to obey. 

The music shifts into something darker, slower, a sultry beat thrumming through the air. It charges the atmosphere of the dancers and the crowd sways, bodies pressed tightly together as they move with the rhythm. 

“Clark,” you glance around at the writhing bodies and swallow thickly. “I don’t-”

“Just one dance,” he cuts you off smoothly, voice low and coaxing. His lips curl up in a gentle smile as his hands find your waist. His grip is tight but not uncomfortable as he helps move your hips into the rhythm of the song. “Trust me.”

You hesitate, but it’s easier than you thought to simply fall into the slow, lazy grind of the dance. Your body moves in sync with his, despite the apprehension tightening through you. There’s something wrong with him, that’s clear enough. This isn’t the Clark you know, this is some bold, almost predatory version of him. 

One of his hands drifts up from your waist, dragging the hem of your thin tank top up slightly as his fingers brush against the nape of your neck. A shiver runs down your spine as his grip tightens, tilting your head back. You press your hands against his chest, eyes rounding in confusion. 

“Clark,” you whisper his name, breathless from the proximity. “What are you-”

He cuts you off, voice rough and breath warm against your lips, “Finally taking what I want.” His head dips down, lips capturing your own. It’s not the soft, gentle first kiss you’d always imagine you would share with him. This is hard, demanding. 

He’s claiming you, marking his territory as he slips his hand lower on your waist. He pulls you flush against him, hips pressing against yours. A heat slowly spreads in you, but it's overshadowed by the overwhelming feeling that this isn’t Clark. 

You push against his chest and you know he lets you go, the situation still under his control. He backs off with an irritated look, eyes narrowed down at you. 

Your breath comes in quick, uneven gasps as you stare up at him. “What the hell, Clark?”

“What’s your problem?” He snaps, hand flexing around your neck before dropping to his side. 

“You,” you hiss, eyes narrowing. “You’re not yourself, Clark.”

His jaw tenses, fists clenching by his side as he takes a step back from you. “Why? Because I’m finally doing what I want?” His voice is sharp, it bites at the fraying edges of your patience. The music around you picks up pace and somebody slams into you from behind. 

With a pained gasp, you stumble forward, rubbing the sore spot where their elbow had slammed into your ribs. Clark watches it all with a bored look. Gone is the gentle, considerate boy you’ve known your whole life. This boy before you is reckless and selfish, you don’t want anything to do with him. 

His attention flickers past you and you turn to follow his gaze. A pretty blonde sways in the middle of the dance floor, hips moving gracefully as her laughter rings above the music. Without a word or a second glance, he steps around you, striding toward her with the same effortless confidence he just used on you. 

Frozen by disbelief and anger, you watch as he slides a hand around her waist, murmuring something in her ear that makes her giggle. The crowd shifts again, blocking your view of the two. It’s for the better as you suck in sharp breaths, trying to keep the tears at bay. 

A lump clogs your throat and you rush toward the back of the bar, hoping there might be a bathroom to hide in. You just need a second away from the sweat and noise of the dancers. You stumble through a stained door and slam it closed behind you, wiping desperately at the tears rolling down your cheeks. 

After splashing cold water over your face and simply standing in there for a few minutes, you finally feel stable enough to go back outside. You’re just going to ask Clark to take you home and then you hope you never have to see him again. 

But when you return to the dance floor, heart still pounding its way up your throat, you can’t find Clark. You can’t even find the blonde. He’s acting like a jackass, but there’s no way he would just leave you. 

Right?

You rush outside, your stomach dropping like a stone when you see the parking lot. The motorcycle is gone. 

He left you behind. 

“Thank you,” your gaze stays trained on your hands, not ready to look at Lex. You feel his stare boring into the side of your head before he turns back to the road. 

“You don’t have to thank me. I’m glad you called me instead of trying to get home on your own.” He pauses, hand tightening on the steering wheel as he takes in a deep breath. “But what were you doing in a place like that?”

You slump in the passenger seat, rubbing a tired hand over your face. All you want to do is go home and wash this night away. You’re hesitant to tell him the truth, knowing he might give Clark hell for leaving you there. A part of you is still primed to protect him, but the other part, the one that was just left behind, can’t care. 

“Clark,” you tell him and his head whips around so fast you’re surprised you don't hear it snap. “He was acting weird tonight. Took me there and then left with another girl.”

“Are you serious?” He demands, sounding angry on your behalf. Right now, though, you don’t have the energy for anger. “Clark wouldn’t do that.”

You suck in a deep breath and finally look at him, “The one I know wouldn’t,” you offer vaguely, ignoring his confused expression. “Honestly, I just want to get home and never talk to him again.”

Lex chuckles a little, “You don’t mean that.”

“Try me,” you snap, glaring out the window. You’re debating calling Clark’s dad and telling him that Clark took the bike. If not just for petty revenge. Just the thought of it makes you feel tired. 

“I’m sure,” Lex starts, already sounding like he doesn’t believe himself, “he had a perfectly reasonable explanation for what he did.” You roll your eyes, giving him a deadpan look. His hand lifts slightly off the wheel in surrender. “There’s no excuse,” he amends.

“No, there’s not.” The car rolls to a stop and you look out the window, surprised to already be at your house. The porch light is off, your parents must already be asleep. “I really can’t thank you enough,” you tell Lex, offering him a weak but grateful smile. 

He waves you off, “Forget it, I’m glad I could help. If you ever need anything else…” He trails off, leaving the offer open-ended. 

You nod, opening the passenger door and stepping out. You’re just about to close it when something occurs to you. Clark always gives you a ride to school, you’re not going to have a way to get there after tonight. 

“Oh,” you groan, pinching the bridge of your nose in irritation. 

“What’s wrong?” Lex looks concerned and you offer him an apologetic grimace. 

“I actually do need something,” you tell him, sheepish and pleading. 

Clark wakes up with a fog clouding his mind, a dull pounding behind his eyes. Vague flashes of memory flicker through the haze. The sound of your upset voice, the thrum of music, and the feeling of your body pressed against his. It makes his cheeks flush with warmth, but none of it connects for him. Everything’s one frustrating blur. 

But he can figure that out later, his gaze drifts toward the clock on his nightstand and his eyes widen. He leaps off the bed, nearly tripping as he gets wrapped up in his sheets. He was meant to pick you up ten minutes ago. 

Clark throws on the first clothes he finds, raking a hand through his messy hair as he bolts down the stairs. His backpack is nearly left by the door as he rushes out. If he could, he’d run you to school. It would be so much faster, so much easier. But that would require explaining why he could do that, and he doesn’t think you’d appreciate him springing the truth of his abilities on you this early in the morning. 

You’re not exactly a morning person. 

He speeds down the road, the truck’s tires kicking up dust as he pulls into your driveway. Throwing the truck in park he doesn’t even bother cutting the engine before leaping out. Two steps at a time, he bounds up your front porch and knocks firmly on the door. 

His foot taps against the wood of the porch as he checks the watch on his wrist. If you hurry, you might both be able to make it to first period on time. After a minute of silence he knocks again, but he’s greeted with the same silence. 

He steps back, brows knitted together, and his gaze flickers toward the front window. He ignores the feeling of being a complete creeper as he peers through the glass. The house looks unnaturally still, none of your usual morning mess as you rush to get ready on time. The lights are off and he can’t hear anything inside. 

Your parents are usually gone before you even wake up. He can’t think of anyone else who would give you a ride. Or why you would even have anyone else drive you. A strange unease coils in his stomach and another brief memory flashes through his mind. It’s not much, just a pretty blonde smiling up at him. 

Jaw tightening, Clark turns back to his truck, climbing inside and heading straight for school. He’s sure everything’s fine. You probably had Chloe or Lana pick you up. Still, even with him being ten minutes late, he’s not sure how they would have gotten to your house before him. 

Pulling into the parking lot he frowns, greeted first thing in the morning by Lex’s ridiculously overpriced sports car. It’s parked right in front of the entrance and he wonders what business Lex would have at the high school. 

The passenger door opens and you step out, your bag slung over one shoulder. You turn to Lex, smiling as you give him a sweet wave. Clark watches it all with his shoulders tensed as something sharp and hot twists in Clark’s chest. 

He watches as Lex pulls out of the parking lot, jaw clenched in irritation. He throws the truck into park and gets out, heading toward the front doors. Inside, the hallways seem more crowded than usual but he still manages to make you out almost instantly. 

You’re at your locker, pulling out books as if nothing’s wrong. As if you didn’t get a ride with Lex Luthor and ditch him for seemingly no reason at all. 

Clark makes a beeline for you, tightening his grip on his backpack as he stops beside your locker. “Hey,” he calls, forcing a smile. “Did I miss something? I thought I was picking you up this morning.”

You don’t even bother looking at him, eyes stubbornly pointed forward. “Guess I made other plans.”

The coldness in your voice stops him in his tracks. His stomach drops, smile faltering as you continue to pretend there’s anything more for you to grab from your locker. “Okay…” He exhales slowly. “Did something happen?”

You slam your locker shut and he jumps. Whipping around to face him, your eyes are dark with anger as you glare up at him. “Really?” You snap and his eyes widen in surprise. “This is what you’re doing, pretending you don’t remember?”

Clark blinks, thrown off by the heat in your voice. “I-”

“Forget it,” you cut him off. You shake your head, looking tired. “Just leave me alone, Clark. Seems to be something you’re good at, anyway.” You whip around, storming off down the hall and leaving him reeling. He wants to go after you but you’re already slipping into your English class and he knows there’s no way he’ll be able to talk to you in there. 

He hovers in the hallway, stunned. What the hell happened last night?

His mind races, grasping at the fleeting memories. There was a bar, he’s not even sure how he found that place. He was dancing with you and then kissing you. His eyes widen at that, grimacing at the blurred memory of your rough first kiss. He’d been hoping for something a little sweeter than some backwoods bar. 

He remembers you being angry at him but that’s it. There are holes and gaps that he can’t remember no matter how hard he tries. There’s only one thing that could explain the reckless behavior, the memory gaps, and the way he felt like someone else.

Red kryptonite. 

His heart sinks and his head falls into his hands. He hurt you and probably scared you. You don’t even want to look at him now. Straightening up, he runs a hand through his hair and tries to think of a way to fix all of this. 

He’s not sure he can, not when he can’t even remember what he’s done to you. 

Admittedly, ambushing you outside of class probably wasn’t the best way to go about this. But he needed to make sure you couldn’t run from him. You walk out the door, books clutched to your chest, and head down. 

Clark falls into step beside you and you briefly glance up, rolling your eyes when you realize it’s him. You pick up your pace, clearly trying to put space between the both of you. “Wait,” he calls, stepping in front of you. “One chance to explain, please.”

You stop in the middle of the hall, uncaring to the students parting around you. “Clark-”

“I don’t remember everything,” he admits, voice low and desperate as he pushes through your objection. “But I know something happened. And I need to fix this.”

Exhaling sharply, you can’t seem to meet his eye. “There’s nothing to fix.”

That can’t be true. He won’t let that be true. “Please,” he presses. “Just… one chance.”

For a moment, you hesitate, teeth pressing into your lower lip as you take a step back from him. “Fine,” you relent, sounding wholly reluctant. “We’ll talk after school.”

Relief floods through him and he finally manages a real smile for the first time all morning. “Okay,” he utters, trying not to sound surprised. “Great, I’ll drive you home, and-”

“No,” you cut him off, shaking your head. “Lex is giving me a ride,” he opens his mouth to protest and you shoot him a sharp look. His jaw snaps closed and he sighs. “I’ll meet you at your house later,” you tell him, leaving no room for argument. 

His stomach twists as you turn and walk away. Lex, he scoffs and shakes his head. When did the two of you get close? One bad night and you’re already done with him?

The thought should fill him with anger, but it only makes his worry grow. Whatever he had done last night must have been truly awful. He hates that there’s a chance he won’t be able to fix this. But what makes it worse is knowing that it’s all his fault.

Clark’s in his room when he hears you pull up to the house. He doesn’t waste any time as he heads down the stairs. “What happened to ‘I never want to see him again?’” Clark has no shame as he listens to your conversation. He doesn’t appreciate how comfortable Lex sounds teasing you. 

“Yeah, well,” your voice loses its muffled edge as you open the passenger door. “I deserve an explanation.”

“Call me if you need anything,” Lex tells you as Clark opens his front door. Rolling his eyes, Clark jogs down the steps of his porch, heading toward you both. You turn over your shoulder, smile falling as you nod your head in greeting. 

Clark’s waited forever to finally tell you how he really feels about you. Years of pining all led to that one moment where you told him that you feel the same way. He’d finally gotten a chance with you, to be with you like he always wanted. He’s not going to let last night ruin everything. 

“Thanks, Lex,” you mutter, closing the passenger door and marching toward Clark. Lex lingers for a moment and Clark sends him a stiff smile and wave. Lex returns it with a smirk before driving off. 

“So,” arms crossed across your chest, you glance up at him with barely veiled apprehension. “Are we going inside?”

Clark glances back at his house and shakes his head. He holds his hand out to you and you give him a wary glare. “Please,” he asks, and after a moment you place your hand in his. He smiles and leads you to the barn. 

Call it nostalgia, call it desperation but whatever compelled you to actually hear Clark out can go bite it. He abandoned you at a club in a town you hadn’t even heard of. To go be with another girl, no less. You shouldn’t have even stopped to listen to him in the hallway. It’s a lack of self-respect, really. 

But there was something in his eyes that compelled you to stay. Last night, he’d been a stranger wearing Clark’s face. This morning, you saw the earnest sincerity you always do when you look into those pretty blue eyes of his. Giving in was an inevitability. 

Walking the familiar path to the barn you’re struck with a feeling almost like grief. Whatever could have bloomed between you and Clark feels like sand falling through your fingers. Unless he’s about to open those doors and reveal an evil twin, you’re not sure you could ever forgive him. 

Clark glances over his shoulder at you, a gentle smile pulling at the corners of his lips. He throws the doors of the barn open and you roll your eyes at the dramatics. You slip past him and head inside, stopping short once you see what he’s done. 

Fairy lights dangle above the loft, illuminating what looks like a poorly built blanket fort. Christmas lights he clearly stole from his mom are hung haphazardly from the rafters. You can see the effort he put into making the barn feel special, even if the execution is lacking.

It’s the nostalgia of it all that makes you smile. Summer’s spent camping out in the barn, hidden away under blanket forts, and trying to scare each other with your bad ghost stories. It’s a time capsule of your childhood. And you know what he’s trying to do, how he’s trying to soften the hard edges of your resentment. You hate that it’s beginning to work. 

Clark heads up to the loft first, glancing over his shoulder and motioning for you to follow. You sigh, face blank as you work to keep up the cool exterior you feel slowly melting away. He offers his hand as you reach the top, and after a beat of hesitation, you reluctantly take it. 

Clark pulls you forward and keeps your hand in his as he leads you to sit down across from him. Sinking back into the plush pillows and blankets you prop your head in your hand, watching him with a bored expression. Sucking in a deep breath, he rubs his hands along the surface of his jeans, avoiding your eyes for a moment. 

“I didn’t want our first kiss to be in some bar.” He chuckles awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck before finally meeting your eyes. “I didn’t want our first anything to be there. I wanted it to be somewhere like this, somewhere that actually meant something to us.” 

His throat bobs as he swallows. Then he leans closer, reaching across the space between you, his fingers curling around yours again. The warmth of his palm is comforting, even if you don’t let him see that. “I don’t want to lose my best friend. I don’t want to lose you, you have to believe me. What happened last night, it wasn’t me.”

Your expression hardens and you yank your hand from his, putting distance between you. Clark’s face flickers with hurt, but you ignore it. “Why should I believe anything you say, Clark? What happened last night was an eye-opener. Clearly, we’re better off just being friends.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, looking like you’ve just punched him in the gut. “You don’t mean that,” he murmurs. 

“Don’t I?”

Clark drops his head into his hands, fingers threading through his hair. His shoulders curl inward, and for a long while, he doesn’t speak. The silence between you stretches, thick with unspoken words. 

Maybe it would be better for you to just leave. Some space might do both of you good, and help you come to terms with the truth of it all. 

This was never going to work. 

Clark exhales slowly, then straightens, blue eyes meeting yours with an intensity that catches you off guard. “Alright,” he nods, some internal battle going on that you’re not privy to. “Stand by the window.”

Your brows furrow and you shake your head. “What?”

“Do it,” he tells you, tone firm, and you find yourself struggling for a reason not to listen. Finally, with a reluctant huff, you get up and go stand by the window. 

The golden fields stretch before you bathed in the warm glow of the setting sun. The wheat sways gently in the evening breeze. Utterly boring and un-fascinating. 

You roll your eyes, “Clark, I swear-” 

A distant whistle cuts through the air. You whip around, expecting to see Clark behind you and instead find the loft empty. Your stomach tightens and you turn back to the window. A flicker of movement catches your attention, “What the…”

You press against the window, squinting at the field below. That’s when you see him. A very small Clark waves from the middle of the wheat, far too distant for how quickly he got there. Your breath catches and you find yourself waving back without thinking. 

There’s no possible way he crossed all that in under thirty seconds. 

But he’s not satisfied with just an impressive show of speed. Clark disappears and then reappears right below the barn window. Only, he’s not alone. 

Above his head, with terrifying ease, he’s holding a goddamn tractor. Your heart slams against your ribs. “Clark!” You shout, terrified this little stunt of his is going to end with him sandwiched into the dirt. He sets it down casually, as if it weighs nothing. 

A gust of wind pushes your hair forward and you turn sharply. Clark stands behind you now, cheeks flushed, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “What the hell was that?” You demand, eyes darting between him and the tractor outside.

“It’s what I wanted to tell you. What I’ve always wanted to tell you,” he concedes, his smile faltering slightly, his voice tinged with something vulnerable. 

Still stunned, you sink onto the couch as he begins to explain. About the crash landing. About his powers. How he’s different.  

Your best friend- your almost-boyfriend, is an alien. 

Of all the things racing through your mind, only one question comes to mind. “Why have you never told me?” You don’t ask him if he was from Jupiter or Mars, or if he’s got a secret eye hidden somewhere. You just want to know why he didn’t think he could trust you. 

Clark hesitates. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he says, “I was afraid you wouldn’t want me anymore. That you’d see me as some freak.”

You snort, “You’re an idiot is what you are.”

 His head snaps up, blinking at you in surprise. “Clark, why would I ever care about what planet you’re from?” You shake your head, a smile creeping onto your lips as you shift forward, kneeling in front of him. Your hands find his, squeezing slightly. Then, hesitantly, you reach up, cupping his cheek. A smile spreads across your face as he leans into the touch. “I care about you, not about what rocket you crash-landed in.”

“More of a pod,” he corrects and you shoot him a sharp look that makes him laugh. He sobers quickly, smile fading, “I understand if you can’t forgive me for last night.”

“Well,” you muse, tilting your head. “It wasn’t really you, right? It was that krypto- karo-”

“Kryptonite,” he grins a little at the way you stumble over the word. “And, yes, it was. I would never purposefully hurt you, but it’s not an excuse.”

“It’s actually the only acceptable excuse,” you tell him, rolling your eyes playfully. “That or evil twin.” Clark’s eyes widen slightly and you narrow yours. “Do you actually have an evil twin?” You shake your head, “Never mind, we’ll talk about that later.”

You glance up at the twinkling lights strung above, the warm glow making the loft feel impossibly soft, impossibly safe. “Clark?” You ask and he hums, already looking at you when you glance back at him. “We can always try that first kiss again.”

His smile, soft and sweet, mirrors your own. As you lean in, his arms circle your waist, pulling you gently into him. Your fingers thread through the soft tresses of his hair as his lips brush against yours, soft, lingering, right. 

This. This is what you knew it would feel like. This is home and safety, everything good in your life. You smile against Clark’s lips knowing that no matter what evil twins or toxic rocks come at you, you’ll face it together.

end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

revealing my alter ego

𝐴𝑙𝑙 𝐴𝑚𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝐵𝑜𝑦

▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||| ᴄʟᴀʀᴋ ᴋᴇɴᴛ x fem! reader

A/N: I watched maybe two seasons of this show last year and kind of moved past it. I randomly got a Clark Kent fic on my feed last night and suddenly I have a demon in my brain telling me to write. Anyway, there is a horrendous lack of full fledged, non-smut fics for this man, so, here you go.

Summary: Your friend has been distant for months, all of a sudden he's a brand new man. He's practically a puppy dog following after you and you're not sure how to feel. What's a girl to do when she suddenly finds herself looking at not one, but two Clark Kent's?

“Have any plans?” You pull your English book from your locker, fingers stilling as you wait for Clark to respond. Silence stretches between you, long enough to make your brows furrow in confusion. Peering around the edge of your locker door with narrowed eyes, you let out a sigh. 

You should have seen this coming. As always, Clark is staring at Lana from across the hall, looking like he walked straight out of a sappy romance movie. 

She’s close, so close, but entirely out of his reach. She laughs, tucking a perfect, shiny strand of hair behind her ear, completely unaware of the way Clark pines for her. Always pining. Always looking at her like she’s the only girl in the world. 

You could gag. 

Slamming your locker shut, perhaps harder than necessary, you break Clark out of his trance as he flinches away from the noise. His head snaps toward you, blue eyes narrowed on the irritated scrunch of your face. You smile, forcing the snark out of your expression. 

“Did you say something?” His voice is kind, expression open, as though he’s finally ready to listen. But the bell rings, cutting into the moment. You only have a minute to sprint to the other side of school. 

“No,” you sigh, forcing the stilted smile to stay on your face, “I gotta go.”

“I’ll walk with you,” he offers, falling into step beside you. “That way you can tell me what you actually said,” he teases, giving you that familiar boyish grin that never fails to make you unravel. 

You bite your tongue for a moment, mind unraveling as you struggle with telling him the truth or not. This is stupid. He’s Clark, your best friend. Your stupid, oblivious, beautiful best friend. But the way he looks at you, soft and warm as he slows his stride so he can walk together a little longer. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask. 

No. It will definitely still hurt. 

“Would you want to do something this weekend?” You rush it all out at once and immediately look away from him, terrified by what you might see on his face. 

There’s a beat of silence. Then Clark laughs, light and easy. Your stomach twists and your head shoots up, a disbelieving glare on your face. You’d known it would be unlikely that he’d return your feelings, but laughing seems below him. 

“Why’re you being so weird?” He shakes his head, still grinning. “We’ll just do a movie night like always.” He squeezes your shoulder, casual, friendly, a wholly innocent gesture. Nothing more and nothing different. It’s completely platonic to him, as it always is. It takes you a moment to realize that he took what you were saying the wrong way. Or, maybe this is just the gentlest way he knows how to let you down. 

“Right,” you struggle to keep your voice even but it doesn’t matter, the dejection slips through your tone. His smile falters slightly and he looks like he wants to say something when the shrill ring of the bell interrupts you both.

“I’ll see you later,” he offers but he sounds uncertain. Most of your plans have fallen through lately. Either because he was busy with Lana or off disappearing somewhere. You’re not sure, but you know the divide is growing larger between you both and you’re getting scared you’re going to lose him. 

“Sure,” you give him a flat smile and he hovers beside you for a moment, like he wants to fix this but doesn’t know how. 

“You’re going to be late,” you startle slightly and glance over your shoulder. Blake, a boy you share your English class with offers you a shy smile as he hovers by the door, holding it open for you to walk through.  

“Thanks,” you walk past them both and into class, not wanting to look at Clark any longer. You miss the sharp look Blake shoots Clark and the way your friend lingers by the door for a minute before rushing off to his own class. 

You slide into your seat, lucky to have gotten in before Mrs. Brown, lord knows she would love to make a spectacle of anyone being tardy. Blake follows not far behind you, slipping into the seat beside you as always. He’s nice enough, quiet, unassuming. You’ve never said more than a few words to each other, but right now all of his attention seems to be on you. 

He whispers your name and you give him a brief glance and smile, mind still wrapped up in Clark. “Um, I was going to ask,” he stutters over his words for a moment, swallowing thickly before finally meeting your eye. “Are you doing anything this weekend?”

“Yeah,” you answer absentmindedly. “I have plans with Clark,” you tell him shortly as Mrs. Brown walks in. You don’t have time to explain that you’ll probably just end up waiting around your house all weekend. Just to get a brief and incomprehensible explanation of why you were all alone on Monday. 

He sinks back in his seat with a sigh just as the teacher begins writing the assignment on the board. You shoot him a slightly concerned look before brushing the interaction off as nothing.

Standing in the line at The Talon has become almost a hobby for you. Not just because Clark drags you here constantly, but because he distracts Lana from actually taking any orders. The wait time seems to triple every time he walks into the shop. You hear people grumbling behind you and finally move toward Clark, breaking the unspoken rule of leaving him and Lana alone. 

“There’s a line, Clark,” you sing-song, warning him. The both of them flush, breaking their hushed conversation and shooting you a sheepish look. 

“I’m sorry,” Lana apologizes and you wave her off. “Do you want anything?” 

You’d been considering getting a muffin, but when you look over and see the lovesick smile Clark is giving her, you find your appetite has disappeared. “Uh, no, I’m good.”

Clark turns toward you with a soft frown and he nearly makes you forget just how much you resent him for dragging you along to see this. “I thought you were hungry.”

You glance back at Lana and find her eyes already on him. God, what’s the point of a breakup if you’re still obsessed with each other? “No, it’s alright.”

You move away from the counter to step outside, expecting him to stay there and continue flirting despite the angry customers behind them. You’re surprised when you hear his voice immediately beside you. 

“Hey,” he moves away from the door, a grin on his face. Face wrinkling in confusion, you nod your head in greeting even though you’d just seen him. Your eyes narrow in on the leather of his jacket and your head tilts in confusion. You swear he was wearing a zip up a moment ago. “What’re you doing?” He asks, tone light as he stands beside you closer than he normally would. 

“Uh,” you’re tempted to glance over your shoulder and make sure he isn’t still standing in The Talon. “Did you hit your head?” He flushes slightly and you laugh. “Just our usual friday endeavors, you moon over Lana and I hold back the mob of angry customers who just want a coffee.” Laughing to ease some of your own tension, it trails off when you see the smile drop from his face. 

His eyes narrow and he glances toward the shop, “Idiot,” he mutters. You shoot him an affronted look and he blanches, quickly correcting himself. “Me, not you.” You want to question him further but he slings an arm over your shoulder and redirects you away from the shop. Mind a blank slate, you feel your brain break slightly at the simple touch. 

When you were younger, before Lana, before either of you even knew what crushes were, something like this would mean nothing to you. As it is, though, your friendship seems to have dwindled to nothing but compulsory hangouts and the occasional conversation in the hallway. Something as simple as his arm around you has turned into everything for you. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” 

“Movies at your place, like usual,” you remind him. He must have slipped and hit his head on the way out of The Talon.  Either that, or he already forgot the plans you made just this morning. Neither would surprise you. 

His face screws up and he shakes his head, “God, that’s lame.” You scoff, shooting him an odd look, not bothering to remind him that it was his idea. “I mean what’s he-” 

Clark cuts himself off, glancing down at you before letting out a short laugh. “How ‘bout the fair?”

You reach up and press the back of your hand to his forehead. He gives you a bewildered laugh, taking your hand in his and grinning. “What are you doing?”

You lean back slightly, breathless at the awestruck way he’s looking at you. You’ve only ever seen him look at…

Lana, you’ve only ever seen a look like this directed at Lana. But now, those deep blue eyes are pulling you in and you feel helpless to fight them. You swallow hard, blinking while you try to remember what you were even going to say. 

“Uh,” licking your lips you don’t miss the way his eyes track the movement. “I was seeing if you had a fever. Since when do you want to go out?” 

He laces your fingers together and tugs you forward, “Since now.” 

Usually, you’re not so quick to look a gift horse in the mouth. Months, you’ve been praying he treats you with even a semblance of care he throws toward Lana. Now, you finally get it and you can’t help the sick tightening feeling in your stomach telling you this is all wrong.

The fair is less crowded than you had expected. Though, it is nearly the last day it’s in town, you suppose everyone’s already had their fill of it. You have been trying to get Clark to come with you for nearly a week, maybe this is why he had waited so long to join you. Some of the rides you actually got all to yourself. 

“You know these things are rigged,” you tease, watching as he tries and fails at the bottle toss for the third time. The bored teenage girl behind the booth briefly glances up from her book to glare at you both. You shoot her a sardonic smile and she turns to Clark. 

“You can just buy the stuffed animal, ya know?” She drawls. 

“That’s cheating-”

“Where’s the fun in that-”

You and Clark share a grin as you speak over each other. The girl pales at your joined voices and returns quickly to her book, muttering something about annoying couples. 

Your stomach flutters at the idea of you and Clark as a couple but you push it down. “Alright,” Clark chuckles and holds his arm out for you, “let’s get out of here.”

You slip your arm through his easily, smiling up at him. You’ve long since stopped questioning just how touchy he is. Clearly, he’s in a generous mood tonight and you feel like taking advantage of that as much as possible.

“Where to next?” He asks and your eyes crawl across the fairground, struggling to find something you haven’t already done. 

You toss what must be your third lemonade in the closest bin and shoot him a sheepish smile. “I think I’ll need to go to the bathroom before we do any more rides.”

He’s slow to let you go, hand drifting down to hold yours as he steps back. “I’ll wait by the ferris wheel,” he tells you lowly. 

Your cheeks flush, eyes widening slightly as you slip away from him. The ferris wheel is notorious among Smallville students as the place to make a move. Everyone knows it’s just couples that ride up in those rickety old cars. Still, Clark is slightly oblivious to stuff like that. You don’t want to get your hopes up just for it to ultimately be nothing more than a friendly outing. 

Rushing toward the sad group of Port-a-potties you let out an annoyed sigh when you see the long line awaiting you. Your foot bounces against the dirt impatiently as you peer around the girl in front of you just to see there has to be, at least, ten people before you. 

There’s a vibration in your pocket before you hear the shrill ringing of your Nokia. Digging it out of your jeans you answer without checking the contact. “Hello?” The girl in front of you shoots you a dirty look and you take a step back from her. 

“Hey, where’re you?” You frown at the sound of Clark’s voice, glancing around like you might be able to spot him in the crowd. You’d told him where you were going, why would he be calling?

“You know where I am,” you tell him, chuckling. 

There’s a slight huff on the other end and you frown, he almost sounds disappointed. “What are you talking about? We were supposed to watch movies tonight.”

“Okay, Clark, I’m officially concerned. You’ve been acting weird all day. We’re at the fair,” you say slowly, over-enunciating your words like he’s slow. “You said movies were going to be lame.”

There’s a long pause and he utters your name in a concerningly serious tone. “The person you’re with-”

“Alright, do you mind?” The girl in front of you whips around and snaps at you. Blanching, you lower the phone from your ear and she shoots you an incredibly dirty look. 

“Clark, I’ll see you in a few minutes,” you whisper into the phone. 

“Wait-” 

You cut him off, hanging up and shoving your phone in your back pocket. She turns back around and rolls her eyes. It doesn’t take long for your Nokia to start ringing again but you figure you’ll just meet Clark by the ferris wheel like he said. 

Low groaning drifts through the noises of the crowd and makes you pause. Tilting your head around the corner of a trailer, the sounds only grow louder. Everything inside you says not to investigate, but the person sounds like they’re genuinely in pain. You can’t just walk away. 

“Hey,” you call out softly. “Are you okay?”

There’s no response and you take a hesitant step closer. A scuffed white converse slips from behind the back of the trailer and it looks worryingly similar to Clark’s. “Clark?” You call out, creeping a little further into the dark. 

It’s like a cocoon of silence back here, as though the shadows swallow the voices and loud cheering sounds of the games beyond you. “No,” the small voice croaks out. You see a hand in the dirt and they begin dragging themselves forward. You jump back a step, heart picking up as you watch them get to their feet. 

This was a stupid idea, walking toward a stranger in the dark. Even in Smallville you couldn’t trust everyone. They finally turn and you let out a relieved sigh. “Oh, Blake, hey.”

He gives you a weak grimace, clutching his stomach like he’s in pain. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” You ask, taking a step closer to him, trying to get a better look. 

“Fine, fine,” he stutters out, shifting just enough to keep his face half-hidden in the shadows.  Even knowing the person lurking within the shadows, you still feel slightly on edge. Something about the way he moves unsettles you. It’s not as though you know him well, he’s just a classmate. Someone quiet and harmless. Or, you hope he’s harmless, right now there’s something about him that feels wrong.

“Alright, um, if you’re sure,” you take a careful step backward. Your foot’s barely back on the ground when he lunges forward. His hands stretch toward you like he’s about to snatch you into the shadows with him. You’re stuck deciding whether you’re going to scream or bite him when he jerks back like a puppet being yanked on a string.  

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurts out, breathless. “Clark walked by. He- he told me to tell you he was leaving.”

Your stomach twists with panic. Right now you care more about not getting your throat slit in a dark alley than you do about Clark ditching you. Without a second thought, you turn on your heel and run out from between the trailers. You swear you hear footsteps, quick and light, following your path to the cars. 

Sliding into your car, you lock your doors and peel out of the lot. You leave the fair, and whatever just happened, behind, not looking back. The phone in your pocket vibrates again but you ignore it, too freaked out by what just happened to bother answering.  

Someone calls your name and you peer around the edge of your locker door, grimacing when you see Blake walking toward you. His brown hair is a mess, like he’s been fussing with it all morning, and his thick glasses, normally perched precariously on his nose, are nowhere to be seen. His normal polished clothes look like they’re three sizes too big and you frown.  

“Hey,” you drag the word out, trying to sound polite even if his outburst last night left you feeling incredibly unsettled. “Feeling any better?” You hesitate to meet his eyes, and when you do, your annoyance only deepens. 

He’s watching you expectantly, like he’s waiting for something. 

“Did you need anything?” You ask, voice trailing off as you close your locker and take two deliberate steps back. 

Blake’s brows furrow and he almost looks hurt before his expression smooths over into something startling unreadable. “Um, no, I’m sorry,” his gaze drifts past you. The color drains from his face and you barely have a second to process the oddity of this conversation before he turns on his heel and goes barrelling down the hall.

“Hey,” Clark’s familiar voice cuts through your confusion, and you turn to see him striding toward you. Gone is the easy, playful grin he wore last night. He looks more serious than you’ve ever seen him, intent on something. “We need to talk,” he tells you, tone grave. 

“I know,” you snipe, not bothering to hide your irritation at just leaving you alone at the fair last night. You aren’t surprised, he’s been doing that for weeks now. What stings is that, for a little while, you had felt like you were actually friends again, only for him to ruin it. 

His brow furrows and he glances around the empty hallway with a frown. “Look, we can’t talk here, but-”

The warning bell rings, cutting him off. “Shit,” you mutter, shoving your books into your bag and turning away from Clark. He calls your name but you wave him off. “Later, Clark, I can’t be late again.” He watches you go with a frown, running a hand through his hair before turning toward his own class. 

Not even ten minutes later you spot him walking past Mrs. Brown’s room. Though, you swear he was wearing a red shirt not a green one. You could be wrong, it’s not as if you had long to take in his outfit.

You figure he’s just passing by and go back to taking your notes. There’s a light hiss from the door and you frown, looking up to see him hovering in the doorway and waving you forward. You glare toward Mrs. Brown’s back and shake your head. No way, you mouth. 

Clark gives you a pleading look, frowning and motioning you forward again. You know that look, you’ve been on the receiving end of it for years now. He’s clearly not going to let go of whatever  he was badgering you about this morning. 

“Can I go to the bathroom?” You call out, not bothering raising your hand. The old bat’s half-blind, you doubt she’d see it anyway. 

She answers without even bothering to turn around and face you. “If you need to use the restroom, you do so before my class,” her shaky voice calls out with a huff. 

You roll your eyes and grab your bag, stuffing your books in it as she turns back to the board. There’s no point in arguing with her, she’s never going to give in. You wait until she drops her eraser. The second she bends over to grab it, you’re bolting toward the door. Clark grabs your arm, dragging you behind him.

He makes a break for the end of the hall, blowing past the geometry class he’s meant to be in. He busts through the school doors and leads you quickly through the courtyard. “Clark,” you hiss, trying to hold back a laugh at the stupid grin on his face. “What the hell is going on with you today?”

He glances over his shoulder at you, eyes alight with mischief, “Come on, you can’t tell me you actually want to listen to her rambling on about Shakespeare for an hour.”

You can’t argue with that, but he hasn’t done a jail bust for you in a while. Especially not during one of the few classes he shares with Lana. “No, I didn’t,” you pause as you realize he’s leading you to your car and not his truck. “Am I driving?”

“Truck didn’t start this morning,” he tells you shortly, not bothering with any further explanation. You swear you saw him drive in this morning but you could be wrong. It’s not like he’s the only kid driving his dad’s old busted truck in this town. “I’ll drive, though, you won’t know where we’re going.”

“Ominous,” you snark as he takes your hand in his, directing you toward the passenger door. Gentle hands push you up against the side of the car and he ducks down, leaning into your space. You crane your neck up, flushing slightly at the proximity. Any closer and you could kiss him. 

“Well?” He questions softly, lips curling up in a half-smile that makes you want to melt. You blink, forgetting what you were doing before you notice his outstretched, open, palm. Swallowing thickly you take your keys out of your bag and place them in his hand. “Thanks,” he ducks down, soft lips pressed against your cheek before rounding the front of the car. 

Your hand drifts toward your cheek, a bewildered smile on your face as you try and regulate your breathing. “What the hell?” You mutter, shaking your head slightly. Turning around, you open the car door and slip into the passenger seat. 

Clark greets you with a grin, scooping your hand up in his as he pulls out of the school parking lot. You don’t want to think about the trouble you’re going to be in tomorrow, all you can focus on is how good Clark’s hand feels in yours. 

“I’m really starting to feel like I’m getting kidnapped,” you joke, head tilting to look out the window. The golden fields stretch endlessly, rolling past in waves as the car gets further from town. Houses become scarce, replaced by sprawling farmland and grazing cattle. The further you go, the more isolated you feel. 

Clark chuckles, but there’s something off about the sound, a slight wheeze, a strain where there wasn’t before. His face crumples and he turns away from you, his knuckles turn white around the steering wheel from his tight grip. 

“Are you okay?” You reach instinctively toward him but he jerks his hand back. You gasp, jumping back when you catch a glimpse of his face. It ripples, the skin shifting unnaturally, as if something beneath it is struggling to break free. 

“Oh no,” Clark groans, voice strained. His entire body spasms and his hands slip from the wheel. The car lurches violently to the side, tires screeching against the pavement. Panic surges through you, hands bracing against the door as you shout his name. 

He curls into himself, muscles seizing, leaving the car veering out of control. The telephone pole ahead rushes toward you, growing larger by the second. You throw yourself forward, grasping at the wheel, desperately trying to steer, but Clark’s foot slams against the gas instead of the brake. 

Everything happens too fast. A blur flashes in front of the windshield. Then, a sudden stop. Your body flies forward, arms bracing against the dashboard as your head whips forward and back, pain rattling through your spine. 

You whine in discomfort, slowly sitting up and trying to take in your surroundings. The passenger door is ripped open. You flinch, recoiling instinctively and sending a shock of pain down your body. Your breath stutters as someone ducks their head inside, a startling familiar pair of blue eyes find yours.  

“Clark?” You whisper, gaze flicking to the seat beside you where Clark still sits, doubled over, his breathing ragged. 

The Clark outside the car reaches in and gently pulls you out. Warm, calloused hands skate carefully over your arms and shoulders. He cups the back of your neck, tilting your head up, thumbs gently smoothing over your jaw as he looks you over. 

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” His voice is soft, thick with concern. His eyes briefly leave yours to double check you for any injuries he might have missed. 

Your heart pounds. This isn’t possible. You must be concussed. You blink rapidly still struggling to wrap your head around the whole two Clark’s thing when the second one stumbles out of the car. 

He steps are uneven as he rounds the fender, his entire body shaking. Your rescuer moves swiftly, placing himself between you and the other Clark. He shields you, broad shoulders tense, protective to a fault. Must be the real one. Right? You rub your aching head and frown. 

“What were you going to do with her?” The one in front of you barks the question out, his voice sharp and edged with something dangerous.

“I just,” the other one keels over, cutting himself off with a pained groan and shaking his head. “Wanted to get away,” he grits out through clenched teeth, forcing himself straight again. 

“And you had to take her with you?”

“What’s going on?” You jut in, stepping back from both of them. Facing them, you see the same wounded expression reflected on both faces. Whichever is the fake, he’s certainly mastered the puppy dog look. 

Your rescuer tries to take a step forward but you throw your hand up, keeping them both at bay until you know what’s going on. He sighs and glances over at his shoulder at the other one.  “How long have you been able to do this?” 

It's like they start a conversation in the middle and you’re completely lost.  “Last year, I never saw a use for it and it was too much of a pain. But then I realized,” he looks at you, face contorting. “You would never go for a guy like me. You couldn’t. You were too wrapped up in him,” he spits the word out with venom, nodding toward the Clark you know has to be the real one. 

“You love him and that stupid all-American smile.” He chuckles, but it breaks off into a groan as he doubles over in pain, clutching his stomach. He drops to his knees and moans through clenched teeth, clutching at his face as he folds over. The longer black hair shrinks to a dull brown, broad shoulders slimming as the clothes he wears hang loose on him.

The illusion shatters, “Oh, God, Blake?” You gasp out, taking one step toward him. He shakes his head and you stop as Clark grabs your elbow. You glance up at him but he just shoots you a soft look that has you rooted to the spot. 

“I’ve been in love with you since freshman year,” Blake chuckles, still sounding like every word hurts. “If only I figured it out earlier, it’s always going to be him. I never had a chance, did I?” His gaze flickers toward Clark before he collapses to the pavement. 

You both go running toward Blake. Pressing your trembling fingers to his neck, you let out a sigh of relief when you feel his faint heartbeat. 

“We need to get him to a hospital, fast.” You lean back from Blake, looking around for Clark’s truck, confused when you don’t see it. “Dammit, Clark, where's the truck?”

He flushes, shaking his head, “I didn’t bring it.”

You frown, “What’re you talking about?” 

He glances toward Blake, the rise and fall of his chest steadily slowing. When he looks back at you his expression is unreadable, an intensity to it that you’ve never seen before. “I need you to trust me.”

“Always,” you tell him without missing a beat. He gives you a small smile but it lacks the usual warmth. 

“Close your eyes.”

“What?” You glare at him but he just shakes his head. 

“Please,” he looks close to begging and the pulse under your grip is getting weaker. Swallowing down your confusion you close your eyes. “Thank you,” he whispers, “I’ll be back.”

You frown, feeling a rough breeze blow back your hair as your eyes shoot open. But the spot in front of you is empty and the body under your hand has disappeared. Getting to your feet, you spin in one slow circle. There’s nothing out here except golden fields, your totaled car, and you. All alone. 

Clark eventually came back for you. His truck rolling into view after being on your own for half an hour. You hadn’t talked to him the whole ride back to town, too shocked by everything that had happened. 

He carried the conversation for the both of you, offering a brief explanation that only confused you more. Blake had apparently been one of the meteor freaks, somehow being exposed to it when it had left a crater in your town. 

But Clark didn’t tell you how he made it across the highway and to the hospital in under five minutes with no car. He didn’t tell you anything that actually mattered. So, you told him to drop you off at home and you haven’t seen him in a week. 

Chloe had called you once during your self-induced isolation, just to tell you that she’d driven by Blake’s house. Apparently the entire place looked like it had been cleaned out. No sign of him or his parents anywhere. You wish you could say you care, but you don’t. You’re almost grateful he’s gone. Not only did he reveal your long held secret infatuation to Clark, he’d clearly had ill intentions as he tried to take you out of town. 

Your Nokia nearly buzzes itself off your nightstand as you set your book to the side and look at the all-too familiar contact.

Clarkie

The stupid nickname you’d given him in middle school lights up the small screen and you let out a rough sigh, watching as it rings and rings before finally quieting. The screen goes dark before lighting up once more as his ringtone fills the silence of your room. He doesn’t give up easily, you have to give him that. 

You’re not entirely sure you’re ready to face him. Not now that he knows about your feelings for him. There’s no hiding what Blake so plainly laid out for him. You sink into the comforts of the pillows on your bed and wonder if you could just live here forever. 

Something knocks against your window and you ignore it as nothing more than a branch from the tree. It’s not much longer before it happens again and you rip your hands off your face and are forced to sit up. Your phone rings once more and there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that you know exactly who waits outside your window. 

“You can’t hide forever,” comes an annoying cheerful voice from outside. You force yourself off your bed and slink toward your window. Sure enough, Clark waits below it, a boyish grin poised on his face as he looks up at you. As much as you’re avoiding him, it’s plain cruel to just leave him outside. 

Reluctantly, you open your window and he’s quick to climb your tree. You back up as he slots his broad frame through and into your room. He lets out a short huff of breath and straightens up, giving you a sheepish smile. 

Taking a seat on your bed, you find it a tad difficult to look at him. Clark sucks in a deep breath and grabs your desk chair. He straddles it, resting on the back of it and staring at you until you feel like he’s going to burn holes into the side of your face. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

You hum and shrug, tucking a loose wave behind your ear. “I’ve been sick,” you lie, briefly looking up. The intense way he’s looking at you leaves you breathless and you have to take in a slow breath so your heart doesn’t kick up too much.  

“I want to tell you something.” Your head shoots up, concern lacing through you at the grave tone of his words. He looks away from you, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, actually, I want to ask you something first. Is, uh,” he chuckles a little and licks his lips, a nervous tick he’s never been able to kick. “Is all that stuff that Blake said true?”

Your stomach drops, burying your face in your hands, you let out a low groan. “Oh, god,” you suck in a sharp breath, unable to look at him as heat flushes through you. 

Lying is always an option. It’s a poor option, but it’s there. Maybe, if you just lied straight through your teeth he would drop it and leave you alone. But you’ve been hiding this for so long, tucked so tightly to your chest, it would be a relief to finally be unburdened of the truth. 

“Yes,” you whisper. You don’t want to look at him, don’t want to face the truth of his rejection. Clark has been your best friend since you could walk, losing him over this stupid crush would destroy you. 

The silence drags on for too long and you feel the anxiety calling its way around you. Warmth envelops your hands and calloused palms draw them away from your face. 

You peek one eye open to find Clark kneeling before you, a soft smile on his face. “You better not be laughing at me, Kent.”

A small chuckle slips through his lips and you slap at his shoulder. He catches your hand in his, lacing his fingers through yours. “I’m not, I promise. I wish you’d told me.”

“Why? So I could ruin our friendship faster?” You snark. 

“No, so I could do this,” he darts forward, soft lips capturing yours. You freeze up, eyes wide as his hand cups the back of your neck and pulls you closer. 

There’s a brief moment of shock where you’re completely frozen. But then you feel the way his thumb rubs soothing circles on the back of your hand. And you find yourself melting into the feeling of his embrace, eyes closing as you slowly open up to him. Your arms find their way around his neck, fingers burying themselves in the soft waves of his hair. 

The kiss itself is gentle, chaste almost. But it warms you from the inside out, makes you feel like you’re going to be nothing but a puddle of goo the longer he holds you. When he pulls back, he drags it out, lips lingering as long as they can. 

You’re slow to recover, eyes glazed over as you stare at him. He seems just as shocked, like he hadn’t expected to do that. Of course, you say the first thing that comes to mind instead of just shutting up and enjoying the moment. “What about Lana?” You blurt out, wincing the second it leaves your mouth. 

He frowns at you and shrugs, “What about her?”

“You’ve been blowing me off for months for her. We go to her shop every day just so you can stare at her. Don’t tell me you’ve suddenly discovered feelings for me. I won’t be your backup, Clark.”

He shakes his head vehemently, looking almost offended by the idea. “What? No. Of course you’re not,” he snaps, narrowing his eyes at you before sinking back on his heels with a huff. “Look, I wasn’t ditching you for her, I can explain all that,” he pauses and then quickly adds, “later.”

Your eyes narrow in suspicion and he reaches up, taking your hands in his. “There’s a lot I have to tell you. But the most important thing is that I am completely over Lana.”

“Really?” You question, tone harsh but bordering almost on teasing. “You look at all your friends like that?”

He shakes his head, “No,” he pauses, “just you,” he adds with a cheeky smirk. You roll your eyes and shake your head, looking away from him. “Whatever you thought you saw between us, it was only on her end. I swear, it’s been you for a long time.”  

You look away, but he’s not accepting that, tilting your chin to face him once more. “It’s always been you,” he murmurs, voice steady, certain.

Your breath hitches, heart stuttering in your chest. Maybe this is real. Maybe it’s been you that’s been the oblivious idiot. 

You take a deep breath, meeting his gaze head-on. “Then prove it.”

His smile is slow, confident, and this time when he leans in you don’t hesitate to meet him halfway.

end. — I do not own the characters or the TV Show Smallville, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © scribes-of-valar 2025. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.