#Dc one shot
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justanoasisimagines · 3 months ago
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Being in a relationship with Oswald
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Hey my lovelies, this man still has a vice on me and I'm not complianing. Anyway, my requests are open for everything except fics. You can find my request guidelines pinned to the top of top of the page! Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!
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❀Oswald is an old-school type of gentleman. He's going to spoil you rotten. He's going to buy you gifts. He's going to be the proudest man to have you on his arm. You're never going to have to open a door or pull out a chair again. Not while he's around.
❀Oswald loves to buy you clothes. He especially loves to see you wearing purple. His color. He loves seeing you in the dress he's brought for you or the pair of jeans that fit your body just right. Oswald doesn't hide it, he enjoys looking at you, you're his goddess.
❀Oswald is always giving you compliments. He wants to boost you up on the days you're not feeling yourself. Something he wishes people did for him, but he won't it happen to you.
❀Oswald is possessive. He doesn't like anyone touching or looking at you. He's quick to remind people that you belong to him as he does you. He has no problem getting rid of people if they invade that boundary.
❀Oswald has a jealousy issue. It comes from an insecurity, he doesn't believe he's good enough so therefore he's terrified of losing you. Oswald will react before he thinks about certain situations. Sometimes he can't see the innocence in situations before he reacts. He just doesn't want to lose you.
❀Oswald uses nicknames Doll, Sweetheart, Beautiful, Angel, etc.
❀Oswald wants you to know he can look after you, and provide for you. He doesn't want you to feel like you have to work to the bone. If you want to work that's fine and he'll support it but he doesn't want to make you. If you needed a job, he'd find one down at the club for you.
❀Oswald is going to bring flowers and chocolates for you at the start of every date. He's always dressed smartly and takes pride in his appearance. Especially when you're with him. He wants you to be proud to be on his arm.
❀It takes Oswald a while to feel comfortable enough to take off his shoes and socks in front of you. He knows the sight isn't pretty and he can't blame you if you're disgusted by it. He is.
❀Having to remind Oswald to rest. You've seen firsthand how much pain he's in with his foot. He comes to you sometimes in agony, proclaiming he's fine but you know he's not. Although he won't vocalize it, he's grateful and flattered you care. He never puts up a fuss when you tell him to sit down.
❀Oswald introducing you to his mother is a big deal. You two would be together for at least a year before he thinks about inviting you over to meet her. It's a huge milestone for Oswald, he loves his mother. She's the only family he has left, so he desperately wants her approval.
❀Oswald is prepared to kill for you. You bring out a desire to protect you amongst all else. He doesn't care who it is or why. If he needs to he will protect you at all costs.
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oneshots-heaven · 1 year ago
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THE MOTEL ROOM — "The Begin"
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Since the beginning, Dick Grayson and you were trained and put up as the perfect rivals. Two individuals with different perspectives who yet want the same out of life. Meeting each other over and over again, it is the same situation: one wins, the other loses—but it all ends in the same motel room. 
And it all began with the day you two met...
Warning: NSFW — explicit violence, cursing, mentions of injuries/killing in detail, mentioned co-dependence (mentor/mentee), bit angsty fluff Pre-Titans — Dick Grayson x Reader
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Your knee hit with force right in the groin of the men attacking you, kneeling him down in one swing. Fear widened the eyes of his partners, yet they stood their ground. As much as they wished to simply give in to their fear, they all had given their boss a vow that did not allow them to do so. Eyes glistening, you smiled grimly, recking your chin up as you signaled them to come right at you. 
No matter how much you made them shit their pants, they were still men with their full blown ego. Every second they showed their fear of a girl, it felt like poison to them and they hated it. 
A roaring sound filled the badly lit alley as the first men stepped forward, wielding his fists at you. Ducking it easily, you had already grabbed his arm, twisting it harshly. The others came at you, trying to help their poor fellow. While their hatred fueled their actions, yours were fueled by the euphoric sound of their pain, pushing the adrenaline in your body as it worked its will.
Two of them hang onto your arms, holding them back as tightly as they possibly could, to give the third one a free way to fight you off. What a brutal mistake they’d made. 
Just as they can close off to hurt you, you smashed your head hard enough against his nose. Crying out loud, he tumbled back, raising his arms to his bleeding nose. The only concern he could suddenly concentrate on. Using all the muscle strength you had in your core, you pulled the men down with you. Only difference was that unlike them, you rolled yourself gracefully over your shoulder, leaving them on the ground. 
They would struggle for a longer while. 
Leaving them behind in the alley, you started to run over to the old brick factory where all the chaos came from. Fucking hell, this hadn’t been how your mentor and you had pictured this entire situation to go down, but standing here and crying about it wouldn’t change it now either. As for now, the knowing that your mentor probably had the situation handled was the only relief. 
Running into the factory, you tried to catch up with her, but soon realized you ran into much more trouble than you had imagined. The small group of the Duke’s men outside now resembled a foreplay, while what happened in front of your eyes was the true battle ground, and it didn’t take long until you were noticed. 
“Looks like the cat has let out her kitten,“ one laughed, pulling all the attention to where his gaze was glued—you. 
The men came storming toward you, you only had the briefest of a moment to overlook the situation. Not enough to try and check how your mentor was doing. 
Drawing out your knives from your thigh halter, you greeted the fight with a vicious grin. Once there may had been a time where you had used to hold back, but you couldn’t remember any of it. Those days were long over and given by their blind reaction, they all underestimated you and they would be sorry for it. The first hit felt freeing, like a calling to a greater power. This was what you were born for, trained to master and dared to live. 
Their throaty groans and roars echoed in your ears as your knives struck into some of the weakest points of their bodies, their soft skin lushly craving in, standing no chance against your quick movements. Until they got ahead of themselves, one dared to grab after one of your knives, walking into open fire as it dived deep through his arm, blood splashing right in your face. 
Fuck this shit.
Fueled by every single of their groans, you struck over and over again, fighting your way through the newly formed group of opponents until all of your gymnastic and tactic skills weren’t enough anymore. You felt the cold metal resting against your skull. You didn’t even have to turn to know what it was, your gut told you. Putting down the bloody knives back in your halter, you breathed out just as a shot rang through the chaos of the old factory. 
Your entire body tightened in surprise, however, the plump sound of a body falling down to the ground was the testimony you were waiting for. Gulping, still struck by the sudden shock, you turned slowly to see that someone had perfectly hit the pulse artery of your opponent’s neck.
“Were you waiting for death?“ someone called out. 
A guy, not much taller than you, dressed in a dark costume with a cape draped over his shoulders and a black mask covering his eyes, came closer to you. You’d never seen him before.
“And who are you?“ you asked, instead of answering his question. 
His dark, brown hair was long enough to fall into his face, almost covering his eyes. Nevertheless, it didn’t seem to be a handicap as he appeared to be an excellent shooter. 
His equally dark gaze met yours, eyeing you seemingly from inch to inch. “Doesn’t matter, but looks like we fight for the same side.“ 
Much worse than the shot was the sudden astonishing sound of an explosion that shook the walls of the entire factory, filling it with fire, broken glass and rubble that spread everywhere. Within one swift movement, the stranger had swung his cape over your bodies shielding you both from the massive heat wave and shatter that rolled over you. Your ribcage was moving heavily against his firm one as you found yourself held securely in his arms.
“Don’t expect me to thank you for that.“ 
“I won’t.“ he assured you bitterly.
The stranger pulled back his cape, revealing the destruction that had just occurred. Your body trembled next to his, feeling his assuring warmth leaving you. Although fear had become a foreign feeling to you, it always found a way to creep back up on you. It had been long since you had last seen your mentor and this was going far out of control. You couldn’t trust the blindness of trust anymore—you had to make sure she was fine. 
Without another word to the stranger, you headed straight toward the destruction, knowing something or someone had caused it and that your mentor couldn’t be far from it. Gun shots, followed by unfamiliar yells came right from the direction of the towering rubble. The explosion had wrecked down almost an entire wall, flooding the factory with the construction lights from outside. 
Chaos was erupting wherever she looked, drowning any of her thoughts with the sounds of gun shots and cries. Swinging out of nowhere onto the facade scaffolding, your mentor came into your sight, followed by a darker, taller figure. One that she never officially introduced you to, yet always talked about—it was Batman. Indulging in the fight happening around them, they were fighting side by side.
“Guess you’re right. We do fight for the same side.“ you murmured, noticing how the stranger had caught up to you.
The calm before the storm lasted for the briefest of moments. Much like your mentor, the stranger suddenly whipped backwards out of nowhere, and within one bones-cracking movement, he had brought down a man, stomping brutally on his hand to force him to let go of the knife he wanted to attack you with. His yells drove deep through your bones, vexing you in the best way possible. 
Glancing from the man to the stranger, you had so much to say but no words came out. 
“Then you better show me what you’ve got.“ he challenged you, nodding to the incoming trouble rushing toward you. You heard his knuckles crack, balling his fists as you drew out your knives, ready to take on any fight if it meant to keep your and might as well his mentor’s back free. 
As the group of Duke’s misfits came closer to you, you immediately recognized their change of weaponry—for the worse, as they had exchanged the usual guns to the Duke’s specialized ones. 
“Don’t get hit,“ you warned, knowing the greater danger of the Duke’s bullets.  
“Wouldn’t dream of it, princess.“ 
Furiously you turned around, sending him a glare for that pet name. He was cocky, overall too confident to be this cool through a fight that could potentially end his life, and it frustrated you to the maximum. This wasn’t some sort of game, no matter how much he tried to turn it that way. Neither of you wouldn’t make it out without any hurt if you didn’t watch out. He, however, recked his chin up, as if he was daring death by any chance to come by. 
Combat was nothing compared to a gun, it would always defy the other, but you were quick—quicker than them with their guns. The stranger was too, he struck perfectly every single time, bringing down men after men. Shots rang from everywhere, spiraling around you and your opponents, trying your best to keep yourself away from the bullets. 
But no training could make every flaw of one vanish. A high-pitch voice cried out from a far, ringing in your ears, causing you to turn your attention away for the split of a moment. On the rooftop of the factory next door was your mentor with a dark shadow draped over her. Your heartbeat got stuck in your throat, causing you to gasp after air. He would keep her safe, or that was at least what you hoped for. 
A laughter, followed by someone calling out for you, pulled you harshly out of your trance. The shot rung so insanely close by you that you were able to feel the vibration. You tried catching your breath, it had almost scraped your skin. 
No material was able to withstand the Duke’s experimental bullets—they were perfect into its smallest detail and were as deadly as their description. As soon as they entered one’s skin barrier, the bullet would shatter into millions of small pieces, wounding one very little at first, before painfully killing them due to internal bleeding. 
You looked the horror straight in the eye as another shot rung, seeing exactly how the bullet hit the stranger through his suit in the lower abdomen. All color vanished from your face. Within seconds, he crunched in pain, unable to keep up the defense and becoming an easy target for your opponents, but not if he was with you. 
Picking up the blades that you had dropped, you picked up one by one before they’d come to the realization what you were doing. Pushing yourself up on your feet, you threw the first knife, striking straight into the neck of one, and then another. The anger, and mainly worry for the stranger, blinded and caused you to go riot. You had no idea if the bullet had hit him or not, if he was bleeding already, however you couldn’t get to him, not if there were still people attacking you around. 
The last one plunged forward, wrapping his arm around your neck, choking you with his hold. Grabbing onto his arm, you stabilized yourself from his sudden act but were quick to think, ramming your knife the next second in the soft part of his thigh, probably slashing a few veins in the process. His groans echoed in your ears, as you pressed your lips angrily together, ripping it out again, only to wind it down again and again until he let go of you. 
His cries of pain grew louder as you kneeled him in his groin, letting him sack onto his knees. His angered eyes were glued onto you. The only words that escaped his mouth were bad names, but you didn’t care, it would be his last ones. Your knife slashed his throat, ceasing away his voice, having the blood splashing right in your face as you dig your knife deep enough for him to never speak again. 
The voice of your mentor echoed through your head. Ever since the beginning, she had taught you that death was the last option, and although you could have punished that man without killing him, it was what he had deserved. 
Glancing over to the stranger, you instantly banished any further thought of regret out of your head, running over and crashing right down on your knees next to him. His breath whistled through his throat, his chest only heaved with struggle causing your hands to become shaky. He couldn’t die in front of you after just saving your life, this wouldn’t be fair. You took a closer look where the bullet hit, checking for the awful impact, as relief rushed over you. The Duke’s ultimate weapon may not be as unavoidable as he thinks. The bullet had struck deep into the hard shell of his suit, withholding the full impact of it. 
“Thank God,“ you breathed, meeting the stranger’s helpless gaze as you held onto him. 
The unsteady metal platform underneath you vibrated under the jolt as someone—might add elegantly—swung their way onto it. In-between the chaos of it all, your mentor came closer to you, noticing what had happened. Kneeling down on the opposite sided of the stranger, she leaned down, also inspected the wound with great fear. 
“He’s lucky,“ you told her, pointing at the bullet entrance. “The suit shell stopped the bullet, somehow. I can stabilize him and then we can go find the Duke.“ 
“No,“ your mentor interrupted you immediately, brushing the dark brown hair of the stranger out of his face, a motherly gesture, as if she knew him. A concerned, yet loving gaze hushed over her face as you watched her closely. “You need to bring him away from here, somewhere safe. Check on him and make sure he survives the night. I’ll come for you.“ 
As you processed her words, you shook your head. This had become the biggest mission for your mentor and you since the beginning of it all. You had hunted down the Duke for almost an entire year by now, only for all of this to turn out much bigger than either of you had expected. With almost experienced firsthand what the bullet could do, there was no way in hell you would let her do this without your help, even if she didn’t need it. You were trained for this, and for this only. You couldn’t let her do this on her own. 
Letting go of the stranger, you pushed yourself up and caught her wrist. “No, I’m coming with you.“ 
“We’ll handle this, trust me.“ she said, grabbing your hand, squeezing it tightly before letting go of you, ready to storm into the next fight. “Please, do me the favor and protect Robin.“ 
Jumping off the platform, she was quick to getaway, leaving you behind with the stranger. 
“No, I can’t,“ you yelled out, “Selina!“
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Your eyes had burned as your mentor had turned her back on you, and even though every fiber of your body argued to go after her, you did as you were told to. 
Unlike you, the stranger didn’t argue when you had draped his arms over your shoulders, helping him to get back up on his feet. His face had contorted in pain as he straightened himself. Without any second thought about it, you had reached out for his free hand to press it together with yours against the wound, because even though you didn’t know him, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. You had spent the entire past months analyzing every data and material about the Duke’s bullets you could get your hands on, knowing the brutal impact they caused all too well. 
As you had made your way carefully through the rubble of the factory, headed outside, a car came into your view. You didn’t care whose car it was, only having on your mind that you were in need of one to take the two of you somewhere safe, and you were glad that the stranger apparently didn’t care either. 
Gotham City’s streetlights flickered past you as you rushed through the late night traffic, driving out of the city, stopping somewhere in-between the highway and the next suburb at a familiar run down motel, where rarely anyone ever willingly stayed at. It was run by an old lady and her son, whom received anonymous checks with money once in a while for her unknown guests. It had served your mentor and you well many times, it was the perfect hideout when things got wrong as no one would ever question it. 
Given the dried blood all over your clothes and face, and the weapons strapped onto almost every limb of your body, you were more than thankful now to not go up and having to pay for a room. Instead you simply had done it as always—cracked the lock open and entered as if the place belonged to you. 
The blood hardened on your face, yet you could feel it cracking when you found yourself kneeled in front of the stranger, whom you had placed into the dusty, old wing chair. With great carefulness and even greater improvisation, you tried your utter best to take care of his wound, patting with a cloth soaked in cheap vodka from the minibar onto the wound. A sharp whimper left his mouth. 
“I’m sorry.“
“It’s fine,“ he falsely assured you through gritted teeth, looking down at you. 
Ignoring his lie, you shook your head as you continued to clean out the wound. It was far from being anything merely close to being fine, it was worse than you had thought. Although the hard shell of his suit had stopped the bullet’s full impact from entering his body, it had burned partly through the material, leaving a nasty, large burned scar on his lower torso. Unclothing him without hurting him at the same time seemed impossible, the suit material had burned slightly onto his skin. 
“I’m almost done,“ you told him, not knowing what else to talk about. You didn’t even know him, and the silent tension in the room was suffocating you. 
He didn’t say anything in return to, instead, he tried his best to suppress any noise of pain. Besides the small vodka bottle, you hadn’t found much to take care of his wound. It was pure luck that it was only a burned flesh wound, instead of an open one. Otherwise, you would’ve been fucked as there was nothing laying around to remotely sew it close. By ripping and shredding a towel with your knife, which went dull in the process of it, you had managed to makeshift a bandage for him. 
“Here, lean forward,“ you took the prepared bandage in your hand. 
Slowly he leaned forward, groaning in pain with every movement. As quickly as you were able to, you wrapped the towel remains around his torso, pulling it tight. It didn’t need to hold for long, it just needed to help him survive the night. 
“It’s not ideal, but it’s better than nothing,“ you sighed, reassuring yourself that the bandage was secure enough. Split seconds later, you held in, noticing your hands near his naked upper body, so close that you feel his warmth, his heartbeat racing, his breathing slowing down. In the next, you felt his eyes scrutinizing every inch of you, making you glance up to him to meet his eyes, only to catch him with parted lips. 
”Thank you,“ he breathed quietly in return. 
You gulped under the tension of his eyes watching you, letting go of his hips as you pushed yourself away from him until you could lean against the end of the bed. For the first time in this long night, you felt some sort of relief as you leaned your head back against the old mattress. Every part of your body felt tensed and sore, and while you tried your hardest to stay wake, you craved nothing more than to crawl into that dusty bed and get some rest. 
But you didn’t close your eyes. You couldn’t fall asleep, not until you saw her again and knew that nothing happened to her. Looking at the stranger, you were sure he felt the same way as he moved around unsettled in that chair, feeling miserable as he was unable to do anything due to the crushing pain that kept him sitting right there. 
“So, you’re Robin, huh? Batman’s little sidekick?“ 
A muffled chuckle escaped his mouth. “I’m far from being little.“
“You’re not even a head taller than me.“ 
He shrugged, regretting it immediately as another sharp whip of pain hit him. “So what, I’m still growing, unlike you probably.“ 
He wasn’t wrong about that. 
“You’re the Kitten everyone talks about.“ he said after you hadn’t said anything in return to him. 
You pressed your lips to a small smile. “That’s at least what everyone calls me.“ 
He pushed himself further down in the chair, letting out a breathy groan in response. “I already guessed that that wasn’t your real name.“ 
Meeting his dark gaze, you replied, “Well, I’ll take that Robin isn’t your real name either.“ 
“No, it’s Dick.“ 
“Dick? For real?“ you snorted, seeing the annoyance written all over his face as he rolled his eyes. “No, I get it. Short for Richard, right? I’m Y/N.“ 
He didn’t say anything in reply to that. You’d received nothing beyond a simple, barely recognizable nod. Not a false ’nice to meet you’, nor a silly comeback comment about your name. Instead, he and you fell into silence again, heads resting with eyes so heavy, drained from any energy and feeling so desperate for rest, yet neither of you dared to fall asleep. 
“You still have blood on your face.“ 
You felt it, how it dried down all over your face, cracking with every movement. Once your immediate reaction would have been to touch your face in astonished shock, now however, things were quite different. Instead, you sat there doing absolutely nothing about it. “I know,“ you replied quietly, “I don’t care.“ 
It was the truth, you didn’t a bit. It left you cold. 
“What do you care about?“ 
The tone of his voice clearly mocked you, although its tiredness, and it made you furious. Let alone looking at him suddenly made you regret that you had saved him as he was the reason you were stuck here. The reason why you weren’t with your mentor, fighting alongside her like you were supposed to. Now all you were left with his mockery tone and the bitter unknown of your mentor’s well-being. 
Batman may was with her, and God knows, what a skilled fighter he was, but that wasn’t enough for you. Your mentor and you had stood together for years now after she had taken you under her wing, no one knew her better than you did. You knew every move of hers, you knew when you were about to win, as well as when to give up a fight. No one could protect her as you could.
For months, you had watched the Duke and his following, trained and prepared to overthrow, only to end up being stuck with a stranger in a motel room.
“You know what I do care about?“ it left your mouth quicker, more harsher than you had intended. “I care about Selina. I care about the mission I had with her before Batman and you came along. We’ve had a plan, it would have all been fine if you hadn’t showed up, because now I’m stuck here, not knowing when or if she comes back, and that’s all your fault.“
“If I hadn’t shown up, they would’ve shot you right in the head.“
“So it be!“ you cried out.
He scoffed. “You can’t be serious.“
“Oh, I fucking am.“ 
All the pain seemed forgotten as he sat up straight, his eyes so sterling furious.
“Look, I understand exactly how you feel, but this was so much bigger than either of us had expected. We would’ve only been a burden for them, instead of help, and you would’ve been dead if I hadn’t been there to save you. As much as you have saved me with this.“ he argued, his voice cracking by the end, motioning to the bandage you had made. “I know this unknown sucks, but they will make it through. They’ve faced worse together already, have a little faith in them. She’ll come back for you.“ 
Hot tears shot in your eyes, as you loosened your balled fists. Facing away from him, you blinked them away, trying your utter best to keep yourself contained. You felt like a fool for reacting this intensely, especially in front of him. You’d noticed yourself a while ago how bad it had gotten, how much you depended on your relationship with Selina. She was the only family you had left and although she was far more experienced than you, letting her alone in a situation like this scared you. 
Your dependence made you vulnerable, and somehow you were glad that Dick didn’t use that as an advantage against you. Instead, he had said what you had needed to hear, almost as if he truly knew what it felt like to be this helpless and weak.
“Do you think this is what we’re supposed to do, what they’ve secretly wanted? Exchange our real names, befriend each other, because we’re both sidekicks?“ 
His mouth twitched upwards. “If you rather want me to call you kitten, I can do that.“ 
“No, I like it when—“ you murmured, suddenly regretting being so harsh to him. “Call me by my real name.“ 
“If you call me by mine.“ he said sincere, and for the briefest of moments, you held onto that. It was perhaps the closest thing to a friendship you’d experienced in years. 
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Part 2 coming soon.
Thank you for reading — I'm always happy about feedback.
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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 1 year ago
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Alternative Universe Father-In-Law
Word Count: 2,700
Summary: Bruce enters a portal by mistake, leading him to bring back someone from another universe for a nice breakfest.
Pairing: Bruce x female!reader
Notes: I enojyed the comic and the animated movie where thomas meets bruce and i had an idea to write for it. also give alfred some well desserved flowers in being a dad. #alfreddesreveshisflowers
Warnings: dad that has come back with the milk
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'I am telling you, Lois. Clark is stubborn, but he has a weak spot; mention the missing turkey of '08, and he will shut up and let you do whatever you want. "
'Wait! That really works?'
'Of course, it does. I have known Clark for 7 years, and I was the witness to that crime, so just mention it: he will fall back, trust me. Now I have to go. I am home.'
'Thanks, doll!'
'No worries, bye!'
Opening the big door, you enter with your phone nestled on top of your shoulder as you held the grocery bags. Stepping into the manor, you noticed the living room where Alfred was dusting behind the plasma screen.
'Mistress y/n. Welcome back.' The cheerful butler spoke as he walked to you, grabbing the grocery bags
'Thank you, Alfred. How was your day?' I asked him, striding next to him as we entered the spacious kitchen that held the marble island in the middle, placing the bags on top of it
'My day was good. The gardener came by and took care of the bush that Master Damian had 'shaped' with his swords yesterday. Although the poor man left with a terrible mind haze after finishing the Herculean task, managing to shape it back into a proper bush, and not some rhombus as Master Damian did.'
'Do remind me to tell Damian to leave the shrubs at peace. Maybe he can use those swords' skills to cut up meat when we have BBQs.'
'That seems like a great idea.'
The two hushed and resumed their conversation as Damian entered, his smile non-existent, his eyes scrunched into a tight-knit. You turn to him, saying with a slight chuckle
'Speak of the devil. What's up, Dami?'
The child walked between Alfred and you, crossing his arms and with a deep sigh, he articulated gradually
'Father has disappeared.'
You look at Alfred, knowing fully well that sometimes Bruce disappears to follow a clue, 'He will turn up by the end of the day. Bruce is like that, don't worry, sweetheart.'
'That is true, even before his vigilante lifestyle, Master Bruce was always the one to go with no notice but always turned up when his belly rumbled.'
With a giggle nestled in Alfred's sentence, Damian spoke again, shaking his head 'No. Father and I have been working on a portal and when I was grabbing a tool, he connected two wires, which opened a portal and pulled him in. By the time I came close, the portal closed.'
Looking at Alfred with a concerned look, you spoke what you two were thinking, 'And how come you two didn't tell us about that portal?'
Damian shook his head 'I-I have no clue, y/n.'
'Okay... and do you know where the portal leads to?'
'Between our world and other 456 parallel universes.'
fuck
Sighing deeply, you look at Damian 'So we have 1 in a 456 chance of finding him?'
'Yes. So are we going?' Damina asked, ready to jump into the adventure of the chance to jump from one universe to another
'No. We aren't. Damian, I can barely turn on the TV here without asking for help. And by no means will I manage to open a portal. We only have to wait and be next to the Bat computer to see if there are any anomalies. If an anomalie happens, I know someone who can help us.' I say, looking at the small assasin child
Damian looks up at you, his eyes asking questions, 'Who do you know, mother?'
'A friend, someone I knew way before you and Bruce. Even before I met Clark.'
You look at Alfred smiling 'He will show up, right Alfred?'
Alfred responds, faying his smile 'Of course, Misstress y/n.'
While the day dragged along in a snail-pace of time, you felt yourself doze off on the bat computer, a small trail of drool leaving a trail on the keyboard that was far too uncomfortable, but when you are fatigued, anything can be a pillow, and that stiff neck fo yours is a problem in the morning.
A shift in the air moved and circled, stirring you up from your slumber. Your eyes slowly open, adjusting to the luminous light that materialized in the Batcave, the wind pushing around the whirlpool of light as a tall, a dark shadow exited out. Staying up on numb legs, you felt the same pull you felt with Bruce, a warm safe space that drew you two always closer.
'Bruce?' you asked cautiously as you paused. The shadow you saw his features, the sharp hairstyle that was always in place, his tall and muscled build that was engraved in your mind. You knew that was him. Moving to him, you felt a wave of relief wash over you but another one followed, disappointment.
'Where were you?! We were worried sick about your stupid ass! How could you not tell me that you were making a goddamn portal in the house, Bruce!' you directed your words at him, the light of the rustled and shined over his taller-than-usual figure but nonetheless, you continued, 'And don't think for a fact you went to another universe that means I will get any sympathy from me. You are sleeping on the couch for the next 3 weeks.'
As the portal began to size down the light shimmered down you step back letting yourself catch a breath, sure you were mad but you were also glad that he was alive.
With the portal gone, the shadow started to dissipate bringing back the man you loved. You waited, a small smile on your face as you heard him speak a few shades deeper than what you know 'You were right. She is a firecracker.' Stepping back few more steps at the unfamiliar tone you watched a shape move behind him tall as him, same as him, did Bruce duplicate?
Leaning on the Bat computer, ready to press the button on the keyboard to call the remainder of the Bat Family you watched carefully as one moved closer to you, revealing... Bruce, your Bruce with a small smile.
'Sorry I was gone, dalrin.''
'Bruce, what is going on?'
'I met someone along the way.' Bruce steps for you to see the man that you talked to, with one confident step the man steps to you, his features coming to light, grey hair styled in a way that not even the wind could move one strand, his blue eyes decorated with wrinkles and his smile eerily identical to Bruce's looking at them side by side it struck you
'Love, this is my father, Thomas Wayne. In the universe I stumbled upon was a universe where my father was the Batman, and I was shot that night.'
Thomas smiled warmly at you, offering a hand to shake 'It is a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. L/n. Bruce has told me a great deal about you.' Shaking his strong hand, you think
What a great first impression. First, I thought he was Bruce and second I gave him an earful. What a great first impression.
'It is great to meet you, Dr. Wayne. I apologize for my actions beforehand, I thought you were Bruce and wel-'
'No worries about that. It is great to know that my son has someone who keeps him in check.' He spoke as you awkwardly laughed it off.
Bruce stood next to you, placing a hand on your waist 'Let's try this one more time. Father, this is Y/n, she is the love of my life, and the woman I wish to marry and spend the rest of my life.'
It's your time to be shocked yet again. You and Bruce never talked about it, only joking about being called Mrs.Wayne but he never communicated his desire to get married. Thomas glimpsed at the two of you, Bruce stood proudly with you while you tried your best to conceal your red cheeks and shocked eyes at his claims 'You better treat her right, son.' Thomas spoke
'He does, Dr. Wayne.'
You uttered, looking at the alternative universe father-in-law as Bruce examined your expression and in that moment, he felt himself fall in love yet again with you.
'How about we grab a bite? I am sure that Dr. Wayne would appreciate a good breakfast.'
Thomas nodded his head in agreement, beaming 'I'd love that, but y/n, no need for formalities. Call me Thomas. I haven't been a doctor in decades.'
'Sure. Thomas.'
Grabbing Bruce's hand you three exit the Batcave and head to the living room.
Strolling into the living room, you smelt Alfred's mouthwatering breakfast, scented the familiar maple syrup, and took notice of the sizzling bacon.
'I am bringing our guests.' You announced and Alfred cracked a smile as he watched you bring Bruce into the dining room where Damian was already seated. Alfred placed the lofty breakfast on the table. Pivoted to Bruce switching into scolding mode 'Now, young Master, I think we could have a great and lenghty chat about what goes in the Batcave.'
As Bruce stood behind you, Thomas' voice boomed into the ear of the butler 'I agree, Pennyworth. He surely needs that talk."
Alfred froze when he heard that voice. His eyes caught onto Thomas and he felt and thought that he was dead, joining the afterlife as there was no way that the deceased Thomas Wayne was standing before him.
'Master Wayne?' Alfred weaved quietly towards the man, and Thomas smiled 'Hello, old friend.'
He spoke, grabbing the longtime friend into a bone-crushing hug. Smiling at the interaction, Damian stood from his seat, walking towards his alternative universe grandfather 'So by my conclusion
you are my grandfather?'
Thomas stepped and crouched down to his eye level, smiling 'Yes, but I am. From another world.'
'I figured as much.'
Thomas looked at Damian and Bruce, his gaze shifting from one to another 'The resemblance is uncanny. He is your and y/n's copy.'
You felt yourself freeze as you interrupted him 'Thomas, he isn't mine. I--i mean he is my son but he didn't come from my stomach. Damian's mother is a leader of a group of assassins.'
Thomas stood up, watching his son 'You cheated, son?'
Bruce shook his head 'Father, no. Damian's mother and I met before me and y/n. Damian's mother was a --'
'She is a cold-hearted assassin who doesn't care about me or my well-being.' Damian cut in, saying what he considered his mother.
Thomas looks to the side, a bit shy about this situation, thanks Bruce.
Alfred coughs dryly, breaking the tension 'Let us all sit for a nice breakfast.'
Sitting next to Bruce you saw his smile, his true smile. The one reserved for you, comfort moments you both encountered and made, a smile that told you he felt at peace.
As everyone ate you desired to ask questions your father-in-law 'So Thomas, what do you think about Bruce being this world's Batman?'
Thomas looks at you a slight smile 'I always believed in the multiverse, and I alwats hoped that in one of them my son is alive and living his life. Being Batman, I suppose, is a part of the Wayne lineage, but what I mostly hold important in my heart is that my son is happy.' And he smiles bigger. 'And I can see that he truly is.’
Blushing at Thomas' words you looked at Bruce, your eyes twinkling with love while his blue irises showered you in silent praise 'I definitely am.'
Damian whispers to Thomas 'Thanks a lot. Now they will make-out in front of us.' Thomas laughs, whispering in the exact low tone 'That's good. It's better than to fight, besides, Martha adn I were the same. Always in love, never apart.'
Bruce turns to Damian saying slyly, 'You are aware that you are across the table, and not 40 meters away, Damian. We can still hear you.'
Damian rolls his eyes, playfully but nonetheless taking his grandfather's words to heart. It is definitely better for them to be in love and not fight. 'I have to feed Bat-Cow. Y/n, will you help me? I am too short to get the ball of hay.'
Smiling you stand up, leaving with Damian. Alfred, Thomas, and Bruce stayed at the table.
'Bat-Cow?' Thomas asked, perplexed, while his hands tingled
'No worries, Master Wayne. Thankfully, it is not a hybrid of a cow and bat; it is just a plain cow with an artistic name.' Alfred spoke
'Father, stay.' Bruce blurred out, declaring the thing he wished he would receive an optimistic answer to
'Bruce... I can't. If I stay long enough, my universe will disappear. Besides, if I did.... I don't want you to grieve all over again.'
'Believe me, Master Wayne...Master Bruce still grieves to this day.'
Thomas stands up from his seat, hugging his son 'I love you, Bruce. There is no need to grieve anymore. It won't change anything. You have no idea how much it brings me happiness to see you happy with Alfred, your son, and Y/n.’ Thomas didn't let Bruce stand up, not to see the small pixel-like specs encircling Thomas' legs. Alfred noticed the scene but stayed silent.
'When I see you looking at your son and Y/n I see myself and my life I had before that night. And it makes me so happy to see it. I know that it can be better. You make me proud every day, and will continue to do so."
The pixels reached Bruce's eyesight, standing up to look at hIs father, Bruce weakly said 'Stay...please.'
'It's not me to decide but I am happy I had a nice meal with your family.'
Kissing his forehead, Thomas dissipated back into his universe. Bruce looks at Alfred a small tears escaping his eye. The two men stand up, hugging each other, leaning on this moment. Bruce wanted to talk to his father more to make up for the lost and stolen time. It was time that he wanted nothing more than to be a son again. Alfred wanted to talk more to Thomas about Bruce. To tell him how he has matured, how he traveled the world and yet came back home, in Gotham, to make the city shine brighter than ever. To tell him how Bruce keeps an engagement ring for y/n ever since she moved into the manor but is not sure when to pop the question.
Both Bruce and Alfred wanted to tell him about their path of trying to grasp at straws to find justice in this forsaken town.
Pulling away from the hug Alfred spoke, 'As you can see, your father is proud at you. And I believe that goes for every Thomas Wayne in any alternative universe.'
Bruce looked at Alfred, nodding in confirmation 'I do believe that but I also am proud of the father that raised me as well. The one standing in front of me.'
Alfred's eyes twinkled in appreciation no words needed to be spoken at that response, there simply weren't those words that could how Alfred felt in this moment.
Steps echo closer and closer as you come back, with no sight of Thomas.
'Is he gone?' You ask, seeing Bruce walk to you, a smile on his face.
Bruce nods, hugging you, Feeling a bit sad at not being able to say goodbye to your father-in-law you ask Bruce 'How are you feeling?'
Pulling away Bruce chuckles 'Good. This moment made me realize some things. About my family.'
Bruce understood. The reason he went into that portal and brought his father here, it was a shifting moment for him, a moment to bring him in a more grateful state, he knew how lucky he was to have Alfred as his father figure, his son, and you, possibly his future fiancee.
That is until he pops the question.
Hope you enjoyed it!
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spidey-x-male-reader · 1 year ago
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PLEASE Batman Begins Scarecrow with a male reader, every fic for him is fem reader and I’m down bad for this man đŸ„Č🙏 how about some relationship hcs with a reader who’s the complete opposite of him, a big scaredy-cat?
Pairing: Jonathan Crane (Scarecrow) x male!reader
Summary: Headcanons - you're dating Jonathan Crane while being a big scaredy-cat
A/N: This was so relatable because I honestly love Jonathan Crane (and generally Cillian Murphy so much) and I'm so easily scared of so many different things man
REQUESTS ARE OPEN
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When you told him that you were a big scaredy cat he thought you were overdoing it
You weren’t
However he doesn’t judge you for anything, quite the opposite actually. He finds it endearing
He would judge you for none of your fears or things you’re afraid of
He understands that everyone has their fears, and he respects that. He takes a patient and gentle approach when encouraging you to confront your anxieties, without pushing you too hard or too fast
That man is a psychologist. He knows exactly how to properly handle things like that
He becomes even more protective of you, not just because he cares about you deeply but also because he recognizes your vulnerability
He’s always around when you need help whether it is encouragement or getting you out of a situation, he doesn‘t even hesitate
I feel like he’d consider trying to help you confront your fears with his fear toxin but then is like “yeah no let’s not do that”
So he helps you out the usual way
Even though he might seem scary at first (especially with the mask) he starts becoming a calming presence in your life
He would literally leave his work in a second if you called or texted that you needed help
Sure that man is a supervillain but you’re his soft spot
He’d really do anything to help you deal better with your fears and would be so proud of you when you managed to do something no matter how small it seems to be
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basicbatboys · 2 years ago
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hiii can u do #47 with dick??
Hiya! Thank you for your request!
47 was "You look so cute when you can't speak properly" and so here is a fic based on this idea!
You stood, open-mouthed, blubbering nonsense as Nightwing stood in the wreckage of the three goons who had been chasing you down an alley. You didn’t know what to think, except that your best friend was right and that he is more handsome in person. The shots from the newspaper had nothing on the guy standing in front of you. 
He sauntered towards you, flashing me his trademark smile and you don’t know if you were seeing things but you think he winked at you. He placed his hands on his hips and stared you down. 
“You okay?” He asked, his face flashing with concern when he saw the state you were in. He rushed toward you and reached out his hands. “Can I touch you?”
You shook your head, then nodded, then sputtered, “I’m fine! N-Now. Now, I’m fine.”
He grinned and shook his head, pulling out a grappling hook. “You’re cute when you don’t know how to speak properly. Stay out of trouble, alright?” With that, he shot his hook onto a roof and took off into the night. 
As you walked home, you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. It didn’t subside until you had locked your door and retreated into your bedroom for the night. 
___________
It had been three weeks since Nightwing saved you that brought you to where you are now. You’d seen him every night since then, he caught you while you were leaving work and the two of you got to talking.
“Are you some sort of stalker?” You asked him one night, laughing. 
“A stalker? No! I just take it as my personal mission to make sure pretty people make it home safe. Besides, the second time was an accident. It’s not my fault you work at the bar next to Bat Burger.” 
“Bat Burger? Really? I hear they spit in your food.”
“Well I hope they don’t stop because everything they
make is perfect just the way it is.”
You laughed and made a face. “Are you legally required to say that?”
He beamed. “I’m actually not legally required to say anything!”
___________
It had been one year since Nightwing saved you and that brought you to where you are now. You and he were having your usual midnight dinner of Bat Burger on the rooftop of the bank building. 
You stuck another fry in your mouth and laughed, smiling brightly. “You’re pretty cool, you know that?” You asked, looking over at him and then down at the street below you. Even in the middle of the night, the street was bustling with heavy traffic. People just like you were on their way home from work or out to get their own midnight dinners. 
“I don’t know how to take that.” He replied, scratching his head. “Is that a compliment?”
You nodded, sipping your soda. “Of course it is. Would I ever be mean to you?”
He shrugged. “Maybe, you might be someday.”
Suddenly, his comm buzzed and he stood and walked to the other side of the roof to take his call. When he returned, he looked distraught and distracted. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled. “I have to sneak out on our date. I’ll see you tomorrow okay?” With that, he was off, leaving you to wonder if you’d heard him correctly. Did he call this a date? Your heart fluttered with excitement. He did say that, didn’t he?
__________
It has been five years since Nightwing saved you and that brought you to where you are now. “Dick!” You yelled, slamming down a hand of Uno cards. “As in the derogatory term, not your name.” You said with a smirk. 
He laughed and rolled his eyes, shrugging. “Sorry sweetheart, I tried to warn you. I don’t lose at Uno.” 
You two were seated on the living room floor of the Wayne Manor. It was very new to you, all of this. It was only about a week ago that Nightwing had told you who he really was and invited you to his home to meet his family. You were still very unclear about what your relationship entailed because the two of you had known each other for a long time and the flirting was excessive but you could never make it official with someone who’s secret identity you didn’t know. Now that you knew who he was, you felt like there was opportunity for doors to open. Doors you definitely wanted to open. 
When you looked up, he had a goofy puppy look on his face and it made you laugh. “What are you looking at me like that for?” You asked. 
“I’m just happy, it’s such a relief to be honest and open with you. I’m so glad I got to tell you who I really am. I couldn’t take it anymore and Batman finally gave his blessing to let me let you in. You know, I really like you.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest and you stood up from the floor. “I really like you too.” You replied, clasping your hands together. “I’m glad you trust me.”
He stood too, walking toward you and putting his hands on your waist. You began to stutter, just like you did that first night. “I
 Uh
 What
?”
“Is this okay?” He asked, his hands moving to hover off of you. 
“Oh, yeah, of course, I’m just surprised is all.” You replied, stepping a little closer to him in a bold rush. 
“Surprised?” He countered, moving a hand to cup your cheek. 
You nodded. “Surprised.” 
He leaned down, your lips mere centimeters apart. “Well then I’m really about to shock you.” 
He closed the small gap and kissed you deeply and you felt unlike you’ve ever felt before in your life. Your body felt like it was on fire. Dick was the perfect man and here he was kissing you. 
He pulled away and gave you a small smile. “I’ve been wanting to do that forever.”
You felt so happy, so at peace, so
 alive. You hoped this feeling would never end.
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side-shawty · 5 months ago
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Hi everyone!
Me again! I know it’s been a reaaaaalllllyyy long time but I’ve had the very worst writing slump of my life. After over a year, I’ve decided to properly pick up my pen again. So if anyone still cares, my requests are OPEN and I’ll be working through the ones in my inbox.
Currently I’m writing for:
Marvel
DC (mostly bat family but I accept all others)
Supernatural (bc I’m rewatching)
LOVE YOU GUYS
-Duckie
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darlingdreamersworld · 2 years ago
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I'm obsessed OBSESSED with marriage of convenience, friends-to-lovers, Dick Grayson x reader.
A Simple Favor (Drabble)
Pairing: Dick Grayson as Nightwing x Reader (Drabble)
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It wasn't rare for the JLA members to sit in silence before a meeting while waiting for everyone to arrive. Such was the case today, as you waited for the other members to show up so Batman could begin his debriefing. It wasn't extremely urgent, which is why you assumed everyone was taking their sweet time.
You quietly reviewed your essay on your tablet while you waited, opting to get some work done and hopefully email it to your professor before the meeting began. If you were lucky, you could convince Barry or Batman to review it for you.
It was then that you remembered what you needed to ask.
"Hey, Nightwing?"
Dick Grayson was your best friend, had been since you both met back when he was Robin and you had just joined the Young Justice. You both had grown since then, he was now on his way to becoming detective and you were pursuing your own career.
So, who else to ask a teensy favor from?
"Are you seeing anyone right now?"
Everyone else's conversations stopped, immediately invested into where this conversation is going. It wasn't a secret that you both had perfect chemistry, and everyone was waiting to see just when you crazy kids would get together.
He raised a brow, "That's so random."
"Are you?"
"No. Why? Do you need me to pretend to be your boyfriend again because your mom won't get off your back?"
You ignored his question, "Do you snore? Grind your teeth? Sleeptalk? Kick?"
He narrowed his eyes at you, "I don't think so."
You spared a glance at Conner, who looked mildly surprised and very interested in where this conversation was going. He nodded, to confirm what he said and you nodded to yourself, making up your mind.
"Do you want to get married?"
Dick laughed, recalling that time when he was 12 and he accidently said that he was going to marry you someday, "Sure, but why the sudden interest in marriage?"
"My professor is subletting this penthouse and the rent is insanely cheap since he bought the place out. Only thing is that he isn't letting single college students apply for obvious reasons so if I get married, I have a better chance."
Everyone gaped at you. You were proposing to Dick, for an apartment?
"You know I'm rich right? I can buy you an apartment if you want."
You shook your head, "I don't want to feel like I owe you."
"And me getting married to you won't be owing you?"
You blushed lightly, "I mean you can always say no. I could ask someone else, I just asked you first because you said you wanted to marry me someday back when we were kids."
"That was a joke!"
You shrugged, turning back to your paper. Dick spared a glance at his father, standing at the head of the table and if he hadn't grown up with him, he wouldn't know that underneath that stoic expression, Bruce Wayne was truly baffled at your relationship.
Dick chuckled lightly, "Okay sure, but only because I live alone and I can't cook."
There was a beat of silence.
"WHAT!?"
Forever Taglist:
@simonsbluee
@hanbedumbaf
@superheroesaremyjam113263
@writers-whirlwind
DC Taglist:
@emmacata
@p--e--a--c--h--e--s
@sometimeseverythingsucks
@sokkas-honour
@unstable1902
@lostgirlheart
@missdisapear
@tadpole-san
@isawachickeninatree
@uxavity
@battlenix
@capricorn-stark
@evermoore580
@dumbbitchgalore
@fuckingjinkies
@some-lovely-day
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olailamajnoon · 30 days ago
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Dick on the phone, at 3 pm in the afternoon: Forgive me father for I have sinned.
Bruce, just woken up, squinting at the alarm clock: Dick it's 3 pm. what is this.
Dick, tearfully: My confession! I couldn't sleep, Bruce. I was the one who drove my hamster to suicide! I didn't feed him malt cookies like I was supposed to! He climbed on the exercise wheel and didn't stop running until he died.
Dick: *continues sobbing*
Bruce: okay so first of all.
Bruce: I'm not a priest.
Bruce: And second of all. Animals don't commit suicide.
Dick: Mari did!
Bruce: You named your male hamster after your mother...?
Dick: NOT THE POINT, BRUCE!
Dick: but yes.
Bruce, sighing: There's so much to unpack here I don't know where to start.
Dick: I killed him, Bruce. I should have died along with him!
Bruce:...
Bruce: It's possible that you've associated your hamster's death with the trauma of your parents' death, possibly because of shared names, and you've displaced your survivor's guilt from the first onto the second.
Dick:...
Dick: So what should I do.
Bruce: In my experience, the best way to deal with survivor's guilt is to save as many people as you can, possibly people in the same situation as the loved ones you have lost, hoping that the heroic nature of your deeds lets you sleep at night.
Dick: And what if that doesn't work?
Bruce: Then you drink. Get shitfaced drunk every time you feel a pang. Or you can pray to a nonexistent god and an uncaring universe.
Dick:...
Dick: If I come over, will you break out the good whiskey.
Bruce: I thought you'd never ask.
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cowboybeepboop · 3 months ago
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Kiss the chef 
 "Oh God...keep doing that..." 
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Pairing: Clark Kent x fem! Reader
Genre: Smut
Word count: 5.7k
Summary: Clark is your best friend, who you suspect of being Superman. 
a/n: Guys I’ve been like obsessed with writing but I have zero time 😔 it’s torture and I’m also running out of ideas for the names of each oneshot they’re getting crazy 😭 Also yes, I’m aware I shift perspectives a lot, thats a stylistic choice 👍
Clark hums softly as he moves around the kitchen area, his hands working diligently as he prepares dinner for the two of you. 
He glances over his shoulder, his eyes catching a sight of you lounging on the couch, completely engrossed in your phone, a smile forms on his lips as a gasp escapes yours.
"Almost done in here," he says, his voice laced with a hint of contentment. "You find anything interesting on there?"
He turns his attention back to the meal, stirring something in a pan on the stove while sneaking glances your way, curious to know what's capturing your focus.
“Actually, yes.” You reply, hopping up and joining him in the kitchen. “There’s new photos of Superman that were just released.” You gushed, he knows about your crush on the hero, yet doesn't know that you’re imagining him as Superman.
Clark quirks an eyebrow, a slight amused smile on his face as he pretends to be surprised at the news. 
"Really?" he says, feigning intrigue, not that he would need to fake it. "New photos, huh?"
He watches you from the corner of his eye as you join him in the kitchen, the mention of Superman stirring something within him.
You lean against the counter, your eyes locked on the screen. “Mm, it smells good.” you murmur, setting your phone down and looking at the food he’s prepared, your mouth nearly watering at the sight.
"Thanks." Clark replies, a proud smile spreading across his face as he watches you eye the dish with appreciation. He glances in the direction of the screen, seeing a glimpse of the photos of Superman before returning his focus to you.
"Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells." He teases, scooping up a spoonful of the food from the pan and offering it for you to taste.
You eagerly open your mouth, holding onto his wrist as you taste the flavor, you let out a satisfied noise. “It’s really good, like really good.”
Clark can't help but chuckle at the sound you make while tasting the food, his heart fluttering slightly at the way you hold onto his wrist. 
"I'm glad you like it." He says, a hint of pride in his voice. "I put a little extra love into it just for you."
He scoops up some more food and offers it again, watching your reaction intently.
You step closer, taking the spoon into your mouth again, enjoying the way he’s feeding you small bites. “I should hire you as my private chef.” You sigh, licking your lips as you look at the pot.
"Careful, I might take you up on that offer." Clark replies, his eyes following the movement of your tongue as it licks your lips. 
He sets the spoon down, then leans against the counter next to you, his arm casually resting next to yours. "Just imagine me cooking for you every night." He muses, a hint of playfulness in his voice.
“Sounds like heaven to me.” You grin at him, reaching for your phone as the screen lights up.
"Heaven, huh?" Clark muses, he glances at the lit-up screen, the photo of Superman once again catching his eye. He clears his throat, trying to keep his composure. "So, uh, what's so special about these new photos anyway?"
“You can see all of his muscles..” you murmur, eyes fixated on the photos. “I mean they’re such high quality, just look.” You show him the screen, your cheeks flushed a slight pink.
Clark swallows the words and the photos you show him causing a stirring within him. He struggles to keep his expression neutral as his eyes flick between the screen and you.
"Yeah, they're really uh, really high quality." He clears his throat, his eyes lingering on the image, specifically the muscles you mentioned. "You really like this guy, don't you?"
You nod, turning your phone off and slipping it into your back pocket. “I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to meet him..” you shiver at the thought.
Clark's heart flutters at your words, a mix of guilt and amusement playing within him. He can't help but wonder what your reaction would be if you knew the truth.
"Meet him, huh?" He remarks, his voice low and a touch hesitant. "What would you even do if you ever met him?"
“I can think of a couple things,” you reply suggestively, wiggling your eyebrows for further effect.
Clark blushes slightly at your suggestive reply, a mix of flustered surprise and amusement on his face. He glances away for a moment, trying to regain his composure. 
"A couple things, huh?" he says, a hint of playfulness in his voice. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but I doubt the Man of Steel has time for...whatever it is you're thinking."
“Every man has time for..” you grin, “What I’m thinking of.” Clark's blush deepens at your response, his heart skipping a beat. 
He scratches the back of his head, trying to remain cool and collected, though he can't entirely hide the effect your words have on him.
"Uh, yeah, well," he stammers, a bit of nervous energy in his voice. "I'm sure the Man of Steel has much bigger priorities than...meeting fans and fulfilling...fantasies."
“Maybe.. Or maybe he has all the time for his eager fangirls.” You pull your hair into a ponytail, slyly exposing your nape to him as you notice how flustered he's becoming.
A wave of heat washes over Clark as you expose your nape to him, and he struggles to keep his composure. His eyes linger on the exposed skin for a moment, his thoughts swirling with a mixture of desire and restraint.
"Eager fangirls, huh?" he teases, trying to maintain his cool demeanor. "You certainly seem eager enough."
You giggle, watching as he turns off the stove. “I do, don’t I?”
Clark tries to ignore the way your giggle sends a shiver down his spine, turning his attention back to the stove instead. He swallows hard, desperately trying to keep his mind from wandering.
"You certainly do," he replies, his voice slightly strained. "And I have a feeling you're pretty relentless too."
“You know it.” Your grin grows as he plates the food, grabbing both in his hands as he leads you back to the living room. Clark balances the plates as he moves, he places them on the coffee table, trying to focus on the task at hand and not the way your grin makes his heart race.
"Should we watch something? A movie perhaps?” he clears his throat as he changes the topic.
“Mm.. yeah, you pick what we watch.” You settle on the floor in front of the couch, your back pressing against his knee.
Clark can't help but savor the feeling of your back against his knee, a mix of contentment and desire swirling within him. He grabs the remote, flipping through possible options but not really paying attention, his mind too preoccupied with the proximity of you and your intoxicating scent.
"How about, uh..." He struggles to think of a suitable movie as he glances down at you, his heart rate increasing. "How about that one?" he points to a movie at random.
“Sounds good.” You agree, focused on the food in front of you.
Clark tries to focus on the movie as it plays, but his attention is constantly drawn to you, the way you sit, the way you eat, the way your scent fills the air. Every little detail seems to distract him.
As the movie progresses, he finds himself inching closer to you, his knee pressing more firmly against your back. He tries to act nonchalant, hoping you don't notice his increasing closeness.
As you finish your food, you lean back against his leg further, playing on your phone. “You know, I’ve been thinking..”
Clark stiffens slightly as you lean back further against his leg, the feeling sending a thrill through him. He tries to remain nonchalant as he responds.
"Thinking? About what?" He glances down at you, his eyes flicking to your phone before meeting the back of your head again.
“You’re a reporter.” You begin, turning to look at him. “If you ever met Superman, would you tell him about me? Put in a good word..” you’re hoping that prompting him might reveal his secret.
A pang of guilt hits Clark at your question, but he forces a smile, trying to maintain composure. He knows the truth, that he *is* Superman, but hearing you talk about him like that, asking him to put in a good word...it's both endearing and painful. 
"I...uh, yeah, sure." he says, his voice a bit strained. "If I ever met him...I'd definitely mention you."
“You’re such a good friend.” You smile, turning your attention back toward the tv though your mind is obscured with disappointment.
As you turn your focus back to the TV, Clark lets out a shaky exhale, the words "good friend" stinging a little more than he expected. He remains silent for a moment, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts.
He glances down at you, the mixture of guilt and affection swirling inside him. He can't help but wonder what would happen if you ever found out the truth.
You reach for your wine glass, taking a small drink of the crimson liquid. Clark watches as you take a sip, the way your lips touch the glass making his heart skip a beat. He clenches his fists, fighting the urge to reach out and touch your face, your hair, anything.
"You, uh, like the wine?" he asks, trying to keep his mind from wandering.
“It’s actually really good, I usually hate wine.” You reply, “Where did you get it?”
Clark watches you take another sip, a hint of surprise on his face at your admission. He glances over at the half-empty bottle on the coffee table.
"Oh, it's from a small vineyard in Italy.” he answers, trying to keep his voice casual. "A friend gave it to me, said it was a special blend. I’ve been saving it for a special occasion, actually.”
His eyes linger on you once more, the sight of you drinking the wine stirring something within him.
“Then why did you waste it?” Your eyebrows furrow as you turn to look at him, confusion painted on your face.
Clark’s heart flutters slightly at your question, a mix of surprise and affection coursing through him. He tries to maintain his composure as he speaks.
“W-waste it?” he repeats, his voice slightly hoarse. “I don’t think sharing it with a...a friend is a waste.” His eyes meet yours, a hint of uncertainty in his gaze as he wonders if you can see through his facade.
“But it’s not particularly a *special* occasion, is it?” You cock your head to the side, shifting your body to face him.
Clark swallows, feeling your gaze on him as you turn to face him fully. He can see the curiosity in your eyes, the subtle hint in your question.
“I...I suppose not.” he admits, his voice soft. “Not in the traditional sense, anyway.” He studies your face, his heart racing as he wonders if you suspect something.
You narrow your eyes at him, scanning his features. “Clark..”
Clark feels a hint of alarm as you narrow your eyes, your gaze intense as you seem to be studying him. He can sense your suspicion, and it makes his heart race even faster.
“Y-yes?” he replies, his voice slightly shaky. He tries to keep his expression neutral, but he can’t quite hide the nervousness that’s beginning to show.
“You look..” you lean closer, eyes glued to his every movement. “You really do look a lot like him.” biting down on your lip as you rest your hands on his knees. 
Clark’s heart stutters at your words, his breath catching in his throat. He tries desperately to maintain eye contact, but he can feel his resolve slipping away under your intense gaze.
“Like who?” he stutters, knowing full well you’re talking about Superman.
“You know who,” you roll your eyes at his response, leaning closer to peel his glasses off his face, your fingers brush over his cheekbones. Warmth pools in your stomach as you consider the consequences of pushing him any further. 
Clark's eyes widen as you reach for his glasses, he swallows hard, feeling a mix of panic and anticipation. He knows he should stop you, but he can't bring himself to move as you draw closer.
You fold them up and set them on the coffee table behind you. “You’re really handsome.” You murmur under your breath as you gaze up at him from your position on the floor, hands itching to touch his skin once again.
Clark's breath hitches at your compliment, his heart fluttering as he takes in your words and your proximity. He can feel the heat rushing to his cheeks as you look up at him, the mix of nervousness and desire swirling within him like a tempest.
He can't help but respond, his voice barely above a whisper. "You..you think so?" He reaches out, catching a strand of your hair between his fingers, twirling it around his forefinger. 
“Of course.” You smile, leaning your elbows on his knees. “Clark, we don’t have any secrets between us do we?” your breath seems to get caught in your throat, dropping hints isn’t working anymore, you’ll have to be more direct with him. 
Clark tries desperately to push down the panic that rises in his chest at your question. He knows he should say something, anything, but the words get stuck in his throat.
His gaze flicks around the room, trying to find anything other than your eyes to focus on, but it's no use. He can feel your expectation, the way you're searching for the truth. He glances down at you again, the sight of you leaning on his knees making his heart flutter,
"N-no," he stutters, his voice strained. "No secrets."
You can tell he’s not being truthful, your expression faltering. “You’re lying.”
Clark swallows hard, the wave of guilt that washes over him nearly overwhelming. He can see the disappointment in your face, the way your expression falters, and it guts him.
He can't keep lying to you, not like this. He looks away, unable to meet your gaze, his voice small.
"I...I am." he admits, his voice barely above a whisper.
“What is it you’re hiding?” You murmur, eyes locked on his beautiful blue ones.
Clark can feel his facade collapsing with each passing second. His heart pounds in his chest as he looks back at you, your gaze intense and searching. He can almost feel the truth on the tip of his tongue, threatening to burst out.
“You can tell me anything.. Clark, we’re friends.” You move to sit next to him on the couch.
Clark takes a deep breath as you move closer, sitting next to him on the couch. The feeling of your proximity, the warmth of your body next to him, it's both a comfort and a source of anxiety.
He gazes at you, his eyes betraying the mixture of emotions raging inside him. He wants to tell you, to share this secret, but he's also terrified of how you'll react when you find out you’ve been crushing on him. You place your palm on his leg, offering some comfort.
Clark feels your hand on his leg, the touch sending a wave of warmth through him, calming his nerves slightly, but not enough to quiet his worries.
"I..." he begins, his heart pounding in his chest. "I don't know how to say this, but..." He takes another deep breath, his voice soft, low, and filled with trepidation. "I'm Superman."
“I knew it!” You gasp, eyes widened as you straighten up next to him.
Clark's eyes widen at your exclamation, the suddenness and volume of your voice taking him aback. He hadn't expected such an immediate reaction, let alone you to believe him so readily. He watches as you straighten up next to him, a mix of surprise and relief washing over him. 
"Y-you did?" he stutters, his heart still racing.
“I mean of course, I’ve had my suspicions. Every time I speak of Superman it makes you turn pink.” You tease him lightly.
Clark feels his cheeks flush with color at your statement, the truth of your words hitting him hard. He blushes even more red as a result, the heat in his face growing in intensity.
He glances at you, a mix of embarrassment and relief in his expression. "I, uh, I didn't think it was that obvious," he mutters, his voice sheepish.
“Only because I know you so well.” You grin proudly. “But, I have another question for you.”
Clark can't help but feel a pang of affection as you grin at him, your confidence and familiarity with him making his heart flutter. He nods, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Ask me anything," he says, his voice slightly more relaxed now that the secret is out.
“Does the man of steel really not have time for one of his fans?” You bite down on your lip.
Clark's heart stutters at your words, the change in your tone sending a wave of desire through him. He can feel his own heart rate spike as you bite down on your lip, your eyes filled with a mixture of teasing and want.
He sucks in a breath, his voice slightly hoarse as he manages a response.
"The man of steel has plenty of time for his...biggest fan."
“Biggest fan hm?” You question, sliding onto his lap and straddling his hips.
Clark's breath catches in his throat as you slide onto his lap, your body settling on top of him. He swallows hard, his heart racing as he looks up at you, your face so close to his he can almost taste your breath.
He places his hands tentatively on your hips, his fingers gently gripping the fabric of your clothes as he responds, his voice thick with desire. "The biggest. And the most beautiful."
“Clark..” you lean down, nose brushing against his. “Can I kiss you?”
Clark can feel your breath on his skin as you lean down, your nose brushing against his. His heart hammers in his chest, the sound of your voice sending a wave of anticipation through him. He gazes up at you, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and adoration. 
"Please," he whispers, his voice barely above a breath. "Please...kiss me."
You cup his face, fingers dancing over his skin as you connect your lips softly.
Clark's eyes flutter shut as you cup his face, your fingers tracing gentle paths on his skin. The softness of your touch ignites a fire within him, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that's both gentle and passionate.
He lets out a soft moan, his hands moving from your hips to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer against him.
The kiss quickly turns hungry, your lips part to let his tongue in. Your body is pressed flush against him, hands tangling in his hair as you tug on the roots gently.
Clark's tongue explores your mouth with a hunger that takes him by surprise. He tightens his hold on your waist, pulling you closer against him, his body reacting to every move you make.
He lets out a low moan as you tug on his hair, the feeling sending a wave of pleasure through him. He responds by biting your lip gently, his hands slowly caressing the skin of your back.
You pull away for a breath, Clark's chest heaves as you pull away, his eyes opening slowly to take in the sight of you. Your lips, swollen and glistening from the kiss, make his heart stutter, the need to kiss you again almost overpowering.
He gazes at you in awe for a moment, his breathing ragged, before speaking, his voice slightly hoarse.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he whispers, his hands still holding you close.
“I think I have some idea,” You tease, glancing down at the tent growing in his slacks. “I can feel it, you know.”
Clark follows your gaze, his heart skipping a beat as he sees the effect your presence has on him. He swallows hard, his eyes darting back up to meet yours, a mixture of embarrassment and desire playing across his face.
He responds, his voice low, his fingers gently caressing your hip.
"That's...that's all your fault," he says, his words laced with a hint of accusation and appreciation.
“My fault?” Your hand begins to trail down his chest. “Then I guess I should take responsibility, take care of it.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss his neck.
Clark's breath hitches as your hand trails down his chest, his heart rate quickening in anticipation. Your touch is fire on his skin, igniting every nerve.
He groans softly as you lean forward to kiss his neck, his head tilting to give you better access. Your words and the feeling of your lips on his skin send a wave of desire through him, his body reacting to your touch.
"Responsibility, huh?" he manages to reply, his voice strained. "I like the sound of that."
“I can finally do what I’ve been dreaming of doing to you..” you whisper into his ear, your hand finally making contact with his erection.
Clark's breath hitches at your words, the sound of your voice in his ear sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel the heat of your body as you lean in closer, your hand finally making contact with his hardness.
He lets out a low moan, his body responding to your touch with an intensity he's never felt before. "Oh fuck..." He looks at you with hooded eyes, his voice thick with need. 
You reach for his shirt, pulling it off of him. “Holy shit, Clark.” Your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you stare.
Clark feels a wave of heat as you pull his shirt off, the air cool against his skin. He watches as your eyes widen at the sight of his muscles, the look of desire in your eyes making his heart race.
He knows how strong he is, how powerful his body is. But hearing your reaction, seeing the effect he has on you, it's something else entirely.
"You like what you see?" he asks, a hint of teasing in his voice, his muscles flexing under your gaze.
You lean forward, kissing his chest. “You have no idea.” You mutter, fingers trailing over each muscle as your other hand continues to massage his clothed hardness.
Clark's breath catches in his throat, his body reacting to your touch, your kisses on his chest sending waves of pleasure through him. He can't help but arch into your touch, his muscles responding to your caress.
He lets out a low moan, his voice strained as he speaks, "Oh God...keep doing that..." He's lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, his eyes half-lidded as he gazes at you.
Clark's breath catches in his throat as your kisses move lower and lower down his stomach, each touch sending a wave of pleasure through him. He gasps as your tongue teases over his abs, his eyes watching your every move.
His hands grip the edge of the couch as you work on his belt, his desire for you growing with each second. He lifts his hips slightly to help you remove his pants, the feeling of your hands on him almost too much to bear.
Once his pants and boxers are removed, he's left naked in front of you, sitting on the couch with his legs spread apart. He gazes at you, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.
He's completely under your spell, his entire being focused on you and only you. "Come here." He reaches for you, his voice soft and needy. 
You bring your lips to his once again, the kiss passionate and hungry. Clark responds to your passionate kiss with a fervor of his own, pulling you closer against his body, his hands roaming over your back, your hips, everywhere he can reach. He's lost in the kiss, in the feeling of your body against his.
He can't get enough of you, his need for you growing with every passing second. He moans softly into your mouth, his body reacting to your touch, his hard length pressed against your thigh.
You reach to grasp his erection, his thick cock barely fitting in your grasp. You begin to move your hand, slowly jerking him off as the kiss becomes more intense.
You pull away from his lips to catch your breath, your eyes hooded in desire. “You’re huge..”
Clark's breath catches at your words, the praise sending a shiver down his spine. He can feel your hand on him, stroking him slowly, the feeling overwhelming yet perfect.
“It’s perfect.. you’re perfect.” You slip off of his lap, settling between his muscular thighs.
Clark's heart flutters at your words, affection washing over him. He watches you move down between his thighs, his breath catching in his throat at the sight of you so close to his cock. He reaches down, gently running his fingers through your hair, his voice soft but filled with need.
"I could say the same about you," he says, his eyes meeting yours, his body alive with anticipation. "You're...you're incredible."
You lean in closer, wrapping your soft lips around the head of his cock, your eyes fluttering shut as you taste the salty sweetness of his precum. The room is filled with the sounds of your gentle slurps and Clark's moans of pleasure. 
Your hand grips the base firmly, stroking in sync with your mouth as you take more and more of him in, inch by glorious inch. You feel him swell in your grip, the veins pulsing with his excitement. 
You moan around him, the vibration sending shockwaves through his body. His hand tightens in your hair, guiding your pace as your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the sensitive spot beneath the head. 
You look up at him through hooded eyes, watching his reaction as you deepthroat him, his face a mask of pure ecstasy. The intimacy of the moment is intoxicating, both of you lost in the sensual dance of your mouth and his cock, the tension building as the pleasure crescendos.
With every bob of your head, Clark's moans become louder, his eyes never leaving yours. The connection between you is palpable, the intimacy of the moment amplifying every sensation. 
His cock grows in your mouth, the taste of him driving you wild. You savor the feeling of his hands tangled in your hair, guiding you, the power of his grip speaking to your desire. His eyes, filled with lust and admiration, bore into yours, creating a silent conversation of pleasure that needs no words. 
Your tongue laps at his shaft, tracing the veins that stand out against his skin, your mouth creating a warm, wet heaven around his length. Each stroke, each suck, each flick of your tongue is a declaration of your adoration, a silent promise to bring him to the brink of ecstasy and back again. 
The room feels like it's spinning around you, the air thick with passion as you both give into the carnality of the act. Your cheeks hollow with the effort of taking him so deep, but it's a challenge you eagerly accept, the thrill of his pleasure reflected in every whimper that passes your lips.
You continue to worship him with your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. The way his hips buck slightly with each deep throat, the way his abs tighten as he holds back, it's all driving you crazy. The sound of his breath hitching and his fingers tightening in your hair sends a thrill through you, making your pussy throb with need. 
You moan around him, the vibrations echoing along his length, and he can't help but thrust a little deeper into your welcoming heat. The taste of him, the feel of him, it's all you can focus on as you give him the blowjob of his life, eager to show him just how much he means to you, to show him the depth of your desire. 
You feel the tension in his body building, the way his thighs tense around you, and you know he's close. The air in the room crackles with energy, the heat from both your bodies blending into an intoxicating cloud of lust. 
You don't stop, you can't stop, you want him to remember this moment, to feel the intensity of your passion every time he thinks of you. 
You continue to devour him with your mouth, your eyes locked onto his, which are filled with a mix of disbelief and pure bliss. The connection between you is electric, your every movement a silent testament to the desire that's been simmering beneath the surface. 
Each time your lips meet the base of his cock, you can feel his thighs tense against your cheeks, and the soft groan that escapes from his lips sends shivers down your spine. You're both drowning in the intensity of the moment, your hearts pounding in time with the rhythm of your mouth and his hips. 
You can feel him swelling even more, and the knowledge that you're the one bringing him to this peak sends a thrill through you. You suck harder, faster, each motion a silent plea for him to let go. And when he does, with a final, desperate thrust into your throat, the salty warmth of his release fills your mouth, and you swallow eagerly, relishing the proof of his pleasure. 
You pull back slowly, licking your lips, watching as he comes down from the high with a sigh of satisfaction. The air is thick with the scent of sex and love, and it's all you can do to not climb onto him and feel him deep inside you, to complete this perfect moment.
Clark pulls you to him, his lip moving to your neck as he gently slides his hand under your skirt. The fabric whispers against your skin as he reaches for the waistband of your panties, his touch sending shockwaves through your body. His fingertips graze over the soft fabric before he hooks it with his thumbs, pulling them down slowly. 
His eyes never leave yours, filled with love and a desperate need to feel all of you. As the last of your barriers fall away, his erection pressed against your bare thigh, hot and demanding. His hands caress your skin as if it were the most precious thing in the world, his kisses trailing down to your collarbone, each one a promise of the passion to come. 
The air is charged with anticipation, your hearts beating in sync as you both give in to the intensity of your desires. He lifts you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around your waist, holding you tight as if he never wants to let you go. You can feel the head of his cock nudging at your wet entrance, begging for more, but he takes his time, kissing you deeply and savoring the moment. 
His hands cup your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples in time with the rhythm of your kisses, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you. The room is a whirlwind of passion and love as you both succumb to the depth of your feelings, the promise of ultimate intimacy just a breath away.
Clark's hands hold your hips as he guides you down onto his cock, the thickness of him stretching you open as you moan with pleasure. He's gentle, so gentle, as he makes love to you, each thrust coming slow and steady, as if he's savoring every moment. His thumb finds your clit, pressing down in a firm but tender rhythm that sends electric jolts through your body. 
You lean back, gripping onto the couch cushions as he fills you completely, the sensation of his warmth and size overwhelming your senses. His eyes never leave yours, the connection between you growing stronger with each shared breath. Each stroke of his thumb sends you spiraling closer to the edge, and your moans become more desperate, your body begging for release. 
His own breathing becomes more ragged, his eyes dark with desire as he watches you come apart in his arms. The room seems to fade away, leaving only the two of you, lost in the perfect harmony of love and passion.
Clark’s eyes bore into you as he carefully guides his cock inside you, his movements tender and deliberate. The way you straddle him, the way your pussy clenches around him, it’s like nothing he’s ever felt before. His thumb continues its delicate dance on your clit, his touch a masterpiece of passion. 
Your eyes are glazed with lust, your breath coming in short, needy gasps as he takes you higher and higher. Each stroke is a declaration of his love, a promise of the intensity to come. Your moans become louder, your body moving with his in a rhythm that feels like it's been written in the stars. 
His thumb presses harder, his hips moving faster, and you feel the first tremors of your orgasm beginning to build. The tension in the room is palpable, each touch a spark that ignites the bonfire of desire within you both. You lean into him, your breasts brushing against his chest, your body craving the closeness that only he can provide. 
The sound of your skin slapping against his fills the air, a testament to the love you share. You're both lost in the moment, in the symphony of your bodies, and the crescendo is just within reach. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you get closer, your breathing shallow and erratic. 
And when the climax hits, it's like a supernova, explosive and all-consuming, leaving you both gasping for air. He whispers sweet nothings into your ear, his voice a balm to your soul as the waves of pleasure wash over you.
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achluos · 3 months ago
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babs study
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justanoasisimagines · 4 months ago
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First Impressions.
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Summary; Bruce is distracted when he meets you at a Gala Pairing; Bruce Wayne x Female Reader WordCount; 552 Credit to cafekitsune for the banner and the divider!
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Bruce navigated the room with practiced ease. He slipped into the room with precision. Bruce knew exactly what to say, and who to say it to. Bruce knew the attendees who he needed to work harder to obtain what he wanted.
Events like this Bruce often remained focused during a Gala such as these. Albeit, he often found himself bored. It was all about keeping up appearances.
However, Bruce was distracted tonight. A long flowing black gown glided across the floor. Eyes met momentarily as Bruce allowed a subtle smile to grace his lips. A mirror image as you brought a champagne flute to your crimson-painted lips.
Bruce didn't care for any other guests tonight. Except you. He wanted to make your acquaintance. Suddenly, Bruce was no longer engaged in the current conversation. He nodded his head, providing short answers. Desperate to end the conversation to make his introductions.
Bruce allowed the conversation five more minutes before he made his excuses. He took two champagne flutes from the waiter passing by.
You were alone, taking a breather from the constant barrage of questions and fake pleasantries. Unlike many you were attending because you cared about helping under privileged children. Unlike those who were heard to spread and hear gossip.
"You look like you could use this" Your eyes glanced up to be met with the hose for the evening. Blue eyes met yours. "Thank you, this place looks beautiful." You examined the room taking in the sight. His team had done an amazing job. Except Bruce couldn't admire he view because he couldn't take his eyes off of you. You were breathtaking.
"I can't take the credit. I have an excellent team. They're the ones who made it possible." "Well then you have a great team, Mr. Wayne, you should be proud." "Thank you and please call me Bruce." Bruce angled himself towards you, interested in taking in every minuscule detail about you. That was only the beginning for Bruce, he wanted to know you inside and out. Bruce's nerves were on edge. He'd never been so compelled before. Never by another person. "So what brings you here tonight?" "I work alongside the charity. You're doing excellent work you have no idea how much of an impact the donations will have getting kids off the streets, giving them a chance at life." Bruce admired the way you spoke, The passion in your voice, the way your animated hands reiterated that. "I'm always willing to help any way I can. Gotham's youth are going to bring change. It's something I'm passionate about Bruce observed your smile widen. "I wish others here tonight held your sentiment. Most are here for the publicity and the idle gossip. Tonight's more about flaunting their wealth. They will not give a second thought to the children tonight." "Perhaps we could arrange dinner? Talk about the ways I could help. I'd love to get more involved. "Thank you, I don't know what to say." "Say yes. Let me take you out. Somewhere more intimate and less pretentious. We can talk about everything and make a plan. Bruce gave you a moment, hoping this could provide the opportunity to get to know you and create a different change rather than fighting Gotham's underbelly. "Sure I'll go to dinner with you."
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sleepingdiaryzzz · 2 months ago
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Yandere batfamily x neglected reader
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The manor is cold, silent as a tomb, and for once, it feels like a fitting home. You lie still on the bed, too small and fragile in the heavy, towering room. They all gather around you, each staring in shock, faces pale, breaths shallow—as if hoping that, by holding their breath, they might somehow trade their own life to coax warmth back into your cold form.
Bruce’s hand hovers over you, hesitant. His calloused fingers, so accustomed to war and violence, seem clumsy when they brush against your cheek. He trembles, silent, fighting against the whirlwind in his chest, his stoic mask cracked beyond repair. “I promised to keep you safe,” he whispers, his voice breaking in a way none of them have ever heard before. “I promised
 and I failed you.” His hand, heavy with the weight of every failure, drops to his side, useless.
Dick’s hands cover his mouth, choking on a sob that won’t stay hidden. He’s the eldest, the one who was supposed to know better, to set the example. But he looks at you now, his eyes red and raw, remembering each time he walked past you, too busy laughing with others to notice you slipping away. “Why didn’t I tell you
?” he whispers, agony etched across his face. “Why didn’t I show you that you were loved?” The words fall into the silence, lost, and he knows you’ll never hear them now.
Jason kneels beside the bed, clutching your lifeless hand in his, as if he can pull you back with sheer force. His shoulders shake, his body radiating rage, despair, regret. His lips tremble as he remembers the countless times he shrugged off your gaze, ignored the quiet plea in your eyes. He thought he was sparing you from his darkness, protecting you from the world. But now he sees it for what it was—neglect, cold and unkind. He bows his head, the unbreakable Red Hood shattered, silent tears falling onto your still fingers.
Tim stands back, his face white, hands trembling as he presses his fists to his sides. The detective, the genius, who noticed everything—except you. He let the days slip by, assuming there’d always be more time, that you’d understand he was busy, preoccupied with saving the world. But now, as he watches the life drained from you, he feels a pang in his chest sharp enough to cut through bone. “I should’ve been there,” he whispers, voice barely audible. “I should’ve been a brother to you
” He stares at you, eyes rimmed with despair, the guilt hollowing him out from within.
Damian’s usual steel has melted into something unrecognizable. He doesn’t know how to touch you, where to place his hands, and the hesitation makes him feel powerless in a way he’s never known. He’d prided himself on being stronger, colder, above such weakness—but now, faced with your absence, he finds himself wishing he’d let you in, softened just a little. “You
 you weren’t supposed to
” He can’t even finish, his words broken. He reaches out, almost unwilling, to touch your hand, flinching when it’s cold. His lips press into a thin line as he tries to hold back tears, but they fall, betraying the ache he’d been too proud to acknowledge.
They stay by your side, each of them reliving every lost opportunity, every moment they could have held you close and didn’t. Days pass, blurred, and they linger in the same room, surrounded by memories of what should have been.
When Alfred brings them food, they push it away. They can’t bear the thought of comfort while you lie there, untouched by life. They whisper to you, sometimes out loud, promising things they can’t ever deliver: "We'll make it up to you
we’ll fix this." But no voice answers back.
Driven by desperation, Bruce turns to ancient books, rumors, magic, anything that offers a hint of hope. He works night after night, chasing the impossible. The others follow him, each digging into their own corners of madness, driven by the need to correct what they destroyed. But every ritual fails, every lead falls cold. And the bitter truth gnaws deeper: there is no cure for regret, no resurrection from guilt.
The night finally falls silent, and they’re left alone with you, as if the universe itself mourns. Each of them curls beside you, their heads on the bed, hands on your arm, your hand, your chest, wherever they can cling to you, trying to pretend for one last moment that you’re still there. They hold on, eyes shut, whispering prayers to a god who’s deaf to their pain.
When morning breaks, none of them rise. They stay beside you, unwilling to face a world that doesn’t have you in it. They’ve lost you, their last chance to be the family they should have been, and they know now they’ll never be whole.
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(A/n: no one asked and I also didn't but INSPIRED BY DIS IDEA FROM @steor-ra ILY BESTFRIEND BUT PLEASE UPDATE đŸ’œđŸ‘©â€â€ïžâ€đŸ’‹â€đŸ‘©)
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imagines-to-quench-thirst · 2 years ago
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Leave Me
Part 3 of Leaving Me Behind
Requested: can you please make a part three of Leaving her because of his father I am literally crying for them for Orm and Reader
Genre: angst (heartbreak), clashing conversation between father and son
(For Orm’s father I had to google his name. It said that his name was Orvax. Not sure if it’s correct but đŸ€·đŸŒâ€â™€ïž)
Enjoy!
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Orm began to dive into the water; he felt a tug in his heart, a strong pull, making his brain calculate how to get back to the shore. He continued swimming. He felt the way of unhappiness as he swam against the moving currents and wave strokes. 
His heartbreak was nothing he could describe or even perceive with words. A feeling he knew was going to last.
Y/n was standing there, crying, pleading to the sky, the sea, and the land for him to return. Her hands shoveled and held the sand as if she was holding a lifeline and was trying to pull him back into her arms where she felt safe and protected. 
But now gone, descending deeper into the water, he felt his eyes gaze upon his kingdom, Atlantis. He meant to rule and guard, although it wasn't something he wanted to be anymore, his heart holding back, and yet his lineage, his bloodline, called him back, and now he doesn't want to go. 
The father's wrath was felt at the castle's entrance, and the defining silence was the only positive presence between the father and son.
'What are you doing?!' His father roared from the throne, 
'I was in love; I love someone. Someone loves me.' the young prince admitted with a broken, delicate tone trying to get a better sense of everything.
'You don't love! A ruler, a future king, doesn't have sentiments. He has his mastership and education to stand behind and not something nonsensical and breakable like love...' he spoke with disgust polluting each word. 
'Are you going to go on an identical path like your mother?!' His father banged his fisted hand on the throne handles, the brute force shaking the throne, the wrathful aftershock slithering around and towards Orm, bringing him to his knees, his face pulled down. The sheer bubbling anger Orm felt, he suppressed it, knowing how wrathful his father was, still feeling the snaps and punches on his body from years prior.
Orvax swam down to his son's level, witnessing his son, a future ruler usually full of dignity, brilliance, and regal venom dripping from his mouth and now spending a couple of months with a surface dweller transforming him. Orvax presumed Orm was just having enjoyment; he did not expect his son to come disfigured as a... disgrace.
Orvax touched his son's shoulder, feeling the quick pull back from Orm, Orm's eyes shooting up in pure fear and shock. Orm never saw his father so close. His father wasn't that type of person, the type of person he was...
'Since you are back, I do hope you won't be going back up. Unless you intend to rain upon waves of hurt to...surface dwellers.'
With the intentional pause on the last two words, Orm saw a mischief gleam in his father's eyes, a gleam he also had, a gleam of revenge.
After all, he was this type of person, vengeful and spiteful.
Orm felt his weight shift back from his feet and entirely on the floor. His future he didn't know he deserved with Y/n, was now gone completely. Replaced by ruling the kingdom, only having a feeling of fear of his father. His thoughts ran with the memories he made with Y/n locking them in the safest place, so nothing could tarnish them, not even his father and his cruel ways. Orm looks up at his blood and asks, knowing very well the answer. 
'So I don't even deserve to be happy, father?'
His father began to walk away as he answered, 'No.'
Y/n looked at the waves still crashing and moving, the scenery shades with a dark blue sky, the full moon, and starts being the only bright thing in Y/n view. Her eyes, red and swollen from crying, were fixed onto the waves, her ears picking up the soft footsteps near her.
'Y/n.' a soft tone spoke, the tone she had heard numerous times. 
'Arthur, what should I do? I thought that he was happy.'
Arthur takes a small letter handing it to her, offering a missing piece of the puzzle.
'Unfortunately, it is power beyond our measures.'
Opening the letter Y/n, she gazed upon the rich handwriting.
'Dearest,
I love you. I do not wish to think this is our last communication, but it is. I hope to Gods that it is not. You gave me something no one ever did: to live happily. To enjoy. And my heart breaks over the thought of you crying, wasting your tears on someone like me. Therefore, I will continue to live as a future ruler, and you should continue your life without me. I will always cherish our moments in my cold heart.
-Orm.'                  
Y/n glimpses at Arthur and speaks, 'What should I do, Art?'
'Take one day at a time. Let's get you into the house.'
Standing up after hours of sitting, Y/n ambled back home, turning around, trying to see one last time if Orm was there, waiting for her. 
There wasn't much on the sea, only rocks and waves and a heartbroken king looking from the far distance, his love walking away.
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spidey-x-male-reader · 2 years ago
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DC (Comics) Masterlist
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Roy Harper / Arsenal
You and Roy have to go on a fake date for a mission. It ends up being a bust but you two still have fun.
You're aggresively texting your boyfriend when you realize that there's a very scary spider in your living room
Jason Todd / Red Hood
It's full moon and Jason is there to comfort you (werewolf reader)
To be continued...
Click here to find my Blog Guide and Masterlists for other fandoms
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basicbatboys · 2 years ago
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🌙 Hi! I see a lot of Jason Todd x reader fics where the reader is really confident and sexy and badass, but I was wondering if you could write something where the reader is very shy. I’m really socially anxious and awkward and sometimes I’m really quiet or I pause and stutter or say words in the wrong order when I’m nervous. I’d love to see a reader like that â˜ș
Howdy sunshine! What a lovely request! I am so glad you opened my eyes to diversifying the types of readers I write for so you can look forward to more of this stuff in the future (: I hope you enjoy it! I'm sorry for how long it took me to get back to you!
________
“Is it good?” Jason asked as you took your first sip of coffee. 
You nodded, tipping the cup back and allowing the hot goodness to slip into your mouth. As you did, you realized it was way too hot and you drank it way too soon after you got it. You swallowed thickly and a grimace spread across your face. You stuck out your tongue with a plech and fanned at it. 
Jason tilted his head back and laughed. “Too hot? Why did you say it was good before you tried it?”
You shrugged and returned your tongue to it’s rightful place. “I don’t know.” 
He smiled and ruffled your hair. “You’re too sweet.” 
You smiled shyly and looked down at the ground. You never really knew what to do when Jason complimented you. You were too awkward to ever say anything back but it didn’t seem to ever bother him and for some reason that bothered you.
“Come on.” He said, taking your free hand. “Let’s go home.”
You nodded and clasped your hand around his.
___
The two of you entered the apartment, your coffee still in hand. You hadn’t taken a sip since the “incident” and you weren’t sure if you ever would. But you would feel so bad not drinking it since he had paid for it, you didn’t want to waste his money. You got in your own head, staring blankly at the cup before Jason pulled you out of the rabbit hole you’d been digging. 
“Baby? You okay?” He asked, looking at you with concern. 
“Uh, yeah.” You muttered. “I just, well, I was just thinking. That’s all. I’m sorry.”
“What were you thinking about?” He asked, stepping toward you. 
“It’s stupid, it doesn’t matter.” You replied, playing with the rim of your cup. 
Jason smiled and closed the gap between the two of you. “It’s not stupid if you’re the one thinking it. You’re the smartest person I know.”
You frowned and looked up at him. “Why do you always do that?” You asked, your tone accusing.
“Do what?” Now he was frowning too. 
“Reassure me. Compliment me. I’m so weird and bumbling and you’re so cool. I... I don’t even understand why you like me. It feels fake." A tear dripped from your eye as the honesty came pouring. You couldn't look at him. "I’m just waiting for you to tell me you were joking the whole time and you never even liked me in the first place.” Tears pricked at your eyes as you spoke, your eyes trained downward. You stumbled over your words, unable to speak clearly and directly. “I just
 I feel
 I
 I don’t know.”
Jason wrapped a hand around your cup and took it from you, setting it on the countertop. He used two fingers to pull your gaze toward his. 
“Look at me.” He said, his voice low and soothing. “I mean everything I say to you. You are everything to me. I don’t care if you’re awkward or different, it’s why I like you. You’re a good person, even if you can’t always articulate your thoughts. You’re beautiful, even if you don’t believe me when I say it. I would never lie to you. I would never say something I didn’t mean. You are my world. I like you just the way you are. I can be myself around you. We all make mistakes, we all slip up. I like how authentic you are. You’re never pretending to be someone you’re not. You’re perfectly imperfectly you and that’s why I love you.” He dropped his hand and placed it on your waist.
Your eyes widened. “W-What?” You asked, searching his eyes for any sense that he was lying. 
You couldn’t find any. 
“I love you.” He repeated. He pressed his lips against yours and when he pulled away he was smiling. “Just the way you are.”
You bit your lip and looked away, and in a moment of rare confidence, you looked him right in the eye. 
“I love you too, Jason.”
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aphrmoosun · 7 months ago
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