#kryptonian!reader

[invincibledc]

Kinda random but how would Suoerboy!Reader react to seeing TT!Red X? There's some theories that the first Red X was Robin and I'm thinking up the dynamic of a Superboy!Reader just... instantly knowing that's his boyf because he has X-Ray vision.

||SUPERBOY!READER REACTING TO ROBIN BEING RED X||

Okay so honestly, YES THE FIRST RED X WAS ROBIN. Was shown in the show ands everything!! But someone took the suit and people was having theories that it was Jason Todd like how beast boy was having those theories—

BUT LETS CALM IT DOWN.

Superboy!reader is legit stopping mid fight of his friends being bodied by Robin in that suit because he all knows how to stop them.

But Robin can’t even get the balls to harm his super boyfriend with kryptonite that he has stashed in his compartment of his suit.

You tried to grab him, you really did but he slipped through your fingers real quick!

“Who is this guy?” You muttered, using your x ray vision to only see that it’s your beloved boyfriend.

The reaction is pure shock as you try and catch him off guard.

But what’s the point with one moment when Robin tries to act like he appeared late the battle, you dragged him faraway and demanded an answer.

Even after he told you, you just had a frown on your face after all this.

This is Robin we’re talking about here. 2003 teen titans robin who sometimes doesn’t listen to people if it was about his wellbeing.

But the reaction out of all is just pure shock, but betrayal shockness, but pure shock and a little bit of heart dropping.

[raikagez]

Until Death Do Us Part (And Not Even Then) - Lois Lane x Kryptonian!Reader

summary: When Doomsday comes to Metropolis, Lois faces the unthinkable—watching the person she loves die in her arms. But death has never stopped Lois Lane from getting what she wants, and she'll be damned if it's going to stop her from saving Y/N Kent.

warnings: Graphic descriptions of violence, temporary character death, medical trauma, Angst with Happy Ending, Near Death Experience.

notes: Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Gender Neutral reader, We're literally Superman, Mr. Terrific comes in clutch yet again.

Thank you anon for an amazing request! I loved writing this and I hope you enjoy it too. If you guys have any requests shoot me a dm. Happy reading!

word count - 5.6k

-------------

The first thing Lois noticed wasn't the screaming.

It wasn't the way Metropolis General Hospital's emergency broadcast cut through her Tuesday morning coffee, or how Jimmy's face went white as he turned up the newsroom's television. It wasn't even the way Perry's voice cracked when he shouted for every available reporter to get downtown immediately.

No, the first thing Lois noticed was the sudden absence of warmth against her back where Y/N had been reading over her shoulder just moments before.

She turned to find empty space and an open window, Y/N's coffee mug still steaming on her desk next to their abandoned crossword puzzle. Seven across: What lovers promise each other. Y/N had written forever in their careful handwriting.

"Lois!" Perry's voice cut through her paralysis. "Lane! Get down there now!"

But she was already moving, grabbing her press badge and recorder, muscle memory carrying her toward the stairwell while her mind tried to process what the reporter on TV was saying: "...creature of unknown origin... downtown destruction... Superman engaged..."

The elevator couldn't move fast enough. By the time Lois reached street level, she could hear it-the sound of a city under siege. Concrete cracking like thunder. Car alarms wailing like funeral dirges. And underneath it all, a roar that seemed to come from the earth itself.

She commandeered the first taxi she saw, throwing a hundred dollar bill at the driver and demanding he get as close to the destruction as possible. The man took one look at her press badge and her expression and hit the gas.

"Lady, you sure about this?" he asked as they rounded a corner and saw the devastation ahead. "That thing's been throwing cars around like footballs."

That thing. Lois got her first real look at Doomsday through the taxi's windshield and felt something cold settle in her stomach. It was massive, eight feet of gray skin and bone spikes, moving with a violence that seemed almost joyful. She'd seen Y/N face down Brainiac, Lex Luthor, even Darkseid, but this was different. This creature didn't want to conquer or control.

It just wanted to destroy.

And somewhere in that chaos of rubble and screaming civilians, Y/N was fighting it alone.

"Stop here," Lois said, already reaching for the door handle.

"Ma'am, I really don't think—"

"Stop the car."

She was out before he'd fully braked, running toward the sound of battle in heels that weren't designed for sprinting over debris. Behind her, she could hear the taxi's tires screech as the driver fled in the opposite direction.

Smart man.

The scene that greeted her when she rounded the corner onto Fifth Avenue would haunt her for the rest of her life. Half the street had been reduced to rubble, storefronts collapsed, a city bus folded in half like origami. And in the center of it all, two figures locked in combat that looked less like a fight and more like a natural disaster.

Y/N moved with all the grace and power Lois had come to associate with Superman, but she could see the strain in their movements. They'd been fighting for twenty minutes—an eternity in superhero time-and Doomsday showed no signs of slowing down. If anything, the creature seemed to be getting stronger, adapting to Y/N's attacks with each exchange.

Lois pulled out her phone and dialed Michael Holt's number. Mr. Terrific answered on the first ring, his voice tight with concern.

"Lois? Please tell me you're not where I think you are."

"I need your ship," she said without preamble, ducking behind an overturned car as a chunk of concrete sailed over her head. "The invisible one. How fast can you get it here?"

"Why would you...? Lois, no. Whatever you're thinking, no."

"Michael." Her voice was sharp enough to cut glass. "How fast?"

A pause. In the background, she could hear him already moving, could practically see him running calculations in his head. "Eight minutes if I break several FAA regulations. Lois, what are you planning?"

"Something stupid," she admitted, watching Y/N take a hit that sent them crashing through a storefront window. They emerged seconds later, blood on their lip, uniform torn. "But maybe stupid enough to work."

"The Fortress?"

Trust Michael Holt to figure it out immediately. "The Fortress," she confirmed.

"Lois, even if we could get Superman there, the healing matrix might not—"

"It will work." She said it with the kind of absolute certainty that had gotten her through every impossible story, every closed door, every source who'd sworn they'd never talk. "It has to work."

"Six minutes," Michael said, and she could hear the whine of T-Sphere engines spinning up in the background. "Try not to die before I get there."

The line went dead. Lois pocketed her phone and moved closer to the fight, staying low, using the scattered debris as cover. She needed to be ready. Whatever happened next, she needed to be close enough to—

The sound Y/N made when Doomsday's fist connected with their chest wasn't quite human. It was the sound of breaking, of something vital giving way. They hit the side of a building hard enough to leave a crater in the brick, then slumped to the ground and didn't immediately get up.

Lois was moving before she'd consciously decided to, her body acting on pure instinct. She scrambled over chunks of concrete and twisted metal, ignoring the cuts on her hands, the runs in her stockings, the way her heart felt like it was trying to claw its way out of her chest.

"Y/N!" She reached them just as they were struggling to their feet, blood trickling from the corner of their mouth. Up close, she could see how much the fight had cost them. Their hands were shaking—barely noticeable unless you knew what to look for, but Lois knew every tell, every micro-expression, every sign that Y/N was in trouble.

"Lois?" Y/N's voice was thick with surprise and something that might have been fear. "What are you..? You need to get out of here. Now."

"Not without you."

"This thing, it's not like anything I've fought before. It's learning, adapting. Every time I hit it, it comes back stronger." Y/N wiped blood from their lip with the back of their hand. "It's going to kill me, and I can't—I won't let you watch that happen."

The casual way they said it—it's going to kill me—like they were discussing the weather, broke something inside Lois's chest. But before she could respond, Doomsday's roar echoed off the surrounding buildings, and they both turned to see the creature pulling itself out of the rubble where Y/N had left it.

"Go," Y/N said urgently, their hands on Lois's shoulders. "Please. I need to know you're safe."

Lois looked into the eyes she loved so much-eyes that had seen the birth of stars and the heat death of galaxies, but still got soft when they looked at her-and made a choice.

"I love you," she said, rising up on her toes to kiss them, quick and fierce and desperate. "And I am not losing you today."

Before Y/N could respond, she was running again, not away from the fight but parallel to it, positioning herself where she could see everything. Her phone showed three minutes until Michael arrived. Three minutes to watch the person she loved face down certain death.

Three minutes too long.

The next few minutes played out like a fever dream. Y/N threw everything they had at Doomsday-heat vision that should have cut through steel, punches that should have shattered mountains, speed that should have made them untouchable. But the creature adapted to each attack, grew stronger, more vicious.

And Y/N grew slower.

Lois watched her partner, her love, her future, her forever-get beaten down by degrees. A punch that sent them skidding across asphalt. A backhand that cracked their ribs audibly. A grab that lifted them off their feet and hurled them into the ground hard enough to crater the street.

Each impact felt like a physical blow to Lois's own body. She found herself gasping in sympathy, her hands clenched into fists so tight her nails drew blood from her palms. This was torture-watching and being unable to help, knowing that her presence here was probably making things worse by giving Y/N something to worry about.

But she couldn't leave. Even if it meant watching Y/N die, she couldn't leave them to face this alone.

The end, when it came, was almost anticlimactic.

Doomsday caught Y/N in a bear hug, those massive arms wrapping around their torso like a vise. Lois could see Y/N struggling, could see the way their face contorted in pain as the creature squeezed. Then Doomsday's bone spikes began to extend, and Lois realized with crystalline clarity what was about to happen.

"NO!" The scream tore from her throat before she could stop it.

Y/N's head snapped toward her, and for one perfect, terrible moment, their eyes met across the chaos. Y/N smiled—actually smiled, as if seeing her face was worth dying for-and then did something that would replay in Lois's nightmares for years to come.

They grabbed Doomsday's spikes with both hands and pulled them deeper into their own chest.

The creature roared in surprise and pain as Y/N's heat vision, activated at point-blank range, finally found its mark. Superheated energy tore through Doomsday from the inside out, and both combatants collapsed in a tangle of limbs and smoke.

Neither of them moved.

Lois was running before her mind caught up with her legs, screaming Y/N's name, no longer caring about her own safety. She reached them at the same time the T-Sphere materialized overhead, Michael Holt's ship shimmering into visibility like a mirage resolving into reality.

Y/N lay on their back in a pool of blood that was spreading too fast, their uniform torn open to reveal the puncture wounds in their chest. Their breathing was shallow, labored, each exhale accompanied by a wet sound that meant internal bleeding.

"Hey," Lois whispered, dropping to her knees beside them and cradling their head in her lap. "Hey, look at me."

Y/N's eyes fluttered open, unfocused but aware. "Lo? Are you...Are you hurt?"

Even dying, they were worried about her. Lois felt tears she hadn't realized she was crying drip onto Y/N's face. "I'm fine. You're going to be fine too, okay? We're going to get you help."

"Doomsday?"

Lois glanced over at the creature's motionless form. "Dead. You killed it. You saved everyone."

Y/N tried to smile, but it came out more like a grimace. "Good. That's...that's good." Their hand found hers, fingers cold and weak. "Lois, I need you to know-"

"Don't." She squeezed their hand tighter. "Don't you dare say goodbye to me."

"I love you," Y/N continued as if she hadn't spoken. "More than I've ever loved anything. You made me feel human, and that was...that was the best gift anyone ever gave me."

"Y/N, stop talking and save your strength." The ship was landing now, its loading ramp extending toward them. Michael Holt appeared at the top, medical kit in hand.

"Promise me something," Y/N whispered, their voice getting weaker. "Promise me you'll be happy. After. Promise me you'll find someone who-"

"No." Lois's voice was sharp with panic and fury. "No, I will not promise you that because you are not dying. Do you hear me? I am not letting you die."

Michael reached them, scanner already out and beeping urgently. "Vitals are crashing," he reported, all business. "Massive internal bleeding, possible cardiac trauma. We need to move now."

Together, they lifted Y/N onto a stretcher Michael had produced from somewhere. Y/N groaned, the sound weak and pained, but they were still conscious, still breathing.

"The Fortress?" Michael asked as they secured Y/N in the ship's medical bay.

"The Fortress," Lois confirmed, strapping herself into the seat next to Y/N's stretcher. "How long?"

"At maximum speed? Fifteen minutes."

Lois looked down at Y/N, whose eyes had drifted closed, their breathing becoming more labored by the second. Fifteen minutes suddenly felt like fifteen years.

"Make it ten," she said.

The flight to the Arctic was the longest ten minutes of Lois's life. She spent every second of it talking to Y/N, whether they could hear her or not, her voice a steady stream of memories and promises and desperate pleas.

"Remember our first real date?" she said, her hand stroking their hair. "You were so nervous you forgot you could fly and took the subway to pick me up. Forty-five minutes late because of track work on the R Line."

Y/N's lips twitched, almost like they were trying to smile.

"And you brought me those terrible gas station flowers because you'd read somewhere that women liked roses, but you didn't know there was a difference between actual roses and those sad wilted things from the corner store." Lois felt herself smile despite the tears. "I kept them until they fell apart because you'd picked them out yourself."

"Blood pressure dropping," Michael called from the pilot's seat. "Whatever you're doing, keep doing it."

So Lois kept talking. About their first fight—a stupid argument about aliens and metahumans. About the first time Y/N had stayed over, how they'd hovered three inches off the bed all night because they were afraid of crushing her in their sleep. About lazy Sunday mornings and terrible cooking experiments and the way Y/N always hummed off-key in the shower.

"I love that you can't carry a tune to save your life," she whispered, leaning down to press her forehead against theirs. "I love that you still get excited about dogs even though Krypto drives you absolutely nuts. I love that you read my articles even when they're about municipal water policy and pretend to be interested."

Y/N's eyes opened again, just for a moment, and their mouth moved soundlessly.

"What?" Lois leaned closer. "What are you trying to say?"

"...not...pretending..." Y/N managed, their voice barely a whisper. "Municipal...water policy...fascinating..."

Despite everything, Lois laughed. A sound somewhere between joy and hysteria. "You're such a nerd."

"Your...nerd..."

"Mine," she agreed fiercely. "My nerd. And you're not allowed to leave me, you understand? I just figured out how to love someone without completely losing my mind about it, and I'll be damned if you check out on me now."

The Fortress of Solitude rose from the Arctic ice like a crystal cathedral, beautiful and alien and completely wrong for Kansas farmers who should have grown up building hay forts instead of ice palaces. But as Michael's ship approached the structure, Lois had never been more grateful for Kryptonian technology in her life.

"The entrance should recognize Y/N's biometric signature," she told Michael as they prepared to land.

"What if it doesn't?"

Lois looked down at Y/N, whose breathing had become so shallow she had to watch carefully to see their chest rise and fall. "Then I'll find another way in. I always do."

The Fortress doors opened for them without hesitation, recognizing Y/N even in their current state. Michael guided the ship into the central chamber, where holographic displays and floating crystals created an environment that looked more like the inside of a star than any place humans were meant to be.

"Where's the healing matrix?" Michael asked, powering down the ship's engines.

"This way." Lois had only been here a handful of times-Y/N was protective of their Kryptonian heritage, careful about sharing too much too fast—but she remembered the route to the med bay. They'd taken a tour during one of their early visits, back when everything between them was still new and careful and full of possibility.

The healing matrix looked exactly like what it was-alien technology designed for a dead race, all crystal formations and energy fields that hummed with barely contained power. Lois had seen it work on minor injuries before, had watched it repair cuts and bruises with efficiency that made human medicine look like applying band-aids to severed arteries.

But this was different. This was massive trauma, the kind of damage that might be beyond even Kryptonian science.

"Help me get them onto the platform," she said, and together she and Michael lifted Y/N from the stretcher onto the crystal surface at the center of the matrix.

"Lois," Michael said gently, "you need to prepare yourself for the possibility that this might not—"

"It will work," she cut him off. "It has to work."

The matrix activated as soon as Y/N's body made contact with the crystal, energy fields springing to life around them like ethereal medical equipment. Holographic displays showed vital signs, cellular damage, the intricate network of injuries that Doomsday had inflicted.

And they were bad. Very bad.

"Cardiac rupture," Michael read from the displays, his voice clinical. "Massive hemorrhaging. Multiple organ failure. Lois..."

"How long?" she asked, ignoring the way her voice shook.

Michael studied the readouts, running calculations in his head. "If the matrix can stabilize the bleeding... maybe six hours for basic repairs. Another twelve for full cellular regeneration."

Eighteen hours. Eighteen hours of not knowing if the person she loved would live or die, eighteen hours of watching energy fields work on damage that should have been fatal, eighteen hours of the most helpless feeling she'd ever experienced.

"Okay," she said, sinking into a chair someone had placed near the matrix. "Okay. We wait."

Michael hesitated. "I should call the League, let them know—"

"No." The word came out sharper than she'd intended. "Not yet. Please. I just... I need some time. Just us."

Michael nodded, understanding more than she'd expected. "I'll monitor from the ship, give you some privacy. Call if anything changes."

And then she was alone with Y/N and the soft hum of alien technology, watching energy fields work to repair the person she loved more than her own life.

The first hour was the worst. Y/N's vital signs fluctuated wildly as the matrix worked to stabilize the immediate damage, and twice Lois was sure she was about to watch them die despite every effort to save them. She found herself talking again, a constant stream of words aimed at keeping them anchored to the world of the living.

"The first time I knew I loved you," she said during one particularly scary dip in their heart rate, "was three weeks after you told me who you really were. You'd had a bad day-some natural disaster you couldn't prevent, I think—and you came to my apartment still in the suit, just sat on my couch and cried."

The memory was crystalline in its clarity. Y/N had looked so small despite their size, so human despite everything that made them alien.

"I made you tea and you fell asleep with your head in my lap, and I realized that this person who could move mountains trusted me enough to be vulnerable with me. That's when I knew I was completely gone for you."

Y/N's heart rate stabilized.

By the third hour, the immediate crisis had passed, but the real work was just beginning. The matrix had stopped the bleeding and stabilized their organs, but now came the delicate process of cellular repair. Lois watched fields of energy weave through Y/N's body, fixing damage on a molecular level, rebuilding what Doomsday had destroyed.

"I'm scared," she admitted to the unconscious figure on the crystal platform. "I've never been this scared in my life, and that includes the time I was kidnapped by Intergang and the time I accidentally walked into that Kryptonite smuggling ring."

She stood up, pacing around the matrix, needing to move. "I don't know how to do this without you. I don't know how to be brave without knowing you're out there somewhere, keeping the world safe. I don't know how to write stories about hope if the thing that taught me what hope looks like is gone."

The matrix hummed in response, as if the Fortress itself was listening.

"I know that's selfish," she continued. "I know the world needs Superman more than Lois Lane needs her partner. But I can't help it. I'm selfish about you. I want you to come home to me every night and complain about your day and help me with the crossword puzzle and laugh at my terrible jokes."

She sat back down, reaching out to touch the energy field around Y/N's hand. It felt warm, almost alive.

"I want forever with you," she whispered. "I want to fight about whose turn it is to do laundry and whether we can afford the good coffee and what movie to watch on Friday nights. I want ordinary things, human things, with someone who's anything but ordinary or human."

Hours passed. The matrix worked with patient efficiency, repairing damage that should have taken weeks to heal. Lois dozed fitfully in her chair, waking every few minutes to check the displays, to make sure Y/N was still breathing, still fighting.

Sometime around hour fifteen, she woke to find Y/N's eyes open, staring at the crystalline ceiling above them.

"Hey," she said softly, afraid to move too quickly, afraid to hope too much.

Y/N turned their head toward her, and their smile was weak but real. "Hey yourself."

"How do you feel?"

"Like I got hit by a truck." Y/N's voice was hoarse, rough from hours of unconsciousness. "A very large, very angry truck with bone spikes."

"That's pretty accurate, actually." Lois felt tears threatening again, but these were different-relief instead of fear, joy instead of desperation. "The matrix says you need another few hours, but the worst is over."

Y/N tried to sit up, winced, and settled back onto the platform. "Doomsday?"

"Dead. You killed it. Saved the whole city."

"How many casualties?"

Trust Y/N to ask about everyone else before asking about their own condition. "Seventeen injured, mostly minor. No deaths except yours, and that didn't take."

Y/N looked confused. "Mine?"

"You died," Lois said simply. "For about three minutes, according to Michael's readings. Clinically dead. I've never been so angry at anyone in my life."

"I'm sorry," Y/N said, and they sounded like they meant it. "I didn't mean to—"

"Die protecting the people you love?" Lois reached through the energy field to touch their hand, relief flooding through her when their fingers squeezed back. "Yeah, that's exactly the kind of thing you'd do."

They lay in comfortable silence for a while, watching the matrix complete its work. Y/N's color was returning, the terrible pallor of blood loss fading as Kryptonian technology rebuilt them from the inside out.

"Lois," Y/N said eventually, "what you did today...getting me here, making this happen—"

"Don't." She shook her head. "Don't thank me for refusing to let you die. That's not heroic, that's just selfish. I need you too much to let you go."

"I need you too." Y/N's voice was soft, thoughtful. "When I was fighting Doomsday, when I realized I might not make it... the only thing I could think about was that I'd never see you again. Never get to tell you how much you mean to me."

"You told me," Lois reminded them. "Right before you decided to martyr yourself like an idiot."

"I told you I loved you. But I never told you..." Y/N paused, seeming to gather their thoughts. "I never told you that you saved me first."

Lois frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Before you, I was just going through the motions. Flying around, stopping disasters, being Superman because that's what I was supposed to do. But I wasn't really living. I was just... existing."

Y/N turned onto their side, facing her fully despite the discomfort it obviously caused. "You taught me what it meant to be human. Not the biology of it, but the emotional reality. You taught me that being vulnerable isn't weakness, that letting someone see all of you-the good parts and the broken parts—is the bravest thing you can do."

"Y/N..."

"I'm not finished." Their smile was soft, fond. "You taught me that saving the world means nothing if you don't have someone to come home to at the end of the day. You taught me that love isn't about being perfect for someone, it's about being yourself and trusting them to love that person."

Lois felt tears sliding down her cheeks again, but these were good tears, clean tears.

"So when I say you saved me," Y/N continued, "I don't mean from Doomsday. I mean from a life without meaning, without connection, without love. You saved me from being Superman and helped me become Y/N."

"I love Y/N," Lois said, leaning forward to press her forehead against the energy field. "I love Superman too, but Y/N is who I fell for. The person who gets excited about stupid things and worries about whether their tie matches their shoes and leaves coffee rings on my table."

"I'll try to be more careful with the coffee rings."

"Don't you dare. I like having proof that you were there."

The matrix chimed softly, and the energy fields began to fade. According to the displays, Y/N's cellular regeneration was complete, all major trauma repaired. They were, for all intents and purposes, as good as new.

"How do you feel?" Lois asked as Y/N sat up slowly, testing their range of motion.

"Like myself again." Y/N stood, stretching, and Lois could see the exact moment they realized they were whole. The relief in their expression was overwhelming. "Like I'm going to live to see tomorrow."

"Good," Lois said, standing as well. "Because I have plans for tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that."

"Oh?" Y/N moved closer, and despite everything they'd been through, their smile was pure mischief. "What kind of plans?"

"The kind that involve you being alive for them."

Y/N laughed-a sound Lois had thought she might never hear again—and pulled her into their arms. They were warm and solid and real, and when they kissed her, Lois could taste forever on their lips.

"I love you," Y/N murmured against her mouth. "Forever, remember?"

"Forever," Lois agreed, thinking of the crossword puzzle they'd left unfinished on her desk. Seven across: What lovers promise each other.

Forever seemed like a good place to start.

The flight back to Metropolis was different from the journey to the Fortress. Y/N sat beside her in the ship's passenger area, color returned to their cheeks, uniform repaired by helpful Kryptonian technology. They looked like themselves again, like the person who'd been reading over her shoulder that morning, who'd written "forever" in careful handwriting.

"What happens now?" Lois asked as the city skyline came into view.

"Now we go home," Y/N said simply. "We finish the crossword. We argue about what to have for dinner. We pretend this was just another Tuesday."

"Is that what you want? To pretend?"

Y/N considered this, their hand finding hers and squeezing gently. "I want to live like today taught me something important about how precious this is. But I also want to live like we have time to figure it out as we go."

"What did it teach you?"

"That I don't want to waste another second being afraid of how much I love you." Y/N's smile was soft, certain. "That life's too short to hold back, even when you're functionally immortal."

"Good," Lois said, settling against their side as Metropolis grew larger below them. "Because I'm done holding back too."

"What does that mean?"

Lois looked up at them, at this person who'd died for the world and lived for her, and made a decision that felt as natural as breathing.

"It means when people ask what we are to each other, I'm not going to say 'it's complicated' anymore."

"What are you going to say?"

"That you're the person I'm going to marry," she said, and watched Y/N's eyes go wide with surprise and delight. "If you'll have me."

"Lois Lane," Y/N said, their voice full of wonder, "are you proposing to me?"

"I'm Lois Lane," she replied with a grin. "I don't propose. I inform."

Y/N laughed, the sound bright and joyful and alive, and kissed her as Metropolis spread out below them-a city full of people who would sleep safely tonight because Superman had kept his promise to protect them, and because Lois Lane had refused to let love die without a fight.

"Yes," Y/N said against her lips. "To all of it. To forever. To you."

"Good," Lois said, and settled in to enjoy the flight home.

After all, they had a crossword to finish.

---

Three hours later, they were home.

The apartment felt different somehow-smaller, more precious. Y/N had changed out of the Superman suit into soft pajama pants and one of Lois's old Planet t-shirts that was too small for them but that they wore anyway because it smelled like her perfume. Lois had ordered Thai food and opened a bottle of wine, and now they were sprawled on the couch with cartons of pad thai cooling on the coffee table and some mindless sitcom playing in the background.

Y/N was stretched out with their head in Lois's lap, looking more relaxed than they had in weeks.

"This is nice," Y/N murmured, eyes drifting closed as Lois's fingers combed gently through their hair. "Quiet."

"Mmm." Lois traced the line of Y/N's jaw with her free hand, marveling at the fact that she could touch them, that they were here and whole and safe. "No explosions, no alien invasions, no disasters that need immediate Superman intervention."

"Don't jinx it," Y/N said with a sleepy smile. "The universe has a twisted sense of humor." On the TV, someone was getting into an argument about a wedding cake. Lois wasn't really watching-she was too busy studying Y/N's face, cataloging every detail like she was seeing them for the first time. The small scar above their left eyebrow from a childhood accident in Smallville. The way their eyelashes cast shadows on their cheeks. The tiny freckle just below their ear that she'd kissed a hundred times but somehow never stopped noticing.

"What are you thinking about?" Y/N asked without opening their eyes, because of course they could sense her staring.

"You," Lois said honestly. "How different you look when you're not carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders."

"I always carry it. That's the job."

"Not right now you don't." Her fingers found that sensitive spot behind Y/N's ear, and they practically purred. "Right now you're just mine."

Y/N's eyes opened at that, soft and warm and slightly unfocused. "Yours, huh?"

"Mine," Lois confirmed, leaning down to kiss their forehead. "My partner who almost died today and scared me half to death and is never, ever allowed to do that again."

"I can't promise I won't—"

"Shh." Lois pressed a finger to their lips. "Tonight you can. Tonight we're just two people on a couch, eating terrible takeout and watching bad television. Superman doesn't exist tonight."

Y/N caught her finger between their lips and kissed it, the gesture so tender it made Lois's chest ache.

"Just Y/N and Lois?"

"Just Y/N and Lois."

They settled back into comfortable silence, Y/N's breathing gradually evening out as they dozed against her. Lois let herself be soft in a way she rarely allowed-stroking Y/N's hair, tracing patterns on their shoulder, pressing little kisses to the top of their head whenever she felt like it.

"Lo?" Y/N's voice was thick with sleep.

"Yeah?"

"When I was dying... what you said about municipal water policy..."

Lois laughed softly. "You were literally bleeding out and that's what you focused on?"

"It was important." Y/N shifted slightly, nuzzling closer. "I need you to know I really do find your articles fascinating. Even the boring ones. Especially the boring ones."

"Why especially those?"

"Because they're yours. Because your brain works in ways that amaze me. Because you can make me care about sewer systems and city budgets and zoning laws just by explaining why they matter." Y/N's voice was getting softer, more distant. "I love watching you get excited about things other people think are mundane."

Lois felt something warm and liquid spread through her chest. This was why she'd fallen for them-not the cape or the powers or the world-saving, but moments like this. Y/N seeing beauty in her passion for the ordinary, for the unglamorous stories that actually shaped people's lives.

"I love you too," she whispered, but Y/N was already asleep, their breathing deep and even.

On the TV, the wedding cake argument had resolved and moved on to someone's relationship drama. Lois reached for the remote and turned the volume down, not wanting to wake Y/N but not quite ready to end this perfect, ordinary moment. Her phone buzzed with a text from Perry asking for a follow-up story on the Doomsday attack, but she ignored it. For once, the story could wait until tomorrow. Tonight was for this-for soft touches and quiet breathing and the simple miracle of Y/N alive and safe in her arms. She thought about the crossword puzzle still sitting unfinished on her desk at work.

Seven across: What lovers promise each other. Forever. But sitting here with Y/N's weight warm against her legs, their face peaceful in sleep, Lois realized forever wasn't something you promised. It was something you chose, again and again, in a thousand small moments like this one. She pressed another kiss to Y/N's hair and settled in for a long night of bad television and the best company she'd ever had.

After all, they had forever to figure out the rest.

-------------

Thanks for reading! I really hope you guys enjoyed it. Once again, thank you for your overwhelming support!

Have a great day/night everyone.

Best,

Raikagez

[chikaras-garden]

Dick Grayson corrupting Superman’s sidekick. There’s sooooo many rules that Clark has for you and so many rules for Dick to break…

✨new AU unlocked✨ meet kryptonian!reader

You press yourself up against Dick’s chest and watch as what you’re doing dawns on him: his lips part to make way for a breathy laugh, and his eyes light up with a sparkle that’s overjoyed, if defiant—and more than a little dangerous. His arm snakes around your waist, and he bends to press a kiss underneath your ear.

“Aw, look at you,” he teases in a voice that’s just a little mean. One of his hands comes up to toy with the ends of your hair. “Clark never lets you have what you need, huh?”

Quickly, his hand grasps the back of your costume’s skirt—what a thin, useless little swath of red fabric it is—and hikes it up your waist. That hand then palms your ass, and Dick groans at the feel of how sweet, how round, how innocent you are.

“Please,” you beg. You’re pent up. You know this. He knows this. Everyone can see the wildness in your eyes, the innermost feelings that Clark—your mentor—has trained you to control.

It’s for everyone else’s good. That’s our burden. Our sacrifice.

“Don’t beg me,” Dick chastises gently, shit-eating grin etched onto his lips. His fingers dance along your hip, crawling from your back to your front, then down the inside of your thigh. You buck your hips into his hand and he answers by pressing his palm against your sex, rubbing you over your panties.

You’re not supposed to do this. You’re not supposed to feel this. Dick is— He’s your teammate. He’s a human. You’re a bundle of raw power, so uncontrolled that even Clark worries about your ability to keep yourself in line. That’s why you’re not allowed to fight alone. That’s why he’s training you—

Dick’s teeth nipping at your earlobe shakes you free of your thoughts. You’re dizzy with the feeling of him acting like putty in your hands, begging you when you’re usually the one begging him.

“Just take what you want, angel,” he whispers. “Won’t it be fun to lose it a little? Use me however you want?”

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

"SMILE FOR THE CAMERA BABY"

TIM DRAKE X KRYPTONIAN!READER

*SNAP ZOOM CLICK*

The camera zooms in on your naked body, taking in every inch of your curves, every contour, every scar, every stretch mark, every spot you try to wiggle away from the camera's vision. But all Tim had to do was move his hands or move your body. You were usually so much stronger than him, but tonight you were weaker, your link to the Kryptonite chains holding your power back, a green glow dancing over your skin. You felt so weak and small under him, whimpering and gasping for air as the camera continued to follow your every move. "You like the cuff I made for you? Took me a couple of months. I had to raid Bruce's Kryptonite stash just to find the perfect one for you." You could see the cocky smile on his face behind the camera. Why did he have to be so perverted? You started to gain your bearings just a little bit until BUZZ. "GAAH!" you moaned out, your body arching, tears rolling down your face. He rubbed your abdomen gently, calming you down, keeping your back pushed against the bed. "It's all right, baby, I'm here," he chuckled softly, the cocky bastard, putting the vibrator on high just to see how you would react. He's evil like that, villainous like that, rubbing circles with the vibrator on your sensitive bud, seeing you shiver and shake. "Aww, crybaby, I'll take good care of you. Just a few more for tonight, or maybe not; this way is too fun." He licked and kissed your tears away from the overwhelming pleasure, putting the vibrator back on high, guiding it up and down your wetness, humming along with the rhythm of the toy. Your body started to go limp, your mouth slacking open as another orgasm hit you like a truck. "Not putting up a fight," he mumbled against your cheek. You stopped thrashing around, pulling out of the cuffs, your body relaxing as you let your thighs tremble. His lips found yours in a heated and sloppy kiss, his tongue dropping down into your throat, making you whine. The kiss separated with a string of saliva connecting your mouths. If you remembered correctly, drool trickled down the corner of your mouth as you gasped for air. Here you lay during the interview. Tim's kisses got desperate as he made his way from your chin down to your neck, placing bites on your collarbones. His lips continued to travel, sucking on your nipples. The camera was still in focus, moving an inch down to where the vibrator was sitting, still buzzing loudly. "That's enough of machines; let me make you scream in the right way." His warm tongue flicked against that sweet bud, and you moaned, your head falling back as you thrashed against the cuffs. "Baby, break these one, and I'll make the next ones even stronger." He suckled gently on your bud with a purr; all you could do was nod.

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Hello. (Bingo) Can you write Dark Clark Kent and plus size female kryptoian reader ?

.⋆｡The Last of His Kind｡⋆.

Dark!Clark Kent x plus size reader

Clark is no stranger to loneliness, but a mysterious ship in the middle of the desert could be just the answer he’s been searching for

Warnings: kryptonian!reader, DARK FIC but more soft than my usual stuff, naive reader, kidnapping?, possessive!clark, no use of Y/N, future isolation and controlling behaviour WC: 1k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

Clark had always been alone in the universe, an unfortunate consequence of his own people’s arrogance and willing ignorance of the happenings of the world around them. He didn’t mind so much as he had never experienced anything different but after Zod and the briefest of hints that he wasn’t the last, Clark felt a deep stirring in his chest.

He often caught himself staring off into the void between stars, wondering if there were others out there. But his duty was to Earth, he couldn’t just leave because of some slim hope that other Kryptonians lived on a far away planet. And even if there were, they could be like Zod- power hungry and cruel. 

But on a cool day in late October, Clark got his chance to find out.

The office was almost empty, everyone having gone home early to beat the autumn storm that was predicted for later that evening, leaving Clark virtually alone in his block of cubicles. His article was almost done but he found himself picking it apart over and over again, like something deep in the recesses of his mind was telling him to delay returning home for as long as he could. Then, he heard it.

A heavy thud of something crashing into the earth, it had to be bigger than a meteor but far smaller than an airplane or weather balloon. Clark’s head tilted as he focused all of his senses to somewhere in the Sahara. The groan and pop of heated metal slowly cooling, the hiss of air escaping a pressurised chamber. He could smell gunpowder and dust that clung to the shell of whatever it was. But he could also hear the steady beat of something within the metal.

With a cautionary glance around the office, which was now absent of anyone save for him, Clark stood. He was careful enough to shut down his computer and gather his things but as soon as his bag was zipped and he was safely in the stairwell, he darted down the stairs, just barely keeping himself restrained enough not to go too fast and give himself away.

He could hear the beating slowly getting faster. He ran out of the building as the hissing ceased and the familiar turning of gears started, just like it had in the ship he discovered in the arctic. Clark stumbled over his work shoes, the buttons of his shirt practically flying off in his struggle to get out of them. If this was another Zod, he wouldn’t have much time to react before they started acclimating to Earth’s healthy sun. 

His glasses were barely off his nose when he finally heard it, a soft groan- delicate, gentle (as much as a groan could be) and Clark’s heart skipped a beat. She let out another soft sound and Clark finally took off. 

This could be it, the answer he needed so badly. Perhaps it was an elder who could really teach him about his home world, a child who had been lost just like him. But some deep part of his soul, a piece he had locked away a long time ago, wondered if it was someone his age, someone who would be his equal, his partner.

The sands of the Sahara quickly revealed a huge slash through the dunes, darkened by the heat of the ship’s dramatic entry. The ship itself was halfway buried in the sand, its black hull a stark contrast against the bright sand. Clark landed in front of its rounded end. 

Steam curled around the dark metal but he barely had time to appraise the vessel before a mechanical clanging began and the sand around its side started to shift. Clark darted forwards as a panel lifted and the earth around it immediately began to spill inside. He grabbed at the open frame and tugged the ship free just as its occupant became visible.

She was beautiful.

Large curves highlighted by tight spandex-like material, the exact same as his suit. The symbol spread over her generous chest consisted of two overlapping circles, one that he didn’t recognise even after his father’s lessons. Clark felt like he couldn’t even breathe as he looked down at her body, everything about her was captivating, hypnotising, everything he had ever wanted. Her hair was pulled back and away from her face, allowing him to observe every blemish and mark of her skin in extraordinary detail. She was a goddess in its truest sense, an ethereal being in mortal form.

And when she finally opened her eyes, he was met with the most brilliant shade of e/c he had ever seen. Panic briefly flashed across her face before she saw his own house symbol and immediately relaxed, her expression more calm than he thought it should be in this situation.

“I’m Kal-El.” Her eyes sparkled in the strong rays of the sun as a small smile crept onto her face.

“Kal.” She repeated his name back to him in a voice far more pleasant than he had ever heard before. Her lips parted again but suddenly her body rocked forwards, as painful coughs rattled through her lungs. Clark swept her into his arms without thinking and pressed her to his chest. She limply clutched at his back as she continued to cough.

He flinched with each of her laboured inhales, his own chest burning with a rage he couldn’t explain. But what he did know was that no one else could know of her. Only god knew what would happen if any government found out about another Kryptonian, especially a female one. Lois and his mother would try to corrupt her mind, encouraging her to leave him.

He wouldn’t let that happen. He would never let himself be alone again.

He could protect her, mould her. She would be safe. No one would know of her existence, not until she knew who exactly she belonged to, the only person that she would ever be able to trust.

Clark smirked as he cupped her head gently, his thumb tracing the apple of her perfect cheek. Oh yes, she was absolutely perfect.

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[pastelclovds]

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧’𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞

pairing: debbie x kryptonian!male!reader x nolan

cw: angst, diabetes amount of fluff, polyamorous relationship, hurt/comfort, pre s2, comfort sex, praise kink, vaginal sex, oral sex, squirting, soft dom!top!reader, spooning position, mentioned past threesomes, infidelity (andressa and nolan in the end 😬).

word count: 1.5k

authors note: continuing from this post a lifetime ago. this is my most angsty fic yet :’) enjoy 💕

the only thing that just as painful as fighting your husband, nolan, the man whom you had loved for two decades after witnessing him beat your son (mark) to a pulp: was watching your wife, debbie break into a million figurative pieces on your bed while she was holding one of nolan’s shirts.

you had always admired her independence and compassion. she taught you and nolan the history, beauty, and culture of this peculiar planet. it wasn’t long until she and nolan had stolen your heart. the house was empty and mark was off to college. you had come back home from the grocery store, a box of debbie’s favorite snacks in your hand when you caught sight of her sobbing self.

debbie was the strongest person in the universe to you. she had always put the needs of others before herself. this time, you’ll be sure to make her feel loved and supported. she didn’t push away from you as you took her into your sturdy arms, nolan’s shirt immediately forgotten.

she let’s out a sob when she felt your lips trailing from her collarbone to her neck. a few tears still manage to escape her closed lids but disappear as you kiss them away. debbie sits on your lap as she hides her swollen face on your chest.

“i’m sorry—”

“you have nothing to be sorry about.”

“how could i’ve been so stupid to believe him for all those years—?”

you gently cup her tear stained cheeks as you softly muttered, “i believed him too. nolan’s betrayal hurt us both. but you’ve been dealing with it all by yourself when we should’ve been dealing with it together, debbie. you’ve been strong long enough, for mark and myself. i’ve never been more proud of you, but now it’s your turn to let go and be taken care of. will…” she gasps when you give her waist a small squeeze, you continue to ask with soft eyes, “…you let me?”

debbie had never felt more loved in her life, she had no clue what she would do if you weren’t there by her side. the bed was never cold. your tender smile greeted her every morning. you treated her like she was a queen worthy of your worship. she was so tired of putting on a facade. tonight, she wanted to be yours.

debbie answers your question by wrapping one of her arms around your neck as her plump lips pressed against yours, to which you warmly welcomed back. all the while, her other hand snuck under your shirt and started stroking your abdomen.

you removed her shirt and unclasped her bra, debbie let out a pleased sigh as her chest was released from its cage and hung free, her nipples hardened under your lustful gaze. you didn’t waste any time in getting naked yourself as debbie continued to strip herself for you. her heart leaped when you stared at her body with the same hunger as when you first saw her naked all those years ago.

a string of slick reveals itself as debbie removes her panties when she catches sight of your toned muscles shining under the light of the sunset peeking through your bedroom window. your dick throbbed and felt heavy as debbie took it in her hand, you shallowed your groans with a steamy kiss as her fingers played with your tip.

before debbie could make a move to take you into her mouth, you stopped her. she stared up at you puzzled.

“i’m supposed to take care of you, remember? i wanna spoil you, make you feel good,” you spoke in a thick tone that it has debbie clenching around nothing. you said nothing as you picked up debbie like she weigh nothing as placed her carefully on the cold bedsheets. you spread her legs apart until you were met with the delicious sight of her wet pussy. your cock jumps and your balls made it painfully clear that they were full than ever. you wanted to dive into her body and never part, but you ceased those thoughts. this was for debbie, not you. there would be a time for that later.

debbie looked up at you with pleading eyes, you lowered yourself down on the floor at the edge of the bed. your hands continued to lovingly caress debbie’s thighs. then, without warning, you leaned your face towards her cunt and push your tongue inside her twitching walls.

“oh fuck— ah! oh, this feels so good,” debbie cried out, her legs wrapped themselves around your head. she didn’t know if it was because you were an alien or whatever, but your tongue always managed to reach the deepest depths of her better than nolan could.

debbie fists the sheets as you continue to stretch her out, but you didn’t stop there. you ravenously sucked her clit, your growls sending pleasant vibrations through out. you devoured her like an inmate on death row. debbie was reminded on how greedy you were when it came to her pussy. whether it was to eating her out or thrusting your fat cock into her, it didn’t matter. you were drunk on her and nolan’s respective holes nonetheless.

debbie let out gasping moans as your tongue flattened over her overstimulated clit and dragged it back and forth. just to throw her over the edge, you pumped your fingers in and out of her sopping pussy, curling them up and pressing them against her walls until they found her sweet spot. you stared up at her with a soft, demanding look, as if you were commanding her to let go and release all over your face.

the only sounds in the rooms were the slurping of your mouth against debbie’s sex and her uncontrollable noises and pleas for more. It was too much and perfection at the same time. debbie shook as she choked out a cry, she sees stars as her orgasm rushes through her and slick squirts over your lips and nose.

debbie laid on the bed like a stringless puppet, her eyes closed as she catches her breath. meanwhile, you rise from the carpeted floor, wipe the clear slick from your face, and use it to lube your hard cock. it had already turned bright red near the tip due to you ignoring it. now the real fun can begin. you give debbie a few minutes to rest, you handed her a bottle water to drink as you showered her in praise.

debbie flushed at the overwhelming adoration. debbie recalled another memory of you taking charge in the aftercare as nolan and debbie held each other in warm embrace after a particularly exhausting session. you made sure they were the most comfortable.

finally, you set debbie sideways on top of the soft pillows as you laid behind her, snaking your arm around her waist as you grind your dick against her entrance. debbie whined when she felt the tip of your cock touch her clit after every movement of your hips.

you peck her neck once more and whisper next to her ear, “i love you, debbie. more than anything else. you aren’t alone, this wasn’t either of our faults. you’re my strong, beautiful wife. nothing’s gonna change that.”

you hear debbie’s breath hitch before salty tears fill her eyes once again. she turns her head and holds onto your neck so she could press a kiss to your lips. your bodies were tangled up like a intimate pretzel, even if you didn’t have your super hearing, you’d still be able to hear debbie’s heartbeat due to how close she was.

nobody else but yourself, debbie and nol—

…nobody else but debbie and youself existed…

debbie pulls away from the kiss first as a few tears escape from her eyes again, she stares at you with pure love and trust as she mutters out, “thank you for everything. i love you more. please, please put it in—”

debbie trailed off and let out a sighing moan when she felt your cock fill her to the brim, your hips press flush against her. your tongue was perfect, but your dick was divine. you were going to do everything in your power to make sure nobody hurt your family again. but in the deepest corner of your mind laid a traitorous thought.

where did nolan go, and was he okay?

after you and debbie were done making love, you use your super human speed to make quick work of clean up and gave debbie one last kiss good night before covering the two of you in a blanket and sleeping peacefully for the first time in weeks.

meanwhile, nolan stared up blankly at the countless stars above him from his spot on the balcony that was just outside his bedroom, where andressa slept peacefully on his bed heavy with his future child. despite how far he traveled, nolan could never run away from the memories of what he’d done. he was a disgrace to his empire, and to his family.

the picture of you and debbie appear in his mind. no matter how many times he tried to deny caring for the two of you: he couldn’t believe it himself. he wished things could’ve been different.

[good-ju-ju]

well folks, it looks like we are getting more Ben Grimm x Kryptonian!F!Reader because I also love them and they are soothing to write.

I am thinking about making a section on my Masterlist under Ben Grimm for them. Reblog this to be added to the taglist!

[glowinthedarkjellyfish]

I’ve got some ideas for future fic series that are in my drafts but completed yet so whatever you like most don’t be shy to vote so Ik what to prioritize alongside the gymnast!daughter batfam series ☺️.

I already have ships planned for each of the fic!series but don’t want to spoil it but all of them are x different characters so they aren’t repetitive

[milkbean69]

(tw smut)

Imagine also being Kryptonian like Clark so this means he doesn't have to be gentle with when he's fucking you. Ya'll would have had to have met and got together after he was Superman. The fear and anxiety of actually meeting him, and if he was actually like you or not was buried deep in you chest.

Now Clark wouldn't immediately jump into rough fucking you for many reasons. I highly believe he is an lover of intimacy over pleasure. Sensual romantic love making is how your going to get him in the bedroom most nights. Two, him having to be gentle with everything in his life, inside and out of the bedroom is engrained into is subconscious.

Your going to have to be the one to initate being pounded, riding is the best place to start. You two on the ground floor, hands gripping his shoulders, bouncing up and down on his cock as the Earth slightly shakes beneath you. Clark has honestly never been so fuck out in his life before. His hands above his head as he struggles to fight the voice in his telling him your fragile like the rest, but then remembering your not.

or

He's towered over you, missionary, this man's favorite. Your hips around his waist. You have to use that leg strenght of yours to make him slam into you. He forgets sometimes you just as strong as him. The only times he's really ever being dominated like this in on the field. There's hardily an inch of space when he pulls out before you make him rut back into you.

After Clark gets the hang not going easy on you, he comes to you one day, but in his Superman getup. Beaten and slightly bloody. the fight was rought, he's stressed and pent up. He needs you to release the ache, he needs to fuck it out of his system. He ask if you sure you want to do this, you don't refuse.

Superman flies you out to the middle of knowhere so he can have his way with you. Uninterrupted, without shame or fear. Hell, your not even leaning up against anyting. He you held up with his hands on either side of your waist as your bent over as he's pounding into you. Pants down you ankles as cum leaks down eachother thight's. Your hole is spent.

For the first time in his life he can finally let go, and god damn, if he can feel like this whenever he fucks you, maybe he should let go more often.

[thatrandomidiot182]

Glimpse of Another Life

Variant! Invincible/Mark Grayson × Kryptonian! Reader

Warnings. minor angst, mentions of unrequited love, mentions of death/murder.

A/N. This is verrry dialogue centric, and written during 3am spurts of inspiration, so it's not the greatest, but I do like how it ended up. I hope yall like it as well! P.s. This is not referencing any of the canon Mark variants, but it can be seen as viltrumite Mark if you want! I just had this idea and wanted to share bc pathetic Mark has me DOWN BAD 😫

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

"I thought I'd find you here."

The statement sends a wave of panic down your spine, breaking the peaceful silence you had tried so desperately to find. Your body springs up, instantly uncurling from the fetal position you had been floating in as you tense, preparing to face the source.

"You always came up here after a rough day."

God you wish he'd just shut up.

You never thought you'd feel like this, but after everything that's happened these last twenty-four hours, all you wanted to do was escape that damn voice.

It's why you had fled the planets atmosphere in the first place. Speeding off to curl up in your hiding place next to the sun as soon as things had died down.

It was the one place you knew you could avoid Mark— or at least, your Mark.

It was the one place you could escape the sound of his voice spitting words he'd never say.

"You look exactly the same... You're as beautiful as the day I lost you."

He whispers your name like a prayer, and it sends a violent wave of nausea rolling through your stomach.

Just yesterday it would have brought you an embarrassing amount of glee to hear his voice calling out to you in such a tone.

The teasing lilt and deep, raspy pitch would normally send a wave of comfort over your tensed figure, instantly quelling your fear... Mark always did have the innate ability to shatter your defenses. Even with something as simple and small as a laugh.

"Please. I'm not here to hurt you. I'd never hurt you, I just... I needed to see you again. It's the only reason I came here."

His voice trembles, pitch heightened as he begs, "Please let me see you."

Your body trembles as you feel his presence drawing closer. Whether it was with fear, rage or exhaustion, you don't know. Maybe a sick combination of all three...

"I'm not that person..."

It was the only thing you could think to say in the moment, and your enhanced hearing allows you to hear the stutter in his breath all too clearly...

Along with his heartbeat, which was beating almost as fast as yours.

"I know."

His voice is small, defeated. As you finally turn to face him, body coiled and tensed for a fight, you find yourself freezing at the sight– because this Mark was different.

His face was stronger, more defined. All chisled cheeks and sharp jawline, no trace of the leftover baby fat you loved to squish when he was being too cocky.

Prominent eyebags and traces of a five o-clock shadow age him significantly. Although, taking into account the scars that littered his face and hands and the pure size of him, it was safe to assume he was a bit older.

As your gazes finally meet, you find yourself hesitating at the amount of pain and fondness his eyes held.

That hesitation lasted for only a moment, because as soon as your brain processed the full image of this Mark, you froze.

There are quite a few reasons you feel as though you should be afraid of him, but none of them were what set you off.

It wasn't the suit, which was, to your horror, the classic Viltrumite uniform that you had seen on the previous visits from the race.

It wasn't the length of his hair, which was only slightly shorter than your Marks' was and added to the aura of stern maturity he carried.

It wasn't even the broad expanse of his shoulders, that easily beat your Mark's in comparison, that caused you to freeze in such fear.

It was because of how much he looked like his father.

From the slope of his shoulders to the cinch of his waist, even down to the swell of his thighs, this Mark was undeniably his fathers son.

You'd never thought that Mark had looked like Nolan as much as everyone said he did, but seeing what could be– what is, this other Mark... One who is far from the slender, goofy, childhood best friend of yours that can't build huge muscles if his life depended on it...

Suddenly made you grateful that Debbie's genes had put up such a fight.

Because even as you see Nolan in the mass of his muscles, and the stance that takes up as much space as possible while simultaneously exuding danger and strength– You can still see the remnants of his humanity in the shape of his eyes and curve of his lips. In the slope of his nose and the brown of his iris, you see traces of one of the greatest women you've ever known.

Which is the only reason you haven't moved to attack.

Because this Mark was different. Not just from your Mark, but from all the other Mark's who you had fought (and killed) throughout the past few hours.

Whereas those Marks were all varying in size and stature, their eyes had all held the same sinister glint.

They all shared the same sick inclination to violence and pride, never hesitating to attack first, with a stupid, egoistic whip and strength that rivaled your own.

He didn't.

Despite his size, his posture was carefully submissive, hands splayed open before your eyes in a show of innocence and vulnerability.

His eyes were gentle and tired, rather than obsessive and manic as the others had been.

Still, despite his seemingly unviolent nature, you don't know why you never attacked him.

Maybe it was the desperate hope to find another Mark that was good, or at least, not as bad as all the others.

Maybe it was the overwhelming exhaustion that had numbed your mind since you were first forced to kill a version of your best friend.

Or maybe it was because he somehow knew where to find you, when even your Mark had no idea about your solar absorption, that led you to where you are now.

Sat next to him in a cozy little crater on the moon, overlooking earth as he recalls your alternate life.

"We grew up together. Inseparable since the moment Nolan brought you home from the GDA after your little ship landed in the middle of New York." You note the peculiar use of Nolan's name, nodding along with his words as you reflect on your past with your own Mark.

"I used to be so jealous of you growing up. Unlike me, you had your powers since birth. Nolan always told me that it didn't matter how long you had your powers because when I got mine, I'd be stronger anways." He scoffed, "Fucker was always trying to pit us against each other..."

You tilted your head at that, confused by the notion, "He... never did that here." Your voice was hesitant, unsure if sharing the fact would comfort or further upset him.

Based on the way he smiled at the sound of your voice, you assume he wasn't too concerned with your actual words.

"That.. Makes me so happy to hear, actually." He laughs, breathless and without much humor, "I imagine we– You have a much better relationship with him then..." He trails off, glancing questioningly your way.

You pause, "With Nolan? Or..."

He huffs, leaning more into his elbows that are crossed over his bent knees as he responds, "Both, I suppose..." He gazes out at the expanse of space longingly, "I've thought about it a lot... What it could've been like if he never made us hate each other."

His grin falters, "But that didn't happen. Well, it did, just– not fast enough..." He stutters, and you watch nervously as his fists clench.

"We were at each other's throats our entire lives, and it only got worse when I finally got my powers– I think I was thirteen?" His body remains tense as he continues, "I used to see you as competition. Nolan always paid more attention to you. He took you with him on patrol, he trained you, he.... He made me feel like you were in the way of our relationship as father and son."

He scowls, "I felt like I had to fight for Nolans attention whenever you were around, and it made me hate you because you seemed to take it for granted. You were never enthusiastic about spending time with him, you even seemed to avoid it, and it pissed me off to see you taking advantage of it when I had to beg for crumbs of his approval." He grit his teeth, shuffling ridgedly and you instinctively lean further away at his agitation.

His head snaps your way, and your heart lurches in your throat, wide eyes meeting his as he softens under your flighty stare.

"That's exactly what he planned..." He trails off, head turning away as his body slumps, agitation fizziling out at the sight of your fear. "He wanted me to hate you, so that I would eventually have the will to... eliminate you when the time came to conquer earth. He-He knew that you were the only thing that could pose a threat to our takeover." You both winced at the wording.

"It wasn't until junior prom that I actually opened my eyes..." He laughed sadly.

"Mom made us go together, seeing as neither of us were very popular and tried to use that as an excuse not to go..." He smiled with a wistful sigh, "I'm glad she did. It... ended up being the best night of my life." Your heart clentched at the sight of his crooked smile. His eyes were glazed and reflected the light of the stars in a way that had your breath hitching all too familiarly.

He laughs again, eyes crinkling with affection, "I still remember how awkward you looked in your cute little outfit." His voice took on a teasing lilt as he glanced at you, "Standing at the top of the stairs all grumpy because mom wanted a picture..." He leaned back to lean on his hands with a laugh, "I remember standing there like an idiot. Gaping like a fish because, all of a sudden, you were more than the annoying kid who took my dad from me... You were just... A normal teenager... Who also happened to be the prettiest person I'd ever seen." Your cheeks flushed, and despite knowing he's not actually talking about you... you couldn't help but let yourself indulge in the compliment that your Mark had never even come close to speaking.

"You know, I beat myself up the entire car ride to the school. It was so awkward and it made me realize that despite my dad's interference... You never hated me."

Your eyes are wide and curious as you listen. His voice held so much fondness for this other version of you, it was shocking to imagine him ever hating her.

"I felt like the worst person alive when I realized that despite how awful I was to you, you never held it against me. Guess it's because you knew that I didn't know who my dad actually was..." his voice trailed off, and you could sense the rising anger simmering in his eyes.

"Who knew all it took for you guys to get along was teenage hormones and the dougie..."

Your absentminded comment snaps him out of his haze, drawing his attention as a bewildered stare graces his features.

"I mean, a sixteen year rivalry ended in one night! Must've been some prom..." You smile as you finally get a laugh out of him, quietly reveling in the sound.

"Yeah. It sure was." He smirks, eyes twinkling with a familiar mischief, "You can dance a mean cupid shuffle."

You burst into laughter, tossing your head back with a grin, "Tell me, does you having two left feet translate to every universe?"

He grins back, "Well, yeah– but you said it was cute!"

Your laughter rings in the quiet expanse of space, heard only thanks to the superior senses of your respective alien biologies.

In your humorous fit, you fail to realize how close you began to lean towards Mark until the warmth of his bicep met your own.

Your laughs dwindle at his sudden silence, head tilting to eye him as you grow concerned.

You were met with a gentle, fond smile that set your heart ablaze. His eyes were soft, cheeks pink and dimpled as he stared at you reverently.

You stayed quiet, allowing yourself the moment to soak in his undivided adoration, silently preening under his gaze.

It wasn't until he reached a hand up to brush against your cheek that you snapped out of your stupor. Hesitantly pulling away as you reprimand yourself for getting swept away.

After all, this isn't your Mark.

This isn't your best friend (and nothing more).

Your Mark would never willingly speak so adoringly of you.

Your Mark would never caress you so softly, as if you were something to be worshipped.

Your Mark just didn't love you like you loved him.

It was cruel and unfair to lean into the embrace of this Mark and take advantage of his feelings because at the end of the day, you are not the you he fell in love with.

Your thoughts drive you to break the silence with a sharp sigh, pointedly ignoring his hurt stare as he slowly lowers his hand back to his side.

"Why are you here, Mark?"

He stares at you with a furrowed brow, "I told you, I wanted to see–"

"No, I mean–" You take a breath, gesturing to the earth before you half-heartedly, "Why did you come here with them, if you don't want to conquer our world like they do?"

He takes longer to answer you this time, and you began to worry about his answer.

"It was the only way to see you again." His voice is shaky, the warmth from your previous conversation gone as he glares out at the planet. "Angstrom promised that if I helped him get revenge, he'd let me see you– have you." He pauses, and you tense at the implication of his words.

He sighs, wincing at your jumpiness as he rushes to reassure you, "I'm not here to be the bad guy. I don't want to conquer this earth, I could care less about this Mark! I just– I needed to see you alive. T-To know that you're happy and healthy here... and to make sure it stays that way." His last words are spoken so softly they were almost whispered, and you hesitate to believe them for the sole reason you think you might have hallucinated them.

Nonetheless, you stay silent at the revelation, allowing yourself the time to properly digest your entire encounter thus far.

Your head is far more clouded than when you originally came up here after Mark had disappeared with Eve. After your heart could no longer take killing him again and again...

You don't know what you're supposed to do anymore...

You want to cry, but you can't because you know the Mark next to you will want to comfort you, and the worst part is that you'd allow it.

You want to go back down and pummel every varient you come across just to let out the frustration you feel, but you won't. Not after discovering the possibility that they're not all bad.

So what can you do? What should you do?

What will you do?

What you always do–

"Well, you said you weren't here to be the bad guy, right?"

You slowly rise from your seated position, looming over Mark with a steeled gaze.

Despite your seriousness, you can't help the quirk of your lips at the intense way he nods his head. You shoulders stiffen as you turn back towards earth resolutely, sparing him one last glance before taking off.

"Prove it."

–Save your planet.

[gatorbites-imagines]

“Viltrumites are actually aliens Mark (cuz I love the weird, body horror, and oviposition :3c)”

Me: (leans forward in chair, putting hands together) yes, please tell more of this Mark that includes weird, body horror and especially oviposition 🙏

I honestly would love to hear how Mark treats normal Reader and their eggs. Would Mark being the one to carry them or Reader? 🤔

“Viltrumites are actually aliens” Mark Grayson 

Honestly, this au only comes from me being a fiend who likes monsters. This has no good solid background yet, its just me being annoying. Its also mostly me rambling about oviposition... 

So like, aliens, huh?  

Im always a big sucker for aliens who take a human form to fit in, so imagine that viltrumites are like that. Their true forms are hard to comprehend and understand, so they take a human-like shape to be easier to perceive. 

Mark would have a more solid human form compared to other viltrumites because of his mom. Other viltrumites would be just kinda, blank to look at, kinda like dolls with no pores or inperfections. 

Marks less human attributes start showing after he gains his powers. Like him losing all his teeth at once, only to be replaced with a new pair that just... bursts out through his gums. They look the exact same but... they feel different. 

His tongue becomes a lot looser, bendable and can extend or shrink.  

His joints become extremely loose, like he can stretch his limbs beyond human levels, and sometimes it just looks like he doesnt have bones inside, just liquid. Flexible beyond belief, and doesnt technically need to breathe air. 

Mark realizes he doesnt need to eat or drink to survive, he has no idea what he actually runs on but he keeps going, he also keeps eating and drinking for comfort. 

Mark realizing he can rip himself open, survive and just watch his guts move about. His insides move around for comfort and safety, like, all his vital parts crawl up into his ribcage during fights.  

Viltrumites having more than one heart, but they arent perceivable by human standards, and they form a “heart” to fit the body standard they take. 

Marks eyes reflecting light like animals when you take pictures with flash on.  

Now, on to the oviposition. 

Actual alien viltrumites producing eggs to breed and further their species. Technically they could breed in a more human way, but their bodies much prefer eggs, both laying and carrying. 

Mark carries an “egg-sack” in his abdomen, kinda like a uterus. It doesn't really do anything unless his body is like “yo, mate, mates ready, mates fertile, go go go! Eggs! EGGS!!” and then start producing as quickly as possible because of their biology wanting to breed as much as possible. 

Mark starts having cramps, hes not really sure what it is in the beginning, maybe he just thinks hes stressed or constipated, until he wakes up and god fuck his dick is aching. It doesnt outright hurt but its uncomfortable, and so so wet. 

He would og into something like a heat or a rut, but its not completely like omegaverse. Instead, he starts sweating, salivating, his insides feel looser, his skin doesnt fit the same. His jaw feels uneven, he bites hard into his pillow cuz his jaws just clamp shut like an alligator.  

Mark would have no idea why hes aching but so fucking horny, his dick feels so heavy and his balls ache. Before he knows it, hes stumbled and flown to where the reader is staying, feeling like a salivating wolf. 

Actual alien vilrumite Mark tumbling in through the window, crumbling onto the floor and just immediately humping the carpet cuz the whole room smells like mate. His abdomen hurts even more, and it feels kind alike he has to pee but its so mcuh heavier and bigger. 

Insert reader being like, “what the hell is going on mark?”, and helping him up. The crotch of his shorts is just soaked, and when they finally get them wrestled down to check whats up, reader notices how flushed and wet Marks cock is. 

His slit looks raw and open, like, wide enough that you could push a finger inside and wiggle is about. Mark just starts rubbing his face into readers shoulder, drooling and whimpering, begging for the reader to take his ovum, cuz somehow his animal brain knows what it is. 

Readers not gonna let him just do whatever, cuz hes really out of it, so it just ends up with them on the bed, both sitting on their knees, marks back against the readers chest. And reader is just... kinda milking his dick into some container of some kind. 

The eggs are orbs, a bit bigger than a marble. Theyre solid but has a squishiness to them when you press on them. They are a cloudy white in color, and Marks cum is extra sticky when hes like this.  

The entire time, Mark is crying, both because it feels good, but also because hes so heartbroken that you won't take his ovum. He made them just for you, why won't you take them? Wasnt he so good for you? There are so many, there must be some that are good enough for you to take them, right? 

Later, you guys figure out through a lot of experimentation, that Mark starts producing “ovum” when you are “extra fertile”. It takes a while to figure out when this is, but apparently its if you jerk off and dont wash the evidence off, cuz the scent makes Marks biology go “oh, our mate must be ready for our clutch”. 

I think you guys also can change where the eggs go, like, if you top and Mark bottoms, then his body starts realizing “hey, we arent planting eggs anywhere, our mate is trying to inseminate ours” and then starts keeping them in his egg sack. Youd have to dock him to fertilize them though. 

Hes always losing control of his more human shape when this goes on, and you can mostly tell because he starts panting with his tongue out, and its long enough to lick his own chest without him even trying.

Always ends up with some really deep tongue kissing, cuz he ends up losing control of his tongue.

He might also just get extra worked up during spring, mostly cuz his body is going “oh, everyone else is fucking and breeding, we should too” 

He also just gets more red, like, hes sweating, flushed like hes been working out, but his sweat doesnt smell bad. Mark would get more clingy too, snuffling at the readers armpits, or anywhere else his sweat is strong, cuz thats where the readers scent is concentrated.  

[invincibledc]

“Lucky bastard”

(YJ version) Robin/Nightwing X Super!Reader

→Genre: Fluff

“Woah! I didn’t know you can cook a 5 star meal!” Wally said as he blitz over to check out the steak you made with asparagus. You only shrugged as you sit the place down, Wally immediately gobbled it up. Ending with him with a bloated belly filled with a good hot meal.

Robin walks in the kitchen to see you cleaning where you cooked as Wally looked at his best friend. “Dude! Sups over here can cook a mean dish. You gotta try their steak” he says. Robin smiled, “Aw man..wish I had my own plate when I came earlier..”

You rolled your eyes as you opened the microwave to pull out an extra plate of what Wally had. “I heard your stomach growling birdy. Eat up.” You put the plate gently on the counter as robin got a knife and fork to eat it. As he took the first bite, he went into flavor town as he couldn’t believe you made this. “Woah..”

“I know right dude! It’s amazing..you don’t mind if I take a small piece rig—” “NO BACK OFF WALLY!” Robin immediately covered his plate with his body. Eyes furrowed down, Wally backed away shock. “Woah man..didn’t know you were that hungry.” And with that, Wally sped off. Leaving you and Robin alone, you laughed at the speedster speeding away as Robin went ham mode on the steak.

Having steak juice running from his mouth made you cringe. You grabbed a paper towel as you inched towards him, wiping the juices off his mouth and side of his lips. You felt Robin tense with hearing his heart rate go up. The boy wonder slowly turns his head at you, you tried to ignore the teen’s stare as you wiped the last mess on his lips. Throwing away the paper towel, Robin caught your attention when he grabbed your wrist gently.

“Whoever marries you in the future is one lucky bastard.” He says with a smile, he then goes back to eating the steak and asparagus. You only laughed, walking out the kitchen as the boy wonder feed himself to what he feel inlove with.

Years later….

Dick was in his casual clothes as he looked outside the window, showing the beautiful night sky. He smiled, looking down at his left hand. That beautiful ring that shows off who he belongs to, that moment was ruined when his stomach growled. Dick groaned, sitting down in his bed as he wondered when dinner will be done.

But the gods have answered when your voice ran through the apartment

“DICK!! Dinner is done, I can hear that monster of your stomach calling for food!” You yelled, ending it with that beautiful laugh of yours. Dick’s eyes widened, getting up from the bed and running down the hall to the kitchen. There you were with an apron as Hailey barked seeing her human dad. “Ah it’s my favorite…the one that made me fall in love with you.” He pointed to the plate you held out to him.

“Steak and asparagus.” You both said, laughing before dick kissed you sweetly on your lips. You had to move the plate from you as dick then started to hungrily kiss you, having one hand on your lower back. Pushing your body towards him more. You had to break the kiss as dick laid his head on your shoulder.

“Cmon let’s eat, dick..” you said smiling, dick hummed. Smiling with a nod of his own he took his plate while you took yours.

He sure is a lucky bastard for life.

[raikagez]

Not Enough - Lois Lane x Kryptonian!Reader

summary: Lois Lane isn’t good at relationships. She’s terrified that she’s not enough. Not brave enough, not kind enough, not super enough. She’s spent her whole life being exceptional among humans, but next to Y/N, she feels ordinary. And Lois Lane has never been ordinary - she doesn’t know how to be loved for just being human.

warnings: none. Established Relationship, Angst with Happy Ending, Identity Issues.

notes: saw Superman a few days ago and wanted to write something special. I feel like I'm ranting a lot in this one, but I wanted this to be some kind of a start for more to come? I'd love to hear your suggestions and requests if you have any. Thank you for so much love on my previous fic! Anyways, I'll stop rambling. Happy reading!

Word Count - 3.4k

-----

The coffee maker hissed in the pre-dawn quiet of Y/N’s apartment, a sound that should have been comforting but instead felt like an accusation. Lois sat at the kitchen counter, laptop open, fingers hovering over keys that might as well have been a confession booth. The cursor blinked mockingly at her in the empty document.

Superman saves the day again, she could write. Local hero prevents catastrophe.

But how do you write about someone you love when you’re not sure you deserve to love them?

Outside, Metropolis slept under a blanket of stars that Y/N could probably count if they wanted to. Hell, they could probably fly up and touch them, bring one back as a souvenir if Lois asked. The thought should have been romantic. Instead, it felt like another reminder of the impossible distance between them - not in space, but in worth.

“You’re up early.” Y/N’s voice was soft with sleep, careful not to startle her. They always did that - moved with deliberate gentleness around her, as if she were made of something more fragile than the steel beams they bent with their bare hands.

Lois didn’t look up from her screen. “Perry’s being Perry.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Their editor had been breathing down her neck about the Superman piece, but that wasn’t why she’d been staring at a blank page for two hours. The real story—the one she couldn’t write, couldn’t speak, could barely think - was sitting right behind her, probably seeing the tension in her shoulders with those impossibly perfect eyes.

Y/N moved around the kitchen with practiced quiet, and Lois found herself cataloging every movement. The way they reached for the coffee filters without looking, muscle memory guiding hands that could crush diamonds. The slight tilt of their head as they listened to something she couldn’t hear - probably a cat stuck in a tree three neighborhoods over, or a car accident downtown, or a child crying for their mother in a language Y/N had learned in an afternoon because learning came as easily to them as breathing.

“Mhm.” Y/N set her coffee down, black no sugar, still too hot. They always got the temperature wrong - trying so hard to be normal when they were anything but.

“Thanks.” Another lie about sleeping. She’d spent most of the night watching Y/N, looking for proof they were as human as they claimed. Even unconscious, they were perfect - no snoring, no drooling. Just that faint warmth that always radiated from their skin.

The worst part was that Y/N didn’t even seem to realize how extraordinary they were. They worried about being late to work (as if they couldn’t fly there in seconds). They agonized over which tie to wear (as if anyone would dare criticize Superman’s fashion choices). They asked Lois if she thought they were putting on weight (as if their Kryptonian metabolism would ever allow such a thing).

It was endearing and heartbreaking and completely maddening all at once.

Y/N settled beside her, close enough that she could smell sleep and ozone. “Talk to me.”

“I’m fine.”

“Lois.” That tone - patient but firm, the same one they used with jumpers and hostage takers. “You’ve been weird for weeks.”

Pulling away. What a clinical way to describe the slow-motion disaster of her heart. Because that’s what this was, wasn’t it? The inevitable conclusion to every relationship she’d ever attempted, except this time the stakes weren’t just her pride or her comfort. This time, the person she was going to hurt was literally the best person in the world.

The thought made her stomach clench. She’d broken up with good people before - decent, kind, normal partners who deserved better than her sharp edges and trust issues. But Y/N wasn’t just good. They were good good. They were the person children drew pictures of, the person who made hardened cynics believe in heroes again, the person who had never once used their godlike power for personal gain.

And they were going to let her break their heart because they thought she was worth it.

“I’m not-“ She started to deny it, but Y/N’s expression stopped her. Not disappointed, not angry. Just…understanding. That was somehow worse.

“I know you,” Y/N said quietly. “I know when you’re building walls.”

The problem was, they did know her. Better than anyone had ever bothered to try. Y/N knew that she took her coffee black because she’d grown up poor and sugar was a luxury. They knew she checked the locks twice because her father had drilled paranoia into her bones. They knew she worked late because stillness felt too much like giving up.

Y/N knew all of this and somehow still chose to love her. It defied logic.

“Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.” The words came out sharper than intended.

Y/N flinched. Actually flinched. “Okay. What’s wrong?”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-“

“Don’t apologize. Just…tell me what I did.”

Lois stared into her coffee, watching the surface ripple with each breath. The apartment was so quiet she could hear the hum of the refrigerator, the distant sound of traffic beginning to build as the city woke up. Normal sounds for a normal morning, except nothing about this was normal.

How do you explain to someone who saves the world before breakfast that you feel like a fraud sitting next to them? How do you tell someone who chose to love humanity that you’re not sure you deserve to be part of it?

“You saved a cat yesterday.”

“…Okay?”

“From a burning building. Without thinking about it.”

Y/N frowned. “So?”

“I wouldn’t have.” The admission scraped her throat raw. “I would’ve thought about the risk, about whether it was worth it, about what people would say if Superman died saving a cat.”

“Lois-“

“I’m not good at this. At us. I’m selfish and I think too much and I-” She stood, needing space. “I’m ordinary.”

The word hung between them like a confession.

She walked to the window. “While you were stopping that tsunami in Japan, I wrote about mayoral corruption. And I was proud of it. Proud of my little exposé while you were saving thousands.”

“That’s not-“

“It is.” Her breath fogged the glass. “I used to be special. The reporter who got impossible stories. But next to you? I’m just another person who needs saving.”

She pressed her forehead against the cool window. “I can’t even help you. When you’re hurt, I can’t heal you. When you’re sad, I can’t fly you somewhere better. I bring you tea and rub your shoulders like some… like a pet trying to comfort its owner. Well-meaning but ultimately useless.”

The silence stretched between them, and Lois closed her eyes, waiting for Y/N to finally realize what she’d been trying to tell them. That she wasn’t worth this. That they deserved someone as extraordinary as they were, someone who could stand beside them as an equal rather than always looking up from the ground.

“Remember when we first met? At that construction site?”

She did. She’d been investigating safety violations when the scaffolding collapsed. Y/N had caught the falling steel, but instead of flying away, they’d stayed. Helped workers gather tools, listened to concerns, asked good questions.

Later, they’d approached her. “You’re Lois Lane. I read your water contamination series.”

She’d been surprised. “You read my stuff?” Lois had been surprised. Superman reading her articles seemed as likely as the Pope following her on Twitter.

“Brilliant work. You probably saved more lives than I do most weeks.”

“Right.” She’d laughed, thinking they were being polite.

But Y/N had been serious. “I catch falling planes, but I can’t fix systemic problems. I can’t change minds or give people information to make better choices. I save someone from a building, but you? You prevent the fire.”

“Nice thought. But people still get sick. Workers still get hurt. I write about problems, I don’t solve them.”

“Neither do I.” Something raw in Y/N’s voice made her turn. They looked smaller somehow, shoulders slumped. “You know how many disasters I prevent that were caused by stuff you wrote about? How many accidents I stop that your reporting could’ve prevented?”

They moved closer. “You think I save people? I catch them after they fall. You try to fix the ground before they slip.”

“But I fail. All the time. Stories I can’t break, sources who won’t talk, editors killing pieces. When you fail, it’s because something was impossible. When I fail, it’s because I’m not good enough.”

“You think I don’t fail?” Y/N sounded incredulous. “Every person I don’t save, every disaster I can’t prevent, every problem too big for punching. I fail every day. The difference is mine make the news.”

They took another step closer. “Do you know what I was doing before I met you? Just… existing. Flying around, stopping the obvious disasters, then going home to an empty apartment to feel guilty about everything I wasn’t doing. I was Superman, but I wasn’t really living.”

Lois wanted to argue, to point out that Y/N had been saving lives and giving people hope, but they continued before she could speak.

“You taught me how to see the stories behind the headlines. How to understand that the building collapse wasn’t just an accident - it was part of a pattern of negligence and greed. You taught me that catching the falling debris was just the beginning, that the real work was understanding why it fell in the first place.”

“Y/N-”

“Not done.” Gentle but firm. “You want ordinary? Ordinary walks past suffering because it’s not their job. Ordinary accepts corruption because fighting’s too hard. Ordinary gives up when it gets complicated.”

They were close enough to touch now. “You’ve never done any of that. You see injustice and you fight it with just your brain and your stubbornness and your complete refusal to let bad people win. No powers, no heat vision, no flying. But you have something I’ll never have - you chose to be good.”

Tears threatened. “That’s just being human.”

Exactly." Y/N's voice was so soft, so certain. "Do you have any idea what it's like to be me? To know you could solve most of the world's problems with enough time and effort, but also know that doing so would rob humanity of the chance to solve them themselves? To love people but never be sure if they love you back or just the idea of what you represent?

Y/N touched her hand, fingers warm and slightly calloused. “You love me when I’m clumsy with coffee. When I get excited about dogs. When I spend forever picking identical shirts because I don’t want to accidentally influence someone’s day. You love who I am when I take off the cape.”

“But I can’t save people. Can’t fly or-”

“You save me. Every day.”

“I don’t understand.”

Y/N was quiet for a moment, and Lois could practically see them searching for the right words. They did this sometimes - paused to consider their response with the same care they used when defusing bombs or talking down hostage situations.

“Remember when I told you who I really was?” Y/N asked.

Of course she remembered. Six weeks in. She’d been getting suspicious - Y/N’s weird hours, convenient excuses, never getting sick. She’d been prepared for cheating or witness protection. Not for them to take off their glasses and suddenly look exactly like Superman.

“I was terrified. Not of telling you, but of what happened after. Everyone else treated me differently. Like I was glass, or too important for normal things, or like I owed them something.”

Y/N squeezed her hand. “But you looked at me and said, ‘Well, that explains the bad lying.’ Then asked if I wanted more wine.”

She remembered. Shocked, but mostly relieved. All Y/N’s weird behavior finally made sense.

“You treated me exactly the same. Still argued about movies, still stole my fries, still made fun of my jokes. You saw Superman and chose to love me.”

“Because that’s who you are. The suit doesn’t change your personality.”

“Exactly.” Y/N’s smile was crooked, uncertain, wonderfully human. “Everyone sees powers first, person second. You’ve always seen it backwards.”

“That’s just-”

“Love. Real love. Not based on what someone can do for you or how they make you look. You love me for who I am, not what I am. You know how rare that is?”

The tears spilled over. “But I’m not enough. Can’t keep up, can’t contribute. I’m just normal.”

“Oh, Lois.” So gentle. “You don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“You’re not dating Superman. You’re dating me, Y/N Kent.”

The words hit like a punch. She stared.

“Superman’s what I do, not who I am. Who I am is someone from Kansas who calls their parents every Sunday, cries at dog movies, gets nervous before interviews at the Planet. Who I am loves a brilliant reporter who sees the best in people when they can’t see it in themselves.”

Y/N cupped her face, thumbs wiping tears. “Superman dates Lois Lane, famous reporter, award winner. But Y/N Kent loves Lois - just Lois - who leaves coffee rings on my table and steals my hoodies and yells at cooking shows.”

“I do steal your hoodies.”

“I know. I buy them in colors you’ll like.”

She laughed despite the tears. “Manipulative.”

“Learned from the best. You manipulate sources into truth, I manipulate my girlfriend into wearing my clothes.”

“I’m not your girlfriend.” The words slipped out, and she immediately regretted them.

Y/N’s face flickered with hurt. “What are we then?”

Fair question. Three months, keys to apartments, meeting parents. Martha Kent had definitely not bought the “friend from work” thing.

“I don’t know. Something more. Something scarier.”

“Good. If it wasn’t scary, it wouldn’t be worth it.”

They leaned forward, foreheads touching. Close enough to count eyelashes, to feel their heartbeat.

“I don’t know how to do this. How to love someone who could have anyone.”

“You think I could have anyone?”

“You’re Superman.”

“Superman could have anyone. But Superman isn’t real. People love the symbol, the idea. They don’t love Superman’s bad movie taste or how Superman leaves dishes in the sink.”

Y/N pulled back slightly. “You’re the only person who’s ever loved all of me. The world-saving parts and the forget-to-take-out-trash parts. You make me feel like I don’t have to choose between being Superman and being myself.”

“But what if I mess this up?” The words tumbled out before Lois could stop them. “What if I get jealous of your work, or tired of sharing you with the world, or resentful that I can’t help you the way you deserve? What if I hurt you the way everyone else has?”

“Then we’ll figure it out,” Y/N said simply. “Together. That’s what people do when they love each other-they figure it out.”

“People, yes. But I’m not sure this counts as a normal relationship.”

“Good thing I’m not looking for normal.” Y/N’s smile was soft, almost shy. “I’m looking for you. Stubborn, brilliant, impossible you, who argues with me about everything and makes me laugh and sees through all my careful disguises.”

Outside, Metropolis was fully awake now-car horns and construction noise and the endless bustle of eight million people starting their day. Soon, the city would need Superman. The police scanner on Y/N’s kitchen counter would crackle to life with reports of accidents and emergencies and disasters that required superhuman intervention.

But right now, in the quiet of their kitchen, Y/N Kent was exactly where they wanted to be.

And maybe, Lois thought as she leaned into their warmth, that was enough. Maybe she was enough.

Maybe ordinary was exactly what a hero needed to come home to.

“I love you,” she said, the words feeling both enormous and inevitable. “I love you, and it terrifies me, and I’m probably going to be terrible at this, but I love you.”

“I love you too,” Y/N replied, and their voice was steady, certain. “All of you. The parts that shine and the parts that doubt themselves and everything in between.”

“Even when I’m being neurotic and insecure?”

“Especially then. Because that’s when you need love the most.”

Lois felt something settle in her chest, a knot of tension she’d been carrying for weeks finally beginning to loosen. She wasn’t fixed - the insecurities were still there, the fear that she wasn’t enough would probably always lurk in the corners of her mind. But for the first time, she could imagine learning to live with those feelings instead of being ruled by them.

“I have to go soon,” Y/N said reluctantly, nodding toward the police scanner. “There’s a situation developing downtown.”

“I know.” And she did know. She could see it in the subtle shift of Y/N’s posture, the way their head tilted slightly as they listened to something only they could hear. “Go save the world. I’ll be here when you get back.”

“Promise?”

The question was casual, but Lois heard the real worry underneath it. Y/N had been abandoned before, had come home to empty apartments and Dear John letters and the kind of betrayal that left scars.

“Promise,” she said firmly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Y/N kissed her then, soft and sweet and full of relief. When they pulled away, Lois could see Y/N Kent fading as Superman took their place - subtle changes in posture and expression that transformed her awkward, coffee-making partner into the symbol of hope the world needed.

But underneath it all, they were still Y/N. Still the person who worried about getting her coffee temperature right, who left little notes in her lunch bag, who had learned to love her exactly as she was.

“Be careful,” Lois said, straightening Y/N’s tie with practiced ease.

“Always am.”

“Liar.”

Y/N grinned, and for a moment they were just themselves again. “I love you too, Lois Lane.”

And then they were gone, a blur of red and blue disappearing through the window toward whatever crisis awaited them. Lois watched until they were just a speck against the morning sky, then turned back to her laptop.

The cursor was still blinking in the empty document, but now she knew what to write. Not about Superman’s latest rescue or the city’s gratitude, but about the courage it takes to be human in a world that demands heroes. About learning to love yourself through someone else’s eyes. About being enough, exactly as you are.

She began to type:

Superman saves the day again. But this isn’t a story about Superman - it’s a story about the rest of us. About what it means to be ordinary in an extraordinary world, and why that might be the most super thing of all…

The words flowed easily now, her fingers flying across the keys as she wrote about heroism and humanity, about the power of choosing to care in a world that often rewarded indifference. She wrote about love that transcended power and status, about finding worth in being rather than doing.

She wrote about learning that sometimes the most extraordinary thing you can do is simply be yourself.

Hours later, when Y/N returned home with soot in their hair and gratitude in their eyes, they found Lois exactly where they’d left her-at the kitchen counter, typing furiously, completely absorbed in her work.

“How did it go?” she asked without looking up.

“Good. Everyone’s safe.” Y/N moved behind her, reading over her shoulder. “What are you working on?”

“A love story,” Lois said, finally meeting their eyes. “About a reporter who learns that being human is enough.”

Y/N smiled, that perfect imperfect smile that was entirely their own. “Sounds like a hell of a story.”

“It is,” Lois agreed, reaching up to touch their face. “Want to help me write the ending?”

“I thought you said you weren’t good at relationships.”

“I’m not,” Lois admitted. “But I’m good at learning. And I have an excellent teacher.”

Outside, Metropolis hummed with life and possibility, a city full of ordinary people doing extraordinary things in small, human ways. And in a kitchen filled with morning light and the promise of forever, two people who had found each other across impossible odds settled in to figure out what came next.

Together.

-----

This was inspired by the idea that sometimes the hardest person to save is yourself, and sometimes the most super thing you can do is just be human. The real strength isn't in powers or abilities, but in choosing to love and be loved despite all our fears and insecurities. Thank you for reading! Again, I'm sorry if this came off more as a ramble rather than a self-insert fanfic, but as I already said, if you have any specific requests, please shoot me a message! I'd love to interact with you guys.

Best,

Raikagez

[chikaras-garden]

Just thought of something and it can be with any of the bat boys

Right, so they're fucking in a risky place, and reader is trying to be quiet. And one of the batboys says "I don't want you to be quiet. I wanna here ever single fucking noise that's comes from those pretty lips"

-🌟

“Any bat boy” = Dick = I got sooooo carried away. 🌟 you're such a genius omg

You thought you’d like galas. You’ve never been to one, but what you imagined was nothing short of the fairy tales and princess stories humans are so fond of—and, admittedly, you’ve kind of grown attached to.

But, well. You’re wobbly on your feet, uncoordinated when you’re usually so sure and graceful, and entirely at the mercy of the man who invited you to the Wayne Foundation Gala.

“Dick,” you murmur, tugging on the sleeve covering to the arm you’re perched on. He hums in reply, barely glancing at you; his free hand is buried in his pocket, and your breath catches when you realize what he’s doing.

The dizzying heat in your mind backs off for just a second, and the lack of sensation between your thighs brings feeling back to your legs. You let out a shaky breath and lean your head on his shoulder, then close your eyes when a gentle hand rubs against your lower back.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” he murmurs as if he’s not the one who, just an hour ago, fingered you open and stuffed a remote vibrator inside you, then made you dress for the gala and pretend everything is fine while he held the controls in his pocket.

“I can’t,” you whimper, trying to conceal your distress from the judgy wives with way too much influence that flit around you like wasps.

His lips brush against your hairline. It’s innocent, like a man who’s endearingly infatuated with his beautiful date—but you know better. “Can’t what?”

“Be here,” you press, annoyed that he’s being so purposefully obtuse. But if you’re so annoyed, why are your pussy lips clinging to the toy, fluttering and kissing the silicone as if you’re desperate for more stimulation, not less. “I can’t not— I can’t be quiet, Dick.”

Incredulously, he raises a brow, and his eyes are sharp and dangerous—but still safe and comforting. He challenges you with, “I don’t want you to be quiet.”

“But—”

He leans in and kisses just behind your ear, taking his public display of affection just a little further; behind you, you think you hear someone coo at the adorable couple.

The toy leaps to life again and you gasp, twisting yourself to hide as much of your face as you can in Dick’s neck—where you feel him chuckle. He’s holding you with one hand, steady and strong, but you know that his other hand is responsible for your slow torture.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, low and dark. “Let me hear you. I want to hear every single noise that comes from those pretty lips. You can do that for me, can’t you, pretty girl?”

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

Oh!

Oh!

Pick me!!!

Pick me!!!

Can you do Dick Grayson, Rivals to Lovers?! Or Geralt with the Marriage Pack?!?! Maybe both?!

.⋆｡Sunny Disposition｡⋆.

7k follower bingo

Dick Grayson x kryptonian!reader

Golden Boy and Golden Girl, both the perfect reflections of their fathers, both incredible heroes and people, it would be perfect if they got along, too bad they don’t

Warnings: plus size reader, rivals/enemies to lovers?, insecurities, little bit of oldest child syndrome, reader is superman’s daughter, implied smut, insults, angst WC: 1.4k Minors DNI Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You pissed him off, and he was not easy to piss off, at least according to him. Dick was supposed to be the reasonable one, the leader, and— not that he would admit it out loud— the Golden Hero. And he was, from the moment the Teen Titans were created, yet now there was a contender for his title.

“I’m not sure this is the right way to be going about this. There are too many unsecured exits and the metro tunnels are right beneath the main warehouse.” It was a good point, to be fair, but Dick really didn’t feel like being fair. You stood at the opposite end of the table, shoulder-to-shoulder with your father who nodded approvingly.

“That’s what the explosives are for,” you opened your mouth to further protest but Dick cut you off before you could even take a breath, “I don’t even know why you’re here, I don’t need any Kryptonians to get this done, you’re just getting in the way at this point.” 

The red that briefly flashed over your eyes had him smirking internally. He was getting close to cracking through that goodie two shoes exterior and showing how you really were to the rest of the League. But you just smiled at him, that girl-next-door smile that had somehow won over the hearts of all of his friends and even his father, and dropped your arms down to your sides in a clear message; ‘I’m taking the high road’.

“If you stuck me down there instead of the bombs, I could make sure no one got out and no civilians hurt without destroying any infrastructure. I just want to help, Nightwing.” 

“Oh, like you helped in Paris? How is the city reconstruction going by the way?” Superman clapped a hand onto your shoulder but you didn’t budge, he knew you wouldn’t. You were too much like himself, Dick thinks, too devoted to your duties as both a hero and an older sibling but the rose-coloured glasses you refused to even consider taking off had blinded you to exactly what the world was capable of. Dick wondered if a night patrolling in Gotham would fix that but he doubted even that could slap you with any form of reality.

“Better than Star City.” You mumbled and suddenly, something in him snapped.

“Yeah well, you know how you could help, if you went and fucked yourself.“

“Oh real mature. Are you sure you can actually run a mission with your head so far up your butt?”

“At least I don’t need daddy to come in and save me when I fuck up.”

“Stop it.” Batman’s voice sliced through the meeting room. You smirked victoriously before the cold white eyes of his mask turned towards you. “Both of you. This is neither the time nor place for childish competitions and insults.”

“But he started it!” “She’s the one that doesn’t listen!” 

“He’s right, this rivalry has gone on long enough. It’s interfering with your jobs.” Superman, ever the peace-maker, gently explained. “We will take care of the Joker while you two sort out whatever issues you have.”

“That’s not fair!” You both shouted at the same time yet your protest fell on deaf ears. Already, the two older heroes were headed for the door and ever the obedient children you were, you stayed put despite your hatred for each other.

“Don’t destroy my computer.” Were Batman’s parting words before the door slid closed behind him and locked with a distinctive thunk. 

This time when Dick faced you, your eyes blazed red. He almost expected to feel the boiling heat of them even from across the room but just as quickly as your anger had sparked up, it fizzled out, leaving you slumped over on the table. The material of your cape fluttered over your shoulders, making you look like a child being covered by their parent’s clothes.

“I hate you.” Your voice held no conviction, a lie you had told yourself over and over to make yourself believe it. 

“Feeling’s mutual.” His cheeks burned with the fib, collapsing into the chair directly across from you. He let himself observe you, for just a moment, the slope of your shoulders, the colour of your hair under the harsh lighting of the room, the way that he could just make out the curve of your ass from this angle. His gaze quickly flicked away when you huffed, planting yourself in a chair instead.

Silence pressed down on the both of you, squeezing tighter and tighter until the awkward tension was too much to bear. You broke first.

“It was a good plan.”

Dick snorted. “No it wasn’t. I didn’t even think about the tunnels, I was gonna use the explosives for the main entrance.” The smile that you gave him then was something new, soft and warm. You eased back into the seat, your eyes fluttering shut. 

“I would’ve done the same.”

“You would’ve punched your way in like the Kool-aid man, I at least use doors.”

“You go in through the window about 9 times out of 10.” Dick kicked a foot up onto the table. 

“And how would you know that? Are you obsessed with me? Cause it’s cool if you are, I have plenty of fangirls, you can join their club.” Your glare made his heart skip a beat.

“And what’s the average age of the women in your little fan club? 75?” 

“62 thank you very much.”

“Oh I’m sorry.” You couldn’t hold the fake apology for long, breaking out into a fit of giggles. 

Dick cleared his throat, his expression becoming sullen. “Sorry I brought up Paris, it wasn’t your fault. It was a bad call to send you on your first solo mission with Supes being on the other side of the Galaxy, that’s on me.”

“So self-sacrificing. At most, it was Batman’s fault, when have I ever listened to your orders.” You pointed out, though he saw through it, you did blame him a little but you mostly blamed yourself. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry about mentioning Star City, and the butt comment, Dad says I’m too petty sometimes.”

“Everyone is petty next to fucking Superman, man’s practically a saint.” You rolled your eyes in disagreement but made no effort to interrupt him. “B says I blow things out of proportion a lot so I’d say we even each other out pretty well.”

“And yet we always end up screaming at each other if we’re in the same room for more than thirty minutes.” 

“We do.” He sighed.

“At this rate we’re both going to get pulled from missions, so what are we gonna do about it?” 

“We could spar? But then it wouldn’t be a fair fight, you know, cause I’m a lot stronger than you.” You scoffed before your eyes lit up and for just a moment, Dick was terrified that you would accept. 

“We could make love.”

A burst of excitement ran through him but his mouth obviously didn’t get the message. “Make love? Who says make love? Are you 80?” Your smile dropped. Dick scrambled off the chair and rushed to your side, plucking your hand from the table before you could snatch it away. “Sorry, sorry. That was a knee-jerk reaction. Yes, I really want to ‘make love’ to you, like seriously, do you even realise how hot you are?”

Your expression didn’t waver, unimpressed. Dick took a deep breath. “And how intelligent and kind and generally wonderful half-human you are? It would be a privilege to be intimate with you even if- though I’ve been an asshole to you.” Your hand relaxed in his grip, letting your fingers lace together.

You looked down at him through your lashes, suddenly more bashful than he had ever seen you. “You really mean that?” 

“Yeah, I do.” You reached your free hand out and gently pulled off his domino mask.

“I think you’re kind of nice.” He raised a dark eyebrow at you. “Alright, you’re mostly nice, with a really good butt.” 

He surged forwards and kissed you with everything he had. You met him with equal enthusiasm, pulling him closer and closer until your noses squished together and your tongues tangled. He grabbed at your plump hips, dragging you to the edge of your chair as he fully sank to his knees. You followed him down as best you could until his fingers plucked at the band of your suit’s pants.

“Let me take care of you, you just have to do one thing for me.” The latex-like material slid down your legs, leaving you exposed to his hungry gaze.

“What?” You breathed, lifting your hips just enough for him to take off your soaked panties as you buried a hand into his unruly curls.

“Say fuck, just once.” You glared down at him before pulling his mouth to your core.

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[hattersrabbit]

GOODNESS INCARNATE

yandere avengers x kryptonian! reader | sfw

CW! male reader, can be seen as either platonic or romantic, toxic behavior, overprotective avengers, obsessive behavior, golden retriever! reader, ambiguous ending

Summary! at some point something fell from earth and crashed into earth. A new hero rises up in the city of Metropolis and catches the eye of Earth’s Mightiest Defenders, and it ends up getting a bit too far.

✎ᝰ.don’t ask about the timeline or anything call it an au where endgame doesn’t happen :D

next | series

˖꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷꒦꒷꒦︶꒷꒦︶ ๋ ࣭ ⭑꒷

Somewhere in Kansas a space shuttle fell to earth. It was never found, but the couple said to be incapable of having children had a child, and a dog too.

A child that was above from normal. That being you. An alien from the planet Krypton that had died. You and your dog, Krypto being the only one of your kind.

The last surviving Kryptonians.

Your new parents were a joy to have. You loved them and they raised you very protectively, and in return you cared for them.

With your strength, and Krypto you helped save your city Metropolis for the first time. The massive billionaire Lex Luthor caused massive damage and almost killed a bunch of people if not for you.

Dressed in blue and red you were a symbol of hope. The S across your chest being a family crest. One of the last of your parents own existence.

The people loved you, and you find the world was interested in you. A hero that came out of nowhere.

And certainly you were loved. Nick Fury couldn’t deny the need to get you on the team of train wrecks.

In fact, it could all be seen all the way to a Spider Boy who could only look at the footage in awe. The hero was someone who Peter Parker aimed to be.

Beside him was Wanda, the Scarlet Witch who looked on with awe in her eyes as well. As a woman who’s gone after bad thing after bad thing she couldn’t help but want goodness.

You were goodness. She could feel it, even if it was through a video.

Tony was apprehensive but even so he never seen someone so good. It was like you never faced horror ever. Your kindness and not a hint of showing off, or playing around while fighting.

Determination.

Captain America; Steve Rogers saw himself in you. Goodness that he could never achieve. One that smiled despite it all, while somberness swallowed him into a boastful mouth.

Bucky would have to agree. He was smiling once back then, and you were literal sunshine. A smile on those lips with such natural strength, and treating civilians with such kindness.

Thor found you adorable, and could feel that you were worthy of his hammer. Even through videos of you he felt like you were worthy. Absolutely beautiful he also thought. What man could fly through the air so gracefully like that. Without a care, and just as quick.

Natasha and Clint admired you. Albeit maybe it was a sense of something they never got. A man who hadn’t ever killed in his life, and was smiling. A sense of light they never got, and there you were.

Sunshine for them to bask themselves in.

Bruce felt wary but you were strong. No anger seemed to be in your body. Surely yes you seemed angry at Lex Luthor but that was for obvious reasons. You weren’t always angry like him. Angry only when necessary, unlike him.

Control of yourself is what you had.

A semblance of this world is that it was corrupt. A source of true good like you, and while you weren’t of them you believed in good.

Good in human beings.

The avengers knew better.

So when you’re recruited they aimed to make sure you’d ease into that reality. When offered the chance you jumped at it.

Imagine the surprise when Krypto arrived by your side. The avengers were no less taken aback and flustered.

You smiled big and wide. Nothing to hide and kind to them all.

Unbeknownst to you the immediate thought of you changed. A being that was good and needed to be protected. This group had been through terrible things, and it brought them down.

Made them turn darker.

Wanda knew that better than anyone.

Bucky hated himself for it.

Peter remembered the days when people knew of him, and how in those last moments back then he almost committed true murder.

They hid it well.

Steve would greet you with open arms and a welcoming smile, “Welcome to the team!” He would pat you on the shoulder. He would blink when it felt like metal.

You would laugh brightly, and saying a lot of people said that. Although it wasn’t like you were gonna say you were an alien. Not yet anyway.

They would find out anyway. Thanking Wanda for that, for she read your mind.

Imagine the wonder Peter had when he talked to you. Over the years now that he was Spider-Man he had lost his once happy attitude in being a hero.

You a little older than him was still hopeful, and hadn’t started as a teenager. You were hopeful and Peter couldn’t help but admire you. That smile; the one he lost and you still had it.

You can’t blame him when he stole one of your notebooks. The pages had tons of notes of your perceived faults and self-hatred. Don’t blame him when he shows Steve and Tony.

Don’t mind the confusion when the entire team is praising you more than usual. Any time you lift something instead of the Hulk Bruce smiles. His anger dismissed and he’s praising you despite his shy nature.

Don’t be surprised when you get hurt and spit blood that you get tested by the scientist. Tony even going as far as tweaking your suit to make sure you’re more protected. It was sweet, but useless venture to say you didn’t need it.

Of course you needed it. You were young, and even had fewer experience than Peter. You had no idea what you were talking about. Bruce and Tony were older.

They knew better, and told you that.

Naively, you shrugged it off. Krypto would only tilt his head at the them, and albeit he became much more close to you.

Wanda didn’t seem to like the change.

Once or twice Krypto would stare at her. ‘Try it.’ The dog was protective and a nuisance. He could feel the darkness. The woman was more susceptible to the darkness. The obsession of getting you to herself.

The others so far, Bruce and Tony already got hands on you when you got injured. Although never really seemed to look into your mind. What if you got brain damage?

She could fix it. Her magic would change it from affecting you. Peter had too much time with you. She was more your age, so you should be with her.

In a way you reminded her of Vision. Kind and understanding. Normalcy that she begged for and clung to.

Maybe she could change the dog but you would notice. It would make you sad, and she didn’t want that. Surely she was wanting you to herself, but your happiness also mattered.

She would be careful.

Get Krypto’s trust was her plan.

The two who have killed before were floored with the kindness. With the protectiveness you gave them.

In act of almost being killed you rang over them with your huge size and protecting them in the blast. Your scream of pain was loud in their ears.

Thor heard it loud and clear. The enemy was on the floor in seconds. Too brutal for normal, and you questioned Thor.

The god gave an excuse that you completely fell for. Too sweet and naive for this world. A sheltered kid in the Midwest fields, with protective parents.

Still too unforgiving of this horrible world.

Thor couldn’t tell you that he almost aimed to kill the attacker.

Natasha would share a look with him.

They knew. Murder was out of the question, but when you screamed like that they knew that maybe maiming was the move. Clint would talk to you as the two discussed what to do with the assailant.

Hearing the news Bucky would want to check over your wounds. There were none but it didn't stop him from getting those mental fingers on your bare skin.

You would shiver. Cold against your warm skin. Shining like the sun Bucky would think. Steve would look too.

A body like his own and invincible to harm.

At least they thought.

Kryptonite was horrible. Lex Luthor's laugh haunted them. You on the floor and holding your chest. Blood flowing from your mouth and a bullet in your chest.

Bruce was terrified.

Peter and Wanda beside themselves.

And so when you awake from your slumber don't ask about the disappearance of Lex Luthor. Don't ask why you can't hear his distinct heat beat.

Don't ask your still on bed rest, and Krypto is so much more hostile towards everyone now. Wary of Wanda and her glares to your dog.

Don't ask why Bruce's lingering touch stayed.

Don't ask why your mind seemed played with.

Don't bother with the protective members who've been known to kill before to be so close to you.

Don’t tell Peter to leave your side. Don't ask Steve to stop defending your city, Metropolis.

All the avengers ask of you is to keep that smile on your face no matter how confused you are.

To keep there goodness, and to never be corrupted.

To be good.