summary: clark has a habit of spoiling you, even more so when you have a rough day
wc: 1.7k +
a/n: this is based on a request, which can be found here! I have a few more fics in the queue that should be coming out throughout the week, so keep an eye out! I hope you enjoy, and please feel free to send any requests my way!
warnings: slightly suggestive situation (very slightly), clark is a love bug who worries incessantly, you are so sweet to each other it's sickening
The first item on the Jimmy Olsen best friends agreement is free relationship advice. Clark has a habit of not taking him up on, well, any of it. “Wait at least a few hours to respond.” He’s replied to your questions about takeout in the middle of fighting a giant robot deadset on trampling half of Metropolis. “Let her come to you, man.” Clark frequently broke into your apartment to make sure that dinner was waiting for you as soon as you walked through the door. “Don’t limit yourself, play the field.” Clark had decided he was going to marry you after your first date, and there’d been a ring shoved in the back of his closet ever since your three month anniversary. Jimmy had changed Clark’s name in his phone to mother hen for a time, and worst of all? Clark couldn’t really argue against it.
He hovered, literally and figuratively. When he was worried, he felt like he was buzzing, and the only way that he’d found to keep himself from instantly scanning the entire city was to fly in circles around your apartment. If it’d been longer than ten minutes without you getting back to him, he gave himself a pass and used his super hearing to check in. You’d never actually been in danger, usually just busy or with a friend, but he couldn’t bring himself to chance you needing him and not be there for you.
When you were having a rough day, he hovered in the more traditionally human sense of the word. Soup made from scratch, warm baths with your favorite scented bubbles. Which is how you’d ended up in your current predicament, head burrowed into Clark’s chest while his hands traced soothing lines up and down your spine. His cheek was squished against the crown of your head and you’d unconsciously timed your breathing with the gentle thuds of his heart.
“How ya doin’?” his voice was soft, as if he was afraid to disturb the peace that had settled around the both of you.
Your arms tightened around his waist, and you scootched even closer to him. “Much better now. Thank you, Clark.”
His chest shook with silent laughter, one hand moving to hold you where your head meets your neck. “Haven’t even done anything yet.”
You pulled back, eyes wide and confused. “What are you talking about?”
He smiled, your noses nearly touching. Your hand unconsciously rose to touch the crinkles at the side of his eyes, his dimples. You can’t help but marvel at him, this kind, soft man you’d managed to swindle into loving you by some otherworldly miracle. “You had a hard day, honey. Gotta let me take care of you.”
Your foreheads met gently. “You’re already taking care of me.” And that was the truth. You’d come home, tears in your eyes. It had been a horrible, no good, absolutely awful day. You were running late for work, and then splashed by a cab hitting a huge puddle on your way there. Your lunch salad had gone wilty and on top of all that, you’d forgotten that it was date night until you’d seen him waiting in your living room, a fresh bouquet of flowers on the table and his button up’s sleeves rolled up on his forearms.
And Clark hadn’t missed a beat. He changed into comfy clothes in the literal blink of an eye, and he’d put your favorite pajamas in the dryer to warm up. Then, he’d led you into the bathroom, turning on the shower and sprinkling a few drops of essential oil on the floor for you. A kiss to one temple, and then the other one for good measure before he told you to take your time and stepped out. A shower was the last thing on your mind, despite the previous puddle incident, but as the steam enveloped you, you could feel the tension draining from your muscles. When you were all done and squeaky clean, he wrapped you in a warm towel and helped you slather yourself in lotion. He’d gently guided your arms through your pajama top and helped you step into your shorts before pulling you onto the couch and settling you against him. At this point, you were in a better mood than you’d managed all day. And somehow, Clark seemed to think he hadn’t even gotten started yet.
He began to sway you gently side to side, his hands supporting your head. Your eyes fluttered shut with the soothing motion, a contented sigh escaping from your lips. “I have pizza on the way, and your heating pad is already on in the bed.”
All you could do was grin from where you were tucked into the hollow of his throat. “You’re spoiling me again.”
He sighed, but didn’t dignify that with a response. “Are we thinking Singin’ in the Rain or Princess Diaries tonight?”
“This is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re ruining me for future partners.”
“Oh, there are going to be future partners, are there?” he asked, laughter coloring the edges of his voice. He clearly wasn’t taking you seriously, not stopping his rocking motions and only pulling you closer.
“Oh yeah, tons.” you grumbled. He could feel you smirking against him, you knew it.
“I guess I’m going to start using my powers for evil, in that case.” He mumbled into your hair.
“I believe that even less than I believe I’m ever going to let you go.”
Clark’s arms tightened around you in response. The two of you sat like that for a few more moments, quietly tangled up in the other. There was a small knock at the door, but somehow neither of you startled. “I told them to leave it at the door. Let’s give it a few seconds.”
You nodded, breathing in his cologne and playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. You weren’t sure how that didn’t tickle, but you weren’t going to complain. Eventually, Clark’s arm wrapped around you, gently picking you up and adjusting you so that your legs were on either side of his waist. He stood, hand slipping around the backs of your thighs and holding you close.
“You’re ridiculous.” you murmured, voice muffled against his shoulder while your arms looped around his neck.
“Mmhmm,” Clark agreed, but made no motion to put you down as he swung the front door open and grabbed the pizza box from the small side table beside your door. He gently placed you on the kitchen counter, and the box beside you. He opened it to reveal your favorite and you were unsurprised. He was nothing if not incredibly observant.
You grabbed a slice and took a bite, leaning against Clark for support. The silence that settled around you both was comfortable and familiar as ever. You both worked your way through the pizza, and you only caught Clark checking you over for signs of discomfort twice, which felt like a lot of improvement for both of you.
When you were done, Clark framed your face with his hands. His eyes searched yours for a moment before he nodded to himself, clearly pleased with his assessment. He offered you a hand, helping you down from the counter. You took it easy on him and held back from pointing out that you were definitely capable of doing that yourself.
He led you into the bathroom, and only let go of your hand when you reached for your toothbrush. You and Clark fell into your normal routine, brushing your teeth with shoulders bumping, Clark using a soft cloth to wipe away the bubbles of your facewash. You smoothed moisturizer across his cheeks and he sealed in your skincare routine with a kiss on your hairline, careful to avoid disrupting your freshly applied products.
He pulled down the covers for you, pillows already arranged in the pattern that you favored most nights. He made a show of pulling the covers up to your chin and tucking the blankets tight against your side. You broke into peals of giggles, the gesture ridiculous when both of you knew Clark would pull you against his chest as soon as he rounded the bed. The grin that spread across his face made your heart stutter. His eyes crinkled, and it was clear he’d heard. You didn’t even have it in you to feel bashful about it.
Like clockwork, Clark slid into bed beside you and you were quickly arranged with your back flush against his chest, one arm thrown over your stomach while you played with his fingers. You snuggled back against him, a contended sigh escaping your mouth. After what could have been a few moments or an eternity, you placed a kiss gently on the back of his hand. He squeezed you impossibly tighter against him.
You take a breath, a thank you already on the tip of your tongue. Clark beats you to it. “You don’t have to thank me.” You crane your neck to catch his eyes, quirking a disbelieving eyebrow at him. His arm around your waist only tightened, a contented smile turning the corners of his lips up. “This was more for me than you,” he sounded sleepy, eyes half closed.
You couldn’t help the cackle that shook your whole body. Clark held tight through it all. When you managed to calm your laughter, you turned to see him still clinging to you like the world’s most overgrown koala. “You’re a saint but I somehow find that hard to believe.”
“I sleep better when I know you're happy.” Your heart lurched at his sleepy confession. “Sleep best when I know that I’m the reason you’re happy.”
You turn in his arms, your forehead finding his in the dark for a moment. He still hadn’t opened his eyes, but he was beaming in a way that rivaled the sun. You tucked your head under his chin, making yourself at home against him. Your eyelids were heavy, and the weight of his arms around you was the most grounding experience of your life. “Maybe Jimmy has a point.” you mumbled.
“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Clark whispered, mostly to himself.
“You are whipped.”
Clark’s only response was to place a kiss on the top of your head. “You love it.”
He was right, you really really did. You drifted off to sleep feeling more relaxed than you had in days, and Clark soon followed, thinking about the ring he’d shoved deep inside his sweater collection.
btw important clarification: Duke chose the morning shift himself. the sentiment that bruce needed someone to patrol in the morning is straight up untrue, duke's early training was right beside batman solving crimes and chasing criminals at night but as he was figuring out his place in the Gotham vigilante scene working at night just did not work for him. Eventually he chose to work during the daytime specifically because of his mother's ideology, that it's easier to recognize truth in the light, and because it allows him better direct access to the people of Gotham.
Duke is a very community centered character. He is big on his beliefs about it and redemption. Saying Bruce chose the day for him removes Duke's agency as a character and is a fundamental misunderstanding of him. He was Gothams robin (not batman's) for a reason. he was going to do his "protect and uplift the community by any means" thing no matter what, he was doing it before he even met bruce and it was the reason they met in the first place. he works in the morning because it's where the people are and it's the best way to see them in all their truths and complexities and for them to see him and know that everything is going to be okay
Why are people so insistent that the batarang hit in UtH was an accident? What is the point of having a character comment on Bruce's good aim if not to tell you, the reader, that he has good aim? Just say he was trying to force Jason to dodge! It's way more consistent, and it still lets you say Bruce wasn't trying to kill Jason. He went for the risky play and it didn't work out.
