EYES WITHOUT A FACE (BATFAMILY X NEGLECTED! SUPERHERO! READER)
Summary: Reader is the biological daughter of Bruce Wayne. Her parents pass away and she moves in with him and gets neglected and then later on replaced and imitated; but things change later on.
Author's note: I'm not doing tag lists at the moment. The navigation is finally here!! God I've been procrastinating this for eons but I've decided to stop putting it off and do it because well, we've gained quite the readerbase. I'm thankful for you all! Updates come in the weekends, send any headcannon, thought, criticisms, feedback, memes, little blurbs CONVERSATION, ANYTHINGGG. My ask box, DMs and comments are always open. Inspiration for this series is from @mimiiiiiiiiisstuff and the divider's are from @bronzewasp. This IS a crossover fic between DC and Marvel.
SYPNOSIS: Being the subject of admiration of kids is a real privilege.
IMP: Reader is only 5 year's older.. Reader do not reciprocate the feelings.
Dick Grayson:
He liked you before he was Robin, before the light were on him just because you complimented his mother. Most Heroes don't really have the time to take personal note of citizens but you did, and he wasn't ashamed about liking you hell everybody knows that the you g boy liked you. The way his eyes would sparkle whenever he saw you or how he was trying his best to impress you like how kods would.
He broke his leg because he was trying to impress you, forgetting about the fact that he jumping through roofs too occupied with making sure you were watching he totally forgot everything he have learnt. It was embarassing for him pretending that his broken leg was just some boo-boo but you saw through him. Gave him a piggy back home which made him promise to you that he would be stronger and he'll carry you like that one day.
Bruce wouldn't stop lecturing him, scolding him for broking his leg for 'validation'. The moment Bruce somewhat insult you the young boy definitely defended you with his whole heart. He did not care who he had to face no one talk about you like that to him. Alfred wouldn't stop passing remarks about you from that day.
Jason Todd.
He started to like you when you gave him food when he was still living in the street. To you it was just giving a poor kid some food but to him... You were an angel sent by God personally for him and luckily he got to meet you again by fate.
He was more reckless than any of your mentee and definitely more ruthless, Bruce already told you about his bad tendency but you treat him like a normal person. With him around you could go through a whole mission while closing your eyes he would take care of everything for you before you can ask. If any thug get a hit on you, boom! A dislocated arm. After each patrol with yoy Bruce would lecture him again and again, and as a result he was permitted from patrolling with you alone.
He took it like a champ and run straight to your house with his belongings, a credit card he stole from Bruce on his hand. Begging you take him and run away somewhere without Bruce. He ended up staying with you for two months before the unthinkable happened.
Tim Drake.
Being liked by him have to be the worst dream for heros. Not only did he show up at your apartment with a whole binder full of why you were the exact hero he demanded for him to be your sidekick. He even brought a list of chores. He talked about how easy it was and even bringing a presentation on how to hide your identity better cause not every kid deserves to know your identity he needs your validation real bad.
Not only did he not get to live with you he instead got to live with the dark knight. Even during Patrol he wouldn't stop asking you questions which you answered, everything but the 'Can you love a sidekick?'.
Bruce is very sick of your name now, everytime he did something wrong Tim was ready to bring his luggage to your apartment. For Bruce he was learning every random fact about you through his bored kid "Their bathroom is atleast 5 feet by 8 feet", "They're neglecting their school work, especially on friday", "They eat ramen everyday... We should give them money".
Bruce made Tim your contingency plan.
Damian Wayne.
Damian started to 'care' about your presence after you flicker his forehead when he was stating facts. He was amazed by your audacity so much that he ended up at your apartment analyzing everything and memorizing them. It was because if he has to fight you it'll be inside your own home and he'll laugh at you when he ended you in your own comfort.
That never happened he ended up cleaning your apartment out of pity. Gradually he would 'soften' letting you do his hair or let you touch his personal weapon he treasure dearly. To him you weren't just a person you were the embodiment of warmth and he wasn't going to let any one took that warmth from him, they should thank him if they managed to left with only a broken rib.
Bruce saw you as a huge disaster and tried to send you to blüdhaven for your own and his son sake. Damian would always visit you every single night, he couldn't be at ease knowing his trust was so far away so he made sure that you were taking care of yourself not because he love you and only because you were the missing part of him. Being lectured by a kid on how to live isn't fun.
cw: nsfw (minors dni), comic spoilers, s2 & s3 spoilers, invincible war references, dub-con, obsessive behavior, handjobs, hair pulling, sloppy makeouts, spit kink, frottage, cum eating, open/ambiguous ending, etc.
word count: 975
notes: reader has magneto’s powers and used to be part of the guardians. mark whimpers a lot in this one y’all
The air rushes out of your lungs and the asphalt cracks under your weight when you slam into the ground. This other Invincible casts a shadow on you as he comes down, and you hold your hand out.
A chunk of cement interwoven with steel rods barrels into his side, but he shrugs it off like it’s just a minor inconvenience. A bug, or a speck of dust, landing on his shoulder.
The bones in your wrist grind against each other when he catches your hands in his, giving a warning squeeze.
“Ah, ah, don’t fight,” he tuts at you when the foundations of another building tremble. He taps his thumb against your carpals, “Unless you want to say bye-bye to your hands.”
God, he looks just like Mark. The same slope of the nose, the same curve of his jaw, the same crooked smile— but there’s something off about it. Cruel. Amused in the face of your struggle.
“You look just like him,” his voice cuts through the tension, softer now. “Just as beautiful as the day I lost you.” One of his hands leaves your wrist to cup your face, and the calloused pad of his thumb runs along your cheekbone.
You hold your breath when he leans down. He presses his lips against the corner of your mouth, gentle and sweet. Lets out a sigh, his breath warm against your skin.
The difference is staggering.
“Cecil wanted to be the guy that saved the world, not the good guy. So, he killed you.” It sends a jolt down your spine and confirms a deeply buried fear. He leaves another chaste kiss, this time on your lips. “Thought it’d be enough to bring me down. It just made me angrier.”
His hand slides down the front of your body, breaks off the buckle of your suit’s belt with his index finger, then slips past the barrier of your bottoms and underwear. You don’t struggle.
“I made sure he died screaming.” He promises, watching your face as his fingers wrap around your cock. He gives an experimental stroke, and smiles.
It’s Mark. He’s not, but he is. That’s what you tell yourself when heat surges through your body, when you harden under his touch. He shuffles down your body, presses the bulge in his suit to your hip.
You grunt when he bucks forward and kisses the curve of your jaw. “Fuck, baby,” he moans softly, swipes his thumb over the leaking head of your cock. “I missed you.”
(“I missed you,” your Mark had whispered, tucked under your chin after Levy broke into his house.)
You swear, reach out to pull him in by the hair, and he lets you. His mouth feels the same, soft and yielding under your own when you kiss him hard. He moans breathily, sucks your tongue into his mouth with a whimper.
Spit slips down the edges of your mouth and wets your chin. Your lungs start to burn from the lack of oxygen, making you grunt and press a hand to his solid chest.
You’re breathing hard once he pulls away, strings of saliva breaking off. He tugs at his suit until he frees his erection, then settles back on top of you. He sighs with a smile when his cock ruts against yours.
It’s good. Hot and slick with precum.
“C’mon, baby,” he coos, taking you both into his palm. “Fuck me. Juuust how we used to.” His head hangs onto your shoulder when you roll your hips, his breath damp against your throat. “Yeah, like that.”
It’s so good, even though it shouldn’t be. It feels like a betrayal, fucking into his fist and rutting against his cock. Like you’re betraying your Mark by letting this happen, even though you’ve never done anything close to this with him.
(Nothing but that kiss, soft and sweet in the bitter aftermath of the deserted Earth. Never spoke of it after.)
This Mark has no qualms with it, no reservations with touching you. Licks and sucks at your throat like a starving animal while you help him grind a little harder against you. Your hand falls to the familiar dip of his waist, then the firm curve of his ass.
“There you go, Mark,” the words spill naturally from your mouth, your breathing ragged. “Harder. You feel so good.”
“I love you,” he pants into your ear, stroking your cocks with thinly veiled desperation. “Love you, baby. Never letting you go again. Gonna kill everyone that, ah, stands in the way.” His breath hitches, whimpers catching in his throat. “Fuck. You’re mine, all fucking mine—”
You’re sick.
You gotta be, because that obsessive rambling is what does it. You pull hard on his windswept hair as you come. He lets out a low whine, his hips bucking and stuttering when his own orgasm catches him off guard.
He catches his breath first, with that Viltrumite stamina, grins down at you with kiss swollen lips. He brings his stained fingers to his mouth, hums like it’s his favorite flavor. You grunt softly when he reaches for you again.
He’s making a mess of you, uses the cum for a smoother glide. The slick noises are loud in your ears, and the pleasure dances on the edge of oversensitivity, so close to your previous orgasm.
You grip his arm, but he doesn’t slow down. “Mark—”
He laps at the drying spit on your chin, kisses the taste of yourself into your mouth. “Don’t worry. I’m not letting you go anywhere this time.”
Another voice calls your name. It’s Mark, but the white uniform says it’s not your Mark either. There’s a wild sort of delight on his face, the same expression this one had worn when he first caught sight of you.
Dispatch punch up x profighter!&truehero! Reader. Leaning more fem!reader on this one but I’ll leave it mostly gn bc I want my punch up loving boys to get in on this action too<3
Like reader is actively working side by side with hero’s like blazer and phenomaman. They’re extremely well knows and lowkey famous. Reader is known for their insane super strength paired with their ridiculous charisma and character.
Reader unfortunately is put on babysitting duty when there begins being massive outbreaks of crime while the whole shroud debacle was going on. One thing leads to another and reader is grouped in with the Z-team for the following few days and Punch Up falls in love at first sight.
And it’s bad. The first encounter with you at least.
The first time he sees you is from across the flame riddled street among the piles of rubble and injured villains. You’re in your hero costume and beating the shit out of some chump who was apart of this sorry ass group trying to rob a bank. Something about you the light hits your worn form, or how fucking insanely strong you are, or the beautiful way you have with beating villains faces in, it’s all captivating to him.
He hadn’t realized he’d been standing in the middle of the active battle field like a scrub just starting at you.
It hits him all at a once as you begin to start charging at him. He thinks this is it. And that there’s no other way he’d rather go.
That is until he realizes that you’re aiming for the guy behind him trying to actively kill him.
Before he’s able to react fully you’ve already grabbed the guy and broken both of his wrists with a sickening crack so that he couldn’t hold a gun. Judging by the villains whole get up with the gun belts and and ammunition sashes you figured guns were his thing so you took the best feasible action of course.
And meanwhile Punch up is actively turning red
“Ya wanna fucking die short stack!” You yell at him.
“Not at all’ beautiful, not with a view like that.” He says mindlessly with a lovesick voice. Now it’s your turn to be flustered as he stares at you.
“If you’re gonna”- you interrupt yourself to punch another dude in the gut. “Flirt with me, then do it after the world’s not ending!” You finish.
“Of course beautiful!” He says mindlessly before launching himself back into battle, with more vigor than before.
God you were not prepared to deal with how persistent Punch up would be afterwards either…
I would love to see something about Waterboy with a surprise spouse :0
I can imagine everyone on the Z-team just teasing him all the time and then BAM very pretty spouse <3 (I'd like fem but gender neutral good too :3)
[Surprise Spouse] - Waterboy x Hero!Reader
Hope you enjoy!!!
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
Context
You are Marvelstrike, or (y/n), your powers consist of hyper intelligence, photographic memory, and understand every language. You have engineered all your gear and tech and graduated college all the while being in high school. Upon debuting as Marvelstrike after saving your school from peril with a prototype suit, you became a renown SDN hero at the Berkeley branch (You went to UC Berk for college classes) – getting up there with Blonde Blazer and Phenomaman.
You are dating Herman, or Waterboy. You have known each other since highschool, and got close ever since he defended you against some bullies they felt the sight of you guys together was enough punishment then torturing you both. You dated about 6 months after that and have been together ever since.
Extra Context
(the powers are heavily inspired by Mr. Terrific, and for your suit think something similar to (or search up) Captain Laserhawk Niji 6 – kind of like body suit with armor pieces and a helmet with a visor but almost like in a mecha-aesthetic– you are very recognized by engineers and heroes like Mechaman for your genius and way around tech)
(y/n) - your name
(e/c) - eye color
(f/c) - favorite color
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
Waterboy
Friday meetings always feel like detention.
The whole Z-Team squeezes into the briefing room while Robert stands at the front rubbing his temples like he regrets every life choice that led him here–ya know.. The usual. Sonar is complaining about his chair. Flambae is filing his nails over a candle he just lit out of boredom. Punch-Up is holding an ice pack on his fist because of course he is.
Robert slams a folder shut.
“Weekly reports.”
Groans all around.
He points at Punch-Up.
“YOU—apologize to the senator.”
Punch-Up wheezes, “I said I was sorry for punchin ‘em in the nuts—”
“And Sonar?” Robert continues, eyebrows raised.
Sonar perks up. “Look, I just wanted a selfie—”
“THE MAN WAS BLEEDING.”
Prism snickers. “Could’ve just used TeleCam.”
Sonar cuts in, “Oh please, like YOU handled your civilian right—if I remember, you BLINDED him—”
Robert explodes.
“Will. You. All. Shut the fuck up?!”
Everyone goes dead silent.
Robert inhales, resets.
“Because this week was such a flaming hot piece of shit, we’re bringing in support from SDN Berkeley. Someone respected. Someone who is friends with Blonde Blazer and Phenomenon. Meaning—” he glares at all of us “—you WILL be on your best. Goddamn. Behavior.”
Everyone mutters.
Flambae blows a puff of fire. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
When the meeting finally ends, I practically melt into the floor. Work has been… stressful. But at least I get to go home to—
To (y/n).
My lover.
My genius.
My own personal superhero.
I open the door and immediately smell the aroma of my favorite soup in the air.
Clothes drip on the mat with each step, forming tiny puddles the way they always do when I get home.
They’re slicing honeydew in the kitchen, out of uniform, hair out of their face, wearing one of my shirts like they always do when they cook.
God. (y/n) is like home to me.
“Hey, baby,” (y/n) says, without even turning. “Rough day?”
“You have no idea,” I sigh, peeling off my gloves and lightly unzipping my suit, airing our the heat trapped within.
They glance over their shoulder. Their loving (e/c) eyes soften.
“What happened?”
“I moved up the leaderboard,” I say, trying to sound confident. “A couple heroes complained…”
Their face split into the proudest smile I’ve ever seen.
“You’re incredible. You know that, prince?”
I melt.
Literally. The floor dampens.
They laugh softly. “Hermy, you’re leaking.”
“Sorry—sorry, I just—”
I wrap my arms around them from behind, burying my nose into their neck.
“You’re warm.”
“And you’re soggy,” they tease.
I whimper softly, because being close to them always makes my whole body go soft and warm on the inside. They way their body relaxes into mine, at my touch, I feel myself drying slightly.
They turn their head and kiss the top of mine, leaving their lips damp from my hair.
I could stay like this forever. I want this to be my forever.
Eventually, I pull away, cheeks warm. “Shower. Then soup.”
They nod. “Go on.”
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
(y/n)
As he heads upstairs, dripping on every other step, my phone buzzes.
Lola?
I answer. “Yeah, wassup?”
“Hey Marvel, ayou free next week? The Torrance branch needs support. Performance issues, evaluation, maybe some strategic coaching?”
A grin spreads across my face.
Torrance.
That’s where Hermy works.
His team.
His world.
Where he works so hard every day but never lets me see.
“Yeah,” I say instantly. “Count me in.”
I hang up, already to surprise him.
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
It’s the next morning.
Herman is suited up by the door. Nervous. Fidgety. Wet.
I put on my suit—gear, visor, boots, everything. When I step out, he stiffens like he’s seeing a celebrity.
“Can I… drop you off, hun?” I ask.
He blinks. “W-why?”
“You’ve never let me before.”
He puffs up, flustered.
“It’s just—your bike is, uh—flashy.”
I tilt my head. “I have a meeting with Blonde Blazer. At your branch.”
“Oh.” He goes red. “Ohh.”
“So?” I smirk.
He melts.
“O-okay.”
I kiss him hard—slow, warm, intentional. His knees buckle.
He giggles breathless.
Perfect.
I step outside and summon the bike using a voice command..
It uncloaked itself from invisibility, hover engines humming, metal shifting open.
Herman watches it like it’s a piece of alien tech.
His favorite colors glow on the helmet I pull from the compartment.
Then he puts on the helmet, climbs on behind me, wraps his arms around my waist, and I swear—I feel his heartbeat through the armor.
We take off.
Fast.
Wind and sky and (f/c) streaks behind us.
His grip tightens every time we ride, and I smile to myself, because nothing compares to the fact that I get to be the one he holds onto.
We land outside SDN Torrance.
He hops off, nervous.
“(Y—) I mean—Marvelstrike… maybe I should go in after you.”
My stomach dips.
But I nod. “Sure.”
He hates being teased. Hates attention. He’s scared they’ll mock him more if they know who he’s with.
I force a smile. “See you inside.”
He exhale-shakes and leaves.
The employees stare. Whisper.
Someone gasps. Someone drops paperwork.
A few villains in holding cells press to the glass.
I wave politely.
Finally, I reached the office of Blonde Blazer.
Knock. Knock.
“Come in!” Blonde Blazer calls.
I step inside.
She stands behind her desk in full uniform, radiant as ever. Across from her is—
Oh.
A tired brunette in an SDN button-up, hair lightly tousled, coffee in hand. Ear missing a small chunk.
Robert Robertson.
He looks up.
“…Marvelstrike?”
I grin, extending a hand. “Nice to meet you! And you’re Robert, right? Waterboy’s Robert Robertson?”
He blinks. “Waterboy—? You… know him?”
I internally scream.
Blonde Blazer giggles. “Marvelstrike and Waterboy go way back.”
My face burns.
Robert narrows his eyes and tilts his. “How far back?” He asks with a twinge or curiosity in his low voice.
Blonde Blazer beams. “Marvelstrike is the one who referred Waterboy to SDN. Without Marvel, he wouldn’t be here.”
I clear my throat, trying to reassemble dignity.
Robert smirks. “Well. Marvelstrike, you’re not what I was expecting.”
I laugh. “I get that a lot.”
Robert gives me a tour.
People stare. Gawk. Whisper.
It’s fine.
Because soon—
Soon Herman will see me.
And that’s the reaction I’m waiting for.
Robert whispers, “Wait for my cue.”
Inside, the Z-Team is chattering, arguing, being feral as usual. Waterboy is probably shaking in a corner.
Then—
“Alright!” Robert announces. “Meet our surprise–and temporary–hero. Marvelstrike.”
He opens the door.
I step in.
Silence hits like a dropped piano.
Every face stares.
Waterboy’s eyes go cartoon-wide.
He turns red instantly. Fully. Like a thermometer.
God he’s adorable.
I give a calm, authoritative smile.
“Hello, everyone. I’m Marvelstrike. I’m here to observe your operations and support the team this week.”
Then I look directly at Herman.
Warm. Soft.
“You,” I say. “Waterboy. I heard you’ve shown the most improvement lately. Keep it up, SDN is glad we have someone like you.”
His soul leaves his body.
I swear he stops breathing.
Someone whispers, “..What–What was that about?”
Punch-Up says, “Aye lad, are you good?”
Robert claps loudly, diffusing the chaos.
“Okay! Disperse! Shift is starting!”
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
In the break room and head straight for the vending machine.
I grab two Twinkies. One for me. One for him.
The door slams open before I could even react.
Herman practically skids inside, slamming it shut behind him.
“H-hi—” he blurts, running straight to me and grabbing my shoulders gently but desperately.
Then he kisses me.
Mouth on mine.
Tongues battling.
The quiet whimper from the intensity.
He tilts his head just right to avoid the visor.
He trembles like he’s been dying to do that since he saw me.
When he pulls back he’s panting.
“I—s-sorry—I know we said—professional—but you—here—and you—look—good—and I didn’t—know—”
I hush him and cup a hand to his face, letting him melt into my palm.
“It’s okay. I didn’t know it would be your team either.”
He sags with relief, forehead against mine.
“So… you’re here all week?” he whispers.
“All week,” I say softly. “Working with you.”
His knees wobble.
Of course they do.
Just as Herman’s breathing steadies, Robert's voice crackles through the comms.
“Z-Team, Armed robbery in progress at Harborfront Bank. Hostages inside. Invisigal and Marvelstrike dispatched.”
He groans. “Nooo… I wanted—five more minutes—”
I kiss the corner of his mouth.
“Later. Hero work now.”
He blushes so red I actually worry he might evaporate.
I leave the break room smirking while he fights for oxygen.
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
Invisigal is adjusting herself and takes a puff from her inhaler.
“So, Marvelstrike… you’re hot and competent. What’s the catch?”
“I wasn’t aware I needed one.”
She snorts. “Kickass suit. Very ‘super’ of you.”
“That feels like an insult.”
“Oh, it is. Ready?”
I activate my display, fingers dancing over holographic panels.
“Let me hack the personnel side door,” I mutter. “That’ll take you straight into maintenance. You’ll pop out behind the break room.”
“You can do that—?”
A loud click and the lock light switches green.
“I can do that.”
She whistles. “Okay, wonder-nerd.”
She slips invisible, quiet as air.
I enter visibly, intentionally walking in the frame of every security camera.
Let them know Marvelstrike is here.
I instruct Visi to start subduing strayed-away assailants and free any hostages discreetly if possible.
Then I address bank-wide PA from my interface:
“‘Scuse me, the wannabe gangsters of Harborfront Bank . This is Marvelstrike, you are surrounded by authorities, SDN has been contacted, surrender now and get an easier sentence or do things the hard way.”
Gunmen flinch through the camera I have on a side panel I have opened.
One yells, “We’re not surrendering to some tech geek wannabe—”
I groan.
“Why is it always geek or nerd, what is this–Disney?”
I whisper to Invisigal:
“Lure the guys outside into the safe room. I’ll handle the rest.”
She taps one inside the room, making him spin.
Another gets slapped across the neck by nothingness.
Panic.
All of them rush into the safe, stupidly– per usual.
Invisigal slips out just in time.
I click the buttom on my arm piece.
The door slams at an incredible fast rate.
I smile, working the holographic interface projecting from my arm piece..
“One room secured.”
“Damn,” she says. “Remind me never to piss you off.”
Three gunmen remain in the main lobby. Weapons raised.
One shouts, “Marvelstrike is IN the building!”
I sigh. “Yeah, I’ve been talking this whole time?”
Then through his comm, I hear:
“You EVER gonna come fight face-to-face, wannabe Tony Stark?!”
My eye twitches.
I plug a fiber-wire into a fallen robber’s earpiece, hack the frequency channel—
“Hey,” I say over the PA. “Have you ever had tinnitus?”
He frowns.
“Tinni—what?”
“Cool. Learn something new every day. Lesson 1–”
And crank the dial.
A piercing shriek erupts through EVERY robber’s earpieces.
They collapse like puppets cut from strings, twitching, clutching their ears, weapons skittering across the tile.
Invisigal whistles. “Holy hell.”
“Oops,” I say sweetly. “Maybe a tad too loud.”
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
We cuff the unconscious gunmen.
Civilians come out from hiding.
We head back to SDN, and I walk right past Robert’s cubicle
Robert’s voice erupts from behind me just as I pass.
“Amazing job. Seriously. That was insanely impressive hacking, Marvelstrike.”
I grin. “If you ever want lessons, I’m happy to teach.”
Herm’s head snaps toward us from across the loffice.
His eye twitches.
He is jealous.
Holy shit, I could soak in this cuteness all day.
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
The team collapses dramatically into couches and beanbags.
Sonar is ranting,
“I swear that chick at the bar gave me the SDN phone number instead.”
Malevola pats his head. “Yeah, no girl is giving YOU digits, sweetheart.”
Flambae throws a fireball at Sonar’s tie, singing it.
Sonar screeches.
“My tie! This was worth more than your shitbox car!”
“Can we, like, not set each other on fire.. Especially at SDN?,” Robert passive-aggressively states, crossing his arms.
I laugh.
“This is normal for you guys?”
Waterboy nods shyly. “Pretty much.”
I lean back. “My team isn’t perfect either. One was raised by sharks and bites ankles. Another is a moth guy who gets distracted by shiny objects.”
Everyone laughs.
Flambae pipes up.
“Well Waterboy couldn’t even look at an attractive person without choking—”
I raise a brow.
“Oh? What’s not to like? He’s tall. Sweet. Loyal. Unlike tall, dark, and furry over there.”
I gesture to Sonar, who is currently on the verge of turning, Malevola holding him back and calming him.
Waterboy’s cheeks go SO red he looks microwaved.
I wink at him.
He almost falls off the couch.
Flambae rolls his eyes dramatically.
“You’re kidding. Wet Fart Boy? He’d piss himself into a sewer before he gets laid by someone hot—trust me. I’m literally hot.”
Something cold and furious rises in my chest.
Herman flinches.
My jaw clenches.
I stand.
Swipe my arm piece.
Drrrrt—
Four drones detach from my armor, surrounding Flambae like hunting birds.
They scan.
He stiffens. “Uh—uh—what—HEY—”
My display lights up with a file of…
deeply embarrassing photos from his early villain days.
I airdrop them straight to his phone.
He yelps, grabbing it.
“WHERE DID YOU GET THESE?!”
I smile sweetly.
“Digital footprints are real. Also—stop bullying my boyfriend.”
Silence.
Dead.
Silence.
Everyone stares at me.
And then—
“…boyfriend???”
“No. Fucking. Way.”
“WATERBITCH ISN’T SINGLE??”
Punch-Up screams, “PAY UP! I TOLD YA GOBSHITES HE COULD PULL.”
Herman scrambles, stuttering, panicking.
I take his hand.
He goes still.
I speak calmly.
“We’ve been together since high school.”
Prism gasps.
“That’s impossible. Marvelstrike is like—Marvelstrike. Waterboy is.. Well he was our janitor for a hot minute.”
I shrug.
“I was a reclusive nerd in high school. Got bullied a lot.”
A quiet smile forms on my face.
“And then Herman defended me. He was my first friend. My hero. Six months later… We started dating.”
Flambae squints.
“That sounds like a shitty Disney movie.”
I sigh.
Then I cup Waterboy’s face.
His eyelashes flutter.
And I kiss him.
He melts instantly—hands on my waist, leaning in like he’s been waiting years to do this in public. The team disappears for him. He kisses me like the world might end tomorrow.
When I pull away, breath touching his, I whisper:
“I love you. Don’t let assholes tell you who you are.”
He nods quickly, eyes shining, overwhelmed.
The room explodes.
Screaming. Cheering. Money being exchanged.
Robert is facepalming.
Waterboy buries his face in my shoulder.
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
We get on my hoverbike.
He clings so tightly I feel his heartbeat against my spine.
We arrive at home what feels to be an instant.
When we step inside the house, he drops the helmet and pulls me close.
“I… didn’t know you’d tell them,” he whispers.
“They were being cruel.”
He blushes.
“You defended me.”
“Always.”
He kisses me—slow, sweet, trembling at first until I guide his jaw and he deepens it, wet palms cupping my cheeks. Our tongues war for control of each other’s mouths. A groan escapes me as he slides his hands around my body, holding me close.
We stumble toward the couch, lips locked, hands roaming, heat rising—
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK
We freeze.
Waterboy whimpers.
“Please no.”
Another knock.
“HEY WATERBOY,” Prism yells, “WE’RE HERE TO CELEBRATE YOUR RELATIONSHIP.”
Flambae adds in, “WE BROUGHT PIZZA AND I’M SORRY I WAS MEAN—YOUR SPOUSE IS VERY VERY SCARY.”
Malevola insults, “LET US IN, WET DOG.”
Waterboy groans into my shoulder.
I laugh and kiss his temple.
“Let’s go welcome your chaos gremlins.”
He holds my hand.
“Only if you stay by me.”
“Always,” I promise.
The second we open the door, chaos spills in.
Prism shoves a pizza box into my hands like it’s a peace offering. “For the terrifying hacker spouse who can ruin my camera roll in three taps.”
Flambae holds up a six-pack of some weird, spicy-looking seltzer. “I brought apology drinks. Please don’t leak my guyliner era again.”
Malevola saunters in like she owns the place, wings brushing the doorframe. “Nice place, Waterboy. Hi, Marvel. I like you. You’re mean in the right ways.” Malevola elbows me kinda hard, resulting in a slightly winced laugh.
Sonar beelines to the couch, already opening his phone. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be crying about how Waterboy pulled Marvelstrike before I could pull a baddie with big yiddies.”
We move furniture around to make space. Music goes on low. Someone finds the cheap LED strip lights Herman taped up months ago and turns them on; the room floods with shifting blue and purple, reflecting off his little puddles on the floor.
Herman sticks close to my side for a while—half host, half emotionally overwhelmed golden retriever. Every time someone compliments me, he looks almost confused, like he can’t believe they know about his partner.
Eventually, a slower song comes on and Prism yells, “Aww man ya’ll fucked up the vibes in here–I’m too single for this.”
Punch-Up drags Coupe into a ridiculous spin; she pretends to hate it and secretly doesn’t. Sonar tries to waltz with Malevola and almost sprains his own ankle slipping on a tiny puddle.
I hold out a hand to Herm. “Dance with me?”
He stares like I just asked him to solve world peace. “I—I’ll step on you.”
“I have armor-plated boots,” I remind him, smiling. “You’re fine.”
He lets me pull him in.
We sway more than actually dance, his hands settling tentatively at my waist, mine on his shoulders. He’s still a little damp, hair curling a bit at the edges. His eyes keep flicking down to my mouth and then away again like he’s shy all over.
“You know,” I murmur, “you’re doing really well. With all of this.”
“You mean not screaming and running into the bathroom?” he whispers back.
“Yeah,” I chuckle. “Proud of you.”
He hides his face in my shoulder for a second. I feel him grin against my neck.
The rest of the night is soft and loud all at once—shitty jokes, arguments over pizza toppings, Malevola and Prism roasting Flambae, Robert eventually appearing with a “How did I get talked into this” expression and staying anyway.
One by one, they peel off.
“Shift tomorrow,” Robert reminds everyone, pointing sternly. “Hydrate. Do not show up hungover.”
Flambae salutes with a half-finished can. “Yes, Dad.”
Malevola pats my shoulder as she passes. “Keep him in line,” she says, jerking her chin toward Herman.
“Trying,” I say.
Finally, it’s just us. Empty beer boxes, faint music, and the soft hum of the fridge.
The apartment is suddenly quiet. Heavy in a good way.
Herman closes the door after the last goodbye, clicks the lock… and the silence settles between us.
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
Waterboy
For a while, I just stand there, hand still on the doorknob, listening to the muffled sound of retreating footsteps in the hall.
My chest feels too full.
They defended me. In front of everyone. Called me their hero like it was just… a fact.
I turn around.
They’re gathering empty cans into a bag, stacking plates, moving in that careful, efficient way they always do when they’re thinking too hard.
I wet the floor crossing the room. “Hey,” I say, a little too soft.
They glance up. “Yes, my love?”
I swallow.
“Did you…” My fingers twitch at my sides. “Did you mean it?”
They blink. “Mean what?”
“That I’m your hero.” The words tumble out in a rush. “I know you said it to, like, shut Flambae up, and it sounded really cool and I almost passed out, but I just— I didn’t want to assume you actually—”
“Herm.”
They say my name like it’s a steady hand on my shoulder.
I shut up immediately.
They set the bag down and walk over, stopping just in front of me. Up close, the LED lights paint them in moving colors. Their visor is off–the most serious but loving (e/c) I’ve ever seen in my life, armor plates loosened, but they still look like they walked out of a comic panel.
They lay a hand flat against my chest, over where my heart is pounding way too fast.
“I meant every word,” they say.
I stare at them. “But I— I was just some wet weirdo in a hand-me-down shirt two sizes too big. You were always… this.” I gesture weakly at their entire existence.
They huff a little laugh. “Herm, I was a reclusive nerd buried in three advanced classes and a robotics club. I barely talked to anybody. People only noticed me to make fun of me.”
My stomach twists. I remember. The shoves into the lockers. The snickering. The way they hid their face behind their hoodies like a shield.
“You didn’t have to help me,” they continued, eyes steady on mine. “You didn’t know my name. You didn’t owe me anything. But you still stepped in. You risked getting beat up, humiliated, whatever, just to get them off me.”
They shrug slightly. “No one else had ever done that for me. I’m not even sure I would’ve done that for someone else, back then.”
I shake my head. “You would have.”
“Maybe now,” they say softly. “Because of you. Ever since that day, I wanted to do right by you. To be someone you could be proud of. To become the best version of myself I could manage. That’s why I worked so hard. That’s why I sent your name to SDN. That’s why I look at you and think, ‘That’s my hero.’”
My throat burns.
“That’s…” My voice cracks. “That’s so much p-pressure.”
They laugh quietly, thumb rubbing little circles over my chest. “It’s not pressure. It’s… gratitude. Love. You changed my whole life by just being… you. This kind, anxious, loyal idiot who keeps throwing himself into danger for people he doesn’t even know.”
Heat pricks behind my eyes.
“I don’t—” I start, then stop, because my voice is shaking too much.
They step closer, closing the tiny gap between us. I can feel their breath on my lips now.
“I love you, Herman,” they say, clear as anything. “Not hero-you. You. The boy who stood between me and three assholes in a hallway like he was seven feet tall and made of steel.”
A laugh-sob punches out of me. “I was literally crying while I did it.”
“That’s the point,” they say. “You were scared and you still stayed. That’s hero shit, baby.”
Something in my ribcage just… breaks open.
“I love you too,” I manage. “I don’t— I don’t think I ever said it feels like enough, but I— I really, really do. More than anything.”
They smile, that soft, private one that’s just for me.
“Good,” they murmur. “Come here then.”
They tug lightly at the collar of my suit, pulling me to close the inch gap between us.
The kiss starts gentle—just lips, familiar and sweet. I sigh into it, hands finding their waist automatically.
But then they slide their fingers up into my hair, tugging just enough to make my brain short-circuit. My hands tighten, hauling them closer. The kiss deepens, warmth flaring in my chest and rushing out to every limb.
They part their lips, and I follow without thinking, tongues tangling, the taste of them washing out every leftover anxiety from the night. A small sound slips out of me—half whimper, half groan.
Their back hits the arm of the couch; we stumble and kind of fall together, laughing into each other’s mouths. They end up beneath me, fingers curled in the front of my suit, pulling me down instead of pushing me away.
I break the kiss just long enough to breathe and blurt, “You sure—?”
They cup my face, eyes bright and steady. “Herm. I just told you you’re my hero. Do you really think I don’t want you close?”
My heart does a full somersault.
I kiss them again, harder this time, one hand braced by their head, the other sliding around their waist to hold them flush against me. They respond with equal urgency, matching every movement, meeting every press of my mouth like they’ve been waiting for this moment as long as I have.
The world narrows to the heat between us—the soft drag of their lips, the way their laugh keeps breaking through when our noses bump or my knee knocks the coffee table, the feeling of their hands trying to touch as much of me as possible through the stupid suit.
I pull back just an inch, breathing hard, foreheads pressed together.
“Still your hero?” I whisper, because I’m an idiot who can’t shut up.
They chuckle, thumb tracing along my jaw. “Yeah, sweetheart. Always.”
I kiss them again, and this time, I let myself believe it.
────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────
This one was an anonymous request! I had two versions mocked up this one and a shorter civilian one but then this one got way more involved than it needed to so I stuck with this one! Hope you like it <3
Can they really be called the villain when the hero’s are sending child not even in their teens to certain death to fight him.
Reader was already hurt when they challenged the villain, it was no wonder villain just scooped them into their arms with no fight at all.
Perhaps reader brought back bad memories of villains own past, but nonetheless villain wasn’t going to let them be harmed anymore.
“I thought you were evil though?” Reader asked taking the plate of fresh food they were given, sitting on the soft bed.
“A villain dear not a monster, children deserve to be taken care of they shouldn’t be the ones taking care” they pet their head.
“B-but what’s going to happen if I don’t defeat you, the prophecy said…”
“Prophecy don’t exist child, there just stories to get people to do what others want” he glared down at them.
“Now eat, if you were sent here by yourself you must not have had a proper meal in a while” he turned to walk out of the room leaving them sitting on the bed.
Hey, I had a crazy idea for a yandere Lex x reader
What if the reader was just the opposite of Lex as a billionaire, focused on using their money on helpful enterprise, major philanthropy, etc but were secretly a superhero with a notoriety and love for humanity like Superman?
Whenever I daydream about this, I also think about if they knew each other since college as well and were exes that couldn’t get along due to Lex feeling inferior (essentially rivals to lovers that hatefuck lol) but you don’t have to include that part if you don’t want to.
Maybe the scene could be Lex finds out, Lex interrogates, threatens, the whole shebang, potential noncon component, whatever works.
Love you works! If you do this ask I really appreciate it!
hmmm lemme cook and if u hate it, i give you permission to beat the shit out of me (btw im also doing kinktober so ill release some stuff oct 4th some time)
also new terminology today: (s/n) = superhero name (yours) cuz... you guys probably have smth in mind for yourself (i do lol my self-insert hero name is phantom like from danny phantom... yeah i know im very lame haha)
cw // toxic/yandere behavior, noncon, kidnapping, lex is an egomaniacal asshole, lmk if im missing anything
yandere lex luthor x f!reader
the bruise on your ribs felt more tender than normal and you hold back a groan when someone pulls you into a hug. “oh, (y/n)!” the old woman smiles at you, squeezing your hands, “you look more and more beautiful every time i see you.”
you laugh, “thank you, ma’am.” you has just gotten your ass handed to you last night after teaming up with superman, but she doesn’t need to know that you’re wearing a pound of foundation.
you circle around the hall, subtly reminding everyone to donate to the charities you were sponsoring. "(y/n)." your eyes settle on lex luthor, dressed in matching colors your dress. you hold back a frown, keeping a pleasant smile on your face.
"lex." you hold out a hand, "haven't seen you in a while... how have you been?" he squeezes your hand in a firm shake, sporting an infuriating smirk.
"better than you." he tilts his head, watching you.
your smile falters, "excuse me?"
lex grips your hand tight, pulling you close to him without warning, "i've heard a certain hero was prancing around with superman." he whispers into your ear and a chill goes down your spine.
you scoff, "i don't know what-"
"a certain hero that was around when we were in college too." lex pulls away, "of course, i'm sure you don't know anything about it... just like all those years ago."
"i don't." you yank your hand back, putting some distance between the two of you. you see a reporter waving you over and you try to put an end to the conversation, "you should donate to some of the charities i'm sponsoring before you leave."
"i don't do charity work, (y/n). you of all people should know that." lex rolls his eyes and you scoff.
"right, of course, my mistake. i forgot that you were a sociopathic jerk." lex laughs in your face and you scowl, "good bye, luthor."
"i'm sure we'll see each other soon, (y/n)."
you swiftly turn around, mumbling to yourself, "i sure hope not."
you didn't see him again for the rest of the month, buried in work and constantly on-call for the justice league. with there was no time to dwell on the words of an old friend, you put the infurating conversation out of your mind.
"(s/n)." batman hands over a file. "we need you to look into this. there's a suspected human trafficking ring in Metropolis."
you sigh, "you know there's a reason i'm not a part of the league, right?" you take the file from him anyway.
superman cuts in, "we would be grateful if you could. if it's who we think it is, i'm going to be busy dealing with kaijus and imps."
you open the file, eyes skimming the documents. "we understand if you're not available, (s/n), but batman and i are busy with our respective cities..." diana's voice is gentle and you let out a chuckle.
you give the three of them a smile, "i'm not going to turn my back on innocent people, don't worry."
you stake out the warehouse every night, hoping to catch anything to connect it to the mystery suspect. they refused to tell you who the suspect was, saying there would be a conflict of interest, and you couldn't help but laugh.
there were two thugs around the entrance to the warehouse, letting people in and out. but as suspicious as that was, nothing illegal was happening from what you could see.
"dude, how long do we have to do this?" your eyes land on a large man, huffing as they stand around idly.
"till the boss says we can stop, idiot." the other man, short and slender, snaps.
"you're the idiot. i told you we should've just moved to gotham. the rents lower over there."
he lets out an aggravated sigh, "so is the pay, moron. do you not know anything about the economy?"
as the pair argue over the state of the world, you carefully scale onto the roof of the building. looking inside, you notice... nothing. no people, no meth labs, nothing illegal.
"what the hell..." you use a glass cutter to get inside without alerting the two men. you snoop around the empty warehouse, finding boxes of dust-covered weapons. "there's nothing here." you hold back a sigh. "who knew even batman could make mistakes." you let out a silent chuckle.
"who knew indeed." before you could react, pain flashes through your skull. you stumble, collapsing as you feel blood start to drip down the back of your neck.
"luthor." you grit your teeth, trying to get back to your feet. a blow to the back of your knees, forces you down. you feel hands hold you tight, keeping you steady.
lex luthor steps in front of you, "i didn't think it would be so easy to fool you," his hand is gentle, carassing your chin as he forces you to look at him, "but i know the person i used to know is still buried underneath all this..." he taps your nose, "spandex." you try to pull away from the two idiots, but with your concussion catching up, your body felt heavier.
"let- let go." your words slur and lex laughs.
he waves you away, "get her in my car. you can collect your paycheck-" the words fade out as everything starts to blur together.
the first thing you see is a harvard degree, then MIT, then princeton, then yale. a wall covered in doctorate degrees of every science. "impressed?" lex's voice grates your ears and you wince. you try to stand, but the rope tying you to the chair pulled you tight.
"by your inferiority complex? no." you notice your attire and glare at the bald man, "did you change me?" you notice the skimpy nightgown donning your figure, almost see through.
"i wasn't going to let you die from an infection." he gets closer, tracing the bandages wrapped around your head. "you should be thankful." he moves to stand in front of you, leaning on his desk.
"thankful?" you scoff, "you kidnapped me and then you took my clothes off into-" you look down, "-the ugliest thing i've ever seen, oh my god, do you not have any fashion sense?"
lex stares at you, "that's what you're worried about?"
you sigh, "you've known since we were in college, lex. contrary to your belief, i'm not stupid."
lex grits his teeth, "that's it. that's all you have to say?"
"what more do you want me to say? this isn't my first time with a kidnapping, just slightly more violating than usual." you lean back into your seat, annoyed.
lex rubs his temples and you, gleefully, watch as a vein bulges in his forehead. "i want you to understand that none of this is worth it." before you could blink, lex was directly in front of you, "you could've had everything. you could've had the world in the palm of your hand."
you stare, realization slowly dawning on you, "is... is this about our break-up?" lex falters, eyes searching your face before scoffing. “oh… oh my god, you self-absorbed jerk!” you laugh and laugh. lex’s face gets progressively angrier as you laugh in his face. “i can’t believe you still haven’t gotten over it.”
“don’t.”
“lex, we broke up in undergrad!” you’re flabbergasted, annoyed, and eager to burst the egotistical man’s bubble. “over a fucking decade ago!”
he grits his teeth, “you were the only one almost my equal, (y/n), and to see you debase yourself-”
“debase?”
“-like this… it disgusts me.” lex sighs, looking away from you. you see a small smile tug at his lips before he looks back you, disappointed.
“you are unbelievable.” you shake your head, annoyed. “let me go. now.”
lex ignores you, “if you wish to be treated like the scum out there- like the pathetic losers you protect-” lex comes closer, gently caressing down your neck. “i will treat you as you want.”
you stay silent, watching the man carefully. lex stands in front of you, his eyes twinkling with glee. you see his hands quickly unbuckle his belt and your stomach drops. “don’t do this, lex.”
“you should be grateful, (y/n). i normally keep my exes in a pocket dimension, but you…” you try to interrupt, but lex shoves two of his fingers into your mouth. he presses down on your tongue, pupils growing wide. “…i can make use of you.”
you couldn’t protest as he gagged you with his fingers. your eyes fall to his other hand as he drops his pants, pulling out his cock.
lex pulls his fingers out, using your saliva to pump himself. you spit, venom seething through your voice, “stop-” lex pulls your head forward, forcing you around his dick.
“good girl, this is all you’re good for.” lex groans and you let yourself go lifeless. he uses your throat without care, ignoring your unwillingness. every thrust bruising the back of your throat. he gets faster and you feel yourself get hot. “swallow.”
you don’t get a choice as he pulls you flush against his body, your nose pressed against his pubic bone. you barely taste it, his cum going down your throat without difficulty.
lex pulls you off and you slump against the chair. he bends down, eye-level with your cunt, and scoffs at you, “with all your complaining, i didn’t think you would be soaking wet.” he doesn’t give you time to look, pressing a finger against your soaked panties.
“hng-stop-”
“only good girls can make demands, (y/n).” lex smirks at you, slowly tracing your slit. you jerk in place. “and with time, i’ll make you perfect.”
