— ✧ thinking about kryptonian!reader and dick grayson...
dick's sprawled out on your bedsheets, a long leg hooked over your shoulder, body bent in half in a manner only possible for dick grayson, while you pound into him from above. you’re only using a fraction of your power, but for him, it feels like you're pulverizing and then sewing his insides back together at the same time.
every time you harshly thrust into dick’s wet hole, he lets out an embarrassing half moan, half wheeze, but it doesn’t seem to deter you, keeping up your steady strokes.
“fuck,” dick cries out, when a particularly hard thrust makes your cock hit his prostate directly. he moves one of his hands braced up against the headboard down to a sensitive, stiff nipple. he twists and tugs at it hard enough to make his mouth drop open in pleasure and moan out loudly again. dick’s hole is messy and puffy and frothily white from your past three or four (and fuck, he’s so gone he can’t even remember how many times you came in him) loads.
you pant heavily above him, and the look on your face is worth the nasty bruises he’ll probably have on his hips where you’re gripping them tightly (you’re lucky he loves you because that is going to make patrolling tonight such a bitch).
the wet plap! of your thighs and his ass colliding is downright fucking obscene, and holy shit, that’s probably one of the hottest things he’s ever heard.
dick clenches down on your cock, making you groan. you remove one of your hands from his hips to cup his cheek, leaning down to sloppily kiss his open mouth. it’s more of a wet, messy gliding of lips than it is a kiss, but it’s hot as fuck and dick’s going to come soon so he doesn’t care.
one of your hands moves from his hip to smack his ass. dick’s eyes roll up into the back of head, and he gasps in surprise.
“you like that, baby?” you pant.
“fuck yeah, i love it,” dick groans back.
he cries out when you do it again, this time with your other hand. “mm, I love this pretty hole,” you groan, “it’s all mine, right? my hole to do whatever I want with.”
“yeah? you want me to fuck you? fuck you so hard that you forget your own damn name?” your pounding speeds up, and your strokes grow shorter. dick automatically grinds down onto you to meet your thrusts. you reach down between your sweat slick bodies and tug at dick’s throbbing cock. dick’s abdomen tenses up, and he can feel his orgasm approaching.
he nods dumbly, now unable to make any sounds other than moaning and whimpering. you withdraw the other hand on his hip to grasp the headboard roughly, allowing yourself more leverage to fuck dick harder–something that didn’t even seem possible at this point.
“f–fuck, i love you so much, dick,” you moan out loudly, and dick fucking loses it.
he comes with a shout, back arching up and painting long stripes of thick, white cum across both of your stomachs. “love you…” he murmurs over and over as he rides out his orgasm on your cock.
your mouth drops open in pleasure as you continue to thrust sloppily into dick, hand above him on the headboard squeezing down harder. the burn of overstimulation is painful yet at the same time feels so good, but dick doesn’t have the energy to let out anything except for satisfied sighs and low gasps.
your hips stutter to a stop, pressing into him as close as you can. hot, thick liquid floods inside of dick, and he gasps, tears pricking at his eyes. you keep thrusting in and out of dick, slower now, riding out the rest of your orgasm. wood splinters and cracks above him. wait—what?
with furrowed brows and a dazed expression, dick looks up and holy shit.
you broke his headboard.
wood sticks up and out underneath your hand, and dick, momentarily forgetting your invulnerable skin, winces at the thought of never ending splinters. you wouldn’t have even noticed in your fucked out and hazy mind, but dick suddenly going quiet makes your brows furrow in confusion and you look up as well.
you gape and snatch your hand away from dicks headboard, looking down at dick with a pout and a guilty expression.
“shit, baby i’m sor–” dick cuts you off, a hand rising to snake around your neck and pull you down into a proper kiss. it’s slow and gentle now that the heat of the moment is gone, your lips moving with dicks automatically, as if you had done this a thousand times before–because you had.
you break away slightly, enough to murmur against his lips, “i’m sorry, i’ll buy you a new one.”
dick smiles and shakes his head. “it’s ok, you don’t have to,” he whispers back.
you sigh and pull completely away from dick, slowly sliding out of him with a wet pop. dick winces at the uncomfortable feeling in his ass as you flop down on your stomach beside him.
you both lie in silence for a moment before you sigh and get up, heading towards the bathroom. dick absentmindedly appreciates the view of your ass as you walk away.
you come back a little bit later with a wet washcloth and you begin cleaning dick and yourself up. once you’re done, you toss the washcloth in the general direction of the dirty laundry hamper (you miss by the way, which dick slightly cringes at).
laying down on the bed again, this time on your back. you turn toward dick and he knows what you're about to say before you even open your mouth. dick sits up and leans over you, pressing his lips against yours again in a sweet kiss. he draws back and grins lazily at you.
“it’s ok,” he says again. “don’t worry about it.”
you frown but keep quiet. dick notices your eyes starting to flutter shut.
“tired?” he asks.
you nod and hum, eyes finally shutting.
dick lays back down next to you on his side, hooking a leg over your waist and resting his head on your shoulder. he sighs heavily as he adds buy new headboard to his mental to-do list.
Sometimes it felt like Gotham was just a soap opera.
At least, that's how Dick felt the second his boots hit the rooftop overseeing the majority of the city.
It was strange to be back on the job. As a vigilante Blüdhaven let you breathe at least a little. Gotham watched you, judged you, and remembered literally everything.
He hasn't seen you yet, which is a bit upsetting. You were always his third favourite alien (Kori first, obviously. And Clark second. No one will ever replace the fan boy obsession he has with Clark).
But the fact you weren't here had him frowning. Your punctuality wasn't the most pristine—you were constantly late to galas, early to disasters, but always on time to people.
Especially when it comes to your new boy toy Red Hood, you'd been orbiting him so consistently lately that whenever he saw you Dick had started a running tally of how many times he could tease you about it before you snapped and finally launched him into orbit.
At least Kori would be his knight in shining armor when you did. Oh how glorious that would be.
He rolled his shoulders, gaze sweeping the streets below. Why is it so quiet? He needs some action so that he can pack up whatever gang Bruce wants him chasing and get home to Kori. She even said she had a surprise–
He almost fell to his knees at the crack of gunfire cutting the thought clean in half. Hell, fucking, yeah.
Dick's head snapped toward the sound, instincts flaring as he zeroed in on a narrow alley a few blocks away. He was already moving before his brain fully caught up, allowing muscle memory to do what it always did.
He landed just in time to see Red Hood drive a knee into a guy's sternum and slam him into brick hard enough to leave a crater. He was efficient, controlled, violent in a way that was almost familiar.
"Wow," Dick muttered as he dropped in, taking out a gunman with a kick.
Red Hood whipped around, guns snapping up before pausing as his eyes clocked the black and blue suit.
"What the hell are you doing here?" He growled.
"Helping your ass," Dick cheered, cracking an escrima stick across someone's wrist, "You're welcome."
"I have it handled."
Dick ducked a wild swing from someone attempting an ambush behind him and elbowed the guy in the jaw, "You have most of it handled. I'm like the little parrot spewing words of praise on your shoulder."
Red Hood groaned, shooting one more man in the leg before all of them were finally riddled injured on the floor, either passed out or on the very verge. Silence rushed in to fill the alley, thick and echoing.
Dick straightened, hands resting on his hips, "See? Team effort goes a looongg way."
Red Hood turned slowly, angled just enough that Dick could just about feel the glare looming behind it, "Uh-huh."
Dick grinned, "So you're more of a loner. Got it."
Up close the resemblance was uncanny. The stance, they way he held himself, the way Red Hood winced a little when he rolled his shoulder—the exact shoulder Dick remembered stitching up for his little brother.
Jason.
No. Red Hood. Jason is dead, long gone.
"So," Dick said, leaning against the wall like they weren't standing in the middle of a crime scene, "Superstar ditch you tonight or am I about to be a third wheel?"
Red Hood stiffened. Barely, but Dick still saw it.
"She's busy," The masked man replied flatly.
"Uh-huh," Dick hummed, "Are you lying? You keep looking up at the sky like you're searching for her."
"I am not."
"You are," He grinned brightly.
Red Hood scoffed, "You don't know anything about me."
Dick tilted his head, studying him with an infuriating calmness, "You sound like my brother when you say that."
The air shifted and Red Hood's hands curled at his sides, "Isn't that fun."
"Sure is," Dick said gently, "I'm sure you'd get along if he was still with us."
The jacket squeaked a little as the (literal) red-head shifted uncomfortably, fingers idly playing with the zipper, "Shame."
"You're so brooding," He giggled to himself.
"Then go."
Dick exhaled, gaze flickering briefly skyward, "Nah. Starshines my friend I wanna see what the hype around you is all about."
Red Hood hesitated, "And your opinion is...?"
"You seem good enough. I would have preferred someone else but you're close enough."
Red Hood's patience didn't snap all at once. It never did. His patience was something that fizzled all throughout the day, depleting depending on his surroundings (mainly when he was around you). And this right now was not good for his blood levels.
"Stop staring," He told the man.
Dick blinked like he'd just been caught zoning out in class, "Am I?"
"Yeah. Like you're tryna x-ray through the helmet."
"Maybe if you stopped being so defensive I wouldn't have to," He grinned.
Red Hood let out a sharp, humourless laugh, the sound echoing far too loud in the alley, "Defensive? You drop into my fight, won't leave, and fucking psychoanalyse me like some fuckass therapist."
Dick grinned wider, "Make sure to leave a good review. I have a card somewhere..." He muttered as he patted down his suit.
"Jesus Christ–" Red Hood ran a hand down the front of the helmet, frustration oozing from his voice, "Just lay off it, Dick."
Okay. Right. That could have just been an insult. Surely he's just calling him a Dick.
But the way he said it—it was almost soft despite his anger. And seemingly like everything this man did, he had done it just like Jason.
Dick's grin froze mid-expression, almost as though someone had hit pause on him. The city noise—sirens, distant traffic, Gotham's ever-present hum—seemed to fade into the background, muffled and unreal.
"What," Dick whispered in disbelief.
Oh. Oh shit. Jason hadn't even realised he said that. It's not like it's inconspicuous that Gotham and Blüdhaven's favourite boy is Richard John Grayson—anyone who knew him would know. Hell, anyone with a brain would know all the hero's identities in a heartbeat. Although it seems majority of the world seemingly has no brain.
And of course, Jason does know. Because one—he spent five of his most important years with this man, he could spot him from a mile away. Two—he's seen photos of Nightwing and Starfire kissing, and no way in hell would Dick let that happen without a public, dramatic eulogy about his failed relationship with his so-called one true love. And three—he's not dumb.
But oh fuck is he beginning to debate that third point.
He turned his head just enough to look away, "I was insulting you, don't act weird–"
Dick straightened immediately. The easy looseness of his typical persona leaking into something sharp. His escrima sticks slid back into their holsters
"No you weren't," He said, voice low and steady in a way that made the man opposite him shiver, "Insults are all bark and bite. That was neither."
Red Hood's shoulders squared defensively in response, not necessarily appreciative of being on the receiving end of Nightwing's anger for the first time, "Drop it. You're reading into shit that isn't there."
"No I'm not," Dick snapped, taking a step forward, making sure to keep note of the way Red Hood didn't retreat.
Dick reached up and peeled his own mask off in one smooth motion, letting it hang loosely from his hand as he stares at the unresponsive man currently avoiding his gaze.
Was this stupid? A little. Actually, a lot. Because if his gut feeling is wrong then he's just gonna have to give this guy so much brain damage he totally forgets about this whole interaction. And that wouldn't make you very happy.
"Look at me."
And yet Red Hood continued to stare holes into the ground, fists clenched tight.
Somehow, that annoyed Dick enough to shove him. Not viciously or cruelly, but just enough to get his point across.
Red Hood stumbled back a step, boots scraping against gravel as his back hit the brick wall behind him with a dull thud. His instincts flared hot and fast, hands shooting up to grab his aggresor's wrists, preventing him from any more shoves.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" He snarled.
Dick leaned in, forearm braced across Red Hood's chest, eyes burning, "Take it off."
"Fuck no," He laughed.
"You know my name," Dick snarled, "You fight like him. You brood like him. You have the same shitty posture."
Red Hood scoffed, breath coming fast, "Projection much."
"Jason stop hiding," He begged, throat tightening as he arm tightens against the man's neck.
Silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating. That was before Red Hood laughed. Far too loud, and far too brittle. Like glass snapping under pressure.
"You've lost it," He cackled, "Great detective work, Nightwing. See a guy with a singular resemblance to your dead brother–"
Dick's knuckles cracked against the red plating with a brutal clang that echoed through the alley, the sound sharp enough to make even himself flinch with how much accidental force he put into it. Red Hood's head snapped sideways, the force rattling through the helmet as his boots skidded on damp concrete. He barely even had time to recover before Dick grabbed a fistful of his jacket and drove him back into the wall, spine hitting hard brick.
"Shut up," Dick snarled, forearm slamming across Jason's chest to pin him there again. His heart was hammering so hard it felt like it might tear its way out of his ribs, "Don't speak about him like that."
The man in front of him sucked in a sharp breath through clenched teeth, the air still knocked out of him despite the recovery time.
"You are losing it," He bit out between breaths, "Back up–"
Dick leaned in instead, forehead almost knocking against the red helmet, voice dropping into something low and jagged, "I watched my brother grow an identity outside of being just some poor kid. And I also buried him. Stood at his grave. Wondered what I did so wrong that he felt he couldn't even ask me for help for something so important to him."
Jason froze, the words landing somewhere deep and totally knocking the fight out of him.
"And now you're in front of me with his voice, his temper, and his shitty deflection tactics knowing my name and expect me to– what? Just walk away?"
Dick could feel as he took a sharp inhale against his arm, "So take it off," He begged, "Or I swear to God, I'll bash your head into the wall so many times you won't even have a helmet by the end of it."
Jason's hands curled at his side, shaking with the intensity, "Are you sure you want that?" He murmured. Gone was the snark, gone was the bite. All that was left was vulnerability.
Dick swallowed, "Yes."
They stared at one another, the space between them tight. Dick can really feel it now—the familiarity that he had been trying to decipher whether it was reality or his own projection.
Red Hood let out a long and shaky exhale, "Fuck," He muttered, tipping his head back against the brick wall, "Fuck– you were always like this. Could never let shit go."
Slowly, reluctantly, each clip of the clasps at the base of the helmet sounded impossibly loud in Dick's ears, like a countdown to a challenge he was regretting agreeing to.
Once the helmet lifted, Dick forgot how to breathe. He was so...different.
There was now a white streak in his hair, stark and unrecognisable.
A new scar formed at the corner of his mouth, as well as a few faded ones he had never helped Alfred clean before.
And his eyes. They faded into something that seemed more green than blue, as if the pigmentation was battling for exposure.
"Stop staring," Jason muttered bashfully.
Dick totally ignored that request, unblinking as if worried that if he did, Jason would dissappear again.
His chest felt tight, lungs refusing to work properly as his breaths came in short, uneven pulls like they forgot how to work. One hand lifted without permission, fingers hovering near Jason's face, stopping just short of touching skin.
"You're–" Dick let out a laugh that broke halfway, "You're alive. You're actually–"
Jason shifted on his feet, shoulders hunching as Dick still refused to look away, "Yup."
Dick laughed again, wet and hysterical, a sound torn straight from his chest. He shoved Jason's shoulder, soft and fond, nothing like the hit from earlier, "You're so annoying! I had to stand there and watch them lower you into the ground just for you to come back?!"
He surged forward before Jason could even prepare himself, fists grabbing the front of his jacket and yanking him into a hug that was grounding and desperate all at once. Dick's shoulders shook as he laughed and cried into Jason's collarbone, "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted to beat you up for dying?"
Jason huffed a weak laugh, arms coming up to wrap around him just as tightly, "Pretty sure you already fulfilled that."
"Don't get comfortable," Dick sniffed, "I've got seven years left of grieving to beat you with."
"Great, I'll make reservations," He deadpanned.
"Oh my God."
Jason stiffened immediately, looking around them, "What?"
Dick's eyes went wide, joy detonating across his face like he'd just solved the question if the universe, "Oh my God."
"What?!" He was panicking now.
"You got her!" Dick cheered, awe-struck and delighted all at once, "God, you used to be so obsessed with her."
"I was not–"
"Oh don't lie to me," Dick cut in immediately, grinning like a menace, "You had photos of her all over your room."
"I did not–"
"Half of them didn't even have you in! They were just random newspaper clippings."
Jason groaned, dragging a hand down his face, "I was, like, fourteen."
"Oh em gee, I remember that one time you has to skip patrol because the idea of her fighting a giant alien with Superman in Metropolis worried you so much you got sick–"
"Wouldn't you get worried over Kori?!"
"Oh," Dick paused, thinking for a moment, "Yeah but I'm married to her. What's your excuse?"
"Whatever. Semantics."
Dick was still smiling when it hit him.
"Jay..." He began, "You know I gotta tell Bruce. At least be with me when I do."
The words landed without any dramatics on Dick's end—just fact. And it annoyed Jason how true it was.
"I know," He sighs.
"At least you'll get to meet the new ones. Did you know B had an actual son he didn't yank from an orphanage?" Dick grinned.
"Seriously?"
"Mhm, and there's Steph and Cass—though Cassandra is the only one Bruce adopted. And then there's Duke. Man, gotta love Duke. And then Tim–" Dick listed.
"Okay, I get it. Jeez. Save some surprises," Jason huffed.
"Him and Sel–"
"I said save some surprises!"
you
jason i'm so sorry !! i'm on the way i swear
jon was trying to join me and kon-el on this mission and got upset and i had to comfort him and hes really whiney i swear i didnt forget !
jaybird ♡
dont worry about it
dick kinda found out and is taking me to talk to bruce so you can just go back home
you
richard found out ?? are you okay with that ??
jaybird ♡
i think so ??
it feels better than i thought it would for him to find out
i missed him a lot sadly
you
awh good luck jaybird !! i love you <3
jaybird ♡
love you too <3 sleep well i probably wont be able to say goodnight while you're awake
a/n : this is so long and so bad i am NOT built for long things but i couldn't stop writing i had to stop myself at the end. like always just ask to be tagged (also make sure to comment on the most recent fic bc otherwise i will forget to add you i fear) also if i haven't added you and you have asked please ask again i love tagging people !!
FLOWERS are only sent when dick is too nervous to talk to you.
a/n: just wanted to make something for super reader bc i haven’t in a while
Why would a simple alien from a planet that’s no longer live on earth, have a human boyfriend who’s very affectionate and is a leader to other superheroes, and suddenly get flowers at their door? Now listen. You and dick go allll the way back when you actually use to be apart of the teen titans and just young kids.
You’ve both wanted to have a separate part of the hero life from your mentors. You both couldn’t be the sidekicks that are just “too” cute to be independent.
When dick wanted you to join him on this journey, he sent you flowers with a small note. “Wanna join me?” Simple like that. Nothing too bad , nothing too flirty or desperate. It’s just him making sure for you to know your decision matters more. And it began to grow more.
Any fight? Flowers.
Any holiday he could think of to talk to you but chicken out? Flowers.
Any date. Flowers of course .
You get the image right?
He didn’t meant to feel jealous when he saw you actually getting close to starfire or anyone that had close powers to you. He wasn’t that jealous when of course Aqualad introduced himself and you were smitten by his personality.
Of course not…
He wanted to turn him into sushi.
But he doesn’t have to do that because you and him are finally together and happy! Yippe for dick! You’re both now adults and he still gets nervous around his kryptonian partner. He’ll literally put foil over the flowers so you could guess what they are. It’s adorable but … sometimes they end up dead cause you can’t see them through the walls.
You’re someone… not him. Not Superman, not a simple sidekick. Just you. so you kinda don’t like using your powers much. Like at all. You kinda retired ever since Kon El came around. You were in your apartment when suddenly the bell of your front door rang.
Walking over to the door , you opened it to see your favorite bundle of flowers. You couldn’t help but chuckle. Lifting up the bouquet, you turn a little white note seeing a simple ‘ D.G’ in the bottom of it.
‘Dear super cutie, hope you remember to come to our spot for tonight. Bring the Chinese takeout too, thanks babe!’
He could’ve texted… but guess he wants to relive moments. You opened your window and flew out of it gently.
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.
Why is this random man talking to you in the strange foreign tongue...and why does this boy called Jason want to hug you?
- Warnings : This is a Jason Todd x Kryptonian!Reader Series!! Kryptonian tradition mentions that get explained!!
Series Masterlist !
"Why did I have to come, exactly?" Dick asked as he slouched in the comfy seat of the jet, dangling a cluster of grapes over his mouth as he meticulously bites them off one by one.
Bruce sighed, using the palm he was resting his head on to now support his chin as he stared at the two boys in front of him.
"To entertain Jason so he doesn't get involved with important business."
"I could totally distract myself without Dick here!" Jason retorted, crossing his arms and copying the way said man was sat, "He's just gonna moan about being away from Kori, anyways."
"Oh, how I miss her, Jaybird," Dick mocks, laying himself over the small boy, nuzzling his nose in his neck despite Jason's whines and pushed against his hair, "I don't know how I'll survive...what if I never see her again—we'll never be able to get married and have little tiddlywinks. Oh, woe is me."
"Get oooffff!" He grunts, failing with every attempt to push him, "Bruuce! Tell him!"
"I can't do it, Kara! I give up!"
"Yes you can!" She reasures you, clapping her hands together, "Just focus on being less upside down and more right side up."
You glare at her, brows furrowed and mouth wide open as you stare at her in pure confusion, "What do you think I'm doing?"
A little giggle escapes her and you can practically see the teasing remark sparkling in her eyes before she even says it out loud, "Not very well."
"Oh my Rao, I'm actually going to–"
You're cut off by a loud rumbling and the sound of wind appearing from above you. Managing to crouch forward far enough you're greeted by a large, sleek, black vehicle spinning around in the air, steadily moving down at an easy pace outside of the Kent's house.
This has gotta be mocking you in some sort of way. A big heavy object can fly all well and dandy but you can't? Right, right, that's normal.
Kal-El quickly appears in front of you in what you've learnt are somewhat normal civilian clothes for this planet—a suit and tie. Apparently its only for the fancy schmansy situations humans get themselves involved in, though he also has to wear it to work according to Kara, and he also wore one at his wedding. So are suits even that important and interesting? Who knows.
You're wearing some Earth civilian clothes, too. You've borrowed a shirt from Kara which apparently is designed by one of her favourite music artists here, a blonde girl at the front with some very desolate and dead looking trees in the background and two large words at the top. She also gave you these strange shorts that stick to your thighs—these clothes are nowhere near comfy compared to the robes you arrived in, but you're now stuck with the task of 'blending in' to human society for the rest of your days.
Which also means when out and about you now have to wear these strange glasses on your face that apparently renders you unrecognisable to the people that don't know you without the glasses. You don't quite get it, and you don't quite get what glasses are, but you'll live.
"Stand up," Kal tells you, flipping you around again and placing a hand on your head, only being willing to let go when he was fairly certain you wouldn't fly off.
"Your accents pretty bad," You tell him innocently, biting the inside of your cheek, "I bet I'm a better teacher than Kara."
You hear a scoff coming from the girl behind you, "You so are n–"
"Not now," He snaps gently, both hands gripping onto your respective shoulders quite rough compared to his usual tame grasp, making you and Kara spare a glance between eachother.
"Who's that, by the way," Kara asks, pointing at the helicopter just inches away from landing outside the barn.
Clark groaned at her question, his head hanging low as he kept his gaze on the grass, "Bruce Wayne."
She cheered a little at his response, clapping her hands together as she peered over his shoulder to get a good look at the...three people leaving the helicopter?
"And why does that upset you? Aren't the two of you lil buddies?" She asked, smile brightening once Dick made eye contact at her and gave her a little wave, "Plus Dicks here! And some other weird, little child."
Clark finally releases his grasp on your shoulders allowing the two of you to finally be free of his master grip, "Because this one here barely tolerates my parents. What if she tries to eat them?"
You stare at him a little funny, playing with the odd and intricate hem of the shirt you have on, leg swinging and scuffing against the ground, "Are you talking about me?"
"He thinks you're gonna eat his friend."
"What?!"
"No I–"
"Clark."
"Bruce!" Clark cheers a little too cheerfully, wrapping his arm around you and practically presenting you to the tall man stood a tad scarily in front of you, "This is the Kryptonian that just landed. She hasn't quite mastered her powers so please be aware incase she randomly floats off, or shoots lasers at you, or freezes you, or runs into you, or–"
"They have ice powers?" Jason not-so-whispers to Dick, his eyes not leaving you for one second as he takes you in. For aliens you lot sure are very...human. It's weird, if he saw you at school with no prior knowledge to anything, he'd be a thousand percent sure you were just a normal girl, like him. Well, except he's a boy...so it's just a smidge different.
"I think they like, breathe ice or something," Dick replies, playing with the grass beneath where the two were sat criss-crossed, "I dunno, I never asked."
The younger boy just hummed softly in response, eyes still stuck on you and the confused look on your face as the two large men surrounding you talk about you directly to your face, except you don't know a thing they're saying.
Do you know English? Surely not, it's only been a day since he saw your alien spaceship smack bang in the middle of a massive cornfield on the large screen of the Batcave.
But aren't Kryotonians meant to be advanced? He knows more about Tamaraneans than he does any other strange alien species that took the liberty to live on Earth of all planets for some reason. But he only knows so much from Dick yap yap yapping in his ear about Kori all the time.
He especially does not appreciate learning that the reason Kori can speak English is because Dick kissed her when they were teenagers. That is so gross.
Wait a minute...what if its the same with you? What if Bruce suddenly needs you to speak English so he can sort out some legal stuff? He's the only person currently here thats your age, and he's not too sure if he wants his first kiss to be with someone he doesn't even know.
"Ohh, I never realised there was a new Robin," Kara nodded to Dick shortly after she joined the little circle him and Jason were now making on the floor, her knees tucked to her chest as she stares down the new little boy.
Dick just kinda gave her a weird look, brows furrowed and nose kinda upturned as he stared at her as if she was an idiot, "He's been adopted for like, three months already."
"Oh, for realsies?" Kara asks, one hand stroking the fur on Krypto's head, "I don't really pay attention to all the hero and millionaire playboy stuff."
"Still haven't taken up Clark's offer?" He asks, patting his knees and wiggling his feet a bit as he starts getting antsy, "You'd be pretty good at it, I think. You seem way more powerful than Superman."
"Can we not talk about it? How's Kori–"
"Will I have to kiss her?" Jason blurts out, turning his head frantically between Dick and Kara, he himself getting confused at the way they're looking at him as though he just admitted to blowing up a building.
"Huh?" They say in sync, Dick practically shouting it, garnering the attention of Alfred who was stood by the helicopter, turning his head to the side in an attempt to hear more.
"Well, Kori learnt English from kissing Dick. You're also a race of aliens. It'd be a bit weird if Dick or Bruce or Clark kissed her so I'm the only option left. And I dunno if I wanna kiss her. Shes kinda scary. Like– why does she keep on randomly levitating? What if while I'm kissing her she shoots me with her laser eyes. What if–"
Jason's endless rambles are cut off by the sudden loud interference of Kara's laughing, physically having to lean forward due to the force of which she was cackling, actually slamming her hand on the grass a few times.
Dick was letting out a few giggles too, though his hand covered his mouth in an attempt to conceal them as to not make Jay feel too bad about what he said, given his face was already flushed.
"What? What are you two laughing at?!" Jason whined, cheeks brightening when Kara looked at him, still laughing.
"We don't even have customs like kissing on Krypton, I don't know if that'd even work, we don't even have a word for it," She giggled, genuinely wiping tears from her eyes before letting out a sigh, "Be my guest, you two can be our little test project," She teased.
Jason shook his head, standing up and walking over to Alfred, already complaining to him about what Dick and Kara just did to him. The audacity they have.
With a devious little grin Kara turns her head to you, Kal, and Bruce, giving Dick a little look before shouting, "Hey, guess what that boy over there just said about you!"
You tilt your head at her, wondering what could be so important that she felt the need to interrupt...whatever these two were on about, "What?"
"He said he wants to hug you!" She gleamed, revelling at the immediate gasp you let out and the way you started storming over to Jason.
Dick hummed in a way that sounded as if it was meant to be thoughtful, rubbing his chin, "What's she gonna do to him?"
Kara shrugged, ruffling behind Krypto's ears, "Probably punch him. I told her that he wanted to hug her, which is basically every base combined on Krypton."
"Oh...no..."
"So..." Bruce began as the jet finally lifted off, tapping his foot in a rhythm Jason vaguely recognised, "What was that all about?"
Before Jason's neurons could even react and fathom answering, Dick managed to get there first, tongue spewing what was sadly the absolute truth.
"Oh...checks out."
"Seriously?!"
a/n : this is SO bumcheeks i lowkirkuinely hate this the idea was better in my head. if u want to be tagged for future parts just ask !
: ♥︎ : content WARNING; Jason Todd × Kryptonian!Reader, insecurities, crying, mentions of panic attack, smut, piv, praising, just gentle sex, +18 MDNI.
Gotham, 2:40 AM.
Y/N sat curled in Jason’s lap on a worn velvet armchair, trembling like a leaf caught in a storm. Her luminous eyes were swollen from tears that wouldn’t stop. She clutched his shirt, her superhuman strength restrained to a fragile grip, as if letting go would unravel her entirely.
“You let go of my hand,” she whispered, barely audible.
Her words carried the weight of a child’s fear, her heart breaking under the weight of human abandonment. She pressed her face into his chest, her tears soaking through his black t-shirt.
The memory of what happened hours earlier clawed at her mind: the dizzying press of bodies, the kaleidoscope of neon signs, the clatter of voices and footsteps overwhelming her. She’d been chattering about her teddy bear-themed heels—soft, plush, absurdly human, a perfect addition to her collection—when Jason’s hand slipped from hers. Some drunk had bumped him, knocking the shopping bag to the ground, and in the split second, it took him to retrieve it, Y/N’s world collapsed. She’d stood frozen, convinced he’d left her behind forever.
Jason’s calloused hand traced slow circles on her back, his touch delicate, as if soothing a wounded bird. His own heart twisted, guilt a familiar blade in his gut. He hadn’t meant to let go... hadn’t realized how she would shatter at something so small.
“I didn’t mean to, stardust,” he murmured.
But her sobs only hitched, a soft hiccup escaping as she lifted her tear-streaked face. “I thought… I thought you were gone,” she said. “Earth—it’s so loud, Jason. So many voices, so many heartbeats, and I couldn’t find yours.”
Jason felt the way her body tensed.
He knew this feeling, knew the way it sank claws into your mind, made you feel like the world was caving in. He’d fought his own demons in alleys and nightmares, but seeing Y/N like this—his invincible, alien girl, reduced to a trembling wreck—gutted him. He pressed his lips to her forehead, then her temple, her cheek, peppering soft kisses across her face.
“I’m right here, stardust,” he whispered. “You feel me? I’m not going anywhere.”
Her lips twitched, a shaky giggle breaking through her tears at the tickle of his stubble. She tilted her face up, her eyes searching his, desperate for reassurance.
“Promise?” she asked softly.
“Swear it,” he said, his voice firm despite the ache in his chest.
He cupped her face, thumbs brushing away her tears, his rough skin a stark contrast to her radiant smoothness. Their lips met, a tentative brush that deepened into something urgent, hungry. Her hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, as if she could merge their bodies and banish the fear of separation. His tongue traced hers, tasting tears and sweetness.
Jason’s hands slid down her sides, fingers grazing the oversized hoodie she’d stolen from his drawer, its hem bunched around her thighs. Her skin was warm, impossibly soft, and he marvelled at how someone so powerful could feel so fragile under his touch. He lifted her slightly, repositioning her so she straddled his lap, her knees sinking into the armchair’s cushions.
Her hands roamed his chest, hesitant but curious.
“Jay,” she whispered against his lips, “make me feel… safe.”
He understood.
She needed to feel him, to know he was real, here, hers.
His hands slipped under her hoodie, finding the curve of her waist, the heat of her skin igniting something primal in him. But he tempered it, kept it tender, because this wasn’t just desire... it was love. He kissed her neck, his lips tracing the pulse that thrummed faster than any human’s.
“You’re safe,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”
She shivered, her fingers tangling in his dark hair as she arched into him.
He peeled the hoodie away, then the tank top, exposing the soft curve of her breasts. His lips followed, kissing a slow path down her neck, her collarbone, the valley between her breasts, tasting the faint salt of her skin. She gasped, a sound that was half sob, half moan, her fingers tangling in his dark hair as she arched into him.
Jason guided her to the plush rug before the armchair, the library’s shadows wrapping them in a cocoon of intimacy. Her shorts slid off, leaving her in simple cotton panties, her body a study in contrasts—ethereal yet trembling, divine yet achingly vulnerable.
“You’re beautiful,” he said as he pealed his own clothes.
Their bodies pressed together, skin to skin, her warmth seeping into him like a sunrise. He kissed her deeply, hands framing her face, whispering between breaths. “You’re my everything. My stardust. My home.”
Each word was a shield, warding off her panic.
His fingers hooked into her panties, sliding them down, and she shivered, her breath hitching as she lay bare before him. He parted her thighs, his touch reverent, and lowered his mouth to her, tasting her heat, her sweetness. She moaned, her hips bucking instinctively. His tongue teased her clit, drawing gasps that grew louder, more desperate.
“Jason,” she whimpered, her voice breaking, “please…”
He rose, positioning himself between her legs, his cock hard and aching as he guided it to her entrance. Her eyes locked on his, and he entered her slowly, inch by inch, feeling her tight heat envelop him. She tensed, then melted, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper. Her strength could have crushed him, but she held back, her body trembling with the effort. He moved with her, a slow rhythm, his hands stroking her thighs, her breasts, her face.
“You feel so fucking good,” he growled. “So perfect. My perfect girl.”
Her moans grew louder, her hips meeting his thrusts, her fingers digging into his shoulders. He angled himself, hitting the spot that made her gasp, her body arching beneath him.
“Jason… I—I’m…” Her words dissolved into a cry as her climax hit, her walls clenching around him, her body shaking with the force of it.
He watched her, memorizing every detail; the way her lips parted, her eyes fluttered shut, the soft glow of her skin as she came undone.
“That’s it, baby,” he murmured, kissing her neck, her jaw. “I’ve got you.”
He followed moments later, his release a shuddering wave, spilling into her as he buried his face in her neck, whispering her name like a mantra. They collapsed together, tangled on the rug, her head on his chest, his heartbeat a steady drum under her ear.
Her tears had dried, replaced by a sated smile.
“You didn’t let go,” she whispered.
“Never will,” Jason replied, kissing her hair, his arms tight around her. “Promise.”
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
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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!
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.
