#dceu imagines
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Backdrop: Life had been mundane until you met Clark Kent.
Pairing: clark kent x fem!reader
Warnings: None, probably some grammatical errors and a little sadness if you’re a sap like me.
A's notes: inspired by ariana grande’s new album eternal sunshine, i’ll be doing a series of one shots based on the songs. they’ll be in no particular order and will be written for other characters but some will be featured more than once if they fit the song i’m writing about. ‘we cant be friends’ has me crying whenever i watch the video and i tear up a lot listening to it so enjoy this train wreck of a story.
Word count: 3.8k
For as long as you could remember, life was nothing special. It wasn’t horrible but you woke up most days simply doing work and trying to advance your career. Your life was mundane and filled with memories of you alone after moving to Metropolis. That was until you met him. Clark Kent. You had bumped into each other on your way into the Daily Planet for an interview. Well, it was actually you bumping into his broad chest and him catching you before you hit the marble floor. The softness in his deep ocean blue eyes were what made your heart do something it had never done. It felt like a pull in your chest that you hadn’t felt before. As if the universe made sense. Once you finally registered his apologies, you came to your senses and tried to apologize for not watching where you were going. Then he smiled. Now your stomach fluttered. That was not something your body usually did when it came to people. After he introduced himself, it was as if the world had color to it again.
It would be an understatement to say that you fell for Clark Kent. You deeply fell for Clark. Words could not express the love you instantly felt for him. And he fell just as hard for you. When he revealed his true identity to you, it only solidified the endless bounty of your love for him since he was willing to trust you with every part of himself that he didn’t share with the rest of the world. Life seemed to finally be worth living and getting up for. Every morning you rose with the sun and slowly forgot about those meek feelings that used to fill your body.
It wasn’t hard for the two of you to make some of the happiest memories together. Your then-apartment had been littered with trinkets that marked your happiest moments with Clark. Like the teddy bear he won for you when he took you to a carnival in his Kansas hometown. Or the homemade picture frame that had a silly selfie Clark took of the two of you while at work. Once you moved in together, the apartment you shared was filled with more memories the two of you made together. As a house warming gift, he presented you with a beautiful pendant necklace with both your birthstones that came together to make a heart. It’s a necklace you wear everyday and became a reminder that someone loved you unconditionally. When he proposed to you atop the ferris wheel, the ring was designed to match the necklace. Your wedding was small and intimate with just friends and family in attendance on the Kent family farm. It was the highlight of your life to be marrying the man of your dreams.
Life wasn’t always perfect with Clark though. Sharing your boyfriend (and eventual husband) with the world was not the easiest task to undertake but when he came home to you, those insecurities subsided. But those pesky feelings still lingered. Feelings of being unwanted and insecurities plagued the back of your mind. Besides, the Daily Planet constantly wrote puff pieces of his alter ego - with a few being written by you. As time passed and the world became more cruel, it became harder to keep those thoughts hidden. Little by little, those insecurities reared their ugly heads that led to some of the lowest of lows in your life since meeting Clark. He didn’t seem to understand why you were feeling as such and justified his work that it was his life’s purpose. And you didn’t seem to understand why he couldn’t empathize with your feelings. You stood by him through thick and thin. Through the good, the bad, and the ugly that came with being Superman. You weren’t perfect either, though. You were an ambitious reporter and were climbing up in your career at the Daily Planet. Your work also came with some ugliness as you advanced in your career. This meant that the two of you were in the spotlight for your work. Two very different spotlights but spotlights nonetheless.
It hit particularly hard the one argument that ensued after he missed your first wedding anniversary. It was an important milestone that you had planned out for weeks. You had made reservations at the restaurant you had your first date on and he didn’t make an appearance until the morning hours of the following day. You had looked like a fool at the restaurant; patrons giving you looks of pity as you sipped on your water and twiddled your thumbs like a fool waiting for him. When he greeted you with a bouquet of lilies - the first drop of uneasiness touched your chest. You weren’t happy to see him. To see his sweet face you’d kissed good morning the morning before. To see his ocean eyes that carried such sincerity because he had broken a promise to you. He could see that he couldn’t avoid a fight with you because you didn’t look at him with love. Your eyes were filled with disappointment. The argument that ensued ended with him leaving for most of the day as you sobbed into your pillow. When he had returned you had awoken only to softly cry yourself to sleep again.
It took two days for the two of you to speak again and work through the argument. You both tried to be more mindful and quickly moved on from the unhappy moment. A part of you was content with the conversation and hopeful for what was to come with Clark. It wasn’t the first fight you two had but it was the first that hurt you so deeply.
Nothing could’ve prepared you for the day you had asked for a divorce from Clark. It wasn’t something you planned but it wasn’t something you hadn’t contemplated in the recent year after your third wedding anniversary. It had come out of your mouth after another argument that was going nowhere. You had argued about how you were growing apart - how you had taken time off after planning to go away for a small vacation just the two of you and he wasn’t putting in the effort. He had come home late but it wasn’t because of him being Superman. It was because he worked late with Lois Lane on a story after he had told you that morning he’d be home to go on the trip. You were prepared to forgive him if it was because of his Superman duties but this was the last straw.
You weren’t the jealous type but even at work, it seemed like the two of you barely spoke as the years progressed. He got paired up with Lois for more stories and you didn’t like the sinking twist of your stomach whenever you saw Clark with her. They looked cute together and probably the office assumed he was sleeping with her given how flirty they tended to be (at least she was). The first time he noticed how much it bothered you, he assured you with his words and actions that he felt nothing for the reporter. He went as far as to give you a passionate kiss in the middle of the office, in front of Lois, as you bid him goodbye to go to an interview for a story you were writing. It had made you weak in the knees and you were close to pulling him into the archives room to continue the passion but you simply blushed and told him you loved him with the most love struck smile on your face. That squashed those insecurities for a while until you started noticing how close they’d sit together while brainstorming or how he began to stay later with her to work on a story. You tried not to be the jealous wife but you couldn’t help the green monster that was building on your fears and insecurities. The few times you brought it up afterwards, Clark was dismissive about your feelings. It hurt you. Hurt how little he seemed to care about your feelings.
From there, arguments were becoming more common. Filled with silence or one of you leaving the apartment for some time. It had become common practice to not speak to each other and eventually move on from the argument. You hated that your marriage had come to this point. After the last argument, you had left the apartment this time. You checked into a hotel and went to the bar for a drink. You looked at your ring and a tear ran down your cheek realizing that it didn’t give you hope. It didn’t give you the feeling you were hoping for because deep down, you knew that you couldn’t continue in the marriage if it wasn’t going to be mended. You had run the course of the marriage and it pained you. When you returned two days later, Clark was making lunch for both of you. He was prepared to go on the trip and put the argument behind. Your heart was racing because you didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to end something you had hoped would never end but it had to end. You needed to be the one to make Clark realize that the two of you weren’t going to get the happy ending. Not with each other. You were prepared for him to be upset and yell and express every reasonable emotion. When you uttered those terrible words, he simply froze and you could see his heart shatter from the look he gave you because he knew you were going to see the divorce through. The day ended with you packing your things and going back to the hotel, retaining a divorce lawyer and hunting for apartments. You had managed to find a job as a journalist for a small paper and put in your two weeks at the Daily Planet. By the end of it all, all you gave Clark was a letter asking for forgiveness for ending your marriage. Detailing all the love you had for him was genuine and would always remain but that for now, your paths had to separate. You ended the letter acknowledging that the two of you couldn’t be friends but that you’d wait for that day to come. Wait for the day that he’d like you again. You’d wait for his love again.
Clark’s heartbreak was just about close to unbearable as he didn’t pull his punches during missions and even Bruce had to pull him back from time to time. He had clung to that letter you wrote him and cried so hard the day he received it. Beating himself up for letting one of the most important people in his life feel the need to cut ties with him. Letting you feel like you had to end your story together. You weren’t fairing much better. For the first few months, you were crying yourself to sleep almost daily. Life had become mundane and when you thought of Clark, it became sad and lonely. You hated the pain you felt in your chest that had spread to your whole body.
A coworker at your new job had seen how sad you were about your divorce and handed you an ad about Wayne Enterprises having technology that claimed to erase people from your memory. A part of you didn’t think such a thing existed but you knew Bruce wouldn’t build something if it didn’t work. When Bruce Wayne saw your name on the list of possible subjects, he reached out to you. Meaning, he paid a visit at your current apartment that was now closer to Gotham. You had known Bruce through Clark and knew of his alter-ego as well. Batman had actually saved you a few times when you were in Gotham chasing leads and doing interviews. When he first met you, Clark and you had been together for a year and had been invited to one of Bruce’s fancy charity events. He had seen how in love you two were. He hadn’t seen Clark so happy before you came into his life and he could see the adoration you held for the Kryptonian. Clark had even said to him that night that he was going to marry you. It warmed his heart to see how happy you two had made each other in such a short period of time.
You had ironically decided to have the procedure done on what would’ve been your fourth wedding anniversary. You looked down at the box that contained every memory attached to Clark. The receptionist had handed you a clipboard with a waiver to sign; giving Wayne Enterprises permission to move forward with the process. A nurse came out to call your name and you handed her the clipboard. She brought you inside and took the box of your memories. You sat down and took deep breaths, the nurse giving you a few minutes as she left to get he others for the procedure. You looked around at the room, it was meant to look comfortable given the severity of the process. There was a mirror on the wall to your right. You figured it was part of the original room and that maybe on the other side were boxes of other people’s memories.
On the other side of the mirror, Clark stood looking at your nervous self that waited for the technicians to arrive. Bruce had elected to do the procedure himself for his friend after informing him that you had signed up for it yourself. Clark had come in on the same day per Bruce’s request since he figured it was best for it to be done on the same day for the both of you. Clark had come in with a box full of memories connected to you. Pictures that he had of you and different items you had gotten him through the years such as the bracelet you made for him while he was away on a mission with the Justice League. You had put beads with your initials on the bracelet and just like you wore your necklace, he wore his bracelet. The box also contained a picture he had taken of you out on his parent’s farm the weekend he brought you home to meet Ma Kent. The box unsurprisingly contained a great deal of pictures of you that he took. Some silly ones, cute ones, romantic and his most cherished one was at the top of the pile. It was a picture of the two of you kissing on your wedding day. Clark had taken it himself with his digital camera he carried everywhere with him. His other favorite picture was one of you under the covers, smiling and looking so peaceful and happy as he took the picture, wearing one of his flannels. It was taken the morning after he proposed to you. You had a picture of Clark in your box that you had taken a few seconds after he took that photo. He didn’t want to put anything in the box and be selfish but he knew for it to work, he had to follow Bruce’s instruction. The one item that wasn’t in the box was the letter you wrote him after your divorce. The one that solidified your parting of ways. He gave the letter to Bruce and told him wished he hadn’t made you feel so hurt that you had to do this.
With that, the billionaire decided to tell his friend that this wasn’t the first time the two of you had gone through this procedure. Two years prior to the two of you meeting, you both had been together for three years and had a great falling out that ended the relationship. It was enough to bring the both of you, at separate times, to him and ask to have your memories of each other erased. Bruce wanted to tell you but the sadness reflected in your eyes was enough to keep his mouth shut. Maybe deep down you knew that this wasn’t the first time you wanted to erase Clark from your life. You loved him so deeply that the only way for life to move forward again, he had to be erased. Clark didn’t realize he was crying as he heard his friend recount the first time you two had come in and watched you play with the pendant necklace he gave you when you moved in together. He still remembers how nervous he was to gift it to you; worried it was not going to be your style. He remembers how his heart leaped when you squealed with joy at the present. His heart felt heavy knowing you still wore the necklace despite being divorced. It was bittersweet hope that maybe you’d be able to try again without having to do this. He wanted to break through the window and beg you not to forget him but he knew that once your mind was made up, you saw it through. So, he sat down and asked Bruce to erase his memories of your relationship. All Clark wanted was for you to be happy. If that meant erasing him, he would learn to live with that.
As you closed your eyes, recounting the countless memories you had made with Clark for the last five years, it was hard to hold back the few tears that wet your cheeks. Your breathing got heavy as Clark disappeared from your life. Your fingers reached for your necklace - the remaining piece of the love you were erasing from your entire being. You looked at the nurses beside you, asking with teary eyes if you could keep just this one memory for yourself. You softly begged them as one nurse held your hand and told you that it was going to be okay, that the process was almost complete. You took in a shaky breath and closed your eyes as your fingers cling to the pendant; feeling the final memory of Clark’s ocean eyes fade.
When you opened your eyes again, you were slightly disoriented but greeted with the kind face of the nurse. She asked if you were okay and you smiled. You knew whatever just happened, it worked because there was a lightness in your chest. It felt as though you were brand new. As you stood from the chair, you thanked everyone. Without noticing, Bruce Wayne had come in to the room to congratulate you on the success of the procedure. You thanked the billionaire and went about your day. You took in the crisp afternoon air of Gotham and headed back your apartment. Clark came out the building a few minutes after you.
A few years later, life was certainly different. You had landed a job working for the Gotham Gazette as the lead investigative reporter and had made a name for yourself. You were content with life but there was something missing. At night, you found yourself out on dates that never led anywhere. On the nights where it was particularly bad, you phoned your billionaire friend Bruce Wayne whom you grew closer to in the following years with working at the Gazette. He became a confidant for your woes and wishes of your life. Bruce had come to deeply care about you after you had the procedure. Part of the reason was because Clark asked him to look out for you since he wouldn’t be able to. He couldn’t help to grow close to you because you were that type of soul that brought a warmth and comfort he hadn’t felt since he lost his parents.
Clark had focused on his work in the following years of his procedure. He had struck a relationship with his coworker, Lois Lane. They had been together for three years but it wasn’t working. Mainly because Clark hadn’t felt he could spend his life with her. She was beautiful, smart, ambitious and just about everything he could ask for in a partner but there was something missing. He couldn’t put his finger on it and quite frankly it killed him to continue in a relationship he knew wasn’t going to end in marriage.
Bruce had invited you to his charity event to raise money for the orphaned children of Gotham. He always invited you since he knew it could be good for networking for you and every now and then, you would get a date out of it. Clark and the other Justice League members were in attendance for this event as they knew this was an important cause for Bruce. Clark had just broken up with Lois the week prior and had been sulking, He originally wasn’t going to attend the event but Bruce and the others convinced him that a night out would be good for him.
A couple of hours into the event and you find yourself feeling out of place. Especially with the dress you chose; it was from a thrift shop you had found in Gotham and it had more of a bohemian look to it rather than the posh aura the other attendees wore. Bruce had checked in with you a few times to make sure you were okay; knowing how intense the scene of the Gotham elite could be and assuring you in the process of how beautiful you looked. You found yourself at the bar, grabbing what seemed to be your fifth flute of champagne for the night. Your spacial awareness was starting to go so it wasn’t surprising when you bumped into a large figure at your side, spilling some of your drink on him. You were a mess apologizing to the man. You were expecting him to make fuss but it was a pleasant surprise when you heard him softly chuckling at you. You were flushed with embarrassment but when you stared into the eyes of the man, your heart stopped. Meeting his deep blue eyes spread a warmth the champagne earlier hadn’t achieved. His heart also seemed to stop upon meeting your gaze. Your eyes made him feel like he had finally come home after a long journey of searching.
To continue having you in his presence, he joked that you owed him a dance in order to make up for ever so slightly wetting the sleeve of his navy blue suit. Hearing the slight mischievous tone only made you laugh in agreement, a sound he already found addicting. When he pulled you close to him, you hoped he couldn’t hear how hard your heart was beating. As you followed his lead, you relaxed and he took the opportunity to ask for your name.
“Y/N.”
“Clark.”
#clark kent imagine#superman imagine#clark kent x reader#superman x reader#clark kent fanfiction#superman fanfiction#henry cavill superman#henry cavill superman x reader#henry cavill x reader#henry cavill fanfiction#dc imagine#dc imagines#dceu imagine#dceu imagines#eternal sunshine series
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LOVED living a lie! I need to see a part two where reader finally has the family she’s always wanted with someone else and Bruce is forced to watch through pictures she sends Alfred who shows Bruce. Kind of based on that Taylor swift song Last Kiss. I want the angst to leave me heartbroken. If you can’t and you have something else in mind that is totally fine 😊
He was a lonely, little boy, waiting for his schoolyard playmate to return
♥️ Clark Kent x Former! Batgirl Reader + Bruce Wayne x Ex Wife! Reader | angst | short AF | Gotham is in Illinois I guess | Bruce done fucked up | happy ending! But not for Bruce
♥️I don't even know what to say other than this is at least five months overdue 😶 welcome to the renaissance...?
♥️part two of Living A Lie | masterlist | requests CLOSED | I will never apologize for Tom Welling! Clark Kent being the only valid Clark Kent 🥹 but I guess technically it can be whatever Clark Kent you want; this post was queued at 1:30 because Star is a dumbass and doesn't ever sleep even when she had class!!!!! EDIT: I just reread the first part. Bruce and Y/n were engaged 😶not married. So I'm going to make a quick edit to the first chapter and if you remember that mistake, no you don't
Mr Pennyworth was a former MI agent, and this fact might have attested for him being a remarkable liar.
Even to Master Bruce.
It was easy to say that he wasn't sure what Mistress Y/n was up to when Bruce mustered up the courage to ask, his shoulders rounded at the edges like the worn cover of a hardback book. But hardback books were typically worn because they were loved; Bruce was worn because he had no love.
The divorce had been finalized for at least an entire year, now. The state of Illinois requires that a couple has irreconcilable differences before divorcing, and any couple who has been separated for at least six months already is assumed to be in the daunting face of irreconcilable differences. The easy part about this was that Mistress Y/n could say that she wanted children and Master Bruce didn't: that was a difference that was irreconcilable by nature. Pepper in the fact that she had caught him in a compromising position and she had been granted her divorce exactly nine months and seven days after she'd left the gala in tears with the vague feeling her whole world on the verge of collapse.
Mr Pennyworth was a liar because he knew what Mistress Y/n was up to-and he didn't call her Mistress anymore. He called her Y/n, or Miss, because some things never change.
While Bruce had always been like the dark side of the moon, Y/n had been transformed into the sun. She'd gained weight: her face was plump and her tummy had rounded out.
Her eyes were alight with a new regard for life.
And her hand was typically intertwined with a man's. One man.
He was taller than Bruce; perhaps his shoulders were somewhat wider, and his eyes a starkly deeper blue. His hair was curly and dark, and he regarded you with a love so strong it made even Alfred’s heart sing.
So, Mr Pennyworth was a liar because he knew exactly what “Mistress Y/n” was up to. She was celebrating with her friends the unexpected pregnancy she'd tested positive for after two years, eight months, and twelve days.
There was nothing bittersweet about it. Alfred loved Bruce deeply, like his own child, but he could see where Bruce had greatly fumbled the ball.
No, there was nothing bittersweet about this pregnancy.
Alfred had been aware of everything Y/n was up to because she stayed in contact with him. Sometimes the two met for lunch in Star City. He was family to her and she didn't have much of that, so how could he break such ties for Master Bruce’s sake? He couldn't. That's how.
Even though he loved Bruce so dearly-like his own flesh and blood!-he wouldn't resign himself to forfeiting a relationship with a dear friend.
If he loved Bruce like a son, then Y/n was certainly his daughter.
He knew that Y/n was shocked at the sudden pregnancy. He knew that she had been frightened at first-too frightened to tell her boyfriend. She had gone to Alfred first, afterall. She was on the cusp of tears; she tried so hard to stay composed on the line.
Like a father would, Alfred had calmed Y/n down; soothed her, gave her encouragement, and convinced her to tell her boyfriend.
The man in question was over the moon with happiness. Not that Alfred had any doubts in the matter. He had suspected the man in question would be rather happy.
It was just a few days later that Y/n informed Alfred she was now engaged, just for tradition’s sake.
There was a lovely little engagement party, and then a small, Metropolis courthouse wedding ceremony where Alfred had been Y/n’s witness. She wore a lovely, knee length white dress with a net wedding veil. She wore baby blue, wrist length velvet gloves, which had actually belonged to Alfred’s late wife. That was her something borrowed and something blue.
The groom bore a stunning black suit, with his curly hair swept back and a pair of thick, black glasses sitting on his nose.
Y/n had briefly been an L/n once more, but she looked her happiest when she was officially declared a Kent. It didn't seem to matter that the wedding was rushed. Alfred had a suspicion that this engagement had been a one sided plan for a few months, now; judging from the way Clark had heartily shaken hands with Alfred while sweating up and down to keep her happy , Alfred could just tell that he'd been planning this for a little while longer than he was letting on. From the calculated respect you both regarded the other with, to the mutual love and adoration, it was easy to see that you had found your true love.
Upon the conclusion of the ceremony, the wedding party loitered on the courthouse steps with the groom conversing happily with his witness while Y/n and her own did the same.
“Won't you stay a little while?” Y/n asked Alfred. She had plucked the hair pins out of her head, removing the net veil and moving her hair back into standard position. “I miss you.”
Alfred kissed the top of Y/n’s head.
She didn't know that he missed her, too; very greatly. Alfred would never tell her that her presence in the manor had always been reassuring. She had been, for lack of a better term, his security blanket. She had kept Bruce happy and well grounded. Alfred had unfortunately become dependent on her for that sense of ease.
Guilt often chewed him away for this.
Bruce’s well-being was pinned on her for a long time, and now that she was gone? Alfred worried for his master.
However, that isn't the only reason he misses seeing you prance happily around like a child in big girl clothes.
Truth be told, Alfred tended to see children when he looked at both you and Bruce. A little girl with her boy, dragging him around and playing happily while he pretended he didn't like it--but he actually did.
Where had the time gone?
Looking at you now, in your vintage wedding gown on the steps of the courthouse, he sees a child still. So wide eyed and happy spirited. You'd always be this way. Always.
“I miss you, too,” Alfred told her. “I'm never far away. Is a forty five minute drive too much for you to bear?”
Y/n rolled her eyes with faux contempt. “I suppose not. But it's forty five minutes both ways! Oh.” She started to pull the gloves off by the fingers when she remembered them.
Alfred stopped her. “Keep them,” he implored her. “I want one of my children to have family heirlooms.”
Struck by sudden emotion, Y/n’s smile fell into a quivering pucker of lips as she hugged Alfred tight. “I love you.”
Alfred kissed her hair one more time. “I love you, too.”
Mr Pennyworth would lie that evening when he returned home. Given that he'd been asleep all day, Master Bruce was none the wiser of Alfred’s trip to the city.
Home was home, still.
The manor was the same as it had always been and likely always would be.
He trekked up the staircase to awaken his master-the one child he still had to worry about.
“Long day, Alfred?” Bruce asked in a thick, tired voice as he slowly peeled out of his bed. His torso was beaten; ghastly swollen and painted with thick, scabbed over gashes.
Mr Pennyworth helped Bruce into a button down shirt.
“Not at all, sir,” Mr Pennyworth said. “Mistress Al Ghul has left a message for you, sir, something regarding the usual issue. Shall I call her?”
Bruce waved a hand. “No,” he groaned. “I’ll…do something. Any other messages?”
“None, sir.”
“None?”
“You heard me correctly, sir. Shall I prepare a meal?”
“Breakfast sounds lovely.”
“Does dinner for a human qualify as breakfast for a bat, sir?” Mr Pennyworth quipped.
“I should think so,” Bruce muttered.
“Very well,” Mr Pennyworth confirmed with a nod. He made a turn out of the room before glancing back to Bruce to ask one more question.
A little boy with weary eyes and an oversized shirt hunched his shoulders. "When will Y/n come back to play?” the boy asked in a soft voice.
Mr Pennyworth’s earlier question was long forgotten as his mouth went dry. “...Pardon me, sir?” Mr Pennyworth said as he feigned absence of a belly ache.
It took only a blink for Alfred to see Bruce's tre self: grown and hunched at the shoulders, buttoning up his shirt as he tried to appear neutral. “Have you heard from Y/n recently?” Bruce repeated.
Mr Pennyworth weighed his options in half a second. Y/bwouldn't be angry for Bruce to know the truth-it wasn't Y/n's sake he was keeping things a secret for, however. Unlike Bruce, Y/n was understanding. She would have been just fine to know what Bruce had been up to. But Bruce was rash. He was quick to judge, whether in others or on himself. It's that reason that Mr Pennyworth suavely replied, "I have not, sir. Did you require anything else?”
Defeat echoed in Bruce's eyes. “That's all,” he said.
He was a lonely, little boy, waiting for his schoolyard playmate to return and drag him around. But she never would.
That's one thing Alfred would never lie about.
#clark kent x reader#bruce wayne x reader#the batman x reader#the Batman imagine#Superman x reader#Smallville#?#how the fuck do I tag this?!#i wish queue well#bruce wayne imagine#dceu imagines#dceu x reader#dc x reader#dc imagines#requested!#starfirette renaissance#starfirette writes
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Raise Hell
Pairing: Selina Kyle x Gender Neutral!Reader
Summary: Selina takes you on a double date with Harley and Ivy.
A night out on the town in Gotham usually meant all sorts of mayhem, especially whenever you joined in with Selina and her best friends. You had been nervous at first hanging out with them, but the four of you had become quite the tight-knit group. More often than not, you and Harley spent your time causing chaos while Selina and Ivy tried their best to control some of it. Harley had been the first to welcome you into the group as a friend. Selina had obviously told Ivy about the two of you sneaking off in Arkham, back before anybody paid much attention to who you were.
The next time Harley had gotten herself locked up, she had broken you out with her, claiming that the two of you needed to talk anyways. You had hidden out with Harley for a few days before Selina came to get you. Ivy apologized to both of you, not having thought Harley would practically kidnap you in order to figure out whether or not you were good enough for Selina. By the end of your stay at Harley's safe house, you had been deemed the fourth member of their posse. The longer you hung around them, the more each of them realized just how much you had in common with them. That had been what prompted Selina to ask you to be her partner instead of just an acquaintance with benefits.
"Do you remember what you promised me for tonight?" Selina asked as the two of you walked towards the club where Harley and Ivy were supposed to be waiting. Since it was just a simple night out, you had opted for wearing a pair of jeans and a black t-shirt, but kept your "head stomping" boots on just in case all hell broke loose.
"Yeah, yeah, best behavior. Don't worry, you'd hate for someone to get the impression I can't be trusted around Harley," you joked. That impression had been placed on almost everyone in Gotham, but especially Batman. It wasn't often that people managed to really get one up on him, but the two of you had created such a mess one night that he couldn't afford to chase after the two of you.
"Honey, I don't think there's a single Gothamite that would trust you and Harley to behave yourselves for a single night. It's almost like the two of you were born to raise hell," Selina told you. You rolled your eyes at the dramatics in her statement, despite them being pretty much true. Together, you and Harley could do more damage than almost anyone else could dream of.
"I'll be good, but just for you," you promised. Selina smiled as you leaned in to give her a quick kiss. Selina seemed to be a bit more relaxed, but the second the two of you got into the club, it all went out the window. Some of your former cell block mates were in the corner chatting with Harley, who was sitting on the bar while Ivy sat back looking bored out of her mind.
"Thank god the two of you are here. Y/n, can you go get her down from there please? She's been up there for the past half hour getting them in on some plan." You hadn't waited for Ivy to finish talking before you went over to the table to join your old friends. Harley perked when she saw you, breaking mid-sentence to hop down from the bar and run into your arms. A few of the guys backed away from the group, but the majority of them greeted you with bright smiles and a couple hugs. "They were one of them, weren't they?"
"Yep, leader of the block actually," Selina groaned. Ivy sighed, knowing that they were in for a long night. You and Harley chatted with the guys for a little while longer before you ordered drinks to bring to Selina and Ivy as an apology for taking so long.
"Champagne for the ladies," you said as you set the glasses down on the table. Harley took her spot on Ivy's lap as you sat down next to Selina and wrapped your arm around her shoulders. "There's a warehouse shipment of Wayne Tech that the guys would be happy to keep clear if we agree to share the cut."
"No business on pleasure nights," Selina warned. You nodded, but could tell by the glint in her eyes that she was interested. Selina was a quiet thief, but your methods were more of causing a big diversion, stashing the loot, and then coming back for it after a jail break or you were released. The police liked holding you in Arkham while they unsuccessfully searched for the item that you apparently stole. You just had to wait for them to come back with their tails between their legs to let you out because technically, they had no evidence of you stealing anything at all.
"That's right. Whatever gets blown up is just for fun!" Harley exclaimed. Ivy pinched the bridge of her nose as she let out a tired breath. You raised your glass to that, knowing that once the two of you left the club, Selina would most likely call off the "best behavior" thing as long as the four of you didn't get kicked out.
"We could always leave them here and just go home," Selina suggested. "Maybe even leave them in jail for the night and do a spa thing. I've got some pretty good connections."
"That's a great idea. You guys go be boring at home while Y/n and I play a game with Bats to see how long it takes him to stop us tonight. I think we can get a good 4 hours if he's alone," Harley said. You leaned forward, doubting that it'd be that long, especially since you had seen one of the Batgirls running around the city earlier.
"Nah, we've got 2 and a half, maybe three if nobody here has sent out a warning yet," you said. Harley was the first one out of her seat and you were quick to follow. You had expected Selina and Ivy to tag along, but whenever you looked behind you, they were nowhere to be found. Gotham was in for one hell of a night.
#dceu imagines#dceu imagine#dceu#dceu x reader#selina kyle x reader#selina kyle#selina kyle imagine#selina kyle imagines#catwoman#catwoman x reader#catwoman imagine#catwoman imagines
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Dread filled you as you realized what predicament you were in while staring at Orm and your sister, Mera. The announcement of their engagement had just been told, and you had never wanted to hide so much in your life. You were in love with the king and now...could never tell him as your sister was the one who would marry him.
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i don't own the gifs.
#sailorsolar12#imagine#imagines#fanfiction#aquaman#aquaman imagine#aquaman imagines#aquaman fanfiction#aquaman headcanons#mera#orm#orm imagines#orm imagine#orm fanfiction#dc#dc imagine#dc fanfiction#dceu#dceu imagine#dceu imagines#dceu fanfiction#dc imagines
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Haunted Asylum
TITLE: Haunted Asylum
PAIRING: Joker/OC (implied)
RATING: T
CHAPTER: One-shot
SUMMARY: Arkham reopens its doors as a haunted location and the spirit of the Joker develops a less conventional relationship with one of the tour guides, Keslie.
[A/N - Inspired by an imagine over at @theartofimagining13. This got more psychological than I intended.]
The Joker was the last person to die at Arkham Asylum before it closed.
The workers said that there was no humanity left in him when he died. So much so that he was housed in the maximum-security ward.
After his death, the president of Arkham didn’t see the point of it being open anymore. All the remaining patients were transferred to other facilities and it closed its doors.
50 years later, it reopened its doors.
People started reporting hearing strange laughter coming from the maximum-security ward. They reported being pushed and having their hair pulled, followed by a sinister laugh in their ear.
They shut it down again and started marketing it as a haunted attraction.
This was how Keslie came to work at Arkham Asylum as a tour guide. She’d always been fascinated by haunted places, but Gotham had few of those. She felt drawn to the location so she applied and was offered the position.
The first place she went after being hired was the maximum-security ward to introduce herself to the Joker. As soon as she opened the doors, she could feel the oppressive nature of his spirit.
“Hello, Mr. J. My name’s Keslie and I’ll be one of the tour guides here.”
The oppressive atmosphere lifted, almost like he appreciated her manners.
“I know we probably won’t be friends, but I’d like to be as cordial as possible. That means no shoving me or pulling my hair, got it?”
Keslie was met with silence. As she was leaving, she felt something cold brush her cheek. “See you tomorrow, Mr. J!”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
About a week into her new job is when she started having dreams, or rather nightmares, involving the Joker.
In the first one, she was strapped to a table and he was standing over her grinning wildly and holding shocking implements.
“Oh, I’m not gonna kill ya. I’m just gonna hurt’cha really, really, badly.” He placed the implements on her temples and she shot up in bed.
There was a presence in the room with her. She could feel it. “Mr. J?”
Had he followed her home from the asylum? She’d read that negative or malicious spirits were capable of that. She didn’t sleep for the rest of the night.
When she arrived at work the next day, she went into the room the Joker had died in.
There were scribbles all over the wall and floor that looked like they had been written in blood. In the center of the room was a fresh Joker playing card.
Keslie picked up the playing card and flipped it over.
A Queen of Hearts was taped to the back.
She stuffed the card into her pocket and vowed to never tell anyone about it.
The door slammed shut behind her and locked.
Keslie banged on the door and screamed for someone to let her out, but she was the only one in this wing. It could be hours before they realized she was locked in this cell.
Keslie felt a shiver go down her back and she knew she wasn’t alone.
“Keslie…” a voice whispered.
“M…Mr. J?" she asked.
Keslie started to feel lightheaded and her vision became hazy. She heard the voice whisper her name again as she hit the floor.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
She was standing above a vat of bubbling green acid.
“Question…” a voice purred.
Keslie spun around and there stood the Joker.
Green hair and pale skin, dressed in a dark maroon dress shirt and suspenders. “Would you die for me?” he asked her.
Wait. Wasn’t Harley supposed to be in her place? Why was she seeing this? Could she influence this vision?
“Die for you?” Keslie asked.
“Let me ask it a different way. Would you live for me? Would you be my living, breathing, agent of chaos?”
Was this what his spirit wanted? For someone to carry on in his name? To wreak havoc on Gotham in his stead?
“Before you answer, careful. Do not say this oath thoughtlessly. Desire becomes surrender, surrender becomes power. Do you want this? If you say yes, I will guide you. I will teach you.”
The Joker could tell that Keslie was seriously considering it. “Say it. Say it, say it. Pretty, pretty, pretty, please.” He walked towards Keslie and she backed up, until the heels of her feet were touching the edge.
“You will be my Harlequin.” Without answering, the Joker pushed her.
Keslie gasped and she felt herself falling.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Keslie woke up on the floor of the Joker’s cell with one thought on her mind.
Blowing Arkham Asylum up.
She didn’t care whether people were in the building or not.
“Rise, my Harlequin.”
Keslie stood up and fluffed her hair before she pranced out of the room. She could hear the Joker laughing in her head.
“We’re going to have so much fun.”
#joker imagines#the joker#joker#joker/oc#suicide squad#suicide squad imagines#DC#DC imagines#DCEU#DCEU imagines#au imagines#au stories
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Characters I Like
This is a list of characters I would like to write for, by universe.
MCU
Almost all MCU women
DCEU/Arrowverse
Kara and Alex Danvers
Sara and Laurel Lance
Thea Queen
Diana Prince
Poison Ivy (from Harley Quinn series)
Harley Quinn (S.S. or Harley Quinn series)
Mera (NOT AMBER HEARD, yuck)
Nyssa Al Ghul
TVDU/Originals/Legacies
Rebekah Mikaelson
Hayley Marshall
Hope Mikaelson
Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon
Daenerys Targaryen
Rhaenyra Targaryen
Real Life
Elizabeth Olsen
Scarlett Johansson
Hailee Steinfeld
Florence Pugh
If there are others you’d like to see, I will have a look over your request.
#mcu imagines#dceu imagines#arrowverse imagines#tvdu imagines#originals imagines#legacies imagines#game of thrones imagines#house of the dragon imagines
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Dick/Nightwing flirting headcanons
TW: fluff, suggestive stuff, dick being a show off and a charming bastard.
Ok first of all we all know how dick is.
Always showing off how flexible he is when you are both out on patrol
Loves to impress you with his gymnastics
Whenever he sees you in the Justice League tower he will not hesitate to flirt with you
And when you’re alone? Oh boy it’s his time
Either pins you to the nearest wall or makes you sit on his lap. He absolutely adores your reactions
Stealing kisses off of you whenever you are focused on something just to hear your complains
When no one else from the batfamily is in the batcave he practically begs Bruce to let him be your partner on missions
Whispers dirty things in your ear or lightly grips your ass when no one is looking
Throws winks at you while Bruce explains the mission you’re supposed to be paying attention to
Loves playing with your hair twisting and twirling the strands around with his fingers
He somehow always manages to get you both alone on patrol so you could have his undivided attention
[AND WE’RE BACK PEOPLE. Wanted to write some dick headcanons for a while so here you go!]
#dc x reader#dick grayson imagine#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson fanfiction#dick grayson smut#dick grayson#dick grayson fluff#dick grayson headcanon#dceu#dcu#dc universe#nightwing imagine#nightwing x reader#nightwing smut#nightwing
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𝐒𝐀𝐅𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐄.
part one — part two
𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞. the wayne family witness how you handle jason’s trauma.
𝖕𝖆𝖎𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. jason todd x addams!male reader
𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘. sfw content, foul language, trauma, nightmares, mentions of torture, typical addams behavior (dark, edgy, gothic, disturbing behavior), romantic, death threats, soft addams!reader, mentions of a very dark and gruesome fictional book, dealing with trauma, fluff, lots of fluff, everything’s just soft
𝖆𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊. can't help it, i really enjoy writing addams!reader content. honestly, it's kinda getting old but i guess this will be the last one??? or one more and then i'll end its endless cycle?? anyway, if y'all have any recommended translation apps it'll be nice to know. don't wanna trust google translate that much.
FEM ALIGNED DNI !!
“Why are you awake so early in the morning?”
Bruce’s slightly raspy morning voice interrupts the silent reading you had indulged yourself in, barely reacting at his sudden presence despite the fact you failed to notice him from how focused you were on your book.
You glanced at him only for a split second before your eyes went back to reading again, “I prefer the quietness of your manor in the morning for a quick read. Although, I must say the bright sun is such a terrible sight. It nearly burned me as soon as my consciousness awakened.” As you replied casually, Bruce took notice of how the curtains are closed completely shut to block the sunlight from entering, as if getting even a little bit of it would burn you like a vampire. Well, you did look like a vampire because of how pale and ghostly your skin is as well as the all black, gothic medieval or victorian outfit.
Bruce still wasn’t used to your unique culture, ancient speech and intimidating presence, but had learned not to be too bothered by it ever since you and Jason began visiting the Manor often. He didn’t want to waste energy by constantly reacting to any unusual traits you displayed, and he’s been successful so far. Even though he still doesn’t agree with your morals, he knew not to argue with you like before, since you’ve been nothing but respectful to him everytime you set foot in the manor.
Raising one of his eyebrows, Bruce tilts his head. “Do you always read?”
“Yes, indeed.” Came your immediate response. “Books are what defines me, Mr. Wayne. My soul is practically attached to it.”
“Is that why you always carry a book with you?” Stephanie suddenly chimes in out of nowhere with Tim behind her, curiosity plastered across her face. You nodded, glancing up to see Damian sit down on the other sofa while playing a brutal game that occasionally makes a blood splattering sound.
Bruce sighs, “And why are you all awake so early?”
Tim looks at him weirdly, “It’s already eleven o’clock. Almost lunch time, you know.” Deadpanning, he then leans in from behind to get a glimpse of what you were reading, only to cringe slightly after his eyes read a particular sentence; The flesh muscles of his legs were torn off, almost as if it had been ripped open by a lion, exposing bones with blood uncontrollably flooding out. It’s definitely one of those horror books who has unnecessary amount of gore. “What in the hell are you reading?”
“Bloodthirst by Clementine.” You sipped on a black coffee before continuing, “Wherein the main character becomes bloodthirsty for revenge after his lover had been abducted and mutilated by a group of serial killers. The sentence you’ve read is one of his acts of revenge which includes a pack of wolves.” The corner of your mouth twitched up a bit, looking up at him with that glint in your eyes. “It has a pleasantly satisfying plotline.”
Disturbed and quite freaked out, Tim exchanges eye contact with Bruce and pressed his lips together. “That is... uhm, interesting.” Amusement merely crosses your face before it instantly went back to your usual emotionless expression.
They still haven’t gotten used to the extremely calm demeanor you had because of how most of them grew up not having a quiet presence in the manor, even Cassandra wasn’t as silent as you before. You’re the only calm and fully collected person they’ve ever met, coming off as rather intimidating due to your piercing gaze, emotionless face, wiser-than-thou mind, and utmost patience. Especially the patience one, because most of them were either short-tempered or just born enraged. Sometimes, they get intimidated without you even speaking — once, you and Jason reluctantly joined them to a grand event and someone made an utterly horrible decision to insult Jason by comparing him to the “well-behaved” eldest son Dick, which resulted in you shooting them a piercing, dark, cold and harsh glare not even a second after that instantly made them freeze in spot. That look in your eyes alone made their blood run cold and face pale.
Needless to say, they regretted insulting Jason as quick as the wind blows, but that story’s for another time.
“Where’s Dick? Did he sleep at Barbara’s?” Stephanie wondered, realizing the lack of annoying presence.
“Nope!” An all too cheerful voice in the morning pipes up as Dick appeared with a big smile on his face. He quickly noticed you reading a book and approached, “Reading a dark book again? Where’s Jay?”
“There’s only an obvious answer to an already obvious question, Richard.” Retorting without sparing him a glance, you flipped the page and earned a snicker from Damian. “He will be walking down the stairs soon. Sois patient, frère.”
Dick replies an ‘okay’ before jumping on the couch Damian was sitting on, deciding to annoy his youngest brother instead. Shaking your head with the corner of your mouth twitching up only barely, you focused on reading your book again despite the peaceful silence being broken by their chattering, although it didn’t take long before you averted your gaze and stared at the ceiling, as if feeling something wrong.
Damian notices. “What are you doing?”
You didn’t speak right away. Just staring up like something was there, which also made the others look up in attempt to figure out what you were doing.
“Jason is not sleeping well,” You finally stated, not looking away from the ceiling. “Humans often radiate different energy depending on their mental state, which makes it easier to specifically identify what their current emotions or moods are. It can be felt if you concentrate enough. Jason’s energy has been much peaceful ever since I’ve tormented Joker. It is supposed to stay as that.”
“What do you feel now?” Cassandra asked worriedly, her body leaned back against the wall.
“He’s distressed.” You concluded, shutting the book close without bothering to slip a bookmark on the page, which she noticed quickly. She reads with you a lot and had never seen you close a book without bookmarking it; books are absolute treasures for you, but not as much as Jason now.
Confusion took over Tim’s face as you set your book down and drink your black coffee in one go, “How do you know?”
“There is not one thing I don’t know about Jason.” You remarked nonchalantly, like it’s how it should be. You just knew Jason well enough to understand him more than anyone else, even more than himself sometimes.
Before you could stand up from the couch, a footstep erupts from the top of the stairs and comes Jason slowly walking down, wrapped around in a blanket and thick arms hugging his body, making himself as small as possible despite his large frame. “(Y-Y/n)...?” His voice was thick and hoarse, as if he had been crying, as he stuttered and looked for you like a lost child.
You quickly got up from the couch and walked up to him when he stopped in the middle of the stairs. “Come here, darling.” Jason doesn’t hesitate to drop the blanket and wrap his arms around your neck, clinging onto you for dear life. Slipping your hands on the back of his thighs, you lifted him up with ease and returned to the couch, sitting down sideways so Jason could lay on top of you, just how he liked.
“Horrible...” Jason murmured, face buried in your chest. “Horrible, all of ‘em. It hurts. Everything hurts.”
You frown, although your face had the softest look anyone had ever seen as you gently stroke his back, still having him caged in your arms. “Terrifying dream, was it?” You asked, earning a nod.
“ ‘m scared...” Jason breathes shakily, “I’m still there... Still hurts. Too dark. Cold. He’s still laughing. Hurts, it hurts.” He blabbered, words repeating over and over again, and breath increasingly becoming rapid as panic begins to slowly build up inside him. His entire body was trembling, sobs wreck through his body.
Everyone except you was at lost for words.
Jason seemed... weak and fragile. A cracked glass that can easily break with just one touch. Had Jason been suffering like this all this time? It felt as if Bruce was bludgeoned by a brick in the form of realization, opening his eyes to how the events with Joker truly affected Jason. He was obviously and clearly traumatized (who the fuck wouldn’t be?), but this is the first time everyone had actually witnessed the trauma, considering Jason refused to be vulnerable in front of them.
“Shh... Open your eyes, chéri. Look into mine and breathe slowly,” You gently instructed, rubbing his back in a soothing manner and muttering encouragements. Jason does as he’s told and open his eyes, staring into your calm and comforting (e/c) eyes while attempting to slow down his breathing. “Doing so excellent, mon amour. Breathe in and out, slowly. Good boy. You do not have to rush yourself.” The soft tone of your voice bringing him a sense of safety.
Once he’s calmed down, you slowly hold his hand and squeeze to provide warmth, hugging him tighter with one arm. “Can you tell me where you are and who you’re with right now?”
Jason squeezed back, little tears still running down his cheeks. “T-the Wayne Manor... With—with you... A-and Bruce, and Dick... Tim... Damian... C-Cass and Steph...” His gaze focusing on your encouraging eyes, his mind slowly detached from the nightmare it was drowning itself in.
“Good boy, sweetheart.” You kissed his forehead, “Is it still dark?” Jason shakes his head. “What about coldness? Am I succeeding in warming you up?” He nods this time. You smile, running your hand through his hair. “Be not afraid, Jason. Darkness will not consume your mind forever, although it is a part of our lives. You might remain afraid of the excessive trauma for years, but being afraid of it does not mean you will be chained eternally, and neither does it mean you are weak nor easily destructible. You’ve bravely fought a war within yourself. I know you will be able to defeat the nightmare someday.”
Jason sniffles, “Do you think I’m healing?”
“Yes, very slowly, as how healing process should be.” You stroked his cheek, “Trauma comes with nightmares. It especially shows when you are doing well so it could test your strength, whether you’ll be able to overcome. But it can never defeat you; it only knows to cause pain, agony, and fear. You know love, joy, compassion, and empathy. It is what make us humans that defeats the monsters.”
He curled up against you, “Just want it to be over. I feel less like myself.”
“You are not bounded to your trauma for all eternal, chéri. It does not define who and what you are, and it certainly does not make you any less.” You softly replied. “Never doubt yourself, my love. Healing cannot be completed within a day, it takes more than few years and I will be with you every step of the way.”
Biting his lip, Jason rests his chin on your chest. “You’ll get fucking tired dealing with me. Your patience might not be able to handle it.”
“I cannot get tired of you. Not when you hate pastels too.” Jason chuckles at your joke, the mood surely lightening. “And do not speak as if you don’t know me, Jason. There is no such thing as might not be able to handle it in my vocabulary when it is you. I love you too much. If I cannot handle anything that involves you and matters about you, then my love for you will mean nothing but dishonorable. The two of us definitely have knowledge of how I would rather decapitate myself than offer you a half-hearted love.”
Jason’s heart swell as the back of his eyes sting again, tears threatening to come out. He knew how difficult it is to be with someone as much trauma as he has, which made him live in fear of you getting tired and leaving one day, even though you’ve assured him more than a hundred times. He knew he was difficult to be with even without the trauma, yet you willingly giftwrap your heart to offer to him while simultaneously providing him with the understanding he deserved. You accepted him along with his trauma. Nobody knows how special that feels.
Cassandra and Stephanie sat on the carpet near the couch where you two laid, so they could check up on Jason. The others had scooted closer as they watch you comfort him nearly expertly.
“Can still feel it, (Y/n).” Jason snuggles on your chest, “The crowbar. It’s still hitting me.”
You gently pull his hand to see his arm that was littered in autopsy scars, some little and some a bit big. Caressing them, you press a lingering kiss. “It was just a fragrance of your memory, beloved. You are safe now, I will keep you protected for as long as I am here. No crowbars.”
Jason nods and looks up at you, puckering his lips. You immediately kiss him, then pressed a kiss on his forehead. “I know he can’t touch me anymore. You already tortured him enough.” He smiled and wiped off his tears.
You pat his head and hug him closer, “Everything will be alright someday. Would you like a hot chocolate with marshmallows on top? I’ll cook you breakfast as well.”
“Yeah, that would be nice.” Jason whispers.
You slowly slip out from under him, making sure he’s laying down comfortably before fetching the blanket he dropped and wrapping it around him, muttering an i’ll be right back. Watching you disappear into the kitchen, Jason sighs in content and curls up on the couch, still feeling vulnerable but not worse. Stephanie smiles softly at him as Dick walks over to sit beside her, ruffling Jason’s hair.
“You’ll be fine soon, little bird.”
Jason only nodded. The first time he didn’t scoff nor bark, indicating he still can’t forget the nightmare he had.
Soon, his other brothers joined Dick while Bruce sits on the couch beside Jason, looking regretful and apologetic with a frown. Witnessing the amount of trauma Jason has to endure even after many years dropped an equal amount of realization within the family, even though they knew he was traumatized. They just didn’t know the extent to it, and seeing it unfold before them had made them realize they hadn’t been supportive or doing enough for Jason when they should’ve known how much trauma torture and murder would cause. He literally died and came back to life — it’s impossible to not carry a lifelong trauma that greatly affects his personality and attitude; the utmost rage and murderous desires he displayed before might have just been his coping mechanism until meeting you, who quickly became his comfort and calmness.
Nearly most of them had guilt written in their faces due to feeling as if they had been invalidating Jason’s trauma, especially Bruce who did not deal with the entire thing well and had failed to show Jason he cared even though he did more than the son could ever know.
Once again, you beat him to it.
“He cares about you so much, doesn’t he?” Bruce quietly and rhetorically questioned.
Jason nodded happily, “A little too much sometimes. (Y/n)’s always careful and calm, but he gets reckless when it’s about me. Like that Joker thing.” He chuckles, “He said fucker didn’t even have time to laugh.”
The corner of Bruce’s mouth twitched up only to disappear, the guilty look still staying. He breathes in and out slowly, causing Jason to look at him questioningly as Bruce avoided eye contact. “Jason, I... uh — I’m sorry. I’m sorry If you ever felt invalidated or unloved by me. I had been so focused on my morality that I failed to show you I cared for you. I really do, Jason. Just maybe not the way you were expecting me to show it.” He carefully says as to not trigger anything in his son.
Pulsing his lip, Jason shakes his head and reached out to play with Bruce’s hand. Bruce seem surprised, but let him nonetheless. “Mhm,” He hums, “It’s okay. I was just angry and hurt... You didn’t look for me enough, and there’s suddenly a new Robin, so... I thought you forgot about me. I couldn’t accept that you seemed to move on so easily.”
Bruce’s heart clenches. “That’s not true, son.”
“I can see that now. I was too bitter and angry, it made me blind.” The broken boy smiles a bit in an attempt to reassure him. “It’s not your fault I turned out like this and ruin everything, you know.” He sadly says, looking down.
The older Wayne shakes his head, “You don’t ruin everything, Jason. You were coping and still coping with what you went through. (Y/n) was right when he said healing takes time.”
Letting go of his hand, Jason instead fidgeted his own fingers now with a sad pout. A little child-like. “But you gave up on me. I know I’m difficult. It’s why you normally can’t deal with me and we always end up arguing. And I was a failure ‘cause I died easily as a Robin.” His voice was slightly high-pitched and trembling. It reminded Bruce again of a child.
Immediately shaking his head, he grasped Jason’s fidgeting hand and firmly looks at him. “You were never a failure, Jason. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. You did everything you could. What I can’t forgive is that I let you die as Robin and not as Jason Todd. I can’t forgive myself for being too late to save you. It wasn’t your fault. Nothing’s your fault, son.”
He pulls him into a hug, which caused Jason to breakdown as he clings onto Bruce and cries his heart out. Embracing him tightly, Bruce kept stroking his back for comfort. The others watched silently with a sad smile, knowing both of them wanted to reconcile for a long time but was too hesitant to do so. It made them happy yet emotional at the same time, Dick and Stephanie already having tearful eyes.
“It truly feels upsetting to ruin this wonderful moment, but I’ve got to feed Jason. May I?” Your calm voice erupted, just then everyone noticing your presence standing at the side of the couch. Bruce chuckles and pulled away, sitting down on the carpet instead so you could take his place. You nodded appreciatively before taking a seat.
Jason sits up, accepting the hot chocolate from you with both hands and sipping it. You ruffle his hair gently.
“His age mentality regresses when the nightmare’s been too severe,” You explained what Bruce was wondering. “It is one of his responses to trauma. I believe it’s the inner child coming out, attempting to relive again.”
“How long?” Dick asked.
“About an hour.” You take the mug from Jason and set it on the table as you begin to cut a bite sized piece from the pancakes to feed your lover. “He has the desire of being taken cared of and I intend to fulfill it. Mother and father takes care of him once in a while when it happens in our Addams home.”
“Mom and dad takes me shopping. It’s fun.” Jason remarked, grinning.
“Shall we buy you some dead flowers, chéri? And a new gun, perhaps. Would you like that?” You caressed his cheek while feeding him with the other, Jason leaning his face on your palm.
“Yeah, I’d love that. Love you, (Y/n).”
“I adore you too, my love.” You kissed the tip of his nose, which caused him to erupt into a fit of giggles as you feed him again.
After Jason had fallen asleep peacefully on the couch, you pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh deeply in attempt to calm yourself down. Seeing Jason struggle with trauma is not easy, especially when he’s far too scarred mentally that it causes mental age regression. It also probably came from the fact he had never lived a peaceful life even before meeting Bruce, losing his childhood by witnessing the harsh reality at such a young age, and having to stop being a child after becoming Robin.
You had utmost patience, but when something affects Jason greatly like this, you often tend to lose calmness and be overwhelmed with rage and bloodthirst. If you could take all his pain away and those painful memories, you’ve already done it. You would give up anything for Jason to not struggle with the torment of his torture and murder — you will give up everything for him.
“You okay, (Y/n)?” Tim asked worriedly, feeling your atmosphere change.
“I wouldn’t call blood boiling with rage okay.” You muttered murderously as your dark eyes glared daggers at the carpeted floor. “Joker is already encaged and chained down within the cells of Arkham Asylum, but the aftermath of his vile actions still haunts and torments the victims who have gone through survival. Trauma is inescapable, including fear of the perpetrator. Their spirits won’t rest peacefully, alive or dead, while his existence still roam the Earth.”
The way you spat with utmost disgust and anger was now understandable, as well as your nearly inexcusable actions committed before. You witness this side of Jason more often than they do. It’s already unbearable even for them, what more for you who takes precious care of him?
Suddenly, Bruce comes to understand your morals. Why you do what you do, why you believe what you believe.
“May I ask you to take care of him while I’m out, Mr. Wayne?” You asked, voice thick, clearly grounding yourself to your humanity.
Bruce nods, for the first time. “Yes, now go do what you want to do.”
You smiled, immediately standing up and wearing your coat before rushing off the manor.
Cassandra shakes her head with a smile as Damian looked at his father with a smirk, “He might kill him, you know.”
Bruce just shrugged.
“Well,” Stephanie sighs, “Can’t stop (Y/n) from going on a rampage against the Joker. He deserves what’s coming for him anyway.”
Few hours later, Jason wakes up to the news of Arkham Asylum increasing its security due to an unknown attack against Joker that left him barely alive, and you casually reading a book with pleased and prideful look. It doesn’t take him long to figure things out and tackle you in a hug, leaving kisses all over your face.
Joker’s probably going to have nightmares about you, but he deserves what’s coming for him, doesn’t he?
© ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʜᴀᴅᴇsʀɪsᴇ. sᴛᴇᴀʟɪɴɢ, ᴘʟᴀɢɪᴀʀɪᴢɪɴɢ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋs ғᴏʀ ᴍᴏɴᴇᴛᴀʀʏ ɢᴀɪɴ ɪs sᴛʀɪᴄᴛʟʏ ᴘʀᴏʜɪʙɪᴛᴇᴅ. ᴀsᴋ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛɪɴɢ ᴏʀ ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ.
#hadesrise#gay#male reader#x male reader#imagines#fluff#dc x male reader#dceu#jason todd x reader#jason todd fluff#jason todd#jason todd x male reader#dc jason todd#lgbtq#jason todd imagine#jason x reader#jason x male reader#dc#dc comics#dc x reader#dc jason#mlm#male x male#red hood x reader#red hood x male reader#red hood fluff#dc red hood#red hood fanfic#red hood#the addams family
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Farmer Clark
something just snapped at me when I saw this picture. I mean look at this picture
Pairing: Clark Kent x reader
Genre: SMUT, 18+, sir kink, breeding kink, female receiving
Notes: I saw this picture on Pinterest and yeah, I got carried away. Ah, to be on a farm with Clark.
The sun was blazing on the hot Metropolis day. Clark's farm was standing proudly on the hills surrounded by nature. Green hills were holding the fruits of the labor of Clark's blood, sweat, and tears, making produce for him and you for the following year. Y/n walked out of the barn, watching Clark throw a ball of hay over his shoulder as if weighing 2 grams. Maybe for him, it did. His muscle shined from the sweat that glistened on his slightly tanned skin. His pecs tensed every time he pulled, hauled, and threw something, anything, around the farm.
The man was a god walking among mortals, and you felt your mind fill with lewd images of him. His hand held the wrench as he knelt down in front of his tractor, trying to fix minor damage, a damage he told you about, but you could not concentrate on that as you saw his biceps move with each swing, tug, and pull. Observing him kneel like that gave you more ideas and wants. Wishing you were the one sitting there and him kneeling in front of you, eating you out until you see the stars, and he was so good at that.
"-pass me the...Y/n...Y/n?" Clark brought you out of your daze, noticing your head snap and your eyes trying to find him, finding him on the floor, lying on his back, looking confused, his hand reaching for yours. Giving him your hand, he chuckles.
"As much as I love to hold your hand, your hand can't unscrew a 5-inch bolt. Pass me the tool there."
With a slight blush on your cheeks, you pull away, taking your hand away from his grasp and handing him the appropriate tool, crouching down and sitting on the hay-filled ground, watching him do the work. Work you knew nothing about, you loved being around the farm, and living that quiet farm life, enjoying it with Clark. Relishing in every moment with him in this life, every early morning even though you hated to get up sometimes, every day off when you ran across the field while Clark chased you, every kiss that was stolen away from you while you were trying to make an apple pie, every time riding the tractor while he drove enjoying the bumpy ride.
"-in your world..."
"Huh?"
Snapping back, you see Clark in front of your face. "I said, 'You really are in your own world, darling?' That is what I said."
Laughing awkwardly, you look at him, seeing the smile on his face, his eyes fixed on you, and his big strong hands caressing your tights. Clark saw the glint in your eyes, he felt your heartbeat quicken when his hand inched a bit higher towards your waist, caressing unhurriedly as if trying to make you say it. To say what you want. What you want him to do to you.
"You know that I can feel you, sweetness. Every breath that stops in your throat, every whimper that you muffle, each gaze you throw at me. Therefore, you can tell me, darling. What do you want?"
Clark was playing the long game as much as you did. But on a much higher level. And he looked so delectable like that. Muscles on display, just wearing the overalls, he was playing every single character in your favorite romance books. And you wanted nothing more than to skip to the best part, but you needed to speak, as thinking too long might not help. He is a hero, but reading minds was not his forte.
"I want you, Kal-El. I want you to have your way with me."
Leaning into him, you kiss him, wrapping your hands around his neck, scratching the baseline of his hair, nipping and tugging. Clark felt himself shift into more of his primal urges, and the kiss was the fuse that started it. His nose filled with your arousal as his hands began to remove bits of your clothing; unlike Clark, you had more clothes on yourself. Sitting in his lap, you felt his length harden, your hips sway back and forth, and you continued to make out. The motion takes a new direction as Clark picks you up in his arms, laying you gently on the ground, the hay starting to make your skin itch. Pulling away, Clark breath out
"Put this behind your back." He offers his jacket, and you happily take it, placing it on your back.
Laying comfortably on it, Clark stops to take you in, your heart, your body, your whimpers, and at that moment, he wants to devour you.
"Darling, will you let me eat you out?"
You can simply whimper as your legs want any friction as they rub together. Removing your pants and underwear, Clark's face is in front of his other favorite pair of lips(as he said), and for once, you didn't mind the view. Clark was face down, ass up, and after his perfect face was his perfect ass sticking in the air. His blue eyes looked into yours, and you felt his tongue lick you, so slowly and sensually, like a feather touching your skin.
"More, Clark! This isn't enough." You say as you cup your breasts, fondling them, trying to add more sensation.
"I just started, pet. Believe me, I will have my way with you. I will corput you." Clark stated as he started his work. Licking up your folds, tracing each curve, fold and dip you had to offer. All of his tongue work leading to your clit, sucking with a harsh motion making you yelp and arch your back. Clark knew what he was doing to you, but you had no idea what you were doing to him. Sure, he was in pain as his cock was painfully hard and his balls heavy, needing to be emptied inside you, to breed you but for now, seeing you like this and that just being the start gave him some satisfaction. His fingers found your backside as they toyed with the rim making small circles on the entrance.
That feeling to you was different, your first time of him doing that and still being so gentle. The sensation started to bubble in you feeling a climax nearing extremely close.
"Clark, I am close. Stop."
At the word, Clark stops and looks concerned "Are you okay? Was I too rough? I know we didn't talk about anal-" You laugh at his words as you bring him up to you, kissing him passionately, telling him in the kiss that everything is perfect.
"What I mean by 'Stop.' was that I do not want to cum like this, but I want to cum together."
Clark looks at you and chuckles himself.
"You had me worried there, missy. But what you ask, you shall receive since you have been such a good girl."
"Yes."
Clark towers over you, his muscles shining from the overhead lighting and casting an intimidating shadow on your body.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, sir." You reply.
Your body tenses as you feel his cock tapping your clit, teasing you. His hips push forwards with a slow, agonizing pace, your walls making way for his massive length as he nestles deep inside you, finding the warmth and spark he wanted. Placing your hands on his shoulder, you let yourself relax and enjoy the moment. His hips moved back slow as ever, making you whine at the loss of his fullness. Clark chuckles darkly
"I knew you wanted me to fuck you. But today, I am not doing that." he says while looking deep into your soul "I am going to breed you." he proclaimed, slamming his hips into you, the sensation dilating itself to a maximum in a second. Taking a fast pace, you saw his eyes closed, focused on what he is feeling and giving you as his ears are filled with your moans and pornographic sounds filling the empty barn.
"I will make sure you are full of my cum. No matter how many times you will carry my child." he voiced, his hands keeping yours in a gentle touch while his hips proclaimed you.
Hearing his statement, you felt a fire stir in you. You and Clark talked about having kids and occasionally having baby fever but nothing so sure came from his mouth as of seconds ago.
"Yes! I want your babies, Clark!" you screamed out, giving him an inkling that you, too, wanted this life.
His hips continued to snap into yours as his fingers found your clit rubbing it, pressing just hard enough for you to be closer to your climax.
"Then if we want a baby...we need to cum together. What do you say, missy? Are you close? I can feel you squeeze me tighter and tighter."
At a loss for words, you shake your head up and down, shutting your eyes and feeling the inevitably snap in you as you came. Clark's pace slowed as he rutted into you, letting himself fall beside you, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you inhumanly close.
"You really make me crazy. You know that, darling?" Clark said, kissing your neck, leaving a few hickeys in its wake. You watched him carefully pull out as he grabbed his overalls to clean you up. You pull away from him, saying "Those overalls are the reason we are in this position. Don't you dare ruin them."
Clark looks at them, confused "They are just overalls."
Standing up slowly, still feeling full, you say, "Those are the sexiest overalls I have ever seen."
With a naughty gleam, Clark throws the overalls over his shoulder " Then I will have to find another way to clean you up."
I have a audio file on farmer Clark in the making if you want to hear a snippet of it CLICK HERE.
#clark kent smut#clark kent x reader#clark kent#clark kent imagine#superman imagine#superman x reader#superman#henry cavill#henry cavil x y/n#justice leauge x reader#justice leauge imagine#justice league smut#justice league#dc imagine#dceu#dc#superman x you#clark kent fluff#clark kent x you#clark kent x y/n#imagine#imagine smut#batman#jason todd x reader
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Harley finishes handcuffing herself to Y/N...
Y/N: when you said you wanted rings, I thought you meant something else
Harley: I couldn't afford one.
Y/N: i have a job, baby. Check my pocket
Harley fishes through Y/N's pocket and finds a small velvet box...
Harley: ohmygosh! Yes! Yes! A thousand times yes!!!
Y/N: you've made me the happiest...now please get me out of these handcuffs.
Harley: not with I want to do next (winks)
#dc comics#dc comics incorrect quotes#dc harley quinn#harley quinn#harley quinn x reader#harley quinn imagine#dceu#dceu imagine#margot robbie#harleen quinzel#harley quinzel#dc comics imagine#dc comics fluff
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Come get the phone
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
This popped in my head when I was looking through this list, and I couldn't help but think of a scenario with Dick Grayson (of course, he lives in my head rent free). Checked this like three times for typos, but I was tired so who knows what surprises wait ahead! Ah, I need sleep... Slightly NSFW, so proceed with caution, please! Also poorly written. Yes, that's a warning. So is Dick Grayson, because LOOK AT HIM!
“What are you craving right now?” Dick asks while looking through his phone for take out, not noticing that you scooted closer to him on the couch. “You,” you purr slightly, moving your face close to the side of his, and kissing his cheek. “Oh?” He hums, raising one of his pretty eyebrows as he smirks. “Mm-hmm.” you grin, raising a hand to cup his face to turn it towards yours. “But you know what I also want?” You look down at his soft lips, inching close to them. “What?” Dick's cheeks tint pink as you get closer to his mouth, his breathing speeding up, and heart starting to race. “Chinese food,” you whisper, quickly pecking his lips, then snatching his phone now that he was distracted, and jumping off the couch. “Hey! That's not fair!” He exclaims, his eyes wide and arms thrown out to the side. “Sorry, love, but I know you would've said no if I told you I wanted Chinese again!” You laugh, holding his phone close in case he tries to come after you to retrieve it back. “Well, yeah.” He grabs a pillow from the couch, trying to discretely cover his lap, yet failing and rolling his eyes when he sees you wink. “It's the third time you wanted Chinese food,” he says, chucking another pillow in your direction, smirking when it hits you square in the face. “Ok, firstly: ouch.” You rub your nose, pouting as you throw the pillow back at him, but missing horribly. “And secondly: I can't help that I love Chinese food so much!” You walk back over to the couch, keeping a tight grip on Dick's phone, and sitting next to him. “You love Chinese food more than you love me?” His arm wraps around your shoulders, and he pulls you into his side, kissing your temple softly. “Mmm.” You tilt your head, pretending to think for a moment, a breathless laugh slipping past your lips when he lightly tugs your hair in mock offence. “No, I love you more than Chinese food. I'd give up Chinese food for you.” Dick's teasing smile turns into a soft one when you finish your sentence. “Damn, you really do love me,” he murmurs, leaning his head in to kiss your lips gently. He pulls away after a moment, his beautiful eyes gazing into yours. “I love you, too.” He pecks your forehead, and your heart flutters, eyes soft as you smile at him. “But we're not getting Chinese again.” His hand grabs his phone, shoving it into the front of his pants before you could react. Your smile drops, a deadpanned expression now taking its place. “I am not afraid to reach in there, you know...” You raise your eyebrows, pointing to his jeans, and staring at him for a few seconds, your gaze glancing from his eyes to his pants. “I know.” He grin mischievously, a wicked glint on his face. “If you really want Chinese food then come get the phone.” Dick spreads his legs, the pillow that was resting on his lap earlier falling to the floor. He throws his arms over the back of the couch, a permanent grin etched on his pretty face as he watches you walk towards him with determination.
Please, do not steal my work
#dick grayson x reader#dick grayson x y/n#dick grayson x you#dick grayson#nightwing x reader#nightwing x y/n#nightwing x you#nightwing#richard dick grayson#richard grayson#dc imagine#dc#dceu#dc comics
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Gotham Tales II
part i | masterlist
Backdrop: You and Bruce have been friends since childhood. You are both heirs to your families' legacies. As years passed, things between you and Bruce changed and became strained. Takes place a year before the events in the film but takes elements that were established from before the film.
Pairing: Bruce Wayne/Batman (R. Pattinson) x fem!reader
Warnings: none that i can recall. some grammar errors, probably.
A's Notes: here is a direct sequel to the first part of Gotham Tales! thank you for the support! i apologize for this taking so long to post. i also apologize if this doesn't meet your expectations. please like and reblog as well as give me some feedback or whatever comment you want. this was heavily inspired by two songs; 'haunted' by maty noyes and ‘for us’ by osman.
Word count: 2.6k
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“The Prince of Gotham finally comes out of hiding,” Carmine sings as his hand on your waist tightened, an indication that he was enjoying this. You and Bruce Wayne, Gotham’s royalty ripe for manipulation. “I’m assuming it took some convincing from Princess over here, hm?” he continued without missing a beat.
“Carmine, Bruce and I were just catching up.” you eyed Carmine with what looked like a refined anger; it was evident that you were unhappy and usually you were careful of not letting your emotions get the best of you.
You didn’t like what would come of their interaction. It scared you that Falcone would use Bruce in a way that would hurt him. You couldn’t care less about what Falcone did with you but when it came to Bruce, you wanted to keep him as far away as possible from your world that involved Falcone. Not only did you not want Bruce to know of the relationship you had with Falcone, you simply didn’t want your friend to look at you differently. Bruce assumed the worst in people since he lost his parents. It wouldn’t surprise you if he did the same with you if he were to ever find out about the world you struggled to keep at bay.
The look you gave to Falcone was the first time in a year that Bruce saw anger within you. He had seen you angry before, especially at him, but this was different. You were protective but also scared. You were hiding something and it was his intention to find out what it was.
“Beautiful, mind joining me for a dance?” Carmine asked, his hand on your body already guiding you away from the man you were protecting and quite frankly, he liked seeing you be protective. It was cute. Bruce looked on as he took another sip of his drink, prepared to follow your every move like a hawk.
“That was real cute, protecting the little prince from me.” he started as he held your frame close to his. One hand on the small of your back while the other delicately held your hand. It took all the restraint you had to not slap him in front of all your guests. Most probably were waiting to see you explode while some just wanted to see Falcone be humiliated by you. Guess you’d be disappointing everyone tonight.
“Carmine, leave him out of this,” you softly pleaded. “please.” Being soft was a safer route than being crass with him. You were stroking his ego; begging him to spare your friend. “He knows nothing and I’d like to keep it that way. He’ll never hear a word from me about what we have going on.” you continued, pressing your body closer to his as you danced. Letting him feel you against him. Your phrasing intentional, of course. If you played into whatever image he had of the two of you, he would back down. Playing that doe-eyed damsel is what usually got him to do what you wanted. He scoffed with a smirk. He knew what you were doing and on the contrary, he loved it.
“Look at you, thinking I’ll do whatever you say,” he chuckled as his hand on your back ever so slightly slid further down, just taunting to hold you where it would be humiliating to you; metaphorically and physically. “As ravishing as you are in that dress—and you are quite the beauty every time I see you, doll— you can’t tell me what to do. If I want to mess with your little prince, I will. If I have to remind you who’s in charge between the two of us, I will.” his hand squeezed yours; not gently like he usually did. It was harsh and even if no one was paying attention, he made it crystal clear. The image of the two of you being the definition of how this man held the power over you. He owned you and if he had to be a little rough with you to make it easy for you to understand that, then so be it. It was humiliation at its finest and while you were the object of his affections, it was a reminder that you were not in control. He was the one who called the shots and you were to follow even if it seemed like he let you do what you wanted. In the end, your money was mixed with his. It was tainted and everything you did would be tainted if you barked back at Falcone.
Bruce could see the discomfort and fear that shone in your eyes. The extravagant chandelier hanging above highlighting it for him (and everyone else who was looking at you both) to see. He could see the tears starting to form in your eyes. Whatever you were going to tell him before, he knew had to do with Falcone. Your facade of comfort fading and fear setting in.
“Mr. Falcone,” a gruff voice interrupted the humiliation, “We have to leave.” It was the Penguin, Oswald Cobblepot. You didn’t have many encounters with him, only a few from your visits to the Iceberg Lounge when Falcone requested your presence. Oz never spoke to you coldly, always with respect. You didn’t know if that was because of his genuine fondness of you or if Falcone told him to never speak to you rudely. You’d never know the truth but his interruption made him your lifesaver. The look of fear and pain in your eyes enough for him to feel an inkling of pity for you, Gotham’s Princess.
Carmine nodded at Oz, whispering to him to wait outside. He walked you back towards Bruce, his arm back around your waist as you intertwined your arm in his, giving you time to compose yourself.
“Beautiful, sorry that I have to leave so soon. I’ll see you around.” You swallowed your fear as the two of you were in front of Bruce. He brought your hand to his lips, a soft peck grazing your knuckles as he smiled and turned to Bruce, “Mr. Wayne, mind keeping her company for me for the rest of the night?” Bruce nodded, a cue for him to leave. “Have a good night, sweetheart.”
You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Your hand found Bruce’s and the nausea you felt subsided. What was supposed to be a peaceful night turned into one of the worst.
“Are you alright?” Bruce broke the silence once he noticed you were calm again.
“Miss Y/L/N, Mr. Wayne, can I get a picture?” John, the paparazzo from the other day chimed in before you could respond. You put forth your best smile and adjusted your body against Bruce’s; your front angled against his torso as his hand found its place along your waist. For the first time that night, you enjoyed having a man’s hand on you. Bruce mustered whatever smile he could. It wasn’t as radiant as yours but still made him look handsome.
“Wow, first time you guys have been photographed in God knows how long.” John sighed with content as he looked at the picture that would surely make headlines tomorrow. To him, it looked natural. It had been years since the two of you were photographed. The last time the two of you were photographed was when Thomas Wayne was running for mayor. He and Martha were seated on their patio next to your parents, both couples content with the scene before them; Bruce and you running around the spacious backyard. You were playing a princess and Bruce was the brave knight who had just slayed the dragon holding you captive. The headline for that picture was related to Thomas and his campaign but the main focus were the two of you. You two were thought of as the future of Gotham. The children that would carry the legacy of both your families. You and Bruce were thought to be destined for each other. Destined to carry the Wayne and Y/L/N legacies. Together. There were plenty of other pictures of the two of you afterwards but after Thomas and Martha’s murders. This photograph made it look as if you were carved for each other’s bodies; you, the radiant beauty of the city and Bruce, the reserved but handsome Prince of Gotham. John thanked you both and made his way to the bar.
Bruce’s hand remained on your waist as your head rested on his shoulder, breathing in his scent as a way to ground yourself. He didn’t say anything, his thumb rubbing against the soft fabric of your dress in a soothing motion. You didn’t want the moment to end. You wanted to stay where you were. Reality was that you couldn’t escape the dread that was in the pit of your stomach. That feeling was going to stay there for as long as you were to be in the situation.
“Bruce,” you whispered, not moving your head, “take me home, please.”
Without pause, Bruce found your hand and led you out of your own gala. You were sure the press was going to widely speculate about the nature of your departure with him. Maybe, for once, you’d enjoy reading about it.
Bruce took you home and without much thought, you invited him inside. Your manor was grand and you managed to maintain the estate with the exception of stacks of paperwork littering the main dining table. You were like your father, an organized mess when it came to paperwork. It made Bruce smile because despite being seemingly perfect, you had a flaw.
“Sorry it’s a bit of a mess at the moment, haven’t had the time to clean up for company.” You sheepishly apologized as you shed your coat from your shoulders. You hadn’t realized Bruce was behind you until you turned around and bumped your chest with his with a slight ‘oof’. His demeanor had returned to its usual neutral but rigid state. He never knew when to let something go. So stubborn you thought. You knew what he was thinking with the look he had on his face.
“It’s nothing to worry about, Bruce,” you sighed as you looked at him with sincerity despite the words leaving your lips being utter lies. Your fear for him was sincere. You walked past him to the small bar where all your liquor was displayed, pouring yourself a glass of rum.
Bruce didn’t ease in his suspicion of you hiding the truth from him. It wasn’t something that you often did or maybe he just didn’t notice. After all, you had this hold on him that he couldn’t quite explain. There was something that lingered in your eyes after Falcone left and while you insisted it was nothing, your eyes betrayed your lie. You didn’t want him to know the line you were constantly trying to avoid crossing.
“Remember how we used to play hide and seek when our fathers were holding some sort of meeting?” you attempted changing the subject with a sip of your glass, your back still to him. God, you’d be dehydrated tomorrow morning. A small smile spread across your lips at the vast memories of the two men conversing at the table. It was always business when the two spoke and you were running around in the background with Bruce. You missed the warmth of your childhood. The only warmth you were getting in return was from the alcohol numbing your fear.
“Why do you keep deflecting?” he finally spoke as he eyed the back of your dress. As much as he wanted to know the truth, some thoughts that littered his brain tonight were simply about you and that dress. More specifically, you without that dress. Each passing moment that you spent in his presence, the thoughts that he’d suppressed were crawling their way to the forefront. Edging him to throw whatever was his mission with you out the window and indulge himself with you if you wanted to do the same. His physical want for you and his stubbornness to figure out what you were hiding from him were causing a raging battle within himself.
He knew you were avoiding his gaze. You were close to spilling whatever it was that was haunting your subconscious. He knew that you wanted to tell him but just couldn’t bring yourself to do so due to the fear instilled within you. Bruce knew that it had to be serious if you were in such a state. He knew you were strong. Stronger than him, for sure. You always knew how to act, react and say no matter the circumstances but with Falcone, it seemed like you weren’t sure what to do. It was the first time he’d seen fear within you. You were born in Gotham, by definition born tough. You’d fiercely defended your family (and his) through the years with the growing wage gap and drug epidemic. You were practically the spokesperson for Bruce for the last decade or so since he didn’t speak publicly. You had taken on that mantle. He just wanted to help you. From following you through the media and whatever Alfred said to him, you were so strong and taking on the world. He regretted the way the two of you ended the conversation the previous year. It gutted him to see you struggling. He didn’t want to lose you like he did his parents. He didn’t want to have a front row seat to your death due to your campaign to help this city you two called home.
“Please, Y/N…” his voice so soft and pleading for you to just spill everything and let him in. His feet padding across your marble floors until his body was just inches away from your back. You could feel the warmth radiating off of his body. You turned around with eyes glossy from the alcohol combined with tears of the utter fear that still coursed through you at the thought of Carmine Falcone hurting him. Maybe it was the alcohol heightening every emotion and making you want to spill your secrets.
“Falcone…” you started, trying to steady your breathing as it felt like you had forgotten how to breathe on your own. “I’m so scared, Bruce,” you shakily admitted.
“What’s he done to you?” he softly questioned, a hand coming to hold your hip while his other gently wiped the tears that had started to fall. “Please, Y/N…tell me.” Bruce didn’t often show his vulnerable side. It was rare to see him show emotions aside from anger and disgust. He kept his emotions in check with everyone. Well, everyone except you and Alfred. You were the only two who saw his varying emotions. It was absolutely killing him to the point of tears. Seeing the pain on his face only made the conflict rage on.
Telling him would risk his life. Despite being the Batman. There was no guarantee that he would survive the men that guarded the biggest mob boss in Gotham. But in not telling him, you risk your own life and the risk of your family name being torn down by Falcone. There was nothing that guaranteed you and Bruce would get away scratch-free. The risks were too high to do either one. Whether it was the alcohol or your nerves being fried from being on edge earlier, your brain didn’t have time to stop the words that spilled from your lips.
“Kiss me.”
a's taglist: i'm sorry if you were unable to be tagged!@strawberriebabbles @summerkate @pcyshi @anescapistreality @nicklet94 @nowayhomerry @1-imaginary-girl
#the batman 2022 imagine#the batman imagine#bruce wayne imagine#battinson#bruce wayne x fem!reader#bruce wayne x reader#batman x reader#robert pattinson#the batman#bruce wayne#dc imagine#dc imagines#dceu imagines#dceu imagine
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Harley Quinn and Poison Ivy by Samantha Doodles
#dc comics#dceu#dceu icons#dceu imagine#dceu fanfiction#dcu comics#dcu art#dcu icons#harley quinn#harlivy#harley quinn and poison ivy#poison ivy#pamela isley
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Compromise
Pairing: Harley Quinn x Reader
Summary: You try taking care of Harley, keyword: try.
You had lived your entire life in Gotham, but not even that could have prepared you for living with Harley Quinn. There were good and bad aspects to being with Harley. You loved her and she loved you, but the woman had a tendency to get herself in trouble. There would be days or weeks even when she wouldn't come home to you. Usually, you'd hear about the reason why on the news. You got nervous about her going to jail for big things because that was when Amanda got her hooks into your girlfriend and forced her into Suicide Squad missions. Harley had tried being careful for a little while, but that hadn't lasted for very long. Maybe a month and a half, but you couldn't blame Harley. Living a normal life wasn't in the cards for her, so you just tried to remind yourself that all you could do sometimes was take care of her.
"What are you working on?" Harley asked as she stepped in behind you. Your face immediately fell, having put Harley on bed rest less than a couple hours ago. You hadn't finished medical school to become a surgeon, but you knew enough to know that she needed to stay in bed for the next week. She shouldn't have even been able to come walk over to you. "Are these lesson plans? Criminal psychology, do you have a slide on me?"
"You're one of Arkham's most famous, so yes, I do have a slide on you Harley. If you go get back in bed, I will show it to you later," you told her. Harley contemplated your offer before just swiping your laptop and scrolling until she found hers. You tried to take the laptop from her, but even injured she was faster than you. Harley finished with her slide and then flicked through a few of the others as well. It was helpful with your job as a psychology professor at Gotham University to have Harley and her friends to help you sometimes. You had started as just a general psychology professor, but now you specialized in criminals. You had gotten so good at your job that you'd been offered a job as a consultant with any new doctors coming into Arkham.
"Babe, I love you, but some of these things are wrong. Here, let me go get my old notes." Before you could stop her, Harley got up and raced off. You groaned as you chased after her. She was trying to lift up a box in the junk closet. This time, she did give up, which made you happy. You didn't want her to accidentally rip her stitches or anything.
"You need to go lay down. I will grab this box and you can help me fix my slides. Just please, stop moving around so much. You're really starting to worry me," you told Harley. She gave a slightly defeated sigh, but made her way back to the bedroom. You brought the box of her old notebooks from Arkham into the bedroom before grabbing your other things. You had wanted Harley to get some actual rest, but you would take her helping you from bed over her trying to run around your apartment distracting herself.
#harley quinn x reader#harley quinn#harley quinn imagine#harley quinn imagines#dceu#dceu x reader#dceu imagine#dceu imagines
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Hi, I saw you write for DC! Could you do a One-Shot or Drabble about King Nereus?
I mean, I haven't seen much about him, and I think the fact that there isn't much information about his wife could be taken advantage of. And I don't think she's necessarily dead, they thought the same about Atlanna and look, she turned out to be alive (maybe the wife suffered an accident, lost memory, things like that and she remined in land).
So could u write something cute with him? Whatever you want, maybe something 'bout young Nereus, or even a reunion after he thinks for years she's dead.
Oh wow...do I suddenly get so many ideas for this....hehehe...these are the types of requests that make my mind run rampant and my husband annoyed with my brain lol.
Rating: T+
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: none that I can think of
Pairing: Nereus x FemReader
Requested: Yes
It had been many years since Mera had lost her mother. It had been many years since Queen Atlanna took her in after her mother passed as she was Orm's betrothed. However, the new king of Atlantis, Arthur, was telling her that he knew a woman who looked exactly like Mera's mother. No one knew what had happened to you. Everyone in all the kingdoms believed you were dead. Many also believed that King Nereus had lost his humanity the day that the Queen's body was nowhere to be found. Mera looked at her father who looked ready to murder the One True King of Atlantis.
"What did you just say to me?" Nereus growled softly trying to keep his emotions in check as he watched Arthur for a good long moment. There was no way that he was telling the truth about his beloved wife...his beloved Saras. "Saras is dead." he turned to leave the meeting room he was in with his daughter, Arthur, and Vulko.
"She goes by Sarah, but I can guarantee you it is her. She has been living in the same house since I was a child. She has looked nearly the same this whole time. I have seen her swimming before underwater like Atlanteans do. She told me about five years ago that she didn't remember who she was. She was found by my father much like my mother was, but Sarah didn't remember anything about her past. We helped her get back on her feet, get a job...I would show you cause I have photos on my phone, but my phone isn't exactly waterproof," Arthur told him as he stood from his chair.
Mera was so torn and close to tears. Was he telling the truth? Arthur seemed so sure of himself that her mother was alive. She looked at her father who looked about ready to break down at the thought of his wife. "Father," she said softly, swimming to him. "Go with Arthur. I believe him," the princess whispered lightly. "Please," Mera pleaded lightly.
Nereus frowned as looked at Mera before looking at Vulko and Arthur. He held his head high before nodding once. "You have one chance to prove to me that she is alive," he said, the threat behind his words hanging in the air.
"We will go in a couple of hours," Arthur said in response to him and nodded to Mera who escorted her father out of the meeting room. The new king looked at Vulko his advisor who frowned. "What is it Vulko?" he asked knowing the man had questions about this.
"Are you sure it is her Arthur," he asked gently.
"Positive. In fact, I have a feeling Mom is going to be shocked in seeing her when Dad introduces them," Arthur said with a smirk.
Meanwhile on Land - Amnesty Bay
Sarah sighed heavily as she rubbed her temples. Over the last few weeks - since the huge tidal wave that had appeared all over the world - she had been having dreams and memories from what she believed was her life before Tom had found her at his lighthouse much like he had done for his wife years before. She looked out of her car's windshield and to the sea that seemed to be oddly at peace that night. She had a long night ahead of her as she had a late shift at the bar that she worked at. She had become sort of a second mother to Arthur as he grew up after he lost his own mother. Something in the back of her mind told her that she knew Arthur's mother, but she didn't want to push her luck. Doctors had told her so many times over the years that her amnesia could possibly never be cured, but if the recent dreams and memories were anything...then it was likely that her memories of her past were returning to her.
The dark auburn haired woman slowly got out of the small car she had. It had been good to her over the years as it got her where she needed to go. The older woman turned as she heard her name being called by the very man whom had saved her life. She smiled softly at Tom Curry, but froze at the blonde woman who stood beside him. She knew this woman...not only from the photos Tom had of her, but from her own memories. Her pale green eyes widened as her head exploded in sudden pain making her hunch over from the intensity of it.
Memory 1
A much younger Saras stood nervously as her mother gushed over how she looked. Jewels and expensive fabrics covered her body as she was dressed by multiple maids. She was not ready for the wedding to happen, but she knew if she ran, her mother would hate her forever. She had to go through with this. She had to make sure her mother was proud of her. Saras smiled faintly as her father came to bring her to her groom to be...Crown Prince Nereus of Xebel. The current king was growing weak from an unknown sickness that Atlantean healers could not cure, and he wanted his only son and heir to be wed and crowned before he passed away. Her auburn hair was covered with little sea stars and pearls and flowers from the plant life that surrounded Xebel.
"You look exquisite my dear," her father whispered lightly as he brought her to the awaiting prince.
A soft smile crossed Saras lips before it fell as her father passed her hands to that of Nereus allowing the wedding ceremony to begin.
End Memory 1
"Atlanna," Sarah whispered softly to the blonde woman as she looked at the queen in shock. Arthur was the eldest of her most dearest friend. A bright smile broke out on her face as well as Atlanna's while they rushed to each other and hugged tightly.
Memory 2
Saras was gripping the hand of her husband tightly. She had demanded that he be in the birthing room with her as she gave birth to their first born child. She would not do this alone. She couldn't. Screams of pain passed her lips as she pushed on the command of the head healer. She felt as though she had been going through this pain for days instead of just a few hours.
"You can do this my beloved," Nereus whispered softly. He had gotten rid of his armor and weapons and crown and instead wore a simple tunic and pants while being here with his wife. "Our child is almost here. Just a little longer, my love."
With one final scream and one final push, Saras opened her eyes hearing the loud wails of a newborn baby. A tired smile graced her lips as she eased her hold on Nereus' hand while the wet nurse and the healer cleaned the wailing child.
"You have a daughter, Your Majesties," the wet nurse said with a bow of her head while handing the crying baby to the queen.
"A princess," Saras whispered showing what she looked like to Nereus who smiled happily. "What shall we call her?" she asked lightly.
"Y'Mera Xebella Challa," Nereus answered his wife who looked utterly exhausted from being in labor and giving birth.
"My little Mera," Saras whispered to the baby who was becoming quieter as she held Mera.
End Memory 2
Saras pulled away from Atlanna in shock. "Arthur is your son...isn't he? I had seen your pictures, but for the longest time..."
"You couldn't remember?" Atlanna quipped lightly. The blonde royal was happy to see her dear friend again. She had missed her over the years and was worried about her when she had heard they did not discover a body at the site of the accident. "What do you remember now?"
Memory 3
Saras smiled as she watched her three year old daughter and Atlanna's son get along well. She looked at the blonde queen and chuckled lightly. "They seem to be getting on very well. I have a feeling they will be quite the match when they are older," she teased her friend.
Atlanna playfully rolled her eyes at Saras. "They might...who knows for sure though," she said before going back to her husband, King Orvax.
Saras frowned before shaking her head lightly. She looked back at the children and smiled softly as she held her now flat belly again. She was with child once again and didn't know how to break the news to Nereus. The auburn haired queen frowned slightly as she heard a commotion outside of the garden that the children were playing in. She paled as she felt something suddenly pierce her lower abdomen...right where her unborn child was developing inside of her body. Her pale green eyes met the dark ones of the assailant who grabbed the Queen of Xebel and dragged her away to ensure no one would come after her.
End Memory 3
"Everything," Saras whispered softly feeling a wetness on her cheeks. She quickly wiped her cheeks and saw her tears on her fingers. "Gods Nereus must hate me," she murmured suddenly distressed as Atlanna took hold of her friend again. The day that Saras had disappeared was the day that everything changed for not only Xebel but also Atlantis. The auburn haired queen suddenly broke down in Atlanna's arms as the grief of losing her second child washed over her.
Tom stayed to the back watching the pair reunite and turned as if he knew his son was coming out of the water. Tom smiled to Arthur, Mera, and Vulko. He didn't know who the male redhead was, but he could guess that he was Mera's father. Tom moved slightly to the right watching the group of Atlanteans come closer. He stood next to Arthur as Mera and Nereus stepped closer to the two queens. "She remembers," he murmured lightly to his son.
Arthur nodded and smiled lightly as he watched the woman he cared for and her father become overwhelmed with emotions seeing the one person who had been missing from their lives for years.
Saras opened her eyes as she felt a new presence and stiffened seeing the two people she had missed desperately for years. She swallowed thickly while wiping her tears off her cheeks and pulling away from Atlanna. "Mera?" she murmured to the grown woman standing before. Her daughter...her baby girl stood beside her father. She had grown up so much over the years she had been missing. "Oh my baby girl...look at you," she gushed holding Mera's cheeks gently before gripping her daughter in a tight embrace. After a long moment, Saras looked at the man beside Mera. A soft yet gentle smile crossed Saras' lips at the sight of him. He had aged since the last time she had seen him. "Nereus," she whispered.
"Saras? is it really you?" Nereus asked as his voice cracked from the emotion swelling up inside of him. At her simple nod, Nereus lunged forward pulling his wife into a tight embrace for a long moment before pulling back and kissing her with just as much passion as he had the morning she had vanished. He felt whole for the first time in decades and did not know if he would ever be able to let go of his beloved wife again.
Saras lightly soothed Nereus as she stroked his cheeks and pressed her forehead against his. "I am here my love. I am alive and well." She looked up feeling light on her and smiled as the moon seemed to shine extra bright that night. Maybe Fate was looking after her for Fate had brought her husband and daughter back to her.
#sailorsolar12#fanfiction#imagines#imagine#aquaman#aquaman fanfiction#aquaman headcanons#aquaman imagines#aquaman imagine#dc#dc extended universe#dceu#dc imagines#dc imagine#dc fanfiction#dc headcanon#dc headcanons#dceu imagines#dceu imagine#dceu fanfiction#dceu headcanon#dceu headcanons#nereus#king nereus#xebel#atlantis#nereus imagine#nereus imagines#nereus fanfiction#nereus headcanon
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Nothing Without a Woman or a Girl
TITLE: Nothing Without a Woman or a Girl
PAIRING: Max/OC
RATING: T
CHAPTER: One-shot
SUMMARY: Molly introduces her best friend, Harley Quinn, to her new boyfriend, Max Lord.
[A/N - I'm setting this a few years before WW84, since it's clear that Max has been searching for the Dreamstone for a while. I also messed with Harley's birthyear to make this work.]
Molly sat at a café waiting for Harley to show up.
“Molly-Wolly!” Harley said. Harley kissed Molly’s cheeks and sat down across from her.
“Hey Harley.”
Harley had on her “Harleen Quinzel” disguise on. It was so jarring to see her without her flamboyant outfits, but Harley knew that Molly would be a target for the Joker’s enemies if she was seen with her.
“So, what’s going on?” Harley asked, “Mistah J is wondering what we’re doing so far from home.”
The flight from New Jersey to DC had only been an hour on the Joker’s private jet, but the Joker disliked leaving Gotham for extended periods of time.
“Well, I wanted you to meet my boyfriend and he’s based here in DC.”
“You’re datin’ someone?”
“Yeah. You know those commercials for Black Gold Cooperative?”
“The ones with that blonde guy? Life is good, but it can be better.” Harley imitated Max’s accent.
“His name is Max, but yeah.”
“You’re dating the oil tycoon? He probably makes like millions of dollars!”
Molly nodded, although she didn’t care about the money. She never had. “I want you to meet him because you’re my best friend,” Molly told her.
“Well, what are we waiting for then?”
They got in Molly’s expensive sports car Max had purchased for her and started the drive to the mansion.
Harley admired all the buttons and features. “I wish Mistah J would buy me one’a these.”
When they pulled up to the house, Harley’s mouth dropped open. “You live here?”
Molly got out and walked towards the front door.
Max was waiting for them in the foyer. “My love.”
Molly smiled and accepted a kiss from Max.
Max wrapped an arm around Molly’s waist and turned to Harley.
“Harley, this is my boyfriend, Maxwell Lord. Max, this my best friend, Harley Quinn."
Harley whipped off her blonde wig, revealing the blue and pink tips of her hair.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Harley. Molly’s told me so much about you. You two have fun. I have some calls and meetings. I’ll see you later.”
Max kissed Molly and retreated to his office.
Harley looped her arm around Molly’s. “Where’s your wardrobe?”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
“Oh, girl. You’ve got it made,” Harley said as she tried on a pair of diamond earrings.
Molly looked at her from where she was lying on the bed. “It’s not as charming as it seems, Harls.”
“You’ve got a gorgeous man who buys you anything you want and look at this house! If me and Mistah J ever break up, I will happily take Max off your hands.”
The money and the luxury were all well and great, but sometimes Molly just wanted Max. Not Max Lord, but who he was when the cameras weren’t on. Max Lorenzano. She just wanted to live in peace and help him raise Alistair.
Harley preened at herself in the mirror.
“They look good on you. You should keep them,” Molly told her.
“Really? I wish I could, but Mistah J…”
“Harley, you need to leave him. He’s no good for you.”
Harley sighed as she took the earrings out. “I know, but…but I love him, Molly.”
Molly loved Harley, but she couldn’t count how many times she’d cleaned Harley up after the Joker had beaten her to a bloody pulp. But Molly couldn’t help Harley until she helped herself.
“Well, I better be getting back. Mistah J is taking me out tonight!” Harley told her.
Molly could only imagine what that entailed.
“I’ll show myself out. See you later, Molly-Wolly!” She kissed Molly on the cheek and bounced out of the room.
Max joined her a few moments later. “What is wrong, my love? Did you not enjoy your friend’s visit?” He sat down on the bed and rubbed her back.
“I’m fine, Max.” Molly was not fine; Max could tell, but he wouldn’t push her to talk about it.
“How does a soak in the hot tub sound?” Max asked.
Molly said nothing, so Max leaned down and kissed her head. He left the room and she changed into her swimsuit.
The hot tub was inside the private pool area.
Max was waiting for her with a bottle of champagne.
She sank into the warm water and took a flute from him. “You know I’m not just with you for your money, right?” she asked him.
“Of course. What has brought this up, my love?”
Molly set her champagne flute on the side of the hot tub and crawled into Max’s lap.
“Tell me what is wrong,” Max said.
“It’s just something Harley said.”
“I love you, Molly. All this money would mean nothing without you or Alistair.”
“I don’t care about the money though! I just want you and our little family.”
“You misunderstand me, my love. I do all this so I can provide for you and Alistair. I want you to have a good life. My life would be meaningless without you. All this money and wealth would be for nothing.”
“You could go broke tomorrow and I’d still love you, Max Lorenzano.”
Max wondered if she’d still love him when she knew that he was going after the Dreamstone.
He leaned in to kiss her. “I love you too, Molly Beaudette.”
Taglist: @autumnleaves1991-blog @littlemisspascal @absurdthirst @moonlight-prose @anaaaispunk @asta-lily @pascalslittlebrat @forever-rogue @pedrostories @littlepadika
#max lord#max/oc#max lord imagines#harley quinn#harley quinn imagines#pedro pascal#pedro pascal imagine#ww84#ww84 imagine#DC#DCEU#DCEU imagines#DC imagines
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