coffee with cal

caroline. 23. in love with calum t. hood.

[sc3ptre]

had the cute fluffy idea of after Clark opens up about who he is, and of course goes through everything with reader, she asks more questions but the last one is “Do you want me to start calling you Kal-El?” because all she wants is to make him feel seen and loved

Before sunset

Pairing: corenswet!clark kent x fem!reader

⟡ Main Index | ⟡ Archive for Earth-181938

Classification: Fluff with a hint of angst | college-aged Clark and reader, childhood bestfriends to lovers

Word count: 3.3k

Divider by me ;)

The sun would never feel like this on his skin again, whether because this would be the last sunset his world would ever know after the conversation he'd been dreading for years or because, by the time it ended, you would finally step out of his life for good. To Clark, there was hardly a difference between the two.

He stood beneath the shade of the old tree, its trunk thick enough to outlive generations and its branches stretching a little farther into the sky every year, though he doubted he would come back often enough to notice the difference anymore. From the hilltop he could see the Kent farm resting quietly in the distance, the cattle grazing without a care beneath the orange wash of evening, the barn roof glowing in the fading light, yet none of it managed to hold his attention for more than a heartbeat because the only thing he could truly focus on was you, making your way up the hill with that bright, easy smile that had always undone him. 

His heart had beaten hard for you from the very first afternoon he'd seen you, when the feeling had been so new he hadn't even known what to call it but this was different, heavier and unfamiliar. It made him feel fragile because this wasn't love growing, it was fear spreading to every corner of him, fear that once the truth left his mouth there would be no taking it back, no pretending to be just Clark anymore and he realized then that he had never truly understood what it meant to dread losing someone until the possibility was standing right in front of him. 

Was this it?

You laughed softly as the incline stole your breath, breaking into a run for the last few yards before stopping in front of him with your hands on your hips. “Shouldn't we be packing?” you asked, still smiling as you looked him over, committing him to memory without even realizing it.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered whether he'd still dress like this years from now, plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up and dirt clinging to his boots or if the city waiting for him would smooth away every trace of the boy who belonged to these fields, just as you quietly wondered whether the two of you would recognize each other at all the next time life brought you back here.

“We have time,” he answered gently, the same reassurance he'd given you all summer whenever you worried about the future, about leaving and growing up too quickly.

You believed him every single time, though now he wasn't sure he believed it himself because you were ready to leave, ready to chase everything waiting for you beyond Smallville and the only thing keeping him rooted to that spot wasn't the farm or the city ahead of him but the secret sitting heavily in his chest, demanding to be spoken before it was too late.

“Do we?” you asked, your eyes searching the worry written across his face, the tension sitting heavier in his shoulders than the late summer heat ever could. 

In two days, you would leave for Metropolis University, where everything around you would change and the one thing you had always believed wouldn't was the man standing in front of you, though looking at him now, you weren't so sure anymore. The past few weeks had been spent drifting between the Kent barn and your own house, helping each other decide what deserved a place in the future and what was better left behind, tucked safely away from change. 

Clark had originally planned to stay close to Smallville, commuting every day so he could keep helping his parents on the farm and when he first told you, uncertainty softening his usually steady voice, you had smiled and tried to be supportive even if it felt wrong, because for as long as you'd known him, Metropolis University had been the dream. 

You had heard him talk about it on quiet drives home from high school, while sitting in the loft of the barn with your legs swinging over the edge and out in the fields where you watched him work beneath the relentless Kansas sun. When the time finally came and he chose Metropolis after all, you never questioned what had changed, only hid the wave of relief that swept through you as carefully as you could. 

You didn't want to be selfish but the man in front of you had come to mean more than you had ever managed to explain and somewhere in the back of your mind you had hoped leaving home would finally force the right words into your vocabulary. 

Funnily enough, he seemed to be waiting for those same words too. 

Clark gave a small nod, his gaze lingering on the farmhouse in the distance before returning to you. 

“Two days,” he murmured to himself. “Seems like enough.” 

“Enough for what, Clark?” you asked, already feeling fear climb into your throat before you could stop it. You swallowed against it, following his eyes toward the farm for a brief second before looking back at him. This time your voice came out quieter, fragile. “Clark?” 

You knew how selfish this feeling was. You had confessed it only to your pillow in the middle of sleepless nights, whispered it to the stars scattered across endless Kansas skies and let it dissolve beneath the stream of your shower where no one else could hear it. You weren't ready to say goodbye. 

Clark drew in a slow breath, one that seemed too heavy for even him to carry. “For the truth.”

You let out a shaky laugh, though it sounded more like a sigh, a breath your body surrendered without asking permission, as if fear had been sitting inside your lungs for hours looking for the nearest exit while anxiety did its best to convince the rest of you to shut down before whatever was coming could reach your heart, but neither quite managed it. 

“I’ve waited a long time…” you murmured, nodding more to yourself than to him. “I think I can wait a little longer.”

Clark shook his head immediately. “Secrets can’t see us off, Y/n.” 

“They can follow...I–I’m okay with that.” You nodded again as your eyes wandered over the field, the tree, the fence lines, anywhere but him. Meeting his eyes now felt like stepping onto a bridge you already knew would collapse beneath you. 

“Y/n.” He took a careful step closer. 

“No.” You answered just as quickly, retreating one of your own, drawing in a deep breath in a failing attempt to keep the tears where they belonged. There wasn't a reason to cry yet and somehow that only made it worse. “I’m not saying goodbye…to you.” 

“It’s not about saying goodbye.” 

“Yes it is!” The words burst out sharply. “That’s all life is.”

“It’s not,” he insisted, softer this time, unable to stop himself from taking another step toward you as you instinctively took another back, his hands lifting slowly between you, palms open, like you were some frightened animal he was desperate not to scare away. “It doesn’t have to be.” 

You let out a humorless laugh, born entirely from nerves. “You forget that I know you, Kent,” you said, pointing accusingly at him before turning to gesture toward the farm stretching behind you. “And I figured this is where you’d do it. You’d never taint the barn with goodbyes, so you’d come here instead, let them sink into the dirt where nobody could dig them back up. It’s the highest point around.” Your gaze drifted across the fields before returning to him. “You’d stand here in an unfortunate present, where this–” you motioned quietly between the two of you, “–doesn’t seem to have a place anymore and then you'd look over there.” You pointed toward the familiar silhouette of the barn. “To the place where you think it belongs.” 

Clark's expression tightened as he slowly lowered his hands. “There are things you need to know,” he said, voice pleading now. “You’ve waited long enough.” 

You sniffled, pressing your lips together. Deep down, you knew he was right. 

The Kents, the farm, the strange little moments that never seemed to add up, the things that disappeared as quickly as they happened and the stories that ended halfway through before anyone answered your questions. You had grown up alongside all of it, close to know there was always something hidden beneath the surface but never close enough to be trusted with it. 

Once, that mystery had made you curious but now it only felt like another thing standing between you. 

You searched his face, trying to imagine what kind of truth could possibly justify the fear in his voice, the look in his eyes and why he held himself as though the next few minutes might cost him everything. Your mind reached for answers and found none. 

After a long moment, you simply gave a small, defeated shrug.

“You’re a little…odd,” you said matter-of-factly, as though you were pointing out the weather rather than dismantling years of carefully guarded secrets. “You disappear all the time, then show up out of nowhere like you've only been gone five minutes and you have the strangest reactions to certain things. You’ve only been sick a handful of times and every single time, I had the feeling your mother was lying to me about it.” You smiled faintly despite yourself. “She tried her best, bless her heart.” You paused, gathering your thoughts before continuing. “You drink an alarming amount of milk…you somehow always end up in the middle of trouble, I’ve seen you bleed maybe four or five times in my life and no matter how deep the cut was, there’s never been a scar afterward. You remember everything. Birthdays, conversations, things people said years ago...I always thought you just had an unfairly good memory. You’re ridiculously strong, though I still haven’t decided whether that’s because of the gallons of milk you drink or because Jonathan Kent raised you on a farm and…” You stopped long enough to draw in a steadying breath. “I know to keep meteor rocks away from you. That’s all I need to know.”

Clark looked at you for a long moment before letting out a quiet sigh. “You can’t keep making exceptions for me,” he reasoned gently. You had always chased answers, always followed every lead until there was nothing left to uncover, except when those trails inevitably led to him. 

When you were children, he had been endlessly grateful for that blind spot but somewhere along the way, though, gratitude had become hope, hope that you would finally keep digging until you reached the truth he had never been brave enough to hand you himself. 

“Yet here you are,” you replied softly, gesturing toward him, “about to prove to me why I should.” 

He lowered his eyes for only a moment before looking back up at you. “Things are going to change in the city,” he admitted quietly, the words carrying a weight that reached far beyond either of you. “And I don’t want those changes to begin with a lie between us.” He hesitated before speaking again, his voice smaller this time. “Will you sit with me and listen? For old times' sake.” 

A quiet, bittersweet laugh escaped you as you brushed away the tear that had slipped down your cheek and took a few slow steps toward the broad roots at the base of the tree. “That’s such a sad thing to say,” you murmured. “‘Let’s do it for the love that was once there.’” 

Clark watched you with an expression so full of affection it almost hurt to meet. “There’s still plenty left,” he said softly. “More of it will pour out…if you let it.”

The sun had long since disappeared beneath the horizon by the time Clark finally let everything pour out, telling you the truth in the only way he knew how. It wasn't polished, nor rehearsed the way he'd imagined it might be during countless sleepless nights. It came in uneven pieces, tangled with old memories and stories that bridged the gaps, reaching back through the years to moments the two of you had shared, moments where your childhood suspicions had brushed against the impossible only to be gently nudged toward explanations a little girl could live with.

He filled in every blank he could remember, retracing your lives side by side until your separate versions of the same story finally became one. He showed you what words alone couldn't explain, revealing pieces of himself he'd spent his entire life hiding, baring not only the impossible truth of what he was but the frightened boy who had carried it alone for so long. 

Somewhere between one confession and the next, time slipped away unnoticed. The sky faded from gold to indigo, then to velvet black scattered with stars and the two of you remained beneath the old tree, shoulders brushing, hands resting close enough that your fingers occasionally grazed on the grass without either of you pulling away. 

For the first time in nearly four hours, silence settled comfortably between you. He had apologized more than once, asked for forgiveness in a voice that broke a little each time but there was nothing for you to forgive.

You tilted your head back, your gaze wandering across the stars overhead as though searching for one that belonged to him. “I'm sorry for your loss,” you breathed.

Clark's head turned so quickly it almost startled you. Of the three people on Earth who now knew the truth, he was certain no one else would've thought to say those words, even he rarely had. His life had always been measured by everything he'd gained, Jonathan and Martha, Smallville and you, not by the world he'd lost before he'd ever been old enough to remember it.

You turned your head to meet his eyes, your expression gentle despite the tears still drying on your cheeks. “And I'm sorry…” you admitted. “I tried to run.” A sheepish smile tugged faintly at your lips. “I don't do well with goodbyes.”

A tiny smile found its way onto his own. “I would've caught up to you.”

You let out a soft laugh, lowering your eyes to your hands as they fidgeted absentmindedly in your lap. “I suppose you would've.” The words lingered for a moment before another thought surfaced. “Don't you want to know more?” you asked. “About...Krypton, I mean.” The word was still foreign on your lips.

Clark looked up toward the stars, following your gaze. “The past comes to me in pieces,” he said softly. “At odd moments in my life. Whenever I go looking for it…”

“It outruns you,” you finished in the same quiet tone.

He nodded once, mostly to himself. “Yeah.” A thoughtful breath left him as he shrugged lightly. “I don't know what's waiting for us where we're going. I don't know what university will be like or who we'll become once we leave this place.” His eyes drifted back to yours, certain despite everything he'd just confessed. "I just know that whatever it is...I need you there with me.”

You smiled before you could stop yourself, your chest tightening in that familiar way it always did whenever he looked at you like that. “I don't think I know anywhere else to be,” you admitted softly. “My heart certainly doesn't.” You drew in a slow breath of cool night air, the breeze carrying the scent of grass and earth through the field and a quiet laugh escaped with it. “Could you hear it?”

“Always...it's my favorite sound,” he confessed and you let your head come to rest against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of him beneath your cheek before he pressed a lingering kiss to the top of your head. 

He had heard your heart skip and stumble more times than he could count over the last few hours, every truth he admitted and every impossible thing he showed you sent it racing all over again and each time it did, a part of him wished he could rewind the evening. It wouldn’t have been to keep the secret but to tell you sooner, to spare you years of guessing, because there wasn't a single universe where he chose a life that didn't eventually lead to placing the whole truth in your hands. 

“Was it scary?” he asked quietly. 

“No…” you answered after a moment, your eyes drifting back to where you'd watched his feet leave the grass beneath the setting sun. “You were beautiful.” The memory settled over you again, impossible and breathtaking in equal measure, yet language still failed you the way it always did whenever something mattered too much. “I whisper to the stars about you sometimes,” you admitted softly. “It's very special that they managed to keep your secret for you.” 

A small smile tugged at Clark's lips. “You think they know me?” 

You looked up at the sky, at the endless scattering of stars overhead, imagining every one of them as a soul Krypton had lost, still watching over the son it had sent away. “I think they sent you here,” you murmured. “And I think they were eager to hear about their son from someone who could translate feelings into light.” You paused, your gaze never leaving the heavens. “Do you think they miss hearing your other name?” 

Clark's breath caught. For the first time in his life, he felt as though he understood himself a little better and somehow it had happened because you'd looked at everything he'd feared and found something beautiful inside it. “You might know them better than I do,” he admitted. 

You lifted your head from his shoulder to look at him. “I could introduce you one day.”

When your eyes met, he nodded without hesitation. “I'd like that.” 

You looked back up at the stars then, certain they shone a little brighter than before, the summer sky stretching endlessly above the two of you like it had been listening all evening. 

“They ask me, 'Have you seen our son? Have you seen our beautiful Kal-El?'” you whispered.

Clark turned his head toward you, watching your profile instead of the constellations. “And what do you tell them?”

A fond smile spread across your face. “I tell them you used to hide behind the sun…” you murmured. “And that I'm not sure I should speak that name.” 

He shook his head gently, something old and heavy slipping from his shoulders with the movement as he finally looked up. “I won't hide anymore.”

The silence that followed settled comfortably between you, filled only by the distant chorus of crickets and the wind rustling through the tall grass. 

“Would you ever want to hear it more often?” you asked at last, shyly. 

When he looked at you, you continued, “I think it'd be...unkind for the part of you that came before Earth to only exist in stories or in your Fortress. If that's your name, it shouldn't be forgotten just because everyone else calls you Clark.” Your eyes searched his carefully, as though asking permission long before the words themselves did. “I'd be careful with it,” you promised softly after a small pause. “I could keep it close...hold it the way it deserves to be held.” 

Clark's breath caught somewhere in his chest. No one had ever offered to carry that part of him with such tenderness, to love a name that belonged to a planet he didn’t remember as though it had been entrusted to them. His fingers found yours where they rested in your lap, threading between them until your hands fit together as naturally as they always had. 

“My future is yours to keep…” he said quietly, his thumb brushing absent circles across your knuckles. “And so is my past.” A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “If anyone could teach me a kinder way to hear my own name...it'd be you.”

A/N: If you enjoyed this story, feel free to explore the archive for more! Liking and reblogging helps others discover my writing and comments always make my day, they’re a huge encouragement for me to keep creating. Thank you so much for reading!

[luveline]

asking clark to get married when you’re already married do you see the vision

When your legs are hurting and you’ve spent an entire day walking around with someone’s fingers woven between yours—someone who treasures every second of your company like he’s just lucky to be in it—you find you aren’t as eager to get home as you’d imagined. You’d limp the entire night through the dark with Clark if it meant you’d get to keep talking to him. 

But then you remember who you married. Clark would stay up all night with you if you enticed him in conversation.

“Baby,” you say, giving Clark’s hand a swing to make him smile. “Would you marry me?” 

“Again?” He wrinkles his nose, blue eyes a little dark from the squint and the thickness of his brows pinching together, but he’s still smiling, and he’s leaning down to kiss the tip of your nose. “Of course I would. Every day of my life, I’d marry you. That was a great day, huh?”

“Yeah.” You lay your face in his arm. “Can I put my wedding dress on when we get home?”

“If you promise not to take it off.”

“I think you’re supposed to take it off.”

Clark laughs and sweeps you up for hugging in the middle of the sidewalk, barely twenty steps from the apartment building, but he just can’t wait. He hugs you and laughs like he’s giddy by your ear. “No, please, it’s too pretty. You can put it on and we can defrost the cake, pretend it’s fresh. I have my suit pressed at the back of the wardrobe.” He frowns at your shock. “What? It’s what I was wearing when you married me. You’re lucky I didn’t put it behind plexiglass.”

(You’re not kidding around. You put on your wedding dress, and Clark kisses you in the kitchen like you’re standing at the alter.)

[quiteamessbabes]

loml (part 2)

Request/ he's the love loss of your life, until he starts showing up to tie your shoes.

Part 1!

Clark Kent x Female Reader

Word Count: 14.5k Listeeeen i worked on it for a while. This part 2.

Content: MDNI (18+) Smut after the last cut. Unprotected piv, oral (m recevieng), fingering. Angst/fluff. Talk of sexual activities. High school sweethearts who break up and loose contact until you meet Superman and you know. TW: Parent death AND descriptions of violence, reader's mom dies. Lex hurts her. Readers is an art girl with a gallery. Clark is a wuss.

A/N: the long and winding road. so long. so overtly romantic and bantery. Not feeling my best so i poured a lot into this but then the ending was rushed. Anyways, thank you for taking the time to read my work, I really really appreciate it. Love always, mani.

“We should do a team costume, guys!” Jimmy exclaimed, scrolling through a website on his phone as he looked at the invite for a party a friend for a Halloween event the following week.

“How about the Wizard of Oz? Yeah, Clark can be the coward.” Clark’s mouth dropped at Lois’s attack, looking up at her with a warning.

“You mean the cowardly lion?” Cat looked a Lois with crossed eyebrows, twisting her head in confusion.

“Yeah, that.” Lois smiled fake and mean as she looked at Clark, making him cringe. Cat and Jimmy looked at each other because clearly there was something they didn’t know. 

“Right, maybe let’s circle back tomorrow.” Clark sighed, shaking his head and going back to his sandwich. Lois had been on his nerves recently, ever since she hung out with you again and she found out Clark had not been honest with you about who he was. The conversation had been a month ago, and yes, he still walked Beetle with you in his downtime and helped you when you needed like when your un-tied sneaker made you fall. He didn’t know you did it on purpose when you thought of him and were bored, and you didn’t know he happened to be listening every time.

Your brain was rotten nowadays, sometimes you’d hope for some danger or torture because you knew he’d be there in the blink of an eye and take care of you, walk you home, carry your heavy purse or just place a hand on your arm briefly. It was a small fix, it helped you get by without thinking about it too much. You ignored the implications of having Clark back in your life and how it could potentially fuck you up completely, undo the progress you had made and make you go back into the sad shell of a woman you were when he left.

Because the truth still stood, he had left you and never looked back. Not even now, when he was seeing you almost regularly, had he broken a single second. Showed he missed you. Showed he regretted what had happened. At least, that’s what you gathered. The truth was far more complicated than what it looked like, though. Clark had gathered a little more faith and courage during the last few times you spoke, he felt like he had reached another more comfortable level in your life. He stopped calling you ma’am and called you by your actual name, he held Beetle’s leash sometimes and ignored the confused looks from people in the street. You stopped shaking in fear every time he flew away or landed on the floor besides you. You got a little meaner, a little cattier, which meant you were comfortable around him. To Clark, it meant that if you liked Superman, you’d be thrilled to find out it was him all along. You’d see it as an attempt to get back into your life and appreciate the gesture. You could talk about all that happened and see where you stood, if there was any possibility for him to be back in your life for good. Re -hatch that old plan, polish off the loving nicknames, the soft touches he knew you loved. Shit, he could investigate getting a Komodo dragon if it means that much to you.  Anything if it meant that you’d get through.

That was the idea, at least. It was a real slow play, he’d keep his head out of the gutter anytime you wore those satin dresses or put on especially shiny gloss, he’d try not to swoon every time you ranted about something you loved like a new set of brushes or a new tv show.  He wouldn’t whine every time you mentioned a cute costumer or your hot neighbour. He wouldn’t read into the way your eyes followed him when he left or the beat of your heart when he’d come all sweaty towards you. He wanted to find a line he could cross, an opportunity to jump at and finally come out with all that he’d been holding back. Give you all his affection, all that he could offer. There hadn’t been a minute he wasn’t aching to. But it still wasn’t right. It was a puddle of rain he held between his hands- his hands were strong, sturdy, decided- if anyone could keep a drop from falling, it was him. So, he’d take it day by day. Lois didn’t understand that. She was pissed off and confused at the fact he kept waiting for the whole situation to explode on him and you to disappear again, when she knew, she knew Clark was so desperate for more. For being truthful and honest, to let you see everything he was and embrace the way you’d accept him. Because you would, she could tell you would. There was nothing but kindness, curiosity and love behind your eyes.

“Is Halloween a heavy workday?” You asked as you sat crossed legged on your terrace, painting a couple of trees you saw in the distance and Superman sat on the other chair of your balcony, sipping on the chamomile tea you’d offered. You remembered his mother made him some after long days, a tablespoon of honey and usually some baked good next to it. You just had the tea and honey though. You really wondered what he thought of it, if he thought it was coincidence or noticed you remembered.

“Yeah, I also like to like… say hi to the people, the kids. Some of them wonder if it’s really me, it’s really endearing.” You giggled, nodding as you sipped on your own tea and let the hand on your dog’s head fall, backing him moan and press against you again for more of your affection.

“Do you have any plans for Halloween?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. Dressing up is not really my thing. I think it’s-uhm. Never mind.” You shook your head and stopped your words, sniffling behind your cup to avoid saying what you meant.

“What?”

“Nothing, you’ll feel bad for me and get that presidential sorrow face.” Clark frowned, eyebrows crossing.

“What?”

“You do that closed lip straight line and sympathetic look like you feel sorry for me.”

“I don’t- whatever, don’t distract me. What were you gonna say?” He did do that.

“I just- I feel like dressing up is only for groups of friends and hot people. Like if you don’t fall into that, you look like a loser.” You clearly had made up your mind about it; it sounded like something that was cemented in your brain. Clark gulped, trying not to do the face while hiding it behind his cup of tea. It was sorrow for himself though, about not being there. He knew every single moment he wasn’t there to protect you from all harm was a waste of time. He was less of a man for not standing by you all these times.

“What happened that made you think that?”

“Last time I dressed up, in college, I looked like a loser because it was just me and a friend. And we did like normal costumes, but we weren’t let into the club because we weren’t in a group or in corsets. They let it in a group of Avatars and not us. And then it obviously every pretty girl.”

“What were you two dressed up as?”

“It’s… not important.”

“I think it is.”

“Snoopy and Charlie Brown.” You whispered, cheeks red as he looked at you. He licked his lips and he smiled, imagining how silly and cute you’d look like that.

“That’s… adorable.” You rolled your eyes, a smile invading your cheeks. You placed your hand over your mouth so he couldn’t see how affected you were. He called you adorable, like a child or a three-legged puppy. It shouldn’t garner this reaction.

“Well, my friend wanted to do like something sexy and I just- couldn’t do hot. I can’t. I don’t like- own it. I look like I got lost inside some knee-high boots. So, we went with that. And we couldn’t get it in, so we went home and watched movies.” Superman laughed, shaking his head at the mere audacity of you thinking you couldn’t do hot. You could probably teach a class on how to be hot.

“So, no costumes? Not even some cat ears?”

“Especially not cat ears, you either do it well or not at all.” He chuckled; you laughed back and ran your hands through your hair. This closeness was dangerous, you knew that.

“You should do it, though. Whatever you want, try snoopy again or just another cartoon. I’ve seen people in those inflatable dinosaur costumes get into clubs. That’s not hot.” You ran your tongue against your gums, biting back a mention at when he went as a Chewbacca in junior year and you wanted to eat him whole. Didn’t know why. It was something about him being so openly nerdy. And you didn’t hold back, not for the whole party that night. Yoda missed his sidekick and he indulged you without worry, his face was full of lip-gloss, mask pulled back and furry hands on your hips.

“To you. You don’t know what the bouncer likes.”

“You’re so hardheaded.” Clark shook his head, turning to you with those trademarked dimples and scary, honest blue eyes.

“Famously.”

“Oh Clarkie! I’m going to make your night.” He looked up from his beer at Lois, who approached him with a smile. An evil one, the one that was shit-eating and meant that she knew something she couldn’t wait to spit out.

“You’ll never guess who’s here.” Jimmy shoved the piece of paper with a number into the pocket of his jeans. He was something manly and dumb, Fight Club? Something like that. He’d asked Clark to be the other half. He denied it and went as Indiana Jones, a costume well-used and loved. He stood by them now, Cat coming too with a new drink for Lois.

“Who?”

“Your ex.” Everyone gasped, Lois rolling her eyes at the dramatics.

“Where-“

“Kent has an ex?” Cat asked, interrupting Clark.

“She’s in the back with friends. Just said hi to her.”

“Which one? Well, the high school one is the only one that would make him pale like that.” Jimmy answered his own question, looking over at the place where Lois had mentioned she saw her. Clark licked his lips, shaking his head to get him out of the trance.

“How do you know her?” Cat inquired.

“Oh, he was stalking her once in the office and I went to meet her. Did a piece on her gallery, lovely girl.” Lois spat out the straight truth, Cat laughing at how meddling her friend was and Jimmy chuckling too. He had made it a point to not listen in tonight, you could have plans, as did he, and he didn’t want to pry. He would’ve heard you if it wasn’t for the loudness of the bar.

“Go say hi!” Cat encouraged, the whole group moving closer to where Lois had seen you. And there you were, you weren’t Snoopy again, but it was just as endearing. You were The Fantastic Mr. Fox, brown skirt, beige shirt and a tie. You had the ears and your nose was painted and you were wonderful. And it was still incredibly hot. He was grinning like an idiot as he watched you move your ears up towards your hair, laughing at something your friend said. Always so brave, taking his advice and trying again. It made him arm and fuzzy inside. He stood still though, because he didn’t know how to approach you. He wanted to, he really wanted to. He was dying to talk to you as Clark, see what it would be like. How you’d react, what you thought of him nowadays. But he was scared. Scared that it would turn out bad and he couldn’t be in your life anymore, not as Clark or Superman or anyone else. Just when Jimmy was going to take his arm to pull him closer, a man suddenly wrapped an arm around your waist. It was the neighbour, Winston, Clark could recognize him. He didn’t do much else, squeezed affectionately and you turned around to say something to him. Winston then moved and approached the other people in your group. Clark’s smile dropped dramatically, like he was being cheated on when he wasn’t. You weren’t together and a hug is not cheating.

“Clark- she said she was single.” Lois pulled his arm to whisper in his ear like she knew exactly what he was thinking. Clark licked his lips, stealing another look at you. He looked at the tie again and recognized it, it was your father’s, he’d seen it many times before, at the masses done for your mother mainly. He loved that you had it now.

“Let’s- I don’t want to bother her.” He shook his head and moved back to the bar where they hanged before that. Jimmy and Cat accepted it easily, thinking it was only normal for one to not want to say hi to an ex. Lois frowned, looking back to you and towards Clark, like she didn’t want to leave it at that. If Clark wasn’t going to be brave himself, she wanted to force him. It wasn’t right, though. It was meddling and she knew the complexity of the situation. But she was dying for Clark to hurry the hell up with you.

“How do I know it’s actually you and not a costume?” You inquired, eyebrow raised and smirking at Clark as he walked up to you, as you cleaned some of the mess left by the trick or treaters outside the building. It was actual Halloween tonight, a rainy Tuesday night where Metropolis had still been so alive. He knew the rest of the night looked like heavy work, Clark thought it might be a good idea to see you, check you were fine, before taking on the night. He hadn’t seen you since that party, where you looked so adorable and fun and he had been too chicken to speak a word to you as Clark.

“You can’t recognize me?” He teased back and you hummed, looking him up and down and crossing your arms in front of you.

“Those eyes are unmistakable, Kal-el.” The blushing up to his ears and blinking things visits him again, making you laugh. He rolled his eyes, leaning against the railing of the stairway next to you.

“No costume today?”

“Nah, couldn’t take attention from the real stars. Guess what Tiana is?”

“Princess Tiana?” You tapped the tip of your nose, Clark chuckling.

“So predictable, that girl. Wanted to take Beetle trick and treating too.” You held the bowl to your chest, not many candy left in it since it was late and most kids should be heading home by now.

“Where is he?”

“I’m glad you asked. He wants you to see his costume.” You motioned for him to follow, opening the door to the building that only had four apartments. In the hallway laid Beetle with a red cape and the symbol of the house of El in yellow. He looked like he was resting after a long day of work. Clark couldn’t help his grin.

“Did he pick it out?”

“Mhm, he went right into Petco and paid.” Clark thought of how insane it was the Petco had pet costumes of him, there were people on the streets, young and old, pets and all sporting his attire. That’s what he meant to the city. That’s who he was now. Beetle shook his tail and demanded attention as soon as he recognized Clark, an image of the impact Superman’s kindness had done. A dog had his cape, and you put it on him, you liked Superman. Enough to buy your dog the costume and show it to him. This was a big step, really moved his slow play. You looked at them as Clark crouched down, giving the dog his demanded attention and rubbing up against him in glee, like he knew Clark would like him extra today.

“This is… so cute. Thank you.” You laughed, shaking your head and putting your hands up on in defence.

“It’s all him.”

“You’re not jumping, are you?”

“Ha-ha. If I was, it would have gotten very uncomfortable for you.” You looked up at Superman as he hovered, flying down slowly in front of you. The wind was blowing hard and his cape was flowing regally in the wind; he was a vision of strength.  A vision of vocation, of choosing to be good. All American goodness in a bottle. It made you shake in fear sometimes, being something so small next to him. Made you understand why you couldn’t be his partner anymore; you weren’t grand enough. Weren’t super enough.

“It’s a weird look on you. All alone in a train station at… 9pm on a Wednesday.” He said as he cleaned his hands against his legs, having just come from a dirty mission uptown where his hands got dusty. He offered his hand to you, indicating for some of the skittles you were eating. You rolled your eyes but obliged, spilling the circular candies onto his palm.

“I’m waiting for the train.”

“Going somewhere?”

“Are you my security guard or what?” You teased, laughing at the fact that he wanted to know anything and everything about you.

“Sort of. You pay me in candy.” He motioned to his hand before shoving a couple of the sweet treats into his mouth, licking his lips to get all the sugar and making you turn away before you started to fantasize about what else that tongue could do.

“I’m waiting for someone; he’s coming to visit me for a couple of days.” You admitted, pulling your scarf closer as you looked at the estimated arrival time of the train again. Not too long now.

“Friend?”

“Husband. Returning from war.”

“War broke out in Maryland?” He teased, looking at the origin of the train. His laugh fell a little at the simple thought of you being married, though.

“My brother’s coming to visit me.” You finally said, Clark swallowing the knot is his throat that had developed.

“Oh! Fun. He’s in Maryland?”

“Yes, he’s going to the University of Maryland.”

“Studying?”

“Philosphy. Minors in Classic Mythology. He wants… no job at all.” Clark laughed, he remembered him being nerdy, just like Clark, when he was smaller. He worshipped Clark, asked him anything and everything, liked doing what Clark was doing. Clark was the older brother he never had, the one who indulged him in playing and joining you in movie nights where you mainly just wanted to make out and ended up watching a dinosaur documentary. Clark’s heart broke when after you broke up, your brother glared at him and said nothing, looking at Clark with pure hatred and disappointment. Like he couldn’t believe his hero left them.

“Well, there’s a demographic.”

“Yeah, maybe some of the people who follow him around will take care of him. He’s like… a smart frat bro with human decency and an ability to talk about nerdy shit for hours. Girls, boys, everyone wants him. He’s coming here to study for his exams because people won’t leave him alone on campus.” He nodded with a laugh, pleased to learn that he was having fun and being loved. You smiled too, fond of your brother living a vibrant, happy life after having a rough patch. The train announcement spoke loud through the speakers, announcing the arrival within the next five minutes.

“Okay, scram, Supes. Don’t want you to steal my thunder.” You stood up, looking at Kal-el with menacing eyes. You didn’t want your brother to see him, not only because it would make you seem lame in comparison, but because you knew your brother would probably recognize Clark too. And he wouldn’t play into this stupid game you two were doing, he’d flat out point out the identity and be pissed at you for entertaining it. Superman gave you a tight-lipped smile and nodded, bowing with his hands pressed together in prayer like he was grateful for any minute of your company before flying off into the sky.

“Has she introduced you to Superman?” Your neighbour asked your brother as they stood in the hallway getting to know each other, your eyes falling open in shock. Big mouthed Winston. Tiana was tugging Beetle’s toy with care and Beetle, like the all-knowing dog he was, was pulling soft, so soft to not make her fall.

“Superman?”

“Yeah, he walks her home and once he helped me get a flower from a tree! He picked me up!” Tiana interferes, telling her favourite story now that she had acknowledge the existence of Superman and found him terribly fun. She asked and Kal-el obliged, putting her on his shoulder to help her reach the specific flower she wanted while you babysat her and were doing flower crowns in the park. Your brother’s eyebrows raised through his shaggy hair, looking at you as he cut into his food. He had requested you make his comfort meal, a stuffed chicken breast and mashed potatoes, and he was eating his second plate while standing at the doorway. Winston had knocked to see if Tiana could give Beetle a toy she’d picked out for him.

“How haven’t you mentioned that?” He asked and you sighed, crossing your arms in front of you.

“It’s probably because she has a crush on him.” Winston said, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You rolled your eyes, not knowing it was so evident that you looked at him with more love than admiration, more comfort than amusement. Looked at his chiselled chest not like an enjoyer of the human body, or a horny woman, but as someone who knew what was inside was far more beautiful. Your brother looked at you, eyes wide open in shock.

“Aren’t you like… celibate?”

“First, no. Second, you can be celibate and have crushes. Third, don’t tell people that!” You fought as Winston laughed, looking down at Tiana who was very evidentially not listening and would not be asking her mom what ‘celibate’’ means.

“I also think she’s celibate.”

“I- I made out with that dude on Halloween. The one dressed as Reservoir Dogs.”

“So just a suit?” Your brother pointed out.

“I never said he was winning any prizes for it.”

“And making out does not constitute getting laid.”

“Oh my God, there’s a child here.” You pointed at Tiana who was now sitting down in her living room, watching something on the tv while petting the dog’s ears.

“I’m just worried- I haven’t seen a man here since you arrived, besides Superman.” Winston was a friend. A good friend, and when Tiana was with her mom, a bother and a slut. He would parade woman around and sometimes knock on your door to borrow a condom (you got a box just to give him, very pro-safe sex) or as about a niche topic he wanted to use to seduce them further. So of course, in comparison to him, you were a prude.

“I’ve been here 5 months. Sorry for not bringing a guy home to meet you.”

“Besides Superman?” Your brother pointed out and you sighed again, pulling him inside the apartment.

“Done with this conversation, you guys don’t get it.” And they really didn’t. You weren’t waiting, weren’t saving yourself for anything or anyone but when Clark came back into your life, just like before, other men seemed less interesting. He took up everything he could claim inside you, heart, lungs- you breathed him in like menthol, immediately opening your senses. Sometimes lower down too, when you thought about how special he was to be the first to be there. Clark wasn’t a natural born stud. It took him time, quite some time to learn what to do down there in the handful of times he tried. But he was always sweet, so gentle, tried to measure his strength (you now realize how hard in must have been back then) open to criticism and mostly, you loved him enough to keep trying. Not too often, only when he wasn’t busy holding back and hiding around or being too much of a gentleman to touch you below the waist (he was never strong enough to avoid breasts). In darker, more self-deprecating moments, you thought he just wasn’t attracted to you like that, wondered if the sex was so disappointing that first time, he had decided to dump you after it. So, the memories were mostly held on the love and intimacy, not much else. You just ended up winded and splashing cold water on your face, because that was more consuming and embarrassing than lust.

“Be good.” You kissed your brother’s cheek, holding him close while you waited for the bus that would take him back to college and you’d see him until Thanksgiving in a couple weeks, sure, but it was your baby brother, out there alone. He seemed great, but you still worried. Worried that you hadn’t been enough of a good figure for him growing up, didn’t take over that motherly role when your own mother died. You wanted him to be nice and kind, that behind those dinosaurs and nights spent reading, he had learned to be good.

“I will. I’ll see you soon. I’ll let you know when I’m back in the dorms.”

“Okay, you need money? You being safe?”

“Regular afterschool special and you already gave me money.” You smacked him in the side of his head; you weren’t referring to that (although it was good to know that he was being safe all around). The bus started to pull in and the people started forming a line, he pulled away from you.

“I wanted to ask, have you reached out to Clark? Now that you’re both in the same city?” Your eyebrows raised as you watched him get into line. He tried to seem casual, but you knew it had to be in his mind for some time.

“Kent?”

“Which other, dumbass? I looked him up and he lives here, he’s a reporter.” So, he had looked him up, probably just keeping tabs on him with lingering anger or just nostalgia.

“No, I haven’t.” You shook your head and it was sort of the truth.

“Okay, just wondering.”

“Why?”

“Because there’s something different about you. A little less uptight, less moody. Like you used to be when you were with Clark.” Your mouth dropped, looking at his smirk like he knew there was something going on.

“Must be Superman, then.”

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You mumbled, someone appearing out of nowhere through the glass of the gallery. It was late, you had stayed until you finished an order with an artist in Bangladesh, so you were the only one here. In front of you stood a tall, bald man with a suit and a smirk you had only seen on the evil bisexual from Skins. Behind him stood two figures, just as tall but also buff and with glasses. Your eyes shrunk as you held your hand to your heart, feeling the beating that had sped up from the scare was not slowing down as they stared at you. You opened the door, slightly ajar to talk to them.

“I’m sorry, we’re closed.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m just itching to buy some art for my apartment. Can’t open for the promise of a sell? Money’s not a problem.” The man said and you gulped. He sounded calm, but something told you, you couldn't say no. You nodded, he pushed the door open with a smile and him and his bodyguards walked in. You put your purse down next to the counter, following his steps. Around the gallery quietly, he hummed as he looked at the art pieces. Was he going to rob you? Was he just one of the guys that made everyone feel uncomfortable?

“How much is this one?” He stopped in front of one of your favourites that hadn’t sold due to the high price tag.

“It’s weaved loom representing a jaguar, Aboriginal from the artists’ homeland. It took over 150 hours to complete and-

“Don’t care. I asked how much it was.” Well. He was right.

“It’s- uhm, fifty thousand.” You upsold it, thinking maybe he’d leave if he thought you guys were just scammers and abusing art.

“Sold. Wrap it up or whatever.”  Oh. Okay. You were about to ask about delivery when the two bodyguards lifted it from its standing on the wall and took it to the car that was invading the sidewalk in front of your gallery.

“Is cash alright?” He asked, walking up to the counter. You nodded and watched him take out a wad of cash. Probably more than you asked for and fuck, you’d have to count the bills. You’re artist, you don’t know how to count. At least this would make the artist’s yearly salary. It made this uncomfortable interaction worth it. You opened the computer to start creating an invoice as he watched you carefully.

“You’re pretty.” You glanced up at him to see if he was flirting, he wasn’t. He said it like a methodical observation.

“Oh, thanks.” You hid your face as you started to pack the printer.

“Must be why Superman hangs around you all the time.” You dropped the wad of paper, taken off guard at the mention of him.

“What?”

“People have seen you with Superman. Park dates, cocoa. Real cute.” You hadn’t realized that beyond people staring at you like you got lost and Superman was helping you find your parents, they were considering that you seemed to be with him at least once a week.

“I don’t know what-“

“You don’t seem dumb. You know what I’m talking about. You know him, pretty well, it seems.” He put his arms on the counter, leaning closer to you as you tried to gather what you had dropped and hoped he didn’t see your nerves. You had nothing to hide.

“I mean, we run into each other and talk sometimes. He helps me carry groceries and once I almost got stabbed and he intervened.” You tried to explain, finally gathering yourself and realized you had no reason to fear this bald, over-grown baby with a stupid fucking vest. He didn’t have a single hair on his head, shit, that’s like really bald. He laughed dryly.

“So, he’s just nice?”

“Well, yeah. Isn’t that his whole thing?” The man frowned and nodded, like you had won this time. You almost laughed too.

“But he just keeps helping you, huh? You seem fine. Don’t think there’s an elderly woman who needs more help with her groceries than you?”

“Probably. I just give like a needy vibe. Must be that.” You tried to shake it off, redirected your focus to the computer and decided he would not see your nervous hands shake or the tittering of your teeth. He huffed, shaking his head and you could see him losing his patience.

“You don’t look like the damsel in distress type.”

“Sign here, sir.” You pointed at the bottom of the invoice, handing him a pen and he did so, an illegible scribble being done on the space.

“I know you know who I am.”

“I really don’t, I just moved here.”

“I’m Lex Luthor. I have a lot of power in this city. And I want to know what you know about Superman.” He pushed the pen and paper towards you. You had heard of him, seen Luthor Corporation things all around the city and you could guess he was probably right.

“He likes whipped cream and marshmallows in his hot chocolate. Greedy, huh?” He let out an exasperated sigh at your games, walking towards you. You took a gander at your surroundings- his bodyguards where outside watching, but otherwise, there could have pretty much been tumbleweed blowing through the streets. Fuck.

“What’s his real name?” He grabbed your arm, gripped it hard and mean and pushed you towards the wall, your head hitting on the wall. It was drywall and you have a famously hard head- the dent was immediate.

“Something alien-y, probably. I call him Superman. Supes sometimes. He’s Superman to me.” Lex looked actually upset now, lips quivering in fury. He probably thought it’d be easier to get information out of you, a defenceless lady in kitten heels who he couldn’t figure out the name of until he got someone to follow you to work after a morning run in with Kal-el, he helped you fix your broken heel and you laughed together for a while before he flew off.

“C’mon, try a little harder. Let’s shake that brain again.” He grabbed your chin, his hand was uncomfortably soft and his rings felt expensive in a tacky way. He pushed your head back again, another thud echoing and this time cutting your chin with one of his rings, the rich material of the stone slitting the skin.

“Superman. Wanna try that again? I don’t know how much help I’ll be when I pass out.” Lex looked at how your blood ran down his thumb and he could feel your heartbeat pressing through your head. Just as he grabbed the sides of your head to hit you one last time, the thud of your head was covered by a bigger noise, the noise of Superman smashing both bodyguards against each other and into the ground and stepping into the gallery. Three times you said his name, and just like Beetlejuice or Bloody Mary or whatever was the wholesome, handsome version of that, he appeared to your rescue.

“Let go, Lex.” He warned, walking fast as he pointed his finger at the man holding your banged head. You smiled softly, you didn’t want to summon him here, but you were running out of options and knew if you called, he’d appear. He was there for you now.

“And he saves the day.” Lex let go of your head but pushed it back one last time, definitely softer, like he knew it would bait Superman, but it still hurt. Luckily, the dent of drywall kind of had already shaped to your head.

“You okay?” Clark looked at you, not moving closer to you since he knew Lex would realize how much you actually meant to him. He had to act like you were just another citizen he ran into often, like your voice was simply a higher decibel that made him listen to you first, over anyone else. It could be that, or it could be the fact that he heard it even in his dreams. It was his most played song- his favourite audiobook. Lex couldn’t know that, though.

“Fine. I could go all night.” He let out a small smirk at your words before grabbing Lex Luthor who huffed angrily and let Superman walk him out of the room. You grabbed onto your head hard as you removed it with a careful movement off the wall. Seems like it was actually supporting you, because as soon as it left the space, it felt spinning and like it could fall off at any second. You didn’t let it see, though. You walked to the entrance, grabbed your purse and pushed down the drapes that covered the space, Lex was saying something, but you couldn’t hear it, it was low or your brain was giving out now. Seemed to piss Kal-el off, though, because he smashed Lex onto his black SUV. You closed the gallery, keys falling back into your purse and your eyes semi shutting as Lex’s bodyguards lifted themselves and ran to Luthor’s aid. Superman stepped away and towards you, grabbing your waist and cradling your head with care.

“What are you doing here so late?” He whispered, doing a scan of your heart and it was beating fast and strong, you were fine. You didn’t look fine, though. Your head was wet with blood and your chin dripping. He wiped it quickly, it was replaced soon enough by more, but he looked into your eyes and saw how they were shutting down softly. You were fighting it, though. Gosh, you were the bravest girl in the county and now in the city. How could anyone hurt you? How could he had hurt you?

“I’m gonna fly you out, okay? Get you some help.” Clark announced, firm as he started hovering off the ground slowly in fear you’d pass out on him if he was too rough. You glanced in your half-shut eyes at the ground, seeing Luthor climbing into his car. You let out a deep breath, finally away from him.

“I was- I was actually really scared, Clark.” You whispered and he looked at you, holding you so tight it was probably making you dizzier than the flying. He hadn’t been this close since high school, this hot, this fearless.

“I know, honey. You were amazing.” He laughed with a bitterness, and you nodded before closing your eyes finally.

“Thanks for coming, Clark.” The breeze of the cold night felt amazing, you felt it probably too much inside your skull but it felt like when you were in the car with windows down and Clark let you sign and play any song you wanted, air in your hair and nothing else besides each other.

“I got you; I got you now.” He whispered, decided, breathless and worried. You nodded, cradling yourself into his chest.

“Okay, we managed to stitch around the hair, hun. Not a lot had to be shaved.” The nurse said as she pulled your hair to the side to let you examine their handy work.

“Oh, you are a miracle worker.” You looked at the wound behind your head with the handheld mirror, very nicely stitched.

“I know. You’ll be discharged today, sweets. You said someone is coming to pick you up?”

“Yeah, my neighbour.”

“And you’re sure you don’t wanna press charges?”

“I- I’m not sure. It was an accident.” The nurse nodded like she didn’t believe you.

“Do you need any help?”

“No, no. I swear it was an accident. I’m perfectly fine.” She sighed and nodded, pinching your cheek like she was trying to see if you would break at that. You didn’t.

“Okay, hun. You’re gonna be fine, it was delight to have you here, though. It was so scary when Superman came in with you. Don’t get me wrong, he brings people in whenever there’s an emergency. But he looked way more affected than usual, he looked heartbroken, beaten down. And let me tell you, that hunk of a man manages to look like a hurt puppy when sad.” Oh, you knew. You knew how he made himself small and it was downright tragic when he got upset. His blue eyes turned clearer, those pink lips plumped into a pout that made anyone pout too.

“He stayed around for a while, visited patients until we could let him know you were fine. I know we shouldn’t have- but he seemed so concerned. And that’s all we said.”

“It’s fine. We’re… friends.” You responded, shrugging as you wondered about the exact details of that night, they were a little blurry from after Lex Luthor started banging your head against the wall. You remembered the ring, his aggressive scowl, how when he spoke, he spit on you from the force. You remembered his face when Superman came in, annoyed but intimidated, how it felt when the let go of your head and somehow it felt worse. You remember Kal-el’s warm hands around you, how he flew you to get help. Not much more.

“Good friend to have around, huh? Not bad on the eye either.” You smiled and nodded, seeing another call from your father who had just left to go home after being with you those two days you were in observation. He was asking how you were and letting you know he got home well and started calling when the texts when unanswered.

“I’ll let you get that; I’ll be back soon. Don’t go sneaking any superheroes in here without inviting me, okay?” You laughed, shaking your head and instinctively grabbing onto the bag of your head like you were afraid something would spill out of there, not only medically, but the revelation that you weren’t too sure Superman wouldn’t burst in here. You didn’t know where you two stood now, if he had come here and stayed as a concerned friend or if he finally cracked in the whole façade he was putting up with you. Where he acted like you were just a fun friend and not the first person to taste his lips, to see the heartbreak in his eyes nothing could fix.

“I’ll be back every hour, okay? And if you don’t answer the door, I’ll kick out down or something, okay? Don’t play.” You laughed and nodded, feeling Beetle cuddle into your chest. Winston nodded, ruffling your hair before leaving to his own apartment. You hummed, looking out into the window of what seemed like a beautiful, cold day. If you looked further and focused, you’d see a red cape flowing in the wind atop of the apartment building in front of yours. He stood there, listening closely to your heartbeat and honestly, spiralling. Superman only reacted when he went home after being told you’d be fine. He replayed the events in his head as he brushed his teeth, how he was stupidly at the Daily Planet helping Lois cram into a piece when he heard it, the first Superman. His head shot up, but he guessed you were simple talking about him, so he just blushed and tried to ignore it. The second one was breathier, his eyebrows already joining together, Lois could tell something was going on, she twisted her head as she watched him.

“I can- I hear her. She’s- I think she’s calling for me. What if she’s in trouble?” He mumbled, hands going to loosen his tie. He was already standing up when Lois said “hurry”, Clark running out of the building at the speed of light. He arrived to see what he had always feared, he got you into trouble. You were on Lex’s radar now, he had gotten to you. Lex’s veins were throbbing out of his head in anger as you stared right at him defiantly, blood dripping down your chin like it was the paint you always smeared, and it wasn’t affecting you at all. He knew you were acting; your heartbeat was fast and there was a slight tremor in your words Lex would be able to hear if he stopped thinking about himself for a second. The rest was the easy part, getting Lex off you and out into the street, smashing into him when he said, “that bitch had it coming, don’t know what you see in her”. Flying you away was harder, because he was petrified. He knew you’d be fine, you had to be, but it was messing with his head that he had been careful all these years and as soon as he was sort of back in your life. That’s when you said it. You called him Clark. Twice. He didn’t react because, hell, that was his name after all. But you weren’t supposed to know that. His mind ignored it only later did he remember, did he notice what it actually entailed. You knew.

It was as good of a time as any and he desperately wanted to see you up close and examine if he had actually ruined your life by walking you home a couple of times in a week. He hovered down slowly, appearing in your window and knocking softly, gaining your attention from your phone. You smiled and nodded, giving him the go ahead to come in. He landed gently on your balcony, sliding the door open and walking in. He hadn’t actually been in here before, just the balcony, and your apartment just screamed you. You had so much art, plants. Pictures of your family, of Beetle. A framed picture of your mother on the mantel with a candle in front of it. It was full of live and most importantly, full of you. Clark walked into your room as you sat up slowly, Beetle jumping up for attention.

“Can I-“ He pointed to the chair in front of your bed, where you usually put the clothes, you were too lazy to wash right away. Your father had very kindly cleaned your apartment before leaving though, so there was space for him to seat his huge self. You nodded, your dog coming back to rest between your legs after getting his greetings in.

“How are you? Stupid question, I know, but-“

“I’m good. Nothing hurts. I’m fine overall, just a couple more days of rest and cleaning the wound.” You spoke softly, like you were afraid of him feeling responsible for what happened. After all, you were the one who baited Lex and kept on toying with him, resulting in his uproar of violence.

“Okay, good. Do you- remember what happened?”

“I do- most of it.” He nodded, hands clasping together and he laid his chin on top of them.

“What did Lex want?”

“To know how I knew you. Your identity. I just said I didn’t know and he, well- he didn’t like that.” Clark nodded, knee shaking as he tapped his foot rapidly against the door. You knew that habit, it was the nervousness of wanting to spit something out.

“But- but you do know.” He said, almost in a whisper. Your breath hitched slightly, like he had caught you in something. Did he know that you knew? That’s when you remembered your words I was actually really scared, Clark’. In your losing moments, you couldn’t keep the act up.

“I mean, yeah.” He sighed, head dropping between his shoulders.

“How did you?”

“I’m not stupid, you know?” You responded.

“I’m not saying that. I just thought I’d gotten older and and- I have these glasses now that change my face but of course, you knew me before the glasses. I’m an idiot.”

“Not gonna fight you on that.” You shrugged, a smirk spreading your face at Clark’s rambling. He laughed bitterly, shaking his head in disbelief at himself.

“How would I not recognize you, Clark?” This you whispered, resting your head back onto the bed. You didn’t know how to feel, what to say. It was good to have it out the open, of course, it meant you two could just talk like what you were: two people who had known each other very deeply once and now didn’t know where you stood, how you were back into each other’s lives in an unusual way.

“I know. I know. I just- gosh, I didn’t know what to do. You were in trouble and the public persona kicked in. Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why did you pretend? I thought you just didn’t want me to recognize you.”

“I didn’t want to- I panicked. I hadn’t seen you in so long, I didn’t know you were in Metropolis- I searched for you for so long. And then here you were- still so beautiful and brave.” You sat back up, pulling your legs into yourself and he stood up, started pacing around the room, “I thought it was better to not say anything, but I couldn’t keep away from you. I had to keep seeing you and I wanted to know you now- this you.” You nodded, looking out the window.

“What- are you actually not from here?”

“No- my Ma and Pa found me in their field. I was the meteor- well, in it- sort of.”

“And these powers, you’ve always had them?”

“Not all of them, some came later.” You took in the information, seeing Clark was seemingly ready to let all of it out.

“When we were together- did you know all this?”

“Yeah, I was mostly coming into myself during those years.”

“S’ that why you were so secretive?”

“Yeah, some powers were appearing out of nowhere and I didn’t know when or where- so I just, rather be home in case.” Clark said, now stood still and looking outside the window too, like it was easier not to look you in the face.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve kept your secret.” This made him turn around, seeing how your face had fallen somewhere between sorrow and confusion, squinting at him as if you were trying to see him without all the costume and persona and just see Clark.

“I know you would’ve. I just- I was an alien with superpowers, but I just wanted to be a normal kid and I was with you- y’ know? We had fun and a real, human relationship. If I told you, it would change everything and I was so afraid. I thought it was too much.” You stayed quiet for a minute; eyes still stuck on him like it would it easier. You did have fun, lots of it. And it was real, as real as it could get in high school. It was all-consuming and sticky with affection and promises, an obsession that was unavoidable at that age. Clark wanted to be with you all the time, he wanted the low points and the high ones, when you were scared and sad, happy and calm. He was excited for all of it. You felt all fuzzy and weird when you realized how good it was at times, like you couldn’t believe how young it happened. He wanted to be yours, experience your life with you. You did too, but Clark never let you. He thought that courtesy wouldn’t be awarded to him, the comprehension and adjusting he was so willing to give. He didn’t deserve it; he couldn't burden you with it.

“Okay. I get it.”

“You do?”

“I just wished you loved me more to want to keep me. You just gave up.” You shrugged, Clark sighing.

“I loved you too much, I thought I’d be putting you in danger. You had already gone through so much, I didn’t want to make you sadder, and you deserved calm and secure and I couldn’t do that for you.”

“Clark, how do you think you leaving me felt? You were all I knew, you were family- you were home.”

“I felt the same, darling. You meant everything-“

“So, you started lying and disappearing and then you dumped me saying I wasn’t happy. I lost you too.”

“I know, I just thought-“ His hand found your arm like it did so many years ago, firm and trying to keep you from drifting away from him.

“About yourself. Didn’t let me make my own decisions.”

“You’d stick by me, because that’s you. You’re so noble and sweet-“

“Oh, fuck you. You think I could figure out what was right for me? I’m too weak and dopey for it-“

“No! Of course not, it was about me and putting you in danger and your mother-“

“You’re gonna use the mother card, Clark? Really?” The conversation was falling from his hands, like water he had planned to keep cupped between his palms, but it just fell on him and he didn’t have time to catch it.

“Your mom, she asked me to take care of you, to protect you- to be strong for you. I promised her I would.”

“Okay and you interpreted that as ‘Clarkie, honey, dump her already’?”

“I was protecting you- I didn’t know how to keep you in my life without putting you in danger and I promised I’d take care of you. You just got out of the hospital because Luthor came looking for you to get to me! It happened, what I knew would and I- it could’ve been so bad.” Clark trembled as he spoke, as if the sheer thought of you being worse off was terrifying because he stayed away for so long to avoid it and it just imploded on him. You sighed, pushing your hair softly out of your face and turning your body to look at him, one hand over his. You were less pissed than you were a second ago, you’d become a pro at calming down and placing yourself onto the other’s shoes. And you could see what he was saying. He looked up at you when you squeezed the hand. There it was: the fearful kid you once knew. Who would be too scared to pull onto a cow’s snout or terrified of putting his hands on you when it was clear he wanted to. Scared of what he could do, what it meant to be around him. Scared of not being human when there wasn’t anything more human than this. This feeling, the vulnerability, the regret.

“But it wasn’t. I decided to stick up for you even if Lex would get pissed and you got to me.”

“Yeah, but what if I didn’t get there on time or Luthor had been rougher-“ You groaned, bringing your hands to his cheeks to stop him from imagining every scenario where it could have gone wrong.

“Clark, Clark, listen. Everything could always be worse, okay? I could get cancer tomorrow, an earthquake could take down this building, someone could come with Kryptonite and kill you now. That doesn’t mean we don’t try- that we don’t live. We do it even if we’re scared, yeah? We fix it, we try to make the best of it- I would’ve been there for you, no matter what. You would’ve taken care of me- you always did.” He nodded, piercing blue eyes watching your face move like it was the only thing in the world right now.

“Yeah. I- didn’t think about it that way.”

“I know, fuck, Clark. You were young and had the weight of the world on your shoulders.” He sighed, head turning down and leaving your hands to stuff into his own, rubbing his face violently. You settled back onto your bended knees.

“Thank you.”

“Yeah.” Was all you responded. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, if you thought confronting Clark about this was going to make you feel better or let go. You sort of understood it now, it wasn’t all about you. Not all. But maybe if you had been better, more understanding, he would’ve felt more comfortable telling you. Maybe he really didn’t love you enough to stay and you could make peace with that.

“I- Lois told me you thought I never loved you. That I wanted to go off to college single.” You sighed, you knew Lois would probably leak some information into her co-worker after you first talked, she seemed really interested and defensive of him, like she knew something you didn’t.

“Yeah, well, it did cross my mind. I used to replay my steps and try to find what I did wrong but, you’re a man, after all.”

“Not really.”

“No, you are. In all manners concerning.” You motioned to him, like everything he was built off still represented a man who would lie, disappoint and be, well, a man. He let out an amused grin.

“It still really wasn’t about that. I didn’t ever stop thinking about you. I was actually pretty lonely and miserable most of college.”

“Well, you did dump me after we had sex. And always looked like it physically pained you to touch me below the waist. Thought maybe you didn’t find me… enticing enough.” He laughed, what a ridiculous thing to say.

“You threw axes in shorts and cowboy boots. You were too enticing.” That made you huff out a laugh.

“When I went as Princess Leia for Halloween and you still didn’t crack, well, I felt like the un-sexiest girl in the world. “ He gave you the sad, compassionate look you had warned him not to use on you. You’d let it slide this time.

“Hun, remember I took you home and in the truck we-“

“Yeah.”

“I cracked, all right. Right onto your dress.” You laughed, shaking your head while blush took over your face.

“But I- I thought you’d finally just… let loose. Touch me like you were dying to. Act like you couldn’t be a gentleman anymore.”

“Oh, I punched a whole into the truck when I got home. Remember I told you I hit another car? That car was my fist.” Clark laughed when you broke into a fit of giggles at the simple image taking over your brain, teenage Clark beating up his truck because he couldn't appreciate you the way he wanted to.

“I was dying to. I promise. I was just too afraid, I thought I’d scare you or seem like a pervert.”

“You wouldn’t have.” You whispered, still grinning at him. The air was much lighter now, like you could actually talk about what had happened all these years.

“Can I make you something to eat? We can talk some more.” You thought about it for a second before you nodded, taking his hand to stand up and lead him to the kitchen. This let him see the back of your head, stitches that adorned the part that had opened and the small bald spot around it. It scorned him, a lot, to see what his proximity to you had done on your body- it’d be marked to remember it. You didn’t see it like that, though. It was a mark that you were brave. You were fierce to protect the people you believed in; the people you loved even when they pushed you away. When things got rough when you were younger, all the cracks of light that peered through your window was Clark. He’d bring you a donut, tell you a story, sing you a poorly done cover of a song- he was the distraction when things got tough. You owed him to be there and understand when he couldn’t be that.

You sat on your couch, watching Clark move around and try to look for something to make you. Just then, a knock on your door. Had it been an hour or was Winston being annoying? You stood up, the barking dog standing in front of you as you cracked the door open slightly.

“I’m alive, dude.” You said that Winston frowned.

“Not funny. Let me check if you have a fever.” He put the back of his palm against your forehead and tried to turn on his father instincts to check.

“I don’t.” Just as you said it, clumsy Clark overtook and he dropped a pan, making the man at your door raise his eyebrows.

“Who’s in there?”

“None of your business.” You said defensively, trying to look relaxed and unassuming. You did not want him to know Superman was here, he’d come in to talk to him and then tease you relentlessly about it.

“Now you decide to break celibacy? Really?”

“I’m not- I’m gonna slam the door on your hand.”

“I’ll leave you alone, no hair pulling, though!” As soon as he stepped away and you closed the door, already growing embarrassed at the comments. Clark had a smirk on his face; he was shit at hiding it. 

“Stop smiling.”

“I thought you two were- y’ know?”

“Me and Wes? God, no. He’s- getting back out there after his divorce. Took him to a Halloween party with me, to like- get him back out there. Worked too fucking well.” Ah, so while Clark was busy trying not to whimper under the bass bouncing of the walls and ignore Lois’s judgemental look, just because some person grabbed you by the waist- Winston was busy with someone else.

“Oh, well, good for him.” Clark smiled confidently and your eyebrows pulled together, watching him put some butter onto a pan.

“Does it matter, though? If I’m with him?” He glanced at you, trying to look unbothered.

“I mean, you can do whatever you want. I just- rather not see you with anyone else.” Clark admitted and you smiled softly, like it made you happy.

“Okay. Well, I’m Miss Celibacy as you just heard so- not much to worry about.”

“Right.”

“What about you?” You tried to sound normal, not like you were going to vomit.

“Competing for that same title, actually.” He said, soothing the nausea immediately.

“Aren’t we a couple of losers.”

“We could change that.” He turned his head to the side, already mixing batter and you knew exactly what he was cooking up. Both literally and figuratively.

“Ah, what happened to gentleman Clark?”

“Still am. I want to take you to dinner first, buy you flowers.” You huffed, turning and seating back on the couch to hide the impressive display of teeth coming from your mouth at the mere thought. Clark Kent, taking you out with actual money, no curfew and at least 20 more pounds of muscle.

“So, what does this mean for us?” He asked, always wanting a label- a distinction.

“It means we’re thinking about what we want.” You shrugged. You weren’t going to commit to anything when there was still so much to think about, he still left you and broke your heart. He still hid so much from you. What if any inkling to try again was just nostalgia?

“I know what I want.”

“I know. You’ve had more time to think about it, though.”

“Okay, yeah. Sorry if I jumped to conclusions or anything. Let’s just… hang out and you can see what feels right to you.”

“You’ll still pay, right?”

“You keep looking at me weird. Is it the glasses?” Clark asked, one hand on your hip as he led you outside the restaurant. He did just as he said, after a week where you had time to heal and relax, he’d taken you out. Picked you up for dinner at 7pm sharp with a beautiful arrangement of flowers and an ill-fitting suit that took your breath away. You placed the flowers inside a vase, kissed his cheek and let him lead you away. Dinner was at a quiet, slightly fancy, Japanese place. It surprised you, since the Clark you knew thought tacos were as exotic as it got. This wasn’t the Clark you once knew, though. It was your first time seeing Metropolis Clark, who was a man of the city and had regular Lebanese restaurant. With the glasses and less of a midwestern accent. You liked him, he was more confident, more refined, still hunching to seem smaller and cordial, but more… himself.

“They do look different. I don’t know.” He nodded, subconsciously pushing them back up the bridge of his nose.

“They took some time to get used to. But I want to still… be Clark. Not just Superman.” You hummed, nodding as the shoes on your feet started to take their tax on you. You had chosen one of your nicer outfits, well, a long black dress and the blue shoes you had that night you met Superman, now blood-free with the help of cold water and shampoo.

“I get it, they look good.”

“You think?” He smirked, looking down at you and you rolled your eyes.

“Oh, c’mon. Can’t be the first time you heard that? The nerdy look works.”

“I am a nerd.”

“Exactly why it works. It’s genuine, and the muscles, shoulders, kind eyes- it all ties together.”

“Don’t say those things. We won’t make it to your apartment.” Clark pleaded, the hand on your hip pressing onto you like a warning- or a plea.

“You said yours was close by. Take me there instead.” You looked at him when you said it- smacking your glossy lips together in an act that would make him wither.

“Okay, yeah- you sure?” His free hand came towards your cheek, wiping a non-existent stain from it.

“You’re not gonna do this to me again, are you?” You gave him a look of a thousand excuses- he wants the perfect moment, doesn’t want to hurt you, it’s late, he’s not prepared. Like apparently many times, he thought he was doing right by you. He was actually just making you think he didn’t want you.

“No- no. I just want you to be sure. You said you wanted to think about it. About us. And you don’t need to hurry, at all. I’ll wait for the next time you want me.” Oh sweet, sweet Clark. Sometimes acted like sex couldn’t be just sex- it had to be making love. At least when it came to you. You had thought about it, though. With your therapist, your friends- even your dad. They all said to give him the opportunity, that you clearly wanted it just as much. You hadn’t stopped thinking about him all these years just as much as he hadn’t either.

“I did think about it. I’m sure.” You said, Clark slowly registering the words before a bright grin painted his face, eyes squinting and cheeks hurting from it.

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, fuck. I mean- gosh, great. Good. Okay.” He tried to collect his words, stop his arms from jumping up in victory in a cheesy, dramatic way. He was looking down at you like he couldn’t fucking believe it; his slow play had worked. Well, sort of. Needed a little hand from the universe but it worked, he managed to be honest and expressed what he really felt, and it paid off. It really, really did. You were giggling at his gleeful state, kissing the inner part of his wrist that was still on your face.

“Are you gonna kiss me now or?”

“Yes, of course-“ He cut himself off as he cradled your cheek sweetly and finally put his lips onto yours. He didn’t move for a second, just felt the tingles that were exploding on his mouth. His brain was fogging up in small flashes of lights, his eyes closed. He finally opened his mouth and took your lips into his, hand on your hip pulling you closer and molding your body against his. Your arms found refuge on his shoulders, squeezing affectionately as our lips moved together, a symphony of longing and satisfaction and excitement pouring out in the form of sharing germs.

“Take me home, Superman.” You whispered against his lips when you finally stopped for a breath of air, Clark nodded obediently and led you at a crazy speed the two blocks to his apartment, practically lifting you from your feet. You were at his in no time, guiding you towards the elevator that seemed to be taking forever in his humble opinion. You made the time easier, though, unbuttoning that sinful white shirt he had on as he rubbed your back and kissed you neck. His apartment was bigger than yours- smelled a little cleaner, looked a little tidier. He didn’t have a dog wreaking havoc, a tiny neighbour with no boundaries and well- you inside it.

“I’m gonna text Wes. Just a second.” You took off your coat and left the purse on the couch.

“Oh. Okay.” He said, trying not to sound disappointed as he removed his shoes. You glanced at him as you typed on your phone a check-in.

“I’m just letting him know I won’t be back tonight and to keep Beetle- unless you think I will?”

“No, you won’t. Not letting you out of my sight.” He reassured, smiling at you and you nodded, finishing the text before putting your phone down.

“Okay, then what’s with the pout? Is it because of Wes?” You pulled him closer to you, hands resting at his hips affectionately. He shrugged, making a face that tried to make it look like that was ridiculous.

“N-no.”

“So yes, what about him?” You were smirking, Clark was never a jealous man. Well, you were 18 and never really gave him a reason to be- but this was new territory he was terrible at hiding.

“He- he calls you sunshine.”

“And?”

“I called you- call you sunshine.” You broke into a grin, pulling him closer to you as you rested against the back of his couch.

“I think that time you met him was the only time he did. He was teasing me.”

“Oh.” He softened under your touch, red tinge on his cheeks as he realized how silly he was being.

“Yeah. You called me sunshine. I remember.”

“You do?”

“Of course, Clark. I like it.”

“Alright. Sunshine.” He repeated it and you giggled, bringing your hands to finish the last button of his shirt before pulling it off him. He was a stupid, offensive vision of manhood. Chest chiselled but not in an overworked way, pecs big like two pillows begging for you to sleep on them. A beautiful trail of hair was leading down his tummy to his hips, and you didn’t want to guess if it kept going. You needed to see it.

“Jesus, Clark. You’ve changed.” He chuckled, letting your run your fingertips down the swells of his chest with the softness no one else had for him. You treated him like he scared, like he fragile even when he really wasn’t.

“I’d hope so.” You laughed, watching as he knelt slightly to grab your thighs and pick you up, squeezing the fat just below your ass as he carried you to his bedroom. He dropped you softly on top of the bed, it was big and soft under you and told you it hadn’t seen much action or even long nights. He was always busy. You hoped to help him unwind a little.

“You’re so beautiful, baby. God, you get better by the hour. Look at you.” Clark grabbed onto your right foot, removing your shoes and placing a single kiss by your ankle before following along with the other. He took your left leg and started running his hot breath along the skin and upwards, the occasional kiss being placed as he moved closer.

“The dress is so pretty but it’s kind of getting in the way, right?” He asked as he reached the place where it had bundled up on your upper thigh when he pulled your legs up. You nodded, sitting up and pulling it off from your shoulders- he helped you with the actual work of taking it off completely from your body. His breath hitched inside his throat when he took in, just some thin underwear covering the apex of your thighs. He looked over all the skin, trying to identify ever scar, every freckle that was new. He took in the view, how fucking perfect it was and how it was waiting for him to do whatever he wanted to it. To worship it like it deserved, like he never let himself do before.

“Oh, lord. I remember these. Thought about them all the time.” You huffed as his hands cupped your breasts, thumb caressing your nipples to get them perky and firm for his dedicated mouth.

“Still the best.” He mumbled before falling to his knees between your legs on the bed and leaning down to take them into his mouth. He was greedy with it, constantly switching between kisses and nibbling on both of them, hands squeezing like the other would miss him if stayed away to long. He followed every bump, every detail on them with a precision that made you purr in delight and your underwear feel like a burden that was holding back the fountain he was creating. He left them when they were red and begging for a break, there was still so much to pay attention to. His mouth wandered down, open mouthed biting when he passed a new patch of skin and he reached your leftover clothes soon enough.

“Sunshine, can I?” Oh, that simply word was enough to open you like a gate, lifting your hips to help him pull your legs together and take them off, once again opening those legs that hid what he had to pretend for so long he wasn’t dying for. He pulled your legs to fold and give him a better view, two fingers moving towards your wet skin and press the lips apart, hissing as he took in the view like it was personally scaring him.

“Clark. Stop. You’re acting like I’m burning you again.” You tried to press your thighs together, embarrassing at the attention he was providing you weren’t sure was positive or if something was surprising or disturbing. He shook his head, hand steady at your thigh, harder than he’d ever held you and taking the other to force them open.

“Honey, it’s just… I thought about this so much, thought about you so much and now you’re here, naked, wet for me. It does hurt to think I didn’t appreciate you enough back then, never took the time to just… be present and not scared.” You sighed, a frown overtaking your face as he kept marking up invisible lines with his eyes of every cell that made you up.

“Okay, sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, honey. I’m sorry. I am. For everything.” He said softly, throat suddenly ticklish and heavy as he felt emotion overtaking him. Pure sorrowful regret- he had wasted so much time being afraid. So many opportunities. To think that every time he touched you, kissed you, looked at you, you never understood there was no one in the world that could love you more. You sat up, looking at him and pulled him down lower by his arms. You looked at him, seeing his blue eyes that had been dark with need just two minutes ago had gone back to watery blue.

“Clark- stop talking and feeling bad. Fix it. Live up to your words- show me it’ll be better.”  You were firm with your words; Clark nodded obediently like it had snapped him out of it- you were right. The opportunity to be the man you needed was at his reach and he needed to stop being a wuss. He kissed your cheek once before straightening back up and pulling your thighs apart once again, you let out a surprised gasp when he grabbed the part where your thighs met your hips and pushed it closer to him, to the edge. His hand was confident now when it met your pussy again, somehow even warmer and more direct. With his bottom lip sneaked between his teeth, he touched torturously slow on the flesh that was so glad for his visit. He avoided the parts where you needed him for a second, like he was trying to lock everything into his brain. He glanced at your face when he circled the ring of your entrance, dipping his finger to collect more of the wetness that was coming from you and spread it around messily. He finally gave in and pressed two fingers against your clit, your legs twitching inadvertedly. Clark pushed them apart and slightly squeezed; he could hear your pulse against them.

“So pretty, sunshine. Can’t tell you everything I want to do to you.” He whispered as he started pressing tight circles on you, finding the angle and speed you like the most by studying your beautiful face, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes stuck on the way his biceps moved with him. When he found it, the movement that made your hips buck against his hand, he abused it. You let out low mewls, you were never loud in bed, per say. Clark wanted to see if he could change that. One of your legs gave up from being bended and fell, along with your head, neck tired from bending to watch everything he was doing. When you got squirmy and your breath quicker, Clark stopped to edge it out a little. Your eyes opened and you sat up, crawling over to the edge of the bed and guiding his boxers down from his hips. Your mouth fell open, you’d only seen him covered by the darkness of a car or blinds- he had never been in front of you to look at.

“Did it- did you get bigger?” You asked, hand wrapping around the base to move him upwards slightly to see the length. He wasn’t this that time, right?

“Probably. Think I kept growing until like 20.” You nodded, he let you inspect it a little bit more with soft touches, he was fully erect even before, but this was somehow getting him like a brick, the fact that you were looking at him like he wasn’t real. You weren’t scared like some girls had been, you were in awe.

“Need to get you ready, baby.”

“I- I think I’m ready.” You said with a giggle, still looking at his cock as you now started to slide your hand up and down around him, watching his tip leak every time you got to the top.

“You-I haven’t even- let me touch you, please.”  He wasn’t strong enough to push you away from his cock, your ass in full display as your mouth got so desperately close to his cock. You didn’t answer, instead just started giving him little licks. You weren’t one to give out jobs of sorts during sex just because, you’d learned that you needed to make them earn it- Clark was simple calling to you like a siren call, clouding your mind and it all it said was that you wanted him all over your face. You took him in as much as you could, which to be honest wasn’t even half. It seemed to work on Clark though, he let his palm rest on the top of your head, the other hand clenching onto himself until his knuckles went white. You started bobbing your head with your hand stimulating what wasn’t covered by your hot, wet mouth. It made his blood rush down as the pleasure spread through his body.

“Hun, I won’t last. I’ll cum in your mouth if you keep going.” You glanced at him as you sucked on the end, holding him like a popsicle, tongue running over every drop of precum. It went on for another minute, Clark’s eyes red and open to the show unfolding in front of his eyes. You let him go with a pop, lips red and inflamed as you licked over them.

“I don’t mind.” You shrugged and gave him no time to answer before taking him in again, faster and more aggressive than before, squeezing a little tighter at the base. He let out a stuttered moan, weak under your hands. He nodded, letting his hips move along with you, pulling the cum out of his balls. He was right- he wouldn’t be long at all. You could tell, you remembered the signs of his high- eyes blinking fast as if he was taking photographs to save in his bread for lonely moments, hips searching for it with you and the smallest of whimpers blowing through his throat and out his lips.

“Gonna- gosh, baby, you’re so good at that. I’m-“ He didn’t finish as his head fell down, chin against his chest and he moved uncontrollably against you, drowning your mouth with his cum, falling from the sides and you tried to swallow what you could with out choking on it. He was majestic, there was something about him that made you feel so proud to be the one making him feel like this. You released him when he finally emptied his balls, cock falling down and you sat on your calves, catching your breath. His eyes finally opened when the  orgasm finally faded, immediately locating you as you cleaned the sides of your lips that were covered in the white, sticky substance. He pet your head softly, gaining your attention to look up at him.

“Good?”

“Amazing.” You smiled shyly, his hand moving lower. He wiped at the remaining cum that was covering your healed chin, his thumb removing the excess. He walked away for a second to get a towel and wet it slowly, to help you clean yourself and him, softly running it though your neck and face. He wiped the sides of himself for a second before putting the towel down, cracking his neck and stretching his arms.

“What are you doing? Preparing for a battle?” You teased; he guided you down on the bed as he climbed on top of you.

“Kinda is. You wanted to win, didn’t you?” You let out an amused huff, receiving his kiss with a smile because yeah, you absolutely wanted to make him cum first. It’s not your fault he was weak and slow; you came in like a tiger. Your grin wiped away when he deepened the kiss, now distracting you as he quickly moved your thighs further apart. His hand came to the joining, feeling around the wetness that overtook you.

“You’re all wet from sucking me off, huh? Too good to me.” Clark whispered against your cheek, looking down to see his fingers pull away and take a trail of slick with him, showing you just how wet you were. No warning, he returned to your pussy and shoved two fingers inside you, slowly until they were in up to the knuckles. He wasted no time, starting to thrust with detailed precision, every time pushing against that spongy spot before reaching your cervix, feeling you clench around his digits. The palm stayed pressed against your puffy clit, the perfect stimulation to make you loosen up completely. Your arms rested at his shoulders, entangling your fingers at his neck and reaching up to kiss his Adam’s apple.

“Pussy’s so warm, feels so good on my hand.” He complimented, looking up at your closed eyes and flushed face, keeping his movements constant and firm, palm grinding a little harder.

“Just like that, fuck.” He listened, kept the pressure and speed that seemed to be unwinding you beneath him. He had a shit eating grin, he was so fucking happy to have you under him withering, have you coming for him, to have you. It was erotic to see you like this after so many years, knowing how to use his powers for good and to make you feel good. He had so many tricks to show you, there wasn’t enough time in the world to do all he wanted.

“Gonna cum?” You nodded desperately, the pit on your stomach growing wider and more sensitive, begging to explode with every single touch. It came fast, gasping for air like you needed an extra help before your orgasm overtook you, body clenching and then falling loose as white took over your eyelids and all you could feel was him, him, him.

“Gosh, honey. Never seen anything prettier than this.” He removed his fingers from inside you and rested his hand against your thigh, the other hand coming to your face to pull the hair sticking to your skin with the help of sweat. Your eyes opened back up, inmediately seeing his face hovering yours watching you closely like you’d fade away.

“I’m here.”

“I know. Just can’t believe it.” He responded, pressing his forehead to yours. You stayed quiet for a second, also taking in the fact that Clark was here. He did miss you; he was sorry. He would find his way back. You kissed him quick, hugging him closer to you and letting him rest slightly on you. He was hard again like it was nothing and he pressed between your folds, giving you shivers.

“Want you.” You mumbled and he smiled, nodding. He settled between your legs, taking the hand that hand been inside you and licking his fingers clean eyes half closed and almost moaning at the taste of you. It was exquisite, he could already imagine all the nights he’d spend with his head between your thighs, on the bed, the table, the kitchen. He’d get down on his knees for you for just a little taste anywhere. He’d even do it right after fucking you right.

“Gonna be a stretch, baby.” He whispered, lining himself up and kissing you one last time before pushing in, seeing your back arch instantly with a satisfied smile like you’d been waiting ages to get filled by this, by him. You were opening around him beautifully, loosening until you fit him like a burning, intense glove.

“Yeah, good girl. Let me know.” You stayed still with the feeling for a second when he squeezed himself fully inside you, you could feel him in your throat. He was all consuming.

“Go.” You nodded and he smiled, fixing your thigh to the side for more space before pulling out and back in, both of you gasping at the feeling. There wasn’t an atom of each other untouched, unloved. No space for misunderstanding or doubt now that you were here. Clark set a pace, slow to get used to it, looking at your pussy gush around him and then at your face, who watched him carefully.

“You can let go now- you’re here. Don’t be afraid.” The encouragement would make him weep any other time, but this one just made himself pick up the pace, ploughing his cock inside you with no mercy. Your hips met and smacked together, the bed squeaking like it hadn’t seen this before. You hoped that, honestly. You couldn’t imagine not having him to yourself. He rested his forearms besides your head, lips interlocking in a messy meeting, you could barely call it kissing. This was the Clark you were creating, who fucked without worry and gave with no remorse.

“I’m here- I found you. I’m sorry I took so long to get here.”

"It's okay." You nodded, feeling him pull one leg over his shoulder to get a deeper angle.

"Did anyone else give it to you like this?"

"No- no. So good."

"You're mine. My girl"

"Just yours." The angle was driving you crazy, you couldn't tease him or say you had always been his whether he wanted it or not.

"Mine. My girl, this pussy's mine. You're mine." You nodded, tip hitting your g-spot with such dedication it was drawing tears from your eyes.

"I'm yours, Kent. Fuck me like I'm yours."

“What the fuck are you looking at?” You grumbled, trying to seat in another way to see if your whole body would stop aching. You’d never been sore like this before. He couldn’t take offense, only smiled. The pancakes were warm and he’d pulled out the chocolate sauce he saved for special occasion, knowing having you in his space would always be special.

“You’re here.” You rolled your eyes but didn’t hide the grin that appeared as he walked towards you.

“I know. I need to go get Beetle.”

“We’ll go get Beetle in a second, my love.” He cradled your cheeks, watching you lick your lips to clean yourself of any embarrassing stains of chocolate that may be on your face. There were at least two already on the shirt he had given you to sleep in.

“You’ve got some chocolate here.” Clark pressed his thumb below your lips and down to your chin, doing a terrible job at wiping and just spreading it around.

“Gonna have to lick it clean.” He teased, still holding your chin between his fingers.

“Seems so."

[theleavesofwesteros]

dawning paradise (Benedict Bridgerton x F!Wife!Reader)

A/N: yeah, I promised more stuff soon, but I lied again. NOT by choice, mind you. I wanted to have this posted the day before my birthday but that was already a month ago, and I didn't have any inspiration because of being overwhelmed/busy/tired/drained from lots of stuff. I kept trying to get going on this, but I only just managed to by scrapping my initial idea and going with a morning drabble of what being married to Benedict would be like (in my opinion). I truly hope to be back with more writing soon, when I'll hopefully be feeling more myself. Hope you are all well <3

thanks @cafekitsune for the divider, as alwaysss

You always found it rather easy to wake up before Benedict. In fact, it was quite a startling event in your household if you found him awake before you. Your husband just loved to sleep, it seemed. Maybe it was due to inspiration often striking him after supper and making him stay up later than you, or maybe it was the nightcaps he enjoyed taking part in. Either way, you were not one to complain, for his sleeping in gave you the delightful opportunity to admire him.

He had the sheets over his bare body (he'd taken to sleeping naked in the warmer months), yet his chest remained mostly uncovered. One of his arms was outstretched towards you, partly beneath your pillow, so you could lay your head atop it in sleep, and its position allowed for the morning light to shine onto it and illuminate the gentle spattering of freckles on it. You couldn't resist kissing his inner elbow. You found that any inch of his body, you wanted to grow intimately familiar with (and you already had). Over and over and over again until the very end of time.

Benedict stirred at the tender act of affection, letting out a small, questioning grunt before opening one eye. Hazel latched onto your face, and the confusion on his turned into soft-hearted happiness. 

"Mm, good morrow, my love." He spoke softly, voice beautifully deepened from his dreaming. 

You returned his smile, hand moving to move through his delightfully soft, chestnut hair. 

"Good morning to you, my snoring husband." 

He sat up immediately, properly startled awake.

"I contest that description, wife!" He said, his famous lopsided grin making its first appearance of the day all the while.

"Oh, but you truly did snore, my love. All night, like the boars you and your brothers love to hunt. Perhaps your nightcap affected you more than you expected." 

"My nightcap was nothing more than the usual cup of brandy and a cigar." 

"Mm, your affection for those vices blinds you." 

"My affection, is it? I entertain those vices, my love. My affections are all, without question, saved only for you, and your voice, and your delightful, mm, delightful body." 

You grinned, letting him move to you as he placed you on your back and he remained on his right side, bending lower so as to kiss your shoulder. 

"My delightful wife, how I have dreamed of you. It is a shame I woke, made only better by the fact that you are the one who woke me." 

"Lecherous man, tempting me with kisses and words in order to take advantage of me in bed." You accused him, unable to help your smile as he kissed up your neck just right. 

"You claim I am the cruel one here? Not you, never you, you nymph, for dressing in these fine shifts and kissing me awake?" He asked, sucking a tender bruise onto your pulse point. 

"I contest that claim, husband!" You announced, mirroring his earlier retort. 

He laughed at your cleverness with fondness, resting his forehead on your upper chest. 

"Ah... we have fun, my love, do we not?" He murmured, latching himself onto you and moving one leg between yours beneath the sheets. 

"I doubt anyone is as clever as us so as to engage in banter first thing in the morning." You agreed, letting a playful jest slip. 

"Yes, I do believe you are right. In fact..." He pushed the short sleeve of your nightgown down, "most couples use all of their energy first thing in the morning for..." He pushed it further down, enough to reveal the side of your breast before kissing it. "Mm... more base things." 

“And what if a married couple wakes up and finds they are in no mood for base activities?”

“Then… they are clearly badly matched for one another.” He decided easily, pulling a face of malcontent at the idea of such a couple.

“So you claim that having untoward intentions at first waking is a sign of a flourishing marriage?”

He pressed another kiss to your breast.

“Mmm… quite, wife.”

“Well, then I must admit that I woke up wishing for food, and not for your naked skin.” You said, looking at him with a dramatic wince.

He gasped immediately, eyebrows raising in absolute disbelief.

“You want for eggs and butter, and not for your husband’s very pert bottom?”

“My interest in your bottom might just grow if the eggs you mentioned are served upon it.”

He suddenly seemed quite pleased, a lopsided grin appearing on his face as moved to lay on his stomach.

“As you decree, my most favourite and beautiful Mrs. Bridgerton.” He said, moving the sheets lower down his body so as to expose his (truly delightful) behind. “I shall stay just so until breakfast is brought before you, my lady.”

“Have you been hiding experience in the opera from me, Benedict?” You grinned, moving to press your own kiss to his delightfully warm and freckled shoulder blade.

“Not at all, my darling, it is only my natural charm coming through in the early morning light.” He retorted, getting comfortable and folding his arms onto his pillow and laying his head on them.

You laid your head on his back, unable to resist the warmth and comfort of his bare skin, and the comforting feeling of muscles you had grown accustomed to over the course of your marriage.

“I love being married to you.” You whispered against his spine, the words blowing deeper into your bedroom along with the gentle summer breeze.

His head turned to the side, towards you, a tender smile on his face.

“So do I. You are the only reason I ever married, you know. No one else could have changed my view on matrimony. Only you, my Mrs. Bridgerton.”

You smiled, pressing your nose to his briefly, before pecking his lips.

“My Mr. Bridgerton.”

[hergurlc]

“You’re so beautiful. Everything I ever dreamed of. In my heart, you are my wife, I love you.”

Sophie reached up and touched his face.

“I have always loved you. I think I loved you before I even knew you.…you are the reason I exist, the very reason I was born.”

[Bridgerton] An Offer From A Gentleman

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[captainbucky-yt]

LUKE THOMPSON as Benedict Bridgerton and HANNAH NEW as Lady Tilley Arnold | S03E03 ‘Forces of Nature’

[badgirlsvevo]

Heat and Hunger [18+]

A/N: CLARK IN HEAT AHHHH CLARK BEING RAGEBAITED AHHHH PINCERS ARE BACK AHHHH

tags: clark kent in heat x reader ovulating (afab, no y/n), ragebaiter vs ragebaited, p w mild plot, clark loves boobies propaganda, p in v, PINCERS, breeding kink-ish, finish inside, praise, talks you through it, overstimulation

wc: 2.1k

[MASTERLIST]

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It was a rare occurrence for both of their cycles to coincide. But when they did, Clark was a mess and she was a menace. 

As soon as she got home from work, she knew she was in for a treat. The apartment was spotless. Not a thing out of place – the spices lined in alphabetical order, all her knick knacks ordered the way he knows she likes. He would deep clean to no tomorrow, under the off chance that it would distract him just enough. This quarterly perk was one of her favourite things about his biology. 

And from the look on her face, he knew he was in for a very long evening. 

“Hi…” He approaches her warily, leaning down for a quick peck before taking four steps back. 

A laugh bubbles up in her throat at how tight he’s wound up, looking physically pained. 

“Okay,” he frowns, heading towards the kitchen, “It’s really not that funny.” 

“It is a little,” she grins, following behind him, “And we could so easily take care of it if you just-”

Glancing over his shoulder to give her a pointed look, he flinches away from her fingers slipping under his shirt, “Absolutely not. You remember what happened last time, and I know you’re ovulating so it’s going to be even worse.” 

His senses made him so attuned to her body, she’d stopped questioning his random odd comments ages ago. 

“Worse?!” Her frown now matching his, she continues to prod at him. “Oh, so you don’t want me.” 

“I didn’t say that!” He guffaws, whipping around to look at her. 

Score.

“Yes, you did.” She ups the dramatics, knowing she’s getting to him, “You basically just said that sleeping with me is the worst thing ever, and you’d rather do anything but touch me, which is saying a lot since you’re literally in heat right now and-”

“Oh, come on!” The whine that leaves him sounds anguished and she has to do everything in her power to not laugh in his face again. 

“First of all,” he starts listing on his fingers while taking careful steps back, “Sleeping with you is the best thing ever. Second of all, there’s nothing I’d rather do than touch you. Third of all,” his cheeks flush a bright red at his last counterpoint – or at the fact that he’s now cornered by her, “I am not in heat, it just… happens sometimes.” 

She raises her brows, taking another step closer until she can feel the energy vibrating off him. 

“Right. And you’d rather suffer than just work through it the easy way out.” She sighs dramatically, shaking her head in disappointment, “All while making me suffer too. Depriving your poor girlfriend of her biological needs…” 

“That’s not fair, I-” he huffs defeatedly, looking her over. It’s obvious she’s playing it up, but he can feel her – can smell her. He knows she’s aching for him, and who is he to deprive her of that? 

“Sweetheart,” he takes a deep breath, “I think it’s obvious how much I want to as well, but you need to remember, once we start I won’t be able to stop. And last time-”

She raises her brows at him, encouraging him to continue as she folds her arms across her chest, “What was wrong with last time?” 

“Nothing!” His eyes widen, almost reaching forward to touch her before pulling back immediately. He can’t lose control while they’re still having this conversation. “Absolutely nothing was wrong, but I think you’re forgetting you slept for nearly fourteen hours after.” 

“Well, good thing it’s a Friday night and we have no plans for tomorrow,” turning around to leave the kitchen, she starts heading towards their bedroom. “Anyway, forget it. I’ll just take care of myself.” 

“Wait, what?” He blinks in confusion, immediately following behind her as if he’s tied to her by a tightrope. 

Wordlessly taking her clothes off, she slips into the bed before reaching for the bottom drawer of their bedside table. 

“That’s not funny.” He’s trying his best to be stern, but the coil that’s about to snap in him makes his voice shake. 

“Hm?” She looks up at him as she reaches for a toy – the pink vibrator he’d gifted her with flushed cheeks just months ago, “What’s not funny?”

“This!” He waves around vaguely, stepping closer to the bed. 

A faint buzz, muted under the sheets, fills the room. 

“Oh, I totally agree with you, baby,” she purrs softly as her legs spread with a quiet rustle. “There is nothing funny about this at a– ah!” Gasping as the vibrations finally meet her core. 

“Alright, that’s enough.” 

Before she can blink, the covers have been ripped off the bed, her grasp empty of what was there – leaving her bare in front of him.

Her initial shock is quick to fade, grinning up at him as he climbs on top of her. 

He’s entirely wrecked. Body trembling, sweat beading at his temples, muscles taut against his shirt. And she’s having the time of her life seeing him like this. 

“Honey,” he mutters through gritted teeth.

“Hm?”

“I need you to stop looking so amused, and promise that you’ll tell me if you’re hurting or need a break.” 

Her eyes soften as she nods, “I will. But, now, can you please stop putting yourself through this torture ritu-”

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, his lips swallow the rest of her sentence. Hand cupping her jaw as his tongue carefully finds its way in, his fingers card through her hair. His grip is gentle, but firm, as if trying to make sure she won’t slip away at any unsuspecting moment. 

The hunger coursing through his body is palpable, and hers is on par. She pries at the buttons of his shirt, struggling to focus on the task while he starts kissing his way down her neck. Huffing in frustration, she tugs hard enough for a few buttons to scatter to the floor, pushing the collar and sleeves back until he rips it off himself. His pants and briefs are next to go, wincing when he finally feels her skin on his.

He’s quick to move down her body, his kisses and nibbles leaving a wet trail until he comes back to her breasts, groaning as his lips wrap around her nipple. She never believes him but he swears she tastes sweeter – everywhere – during this part of her cycle. Or perhaps it’s just his craving for her going into overdrive. 

She can tell he’s trying his best to hold back and take his time with her, wanting to be as gentle and thoughtful as he always is. But this is not the time for that. 

“Clark,” she squeezes his arm gently to get his attention, gasping as his hand slips between them to give careful attention to her clit. 

He hums absentmindedly, body quivering under restraint as he tries to distract himself in her pleasure. 

“Clark.” She repeats, her voice firm, making him snap out of it and look back up at her. His eyes are wild, frantic, chest heaving for air as he drowns in all-consuming thoughts of her, her, her. 

“Yes. Sorry, yes,” his voice is shaky, hands subconsciously moving to her hips in a firm grip, “I’m still here.”

Frowning slightly, her fingers move to the nape of his neck to pull him down for a kiss. “You don’t need to be,” she mumbles against his lips, already breathless from how quick he’s deepened it, “You don’t need to hold back, I can handle it. I want you to use me.” 

He pulls back suddenly, brows furrowing the same way they do every time they have this conversation. Before he can open his mouth with another warning or reminder, she interrupts him. 

“I need you to use me,” she purrs, “Don’t you want to fill me with your seed, Kal?”

That’s all it takes for him to forget any and all semblance of control. His mouth is back on her, his hand gripping his cock for dear life as he drags it along her folds. The slick of her arousal easily coats his length and he’s not surprised – he could smell it as soon as she stepped through the door. 

Her breath hitches as he brushes the head against her clit, before drawing it down to her entrance. He grunts as he nudges through the tight barrier, taking a sharp breath before breaching her in one push, his fingers bruising into her hips.

The bed creaks under them, his head dropping to hers in the momentary relief of finally being connected to her. His hips are flush against hers, but he’s so big he still barely fits. He hears her wince through the haze of his heat, searching her eyes as she clamps around him. The shaky breath that leaves her fills him with a brief cloud of worry, until she gives him a small nod and he’s reminded she can take it, can take him – and wants to. 

He pulls out entirely, before shoving himself back inside of her. The sudden stretch makes her cry out, eyes rolling back from the combination of pain and pleasure. Her hands move to his arms, nails digging into his biceps as he pistons in and out of her. Withdrawing almost entirely every time, leaving just the thick head of his cock inside of her, a desperate slew of whimpers slip out of his mouth once he’s surrounded by her again. 

The pressure against her cervix has her flashing back to the last time she had him on top of her like this, the memory making her walls flutter around him as her legs spread wider. He whimpers as he hits deeper, his hips stuttering as his first release pumps deep into her. She moans at feeling so full, her hips rolling up to chase his next rut. 

He’s barely drained himself before he’s back to speed, no sign of wanting to leave her empty and barren. Each thrust molds her around him, the curve of his cock catching on her G-spot at every return. He starts grinding down, wanting to feel as close to her as possible, his pelvis rubbing her clit. After all, on Krypton, women’s pleasure was monumental in having the seed stick.

The headboard hits the wall in tandem with her mewls as she starts convulsing around him, her first orgasm hitting like a freight train after waiting all day to get him. She pulls him to a new depth, milking his second climax with ease. The veins on his neck pop out as he lowers his head, capturing her lips in a bruising kiss, ruthless in his momentum. 

Five rounds in, he’s barely broken a sweat and her entire body is flushed, her cunt sore and leaking the mixture of their releases from being too full. Her neck is covered in bite marks, the impenetrable skin of his biceps in faint claw marks. Trailing hasty kisses down to her breasts, his lips latch onto her nipple, his hand leaving her hip to enclose around the other one. He hums at her thighs shaking as he sucks harder, his grasp squeezing and tightening on the tissue. 

She sobs from the overstimulation, his thrusts unrelenting. “Breathe for me, sweetheart,” he grits out, his voice hoarse around the swollen bud. Gasping for air, she weakly meets his advancements, somehow still wanting more of him. 

“That’s it,” he preens, “One more. Then we can take a break and start again, yeah?”

She whines at the prospect, nodding eagerly when she finally starts to feel the slow protraction of his pincers. The additional grip on her walls triggers his last load – for the moment – shooting endless ropes of his cum to pool in her core. A strangled moan escapes her when his fingers glide between them to find her clit, urging her to lock him in. She babbles nonsense as she crashes over the edge for the nth time, clawing at him as he continues to pump his seed deeper in her even with the pincers keeping him in place. 

Slowly fading out of the fog, he gently brushes the damp hair off her forehead, leaning down to place soft kisses all over her face before landing on her lips.

“So pretty like this,” he murmurs, “Did so good for me, pretty girl.”

Kissing him back lazily, she smiles against his lips, 

“Told you I could handle it.”

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[fayes-fics]

Mrs Bridgerton ✨Masterpost✨

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Series of fics that feature Benedict and his ex-wife reuniting and falling in love again

Rating: 18+ smut, minors DNI

Status: In Progress

I realised I frequently refer to the Mrs Bridgerton universe but didn’t have a masterpost for it. So here it is.

Mrs Bridgerton Your ex-husband craves you in a way you had no idea about until one fateful call…

Mrs Bridgerton Again This is what happened in those eventful 8 months after being reunited.

Becoming Mrs Bridgerton in planning Prequel. The memorable night they met....

One-shots set in this universe:

Tied Up (aka Kinktober: Benedict + Bondage) Set a number of years after Mrs Bridgerton Again. Benedict has been tied up by your kids, and who wouldn't take advantage of that?

Gif credit to @eleanor-bradstreet

[inkdrinkerworld]

Clark’s been upset with you for the last hour and has taken to staring at you as you eat the pho he’d brought home with him. 

“I’m really sorry, Clark.” You say quietly as you start your bowl. He stands and walks to your fridge, when he comes back it’s with your brand new bottle of insulin and your meter. 

He hasn’t said anything since he brought the bottle and your dinner home. Too worked up and too upset to say anything calmly. He rarely gets this upset with you, so it stings your heart when he doesn’t maintain eye contact with you. 

He lifts your shirt sleeve and kisses your arm before wiping it clean. 

“Deep breath,” he murmurs and you do. You know the drill, you’ve known the drill for years. When it’s clicked into place he finally gives you his full attention. 

“You scared me, angel.” His voice is so soft that you can’t help bursting into tears. 

“I’m really sorry Clark,” you sob, hiding your face in your palms. 

You hadn’t really even realised you’d been out of insulin till you’d been at work and then your meter failed and there wasn’t much else that could be done. 

You hadn’t had any insulin in your office fridge, and you hadn’t been paid to buy your new bottles or meter. 

By the time you made it home you’d been drinking water nonestop and your vision was so blurry your eyes just watered. By the time Clark made it to your house the first time, you were surrounded by water bottles and he’d smelt the sugar on your breath the second he’d made it close enough to you and his heart had pummeled when he’d tested your blood and found you at the low end of 300. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“It’s not worth the hassle,” you’d responded and that had been when he’d walked out. 

There might have been a misuse of the Superman costume and name, but by the time he’d gotten your insulin and made you eat the meat from the pho first and then have the broth. 

Now it’ll come down and you’ll be right as rain. 

“Honey girl,” he scoops you up, your head on his shoulder. “I shouldn’t have been so upset with you.” He murmurs as your cries worsen. 

“I should’ve messaged about my insulin,” you hiccup. “You were right, that’s important.” 

He doesn’t say much, just rubs your back as you cry and your shoulders shake. 

When you calm down some, he pulls you out of the book you’ve made for yourself in his neck. 

“It is important, you being healthy is so important to me, angel. I understand that it’s hard for you to ask for help, but I want you to tell me what you need, not just what you think is okay to ask for okay?” 

He tips your chin back, looks you in the eye and says, “I want you to ask things of me. I want to do everything you ask, and I want to get you things you need and want. Please don’t think that you’re not worth the hassle again.” 

You nod, eyes bloodshot and you’re exhausted now for a bunch of different reasons. 

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper, eyes shutting slowly. “I’m really sorry I scared you and that I said that. Wasn’t fair at all.” 

Clark tuts and kisses your forehead, “It’s all forgiven, honey girl. Do you think you can manage another forkful of my beef and broccoli?” 

You manage it for him, because you both sort of know you’re full up. But you’d do anything to not have to see Clark look at you like you’d ripped his heart out again. 

an: based off the tweet post I shared a couple hours ago

[danitecx]

Superman Has a Crush

Clark Kent x female reader

Sinopsis: You discovered Clark Kent's biggest secret long before he ever confessed it. But being Superman isn't what surprises you most. It's the fact that the strongest man in the world completely falls apart whenever you're around.

Warnings: Romance, Humor, Established Relationship, Slice of Life, Domestic Fluff

WC: 5,200 words approx.

You knew Clark had a secret. One that was very big and very precious to him. In fact, you had known it long before you officially started dating him, long before he even dared to ask you out for coffee without his hands trembling as if he were holding a bomb ready to explode.

You worked at the Planet as a photographer. And you were far too observant. It wasn't something you could help. You had a separate website, a small corner of the internet where you uploaded your favorite photographs, the ones that told a story beyond what could be seen at first glance. You had won awards through the Planet and as an independent photographer as well. It was a gift, something that came naturally from deep within you, and you loved it. You didn't just take pictures—you looked at them, studied them, searched for their meaning, for the impact they could have on whoever saw them. To you, every photograph was a frozen piece of history.

That was how it happened, in such a simple way that it almost felt like a joke from fate. You had been taking pictures around work in silence, as you always did. One day, you captured Lois tilting her head while reading an interesting article. The light from the window hit her hair perfectly, making her look like she belonged on the cover of an old magazine worthy of being framed. You uploaded the picture to your website with her permission, and it gained a few new followers. It was beautiful, yes, but it also said something: "Look, this woman is thinking, and she cares about what she's reading."

Later, you took a photo of Jimmy. He was studying what shot to take next, his camera pressed against his face as though it were a part of him. You had captured a photographer in the middle of doing what he loved, and the image conveyed the passion shining in his eyes. He looked at the scene with the excitement of someone who truly loved his work, just moments away from lifting the camera to take the shot. You uploaded that photo too. And just like those, there were many others you kept to yourself like private treasures, while some you shared with the world.

Clark wasn't really into photography. Or rather, he wasn't fond of posing for it. But you loved taking pictures of him when he wasn't paying attention. You photographed him smiling at Cat's little dog, the one she sometimes brought to the office wrapped in a pink blanket. Clark would instantly turn into a child, crouching down and speaking to it in a cartoonish voice. You also captured him once staring at his sandwich as if it were the most beautiful thing in the world. His eyes were wide behind his glasses, and he looked as though he'd never seen ham and cheese between two slices of bread before. It was ridiculous, but adorable.

Among all those pictures, there was one where the main focus was Perry speaking in front of the interns. It was the kind of formal photo that would later be displayed as part of the Planet's history. You took several shots to make sure at least one turned out perfectly. But in one of them, Clark was looking around as if he were searching for something. In another, he was taking off his glasses. Your eyes widened when you looked at the next one: in that photo, he was staring straight ahead with a completely different expression. He didn't seem aware of the camera at all. He was focused, but not on Perry. He was listening to something far away, something no one else could hear.

And that was when you discovered it.

The rest is history, as they say. But what nobody told you before you started dating Clark was that beyond being a hero, he was a man hopelessly in love. Ridiculously in love. The kind of man who would trip over his own feet just because you looked at him. Robert from meteorology thought Clark was obsessed with you. One day, he even said it in the break room.

"That guy looks at her like she's about to disappear."

And maybe humans weren't ready to see how a Kryptonian loved. Humans were used to loving for a little while. Some—only a handful—might love their partners until death did them part. But there was always someone looking elsewhere, always an "I'll call you later" that never came. Clark heard it over and over again with his super hearing. Every night, he listened to hearts breaking all across the city. But he never feared that with you. Maybe because you loved with the same intensity he did. And for a man who could fly, that was stronger than gravity.

And Clark's love extended all the way to Superman.

Literally.

Superman—the serious, kind, funny superhero who always maintained the image of a dependable hero—completely fell apart around you. He became a mess. You knew it because it was absolutely delightful to watch whenever you had the chance. It made you laugh inside to see the Man of Steel turn into jelly simply because you were nearby.

One day, Superman had just rescued a little girl who had climbed onto a building under construction. People crowded around him immediately.

"I'm glad you're all safe," Superman said in his strong, steady voice while holding the little girl with a level of care that seemed impossible for a man so large.

The crowd surrounded him gratefully. Some older men patted him on the back. A woman cried from relief and excitement. Superman nodded seriously, as though it were just another ordinary day. He radiated confidence simply by standing there.

Then his eyes met yours.

You were standing toward the back, your camera hanging around your neck, simply watching. You hadn't taken a single picture of the scene. You preferred seeing it with your own eyes.

Superman's cheeks turned red.

You smiled at him, and he swallowed hard.

It was the kind of dry swallow that could probably be heard three blocks away.

He almost took a step toward you, but people were still surrounding him, waiting for more heroic words.

"Uh... well..." he said, letting out a nervous laugh.

Everyone looked at him strangely.

It was normal for Superman to speak.

It was not normal for Superman to smile like a little boy who had just been handed a cake.

His nervousness did not go unnoticed.

He huffed softly and nearly shifted his hips in embarrassment, like a flirtatious duck who didn't realize he was being flirtatious.

Your lovestruck man became nervous simply because your eyes were on him.

"I... I'll make sure everything stays under control," he finally said, carefully setting the little girl down.

You stepped a little closer, just to make him suffer a tiny bit more.

Superman turned even redder than an apple.

"Hello, Superman," you said with a smile.

"H-hello," he replied, and his voice cracked as though he were going through puberty all over again.

He cleared his throat and looked toward the sky as if searching for an excuse to fly away.

"Nice rescue," you said, crossing your arms. "The little girl was really scared."

"Y-yeah... yeah, honestly..." He rubbed the back of his neck, something Clark did all the time. "She... well, she was in a dangerous place. And I... I saw her. And I thought... I have to help her."

And that wasn't all.

He had always tried not to let people see just how in love he was.

Superman, Clark, or both of them with you.

Because if you were Clark's girlfriend and someone saw Superman looking at you with those abandoned-puppy eyes, people would get the wrong idea. It would look like cheating. People would think you were betraying your boyfriend with the most famous hero in the world.

And of course, that couldn't happen.

Clark knew that.

But Clark was weak when it came to his woman.

Weak.

Weak.

Weak.

Like a chocolate cake sitting in front of a child.

Like that time there was a fire in an apartment building on the north side of the city.

Superman arrived, as always, flying faster than lightning. He put out the flames with his super breath, rescued three people from the fifth floor.

Very heroic.

Very professional.

People applauded.

Reporters took pictures.

And then he saw you in the crowd.

You had only come to see if anyone needed help because that was just who you were—always looking out for others.

But the moment your eyes met his, Superman froze in midair.

Literally.

Floating there like a balloon someone forgot to let go of.

One of the firefighters shouted, "Everything okay?"

And Superman could only manage, "Y-yes, yes, everything's fine. I'm just... checking... the clouds."

There wasn't a single cloud in the sky.

It was a completely clear day.

He slowly floated down.

Far too slowly.

As if he wanted to stretch out every second he got to look at you.

His feet touched the ground, and he started walking toward you, but his legs looked like jelly.

He tripped.

Yes.

Superman tripped over a hose.

A hose.

The guy who could lift a building with one hand nearly fell flat on his back because of a garden hose.

A little boy looked up at him and asked, "Did you get hurt?"

And Superman replied, "No, no. I was... testing the ground. It's solid. Very solid. Good ground."

You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

"Superman," you said with a smile, "good job with the fire."

"Thank you," he replied, and his voice sounded slightly higher than usual.

He cleared his throat.

"I'm glad that... that you're okay. I mean, that you're here. Not that there's a fire. That's bad. But you... you're okay. Are you okay?"

"I wasn't even in the fire, Superman, but I'm fine," you answered.

"Good," he said.

And then he just stared at you.

Without saying anything.

Just staring.

Five seconds passed.

Ten.

One of the firefighters had to tap him on the shoulder to tell him there was a column of smoke a block away.

Superman blinked as if he had just woken up from a dream, nodded very seriously, and flew away in a perfectly straight line.

That was how he gave himself away.

Because you didn't look at Superman.

To you, he was still Clark, no matter how hard he tried.

No matter how tight the suit was.

No matter how dramatically the red cape billowed in the wind.

No matter how much he tried to use that deep, confident voice that ended up quoted in every newspaper.

You looked at him and only saw the clumsy guy who got tangled in the cords of his own cape, the one whose glasses slipped off every time you laughed too hard.

He could fly faster than a speeding bullet.

But around you, he moved as if his feet were glued to the floor with school glue.

That night, he flew up to the window of your apartment.

It wasn't the first time, of course.

But that night, you were in the kitchen, wearing an apron and covered in flour because you were making dinner.

The window made that familiar little sound, that soft clack that happened whenever Clark misjudged his speed and bumped his shoulders against the frame.

You heard the scrape of his cape against the glass and smiled without turning around.

"Miss, are you busy?" Clark's voice asked.

But it wasn't Clark's voice.

It was his Superman voice—deeper, firmer.

Like he was auditioning for an action movie.

You turned around, pausing your cooking.

You had a wooden spoon in one hand and a bit of sauce on your cheek.

You smiled and frowned slightly when you saw him standing in the window frame with his arms crossed and his legs spread apart, trying to look imposing.

His red boots gleamed beneath the kitchen lights.

His cape fluttered dramatically behind him because he kept shifting one shoulder to make it look like there was wind.

It was quite a show.

"Why didn't you come through the door, Superman?" you asked, raising an eyebrow as you set the spoon down on a plate.

Clark sighed as though he didn't want to break character.

He was trying.

He really was.

His jaw was clenched, and his gaze was fixed on a point somewhere behind your shoulder, as if he were watching an invisible threat.

But his eyes moved around too quickly, and his cheeks were already starting to turn pink.

You could see it perfectly.

He was trying with all his might, but the way your eyes lit up when you looked at him completely ruined all of his effort.

"I... the window... I can fly," he said.

And his voice cracked a little at the end.

You laughed.

You couldn't help it.

It was too funny seeing Superman explain why he'd entered through the window as though he were a lost pizza delivery guy.

"No... I'm trying, sweetheart," he said with an enormous pout, dropping his arms and letting his shoulders sag.

He looked like a child who had just been told there would be no dessert.

You smiled wider and nodded, walking over to him.

"You're doing great, honey," you said before wrapping your arms around him.

His suit was softer than it looked in pictures.

And he smelled like the sky, as always.

Like that clean air above the clouds.

You rested your cheek against his chest and felt his heart racing.

Fast.

Very fast.

As if he had just finished running a marathon.

"Is there a reason for all this?" you asked, pulling back slightly so you could look him in the eyes.

Clark immediately became nervous.

He ran a hand through his hair.

His hands went to his hips.

Then behind his back.

Then back to his hips.

He had no idea what to do with them.

Eventually he crossed them over his chest, but he looked so uncomfortable that it seemed physically painful.

He tried to put on one of those serious expressions that ended up in newspapers whenever he saved a building.

He pressed his lips together.

Furrowed his brow.

Hardened his gaze.

But his eyes couldn't stay still.

Every few seconds they drifted back to you and softened like a puppy begging for food.

"I read that women are attracted to men who show confidence," he began, swallowing hard.

He tried to keep a serious face, but his lower lip trembled slightly.

He bit it so you wouldn't notice, which only made it seem as though he was concentrating very hard on a complicated problem.

"And men who..." he continued.

Then he looked at you again, and his gaze immediately slipped away.

He was turning red as a tomato.

He clenched his jaw to look more intimidating, but his puffed cheeks made him resemble an angry hamster.

"Very strong men and..." his voice grew smaller, "...also... cold."

He practically whispered the last word.

The blush had spread all the way from his cheeks to his ears.

His ears.

His ears had turned red.

You didn't even know ears could get that red.

He tried to recover his composure.

He straightened his back.

Lifted his chin.

Put his hands on his hips again.

But his cape had gotten caught on the window frame.

When he stepped forward, the cape tugged backward and nearly knocked him flat onto his back.

He did an awkward little hop to regain his balance, his arms flailing in a strange motion as though he were swimming through the air.

Then he froze, eyes wide, pretending none of that had happened.

He coughed a couple of times and crossed his arms again.

Except this time they were crossed backward, like he was hugging himself.

When he noticed, he uncrossed them and tried again.

Then he didn't know what to do with his head, so he tilted it slightly to the side like he was posing for a statue.

He looked so stiff he resembled a cardboard cutout.

"Where did you read that?" you asked, taking another step closer.

You took the grocery bag from his hands—the same bag he'd been clutching the entire time as though it were a life raft.

You stood there with your arms crossed, waiting.

"In The Latest Things You Need to Know About Women," Clark said.

One foot slid backward.

The other moved forward.

It looked like he was secretly practicing a dance routine.

He tried to stand still to appear more confident, but his feet seemed to have a life of their own.

"Steve emailed it to me this morning. He said I needed it."

He attempted a serious smile.

Instead, it came out as a strange expression halfway between a smile and a grimace, as though he'd suddenly gotten a cramp in his cheek.

He remembered what had happened earlier that morning at the office.

Steve had walked up behind him while Clark stared at a photo of you taped beside his computer.

"Buddy, you need this," Steve had said with a rabbit-like grin.

Clark had opened the link and read things like "women want a man who doesn't show emotions" and "don't smile too much, it makes you look weak."

Since then, he'd been practicing in front of the mirror.

He had even put on the Superman suit because he thought it would make him seem more authoritative.

Nothing could have been further from the truth.

"That website was written by a man, Clark," you said, brushing your fingertips against his suit.

The red-and-blue suit that had saved the world dozens of times.

And there he was, shifting from side to side as though he were standing on hot coals, his fists clenched behind his back and his gaze fixed on the floor.

He tried once more to look serious.

He furrowed his brow so hard wrinkles appeared on his forehead.

Pressed his lips together until they became a thin line.

But then you smiled.

Just a little.

And all that seriousness melted away like ice cream under the sun.

His entire face softened.

His eyes turned gentle again.

With a defeated sigh, he let his shoulders drop.

"I'm not saying men can't understand us, but most of them don't," you added.

And he nodded like a puppy being told why he wasn't allowed to eat chocolate.

"I like you the way you are, Clark. You don't need to change," you said softly.

You stepped a little closer.

He immediately stopped moving altogether, as if someone had pressed a pause button.

"It's cute seeing you get nervous even while wearing the suit," you said as you looked down into the grocery bag.

Bread.

Lettuce.

Cheese.

Everything was there.

Except for one thing.

"I don't get nervous," he said.

His voice came out high-pitched.

Almost squeaky.

He tried to look serious again, but one eyebrow had started twitching uncontrollably.

He touched it with a finger to stop it.

Then the other eyebrow started twitching.

It looked like a tiny storm was happening on his face.

You looked at him.

His cheeks were so red that it looked as though he'd spent an hour standing directly beneath the sun.

"You forgot the tomato sauce, Clark," you said, lifting the empty bag that should have contained the jar.

He smiled.

A huge, awkward smile.

The kind a child gives after accidentally breaking a vase and hoping to be rewarded for admitting it.

Every trace of seriousness vanished instantly.

His entire face lit up.

His eyes squinted from smiling so hard.

"Yeah... I... uh... forgot it," he admitted, scratching the back of his neck with one giant hand.

You laughed and nodded.

Because you already knew exactly how this story ended.

"I have to go get it, don't I?" he asked.

You nodded.

"Okay," Clark said.

His eyes immediately lit up as though you'd just given him the best news in the world.

"Can I buy those Japanese mochi I showed you at the store the other day?" he asked, rocking back and forth on his feet like he was about to take off.

Literally.

"The soft ones with sugar inside. The pink ones," he added, unable to stop a small excited bounce.

"They're the sweetest ones, sweetheart. You're going to love them."

"Yes, but only one box, Clark," you said, raising a finger in warning.

"Do you remember what happened when you ate two entire boxes last time? I don't want to see you flying around the world five times in a row because of a sugar rush you couldn't control."

You said it completely seriously.

Very seriously.

Because he had literally done exactly that the week before.

He had flown from Metropolis to Japan in three seconds, bought the mochi—even though they were sold five blocks from your apartment—and eaten an entire box on the way home.

When he arrived, his pupils were so wide he looked like an excited owl.

Then he'd eaten the second box and taken off flying again because:

"Sweetheart, I feel like I can touch the stars with my fingers."

"Okay," Clark said.

Then he leaned down and kissed you.

It was a soft kiss.

Quick.

Nervous.

He smiled against your lips and whispered,

"I promise I won't buy two boxes."

You smiled and nodded.

His promise was worth less than the paper it wasn't written on.

But you still liked hearing him say it.

When you pulled apart, he looked at you as he backed away toward the door.

He walked backward with a level of clumsiness that seemed impossible for a man who could catch an airplane out of the sky.

His hand waved from side to side in farewell, fluttering like a little flag in the wind.

And the smile never left his face.

He was so nervous.

So excited about going to buy the mochi.

His feet practically carried him toward the exit on their own.

"Sweetheart, you're not actually going in your suit, are you?" you asked, resting a hand on your hip.

Clark took three steps outside the apartment.

Then four.

Then he stopped dead in his tracks.

He looked down at himself.

Touched his chest.

Looked at his cape.

Looked at his boots.

As if he had only just realized he was dressed in bright blue and red with a giant emblem on his chest.

His eyes widened.

"Right... the suit," he muttered to himself, blushing all over again.

At that point, you weren't sure if his cheeks would ever return to their normal color.

He spun around so quickly that he nearly got tangled in his own cape and fell flat on his face.

Then he hurried back into the apartment, cheeks burning and eyes wide.

"I'd be a complete failure on that website," he said as he walked toward the bedroom, dragging his feet as though he were wearing oversized slippers.

"If I go to the store looking like this, Steve was right. I don't know anything about women," he muttered to himself, his voice full of concern.

You laughed.

A laugh that filled the entire kitchen.

"And don't fly out the window again!" you called after him from the kitchen.

"The door, sweetheart, I promise!" he shouted back from the bedroom.

A loud thud echoed through the apartment.

Something hit the floor.

Then came an "I'm okay!" that sounded far more annoyed than convincing.

A few seconds later, Clark emerged from the bedroom wearing his normal clothes.

His jeans were slightly crooked.

His shirt was buttoned wrong.

And his hair was a complete mess.

He smiled sheepishly and pointed toward the door.

"Okay, now I'm really going," he said.

He took one step.

Then turned around again.

"The pink mochi, right?" he asked.

"Yes, Clark. The pink ones," you replied, shaking your head with a smile.

"Just one box," he said, holding up a finger.

"That's what you said last time."

"This time I mean it," he replied.

And before you could answer, he walked out the door like a normal person.

Even though it was painfully obvious he wanted to fly instead.

You remained in the kitchen, wooden spoon still in hand, laughing to yourself.

And you thought that you wouldn't trade that lovestruck fool for anything in the world.

Not even if he came with a cape and all.

General tags: @hecticspice @garci7 @luftmenzch @rubixgsworld @sullyosully @purple-soldier @bulkanim @mangowhim @tvgirllover7 @jarnesbames108 @iangelofmusic @thychuvaluswife @justnori @aileen1237@sullyosully@3-smi @thebumbqueen @oceansstone @patroclusindeath @lockedlongings @wuluhwuhmaster @clarks-honey @mayflwrz@lunaryoongie@hikari-michiko

[quiteamessbabes]

masterlist

fluff: (F)

angst: (A)

smut: (S)

suggestive : (SG)

sensitive topics (ST)

don’t be afraid to request! i’m always looking for specific info or situations (like reader’s job or personality)

Clark Kent:

Series: Sporty Spice

Sporty Spice / (F) (SG) a new sportswriter comes to the daily planet Clark loses his girlfriend's dog / (F) clark gets distracted defending his girl and loses her dog Hat trick / (F) (S) clark is commited on showing his girl he loves all of her Navy skirt / (S) (F) clark buys back that skirt he likes so much. Jealous of the tv / (S) Clark would be damned if his girl would rather watch a game than pay attention to him.

Series: ‘Tis the damn season

'Tis the damn season / (A) (F) (SG) You and Clark reunite every year for the holidays and you always wonder. Every second counts - ‘Tis the damn season part 2 / (A) (S) (ST) When talking to your friends, again, you wonder, what if? Friends / (A) (S) (F) friends don’t kiss me like you do. Only know how / (S) (F) Clark's good with his hands and he knows what he wants.

Series: Online dirtiness (S)

Running into your coworker Clark on omegle (request) Alternative to part 1 where you don't stop (request) Taking it further

One shots:

Superstar / (F) (A) (SG)

insecurity about not being enough for each other

Night in / (F) (S)

spending a night in loving on each other

still here / (F) (ST)

request/ clark’s with you through sickness and health

sidelines / (F) (ST) (SG)

had nothing to prove, until you came into my life. gave me something to loose.

Miss me / (A) (S)

rather than wait for your flaky boyfriend to get you off, you take manners into your own hands.

I can't die, my girlfriend will kill me / (F) (ST)

Superman needs to be strong, if not for himself, then for his girl.

wedding bell blues / (F) (A) (SG)

Please, marry me, Bill. I got the wedding bell blues. Or: why won't Clark Kent propose already?

white dresses & heat / (S) (F) (A)

You go visit Ma and Pa for spring break and wonder if after giving birth Clark still finds you attractive.

just like before / (A) (F) (SG)

Clark “accidentally” runs into his ex and takes the opportunity to make amends. based on igual que ayer by los enanitos verdes and start over by 5SOS

not leaving / (S) (A)

Request / Clark tries to break up with you and you're not having it.

flu-ish / (F) (S)

Clark is sick and oh so needy.

red dress / (F) (S) (ST)

Request / Clark Kent loves women. Big, small, medium. But big, big was his expertise. He was made for them.

sexy to someone / (F) (S)

your roommate will not let you fool yourself into believing no one wants you, even if it means eviction. Based on sexy to someone by clairo.

Ideas or in the works (mostly for myself):

unbearably white / (A) COMING SOON

“Baby, I love you. But that’s not enough.”

favourite / (F) (A) COMING SOON

don’t let your boyfriend ruin your favorite song!

lucky / (S) (F) (A) COMING SOON

when you’re lucky to have him, you start to wonder if it’s really just luck.

you are in love / (F) (SG) COMING SOON

you can hear it in the silence, you can feel it on the way home, you can see it with the light out.

Crema de estrellas / (SG) (F) COMING SOON

[quiteamessbabes]

white dresses & heat

You go visit Ma and Pa for spring break and wonder if after giving birth Clark still finds you attractive

Clark Kent x Female Reader

word count: 6k

content: MDNI (18+) Sex in a field hellooo, unprotected piv (tsk don't do this), fingering (fem recieving), masturbation (male), insecurities, Ma and Pa are the sweetest, reader is family oriented and lives with sister (not self-serving at all lol), they have a six-month-old baby girl, reader is an academic and professor, Beetle shout out (any time the reader has a dog i name him Beetle lol), possible wrong portrial of pregnancy idk the only pregnant person i've been around was my aunt

a/n: hiiiiiii i loved this idea i hope it's well-executed. i was working on it a while ago and i saw a video interview of the latest superman actor and got the ICK so bad lol so i lowkey stopped but i went back to tom welling in my mind who i know nothing about in real life so! either way, thank you for taking the time to read my work, i really appreciate it!

———————————————————-

A beautiful baby. A precious bundle of joy. Six months. Half a year, you’ll blink and you’ll be dealing with homework. You’ll be dealing with periods. You’ll be dealing with the “I hate you mom” and the “I rather be with my friends”. You’ll be dealing with the horrendous parts of being a girl, being a woman. Your beautiful baby girl is a girl. Who knows what she’ll be, who she’ll be. How her dad being Kryptonian will affect her. What you know for sure is it will be hard.

But right now she’s here, still tiny and still in awe of everything. Still giggling at the dog and trying to hug him. Still making grabby hands at her dad. Still needs to be wrapped up in your t-shirt when mom’s gone. So you could breathe, it was fine. She was fine.

“Would you look at that! She loves the cows!” Martha Kent cooed as Clark carried his daughter in his arms and showed around the field where he’d grown up. It was her first time here, since you’d been scared of the car ride here, but Clark was great and careful, and it went without an issue. Your daughter stayed in awe of the animals under her tiny bucket that your dad had gotten her, obviously one branding your family’s sports team badge. He designated her the cutest hooligan out there.

“Alright there, honey?” You looked up from the image of sunny domesticity as Jonathan sat next to you, with a big sigh of relief on the porch seat. You nodded, a little hot under your sweater but you still did not feel ready to be in a summery dress or a thin t-shirt. You still looked like your body had held life within it, like a little parasite with her daddy’s blue eyes had taken everything she could from you and you’d let her. It didn’t help that your fiancé seemed to be taking into fatherhood like he had trained for it all his life. He looked divine, happy and glowing and his new little accessory strapped between his arms was better than anything money could buy.

Your little Marcy (Marcela, for your aunt) was a surprise. A product of the heated session after Clark had proposed in which you two forgot about everything and anything outside each other and just made love (if you would ever call sex that, it would be for this time). You were petrified and ghosted Clark for a full day, easy since you didn’t live together yet. You were having a hard time moving out from your sister’s house, since you’d lived with her forever and your mom was two blocks away. Your sister stayed with you that day, you both called in sick and spent the day in an awkward silence while you avoided the three positive pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter. You finally talked about it in the afternoon, sitting together on your couch and she let you cry about being scared.

Clark came over at 8 pm, worried sick you hadn’t returned any of his texts even though he could still feel your heartbeat from far away, so he knew you were safe. You showed him the three positive sticks and he stayed quiet for a minute, as if you would suddenly say it was a prank.

“How do you feel about it?” He asked, careful and poignant with his reaction as you sat on your bed, chewing on your nails. You shrugged and he kneeled in front of you, taking your hands into his. “Well what are you leaning on? Give me percentages.” You two always did that when you were unsure, took it towards statistics and even created pie charts between laughing about taking a weekend trip or even lunch. “Uh twenty percent no. Thirty percent yes. And fifty percent scared shitless.” Clark laughed, kissing your hands. “We can work with that.” “What about you?” Clark hummed as if he was once again thinking of the right thing to say. “My love, you’re what matters right now. It’s your body.” You smiled, you knew that. “But like, how do you feel about the- uh the pregnancy?” “Uh… let’s say, fifty percent worried about you, fifty percent yes.” You whined, hugging him into your chest. You had talked about having kids, but you had agreed you wouldn’t even consider it until you finished your PhD. Well, you had just finished it and were weeks away from starting a new job at Metropolis University. Your dream job. Fuck, will they take back the offer? Will they throw you out once you have it? “Really? You’re not even mildly scared about parenthood?” “I mean, maybe but if it’s with you then I know we’ll figure it out. We always do when we’re together.” You started crying, so intensely overwhelmed you had forgotten Clark was perfect with his words and would be the voice of reason when you couldn’t be. He cooed at you, his hands finding your back as he rubbed circles on your skin. “Let it out, princess. I got you, I’m here.” You laughed suddenly, pulling away to look at him and press your hands on his cheeks. He was oddly serene, like he had already seen the future and it looked fine. “I’m fine, it’s fine. You’re right. We’ll figure it out. God, you’re gonna be such a great father, baby.” He laughed, kissing your lips. “So, we’re having a baby?” He whispered and you nodded, a big smile taking over his face. He kissed your lips once more, before a few tears started to pour down his face. He wiped them quickly before pulling you into his arms again, a small nervous laughter on both your mouths. “We’re having a baby!” Your sister yelled, barging into the room with sparkling grape juice and a face that showed no remorse for spying on your very important private conversation.

Clark gave up his apartment and you two moved in a block between your sister and your mother. Your pregnancy was easier than expected, not that it was easy but since the fetus growing inside you was half Kryptonian, you really thought you’d have at it like Bella in Twilight and would have to drink blood or get flown to another planet. It wasn’t particularly weird, besides the fact that the only way your baby would find relief and stop kicking and giving you a hard time was when you placed her under the sun. When the sun got rarer during winter, you bought an incubator light for reptiles and hatching eggs and placed it over your belly.

And there was your baby girl, feeding off the sun like some sort of cuter Timothy Green and just like her daddy, growing stronger everyday.

“So, your pa went home already?”

“Yes, couple weeks ago. Couldn’t really take off from work longer.” You answered, Jonathan nodding.

“Clark’s being good, right? He’s been helping and taking care of the baby?” You smiled at the question, it was so humane and sweet that he worried if his son was acting like the man he was raised to be.

“He is, he’s great. He takes most nights since he doesn’t need much sleep. I take care of it when he has something to do.” You responded, even though you always stayed awake too, Clark was the one that cradled the baby and fed her when you couldn’t. He was Superman, for God’s sake. You were wondering if she preferred him, if she knew he was the superhero of Metropolis.

“And with you? He’s taking care of you too, right?” Your mouth went dry, not expecting the question. Besides your mother, everyone in your life only thought about the baby. Baby this, baby that. Your mother was the one who had been helping you, specially with all the hard parts. She helped you wash your sheets when they were bloodied from your postpartum discharge, she made you superfood soups from home that were full of vitamins and protein and needed to be pressure cooked for a whole afternoon. So Jon, being as sweet as he was, he was still a man. It was a surprise he thought of it

“Y’know Ma didn’t go through the whole physical part of having Clark, but my mother’s pregnancies were always hard and lonely and she had some… y’know, problems. I just want to make sure he ain’t leaving you alone, still being your partner. When he’s not superman and super dad.” You could cry. You always realized why Clark came out the way he did when you talked to his father, he was quiet but so thoughtful. You still didn’t answer though, because Clark was so dead set on being a parent he kind of had been neglected you. You knew you’d probably been neglecting him too, so you’d never complain.

“Y’know, he ain’t too old for a good smack.” That made you laugh, the idea of his father laying a hand on Clark was so unbelievable you could only giggle.

“He’s been good, yeah.”

“Sure?” You took the cup of sweet tea you had been sipping on and hid back the fact that you were a terrible liar.

“Mhm.”

“That’s it, princess. Nice and sweet.” You mumbled as she slowly tried to pet a cow, your dog jumping up and down to try and get a rise of the cow. The cow remained completely unamused. Marcy giggled at Beetle’s antics and you couldn’t help but giggle too.

“Okay, c’mon, Jane Goodall. Let’s look for shade because I do not want to discover if you sunburn.” You carried her softly through the field, kissing her small cheeks. Beetle started running back to the house like he understood the assignment. You had caved at the Saturday sun and put on a white summer dress on, the heat being too much. It wasn’t much, mostly a medieval milk maiden-like look your grandmother got you a couple years ago since she was sure Metropolis was a beach town for some unknown reason.

You couldn’t hear Clark like he could hear you, so you couldn’t notice how his leg hadn’t stopped bouncing for the last ten minutes and how he was breathing like he’d just been on a marathon. He couldn’t help himself, really. He’d been so controlled the last year or so, but something about seeing you here, so maternal and ethereal under the sun of his childhood house, being so nice to his parents even when they were borderline intense and kept calling the baby Marcelline, being so sweet to the animals, being so you, it was like lightning straight through his body.

And that dress, that gosh darned dress, it could probably stop a war. You looked like a dream, he could see your figure underneath the fabric with the help of the midday sun; the curves that had always been able to make him submissive and lovesick had been intensified, your breasts enlarged and full of milk and the marks of the miracle that your body had performed now adorned your stomach and thighs and Clark wanted to kiss every single stretch. You looked beautiful, you were beautiful and you had worn the pregnancy and motherhood so, so gracefully. Glowing and sweet.

You two had been intimate a couple of times since Marcy was born and your body had the time to heal, but it was a quickie while your mother took her to the park or real slow on the couch when she napped in the other room. He hadn’t been able to treat you like you deserved, like he used to before when you’d spend hours tangled in sheets that had to be washed after, and he couldn’t bring himself to ask for it since the last thing he wanted to do was make you feel like you needed to take care of him too. He was petrified of pressuring you, of making you feel overwhelmed or tired. He wanted to leave everything at your speed, your rules. He’d rather die than make you feel uncomfortable and you looked so relaxed right now, so serene.

Clark could feel the intense pressure of his erection against the denim on his jeans and he knew if he didn’t take care of it soon, he’d have a horribly uncomfortable moment with his parents when they came to call him for lunch.

“Gonna shower!” Clark yelled, running into the house fast and flying up the stairs, literally, to get into his room his quickly enough. He gave you one last look from his window, your baby on the floor on top a checkered blanket while you braided your hair. Have you always looked so divine while doing that?

He got into the shower, should’ve been cold but he was a wimp so it was actually lukewarm. He rested his forehead against the cold tiles as he immediately wrapped his hand around his cock. He closed his eyes, his eyes playing the image of you like the prettiest movie not even Chloe Zhao could concoct.

His thumb rubbed over the precum dripping from him before starting to rub himself up and down. He was fast, desperate because he didn’t want to leave you while he fooled around in the shower thinking up some porno for the ages with you as the star. You pulling that dress up and letting him dip his head under the skirt and push your panties to the side, licking you so well you’d let out that little mewl he loved. You laying on that field with him over you making all the corn around shake because he was giving it to you that good. You behind that big tree next to the barn, your ass shaking with your front pressed to the tree and his hands around your hips, well, one hand because the other needed to protect your beautiful face from the hard bark of the tree.

He didn’t notice he left the door semi open and didn’t notice you had waltzed into the room to get your hair oil so your hair that was just now recovering from pregnancy looked lively. You saw him, his hand furiously fisting his cock as the water fell on his hair and his mouth open.

Your heart skipped a beat for all the wrong reasons. Your man liked to take his sweet time with everything and here he was, working at himself like he couldn’t resist it any longer. What had gotten him like this? And why weren’t you worth a comment? A look. To even try and flirt with you, get you alone just for a second.

You knew things had changed; your relationship had changed, your body had changed, you had changed. But you didn’t know that that meant that the father of your child would rather get himself off roughly than… talk to you. Touch you. Ask you. The man who asked you to marry him and got you pregnant in the spam of the same four hours, wouldn’t even fuck you now. You bit your cheek to stop the tears because the rational part of you knew you were probably being dramatic. But you were emotional and overwhelmed and somehow also lonely. And your beautiful boyfriend who you would be more than happy to get off didn’t even consider you. You quickly walked back down the stairs and joined Martha in the kitchen.

“You okay, darlin’?” She noticed your evident frown and red flushed cheeks because even if it had made you confused and hurt, seeing Clark like that still bothered you in more intimate ways.

“Yeah, fine. Just hot. Can I help you with anything?”

“Sure, you wanna take the biscuits?”

“You made biscuits?” You asked lowly, because it was your hyper fixation during the pregnancy and you mostly liked how Martha did them. You tried biscuits with just about anything, jam, chocolate, butter, curry, stew, a big pot of Bosch, with some spicy peanut sauce, you thought it worked particularly well with cheese and guava inside it warmed up. The nice woman from the soul food restaurant three blocks down indulged you every week and gave you other things that were supposed to help you, however you suspect the chess pie she snuck into your orders was just for your soul. Your village was composed of women, your mother, your sister, Martha, your best friend, the lady who fed you, your obgyn. Even Lois, who you always suspected behind all the banter had a thing for Clark, had focused on you. She helped you put on a belly band and helped you send work emails while she told you about her dating life as a way to make you feel like a friend rather than a mom.

“Of course, sweetie. You love them; I made them. You are family, you know that.” You nodded and hugged her, a surprised laugh coming from her mouth as she hugged you back. You found comfort in the fact that she still liked you even if Clark maybe didn’t anymore.

“C’mon, get Marcy and let’s eat!”

“Ma and Pa took Marcy on a walk. Think they wanna show her off to all the neighbors so they’ll probably be back… Monday?” Clark said as he sat next to you on the porch swing, you gave him a short, amused huff and pushed your reading glasses up your face.

“Where did they-“

“Back door. They know not to let anyone pick her up or kiss her. Don’t worry.” You nodded then, giving him a closed lip smile and going back to the manuscript in your hands. Clark placed one hand on your thigh tentatively, keeping it there as he looked out at the afternoon sun that only looked this good in country side. You softly crossed your legs closer to you, his hand falling off your body as you curled into yourself. Okay, there was something wrong. He thought he may have been crazy but you avoided his kiss after lunch and had told him to care for Marcy while you worked for a little while even though you loved reading to the baby and called her your editor-in-chief. So, he knew it was code for ‘leave me alone’.

You were reading a student’s manuscript she was debating on sending into a publishing house and trusted you, her favorite teacher, to give her the go ahead. As a literature teacher you were always being asked to read students’ work and you always did, you loved your students and reading; what could be more wonderful than that?

“Any good?” Clark asked, turning to look at you finally.

“Yeah, needs some editing but it’s beautiful, it’s a beautiful portrait of womanhood and loneliness. She’s great.” You answered, trying not to sound cold or mean because you didn’t want to. You didn’t get why your mind had been racing or why you suddenly felt like a shell of yourself.

“That’s nice.” You hummed in response wrote something at the footnotes of the page- ‘this is beautiful. Explore this thought further.’

“Are- are you upset? Did I make you mad? Were my parents-“

“Your parents are lovely, Clark.” You responded, he visibly winced at you use of ‘Clark’. Not like you always called him, with tenderness and love. No pet names.

“Do you still want to get married?” You suddenly asked, Clark’s eyebrows immediately raised as he fully turned his body towards you.

“What? Of course I do.”

“Well, you’ve barely mentioned it since Marcy was born.”

“You said you wanted to wait a little until everything’s settled! I was looking at venues, I even took that Superman sponsorship to save more money.” He defended himself, because if there was something that got him on edge was you doubting his love for you. You put the manuscript on the table as Beetle, your little bodyguard, jumped up on you and looked at Clark with warning.

“I’m so, so in. I would marry you right now, my love. We can go down to the courthouse on Monday, look for a pastor tomorrow. I love you, I love everything about you, I love your crazy dog, the way you hum in your sleep, I love the life we have created together. C’mon. Tell me you know that, that you’re still in this too.” Clark begged, begged you to believe him even though he was confused as to where this was coming from. Had he given any signs of not loving you anymore? Had he been neglecting you? It terrified him to his core.

“I’m still in. I just- I don’t know. It kind of feels like you’re more a father than you’re my boyfriend right now, which is crazy, I know, because the biggest gift you can give me is loving our child. I just- I feel like you don’t necessarily want me. Like you’re in because I’m the mother of your child and this is the life you wanted. Not because it’s me.” You tried to articulate your feelings, petting your dog’s soft fur that you now noticed was wet so he was surely doing something he shouldn’t be down at the pond. Clark’s face softened, one hand on your face as he pet your cheek.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry if I made you feel that way. Gosh, honey, I feel horrible. Why do you think that?” Clark needed to know what he was doing and you looked like he had just put a gun to your head. You looked into his eyes and saw he didn’t look annoyed, he was mostly worried, so you digressed.

“I-I just, I don’t know. I was just thinking and we’ve not really paid attention to us. Like no dates and we’ve barely had sex and I know I may not be attractive but-“

“What?” It was high pitched and came out of a confused face, like it was personally offensive to him you thought that.

“Let me finish-“ he motioned for you to continue, “but I’m still here and I just feel like I’m worth some attention. And you won’t even touch me or kiss me like you want to take it further so I feel like an ugly ogre that’s just a mom now. I’m sorry I know I sound crazy because we’re both tired and busy. I just- I don’t know.” You finally breathed out what you wanted to say and Clark came closer to you when Beetle ran off to chase a bug. He put his hands on your legs, licking his lips as he watched you with careful eyes.

“Baby, I want you. So bad. All the time. We’re just so busy and I don’t want to like ask or start anything because I don’t want you to feel like you need to deal with me being horny on top of everything else. I don’t want you to feel pressured, so I’ve just been waiting for you to initiate. But, darling, my God do I want you.” Clark ranted as he tried to explain his feelings, pushing a hair that had fell loose from your braid away from your face. He came up to kiss you, giving you a second to pull away but you didn’t, so he continued and finally pressed his lips to yours, soft at first but soon opened your mouth with the help of his tongue, pushing your legs apart so he could scooch even closer. He kissed you like he had been waiting to do this, which he had, like you were water in the driest desert that housed his unrestrained desires. You kissed as the final minutes of sun kissed your skins, your body warm and tingly all over from the mixture of your man finally being unafraid. You two pulled away for a breath, you catched yours as he kissed your face around your lips, his body trying to trap you closer to his.

“So why wouldn’t you ask me, y’know, earlier?”

“Ask you what?” He mumbled as he kissed down to your neck.

“I saw you in the shower.” Clark’s mouth fell open, a little red blush taking over at the revelation. He didn’t mind, of course, but he just realized anyone else could have seen him. So thank god it was you. He looked up at you and sighed.

“Oh, baby, it’s just I got really heated and I didn’t want to bother you.” You frowned a little but nodded, kissing him again.

“But what got you so worked up?”

“Well, you.”

“Pf, why?” Clark shrunk his eyes at you to try and figure out if you actually didn’t know what you were doing to him. You actually seemed clueless and amused as if Clark was being ridiculous for being attracted to you.

“My love, I’d have you in a garbage bag but this dress and you under the sun… Fuck. You’re the mother of my child, you’re gonna marry me. And you’re gorgeous and you’ve worn all of this so well and you glow, honey. You’re glowing and I want to do everything to you. I’m so lucky, darling.” Clark said as he kept his eyes trained on your face as you took in his words, suddenly becoming a little shy as if it hadn’t occurred to you that he may want you.

“Really, this dress?” You mumbled as you looked down at the attire and Clark chuckled.

“Yes. You look… like the flashback of a dead wife in some movie. Just so, so beautiful.” You giggled, looking back at him and kissing his cheek.

“My parents will be gone for a while. Let me show you how much I like it.” He muttered suddenly and you took longer nodding than Clark picking you up bridal style, making you yelp, Clark running up into the house starting to go up the stairs, thinking about throwing you onto the bed of his room. He had a king sized bed, he worked all summer for it and c’mon, he’s huge, his parents didn’t need much convincing. However, he knew what he wanted, so he took you to the back out to the field by the pond, grabbing the checkered blanket and placing it down before guiding you to lay down on it. It was a mess of tongues and kisses when he leaned down over you, only stopping to take off his t shirt and throw it far away, hearing Beetle run towards it out of nowhere.

You giggled as he came back down, his smile taking over as he heard you before starting to kiss down your body too.

“Can I take it off?” He asked, peering at you with those eyes all hungry and full of need. You nodded and kneeled on the floor to remove the dress, Clark’s breath hitching. You were wearing a normal bra with some boy shorts but God, thank whoever was up there blessing him with you. The wildflowers growing around the place made you a Monet painting, so damn beautiful among the nature with everything you had went through the last year, you only seemed one with the planet. So human, so divine. His mouth followed a line down your body, soft and humid as his hands pressed the sides of your waist, so gentle you could almost miss it if you weren’t so far gone.

“Beautiful, darlin’. I want all of you.”

“Then have me. What are you waiting for, baby?”

“We’re in a field, I haven’t been able to take my time with you in a long time.” He refused, continuing his slow torture of worship. Clark was a lover, he liked paying attention to everything he could. His mouth was getting needier though as he came up to your breasts, so full and sweet, he brought one hand up to take them out of the cups of your bra, a new one since breastfeeding had swollen your chest, leaving kisses all over them. He suckled one of your nipples into his mouth, a soft sigh leaving your mouth as if you were relieved at the feeling of his wet tongue doing small, soft licks on the bud. One hand came up to the back of his head, petting him softly to encourage him to go further, go harder. Clark bit, making you gasp a little and get distracted to the point that his hands pressed pushing into your underwear was a full surprise.

“Oh, you’re so wet, baby. Jesus. Got you all hot watching me in the shower, right?” Clark asked as he let go of your tit and looked up at you, his middle finger rubbing soft, not nearly enough, circles on your clit.

“Yeah, you looked so hot. You’re so handsome.” You responded as you looked up at the trees, the last bit of sun of the day peeking through the leaves while your body loosened and gave itself into Clark. He smiled and brought his lips to your other breast, adding another finger to the mix of his slow torture.

“Harder.” You pleaded, looking down at his brown locks and pulling slightly, making him groan onto your skin but he complied, applying more pressure on her.

“Fuck me, please.” You whined, trying to push on his pants eagerly.

“So crass.”

“Clark, I swear to fucking-“ He cut you off by kissing you with a laugh at your unashamed state, so horny you couldn’t care about anything else. Clark kept at his pace as you undid your bra, letting it fall down behind you. He moaned at the sight and started pushing you back down the blanket without breaking contact. He finally did to take off his jeans, fumbling for a while with the zipper over his hard cock before pulling down his boxers down in the same movement. He was barefoot, even though he knew better and there were many things flowing around that could pinch him and bite him.

“C’mon, lemme take those panties off.” He said as he motioned your hips up to pull them down, hissing at the sight of your wet flesh all red and puffy, mouth immediately watering. He put the fabric to side and mover a little weeds that were beside you m threatening to tickle you.

“Want you inside.” You moaned, using those big blown eyes that Clark adored so bad and could make him do anything. He smiled but instead of pushing his dick into you, he pulsed to fingers inside your tight hole. You were going to complain but Clark tickled immediately that specific spot with the easy only fingers could get, getting you jumbled up and confused.

“Give me one and I’ll stuff you, honey. Cum for me.” You shut your eyes and let your nose fall back, letting Clark touch you so good, so special that all you felt was the buzz of the animals and the smell of flowing water while your body received all it was getting, his fingers fucking in and out of you hard, his thumb stimulating your clit like he wanted it fast, he wanted it now. And he really, really could get it. He could get anything he wanted out of you.

His movements were fast and precise, two fingers making way for three fingers which was necessary if he even thought of getting his dick inside you. You responded, hell, your hole responded so wonderfully trying to trap him inside you as the sticky coating covered up to his knuckles, making him know you were horny and you were close. The tell tale signs were there, eyes shut and focusing, hands balling up into themselves and your mouth in a perfect ‘o’ shape.

Your high came with squeeze of your thighs together, but Clark pushed them back apart with ease and watched between your blissed out face and the hot, abused flesh between your thighs that he loved so much.

You whined a little as he kept at his pace while he pumped himself, hands both full in the best way.

“Gonna get in here now. You want that?”

“Yes, please, baby. Want you so bad.” He smiled, so pleased to know that you needed him every time you gave the opportunity to get inside you like this. Clark finally kneeled between you and lined himself up, pushing in one long thrust until he pressed against your cervix.

“You feel amazing, as always.” Clark whispered, leaning down slightly to kiss you as his hips started to give thrusts that removed himself between your walls slowly, but shoved back into you hard. It was heavenly. The smack of his hips against your thighs was delicious, tapping with every move he took as he fucked you like he’d been imagining it all day, which he actually had.

“Gosh, I won’t be long. Feel so darn good, baby. This pussy’s mine right?” Clark punctuated his words with his tip pressing into your cervix.

“Mine to stuff” thrust; “mine to touch” thrust; “mine to eat” thrust, “tell me you’re mine.”

“‘M yours, Clark, please. I’m yours.” You let yourself moan as loud as you wanted, no one could hear you here; the sound of the creek’s water running drowned out everything, along with the chirping of birds and the sound of Beetle prancing around the farm looking for something to play. It all faded into one beautiful symphony being set to the rhythm of your man fucking into you.

“Show me that ring, yeah.” Clark said as he brought your left hand to his mouth and sucked your left finger into the warm confines, licking up around your ring in a consumed way you hadn’t ever seen before, it was so, so hot.

“Gonna make me your wife?” You asked, resting on your forearms and letting your braid fall off your shoulders.

“I am, gonna make me the happiest when I see you in a dress. Like today, you look perfect in white. Gosh, I could marry you right now.” Clark was fully lost in it, eyes closed with his head pulled upwards, his hand still holding yours and pressing his thumb around your ring. He was drunk, off your pussy and how much he adored you and how content he was with your little family. He just needed the big celebration of your love for complete fulfillment.

“I’m close, baby.” Clark grabbed your ring finger and used it to rub mean tight circles on your clit, making you come undone for the second time, the trees in the sky fading to white for a second while you whimpered at the feeling, soon enough Clark was coming too and fucking that cum spurring out right back into you, his thighs shaking slightly from the shear intensity of his long-awaited orgasm. He slowed down and finally stopped after a moment, pulling himself out and watching the white slick pour out of you. You sat up to reach him, one hand sneaking to the crook of his neck and rubbing slow circles just like he liked.

“We fucked in the woods.” You laughed, opening your eyes to see his lovesick look that drank you in like the most exquisite Boticcelli.

“See why being a hick has its advantages?” Clark laughed at his own joke, kissing down the arm that was resting close to him as you laughed too.

“So, we gonna look at venues when we go home?” You smiled but shook your head.

“Let’s get married here. ‘S perfect, your parents will love it, we’ll save money.” Clark couldn’t help but let out a satisfied, loved up chuckle at the thought and wondered how it hadn’t occurred to him before. It was perfect.

“Can you wear this dress for it?”

“You’ll try to fuck me during the ceremony if I do.”

“Good point, save it for the honeymoon. I’m thinking Wichita for it?” You burst out laughing, shaking your head at your husband to be.

“Don’t you dare.”

“You’re right. Topeka it is.”

[quiteamessbabes]

Wedding bell blues

Please, marry me, Bill. I got the wedding bell blues. Or: why won't Clark Kent propose already?

Clark Kent x Female Reader

word count: 1.6 k

content: just fluff! mentions of drinking.

a/n: This was one of my most listened songs last year, I love Laura Nyro (although I prefer the Fifth Dimension version). Just a quick little blurb about wanting to marry your soulmate.

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“Did y’know Tupelo doesn’t have honey? I mean, they probably do but it’s not like a thing. So why would Van Morrison even write that? He’s Irish! What the fuck does he know about Mississippi?” Clark smiled as you kept on babbling, tipsy with your third vodka cranberry in your hand. His hand was steady at your waist, making sure you wouldn’t accidentally fall off the high chair of the bar.

“That’s a really good point. All men do is lie.” Lois answered, also sort of drunk and egging you on with all your dumb conversation topics. Clark kept you against him as the conversation drifted without him and he got distracted, seeing if there was something going on outside that needed his tending to. He focused real hard, but there wasn’t. He could gladly stay here, under the flashing light and loud singing with his girl by his side and his friends laughing along.

His devotion to his work, his calling for protecting the human race had been sort of trumped when he met you. You usually took the same subway to work in the mornings, both running late all the time but always having time to smile at each other. Once, at a particularly sharp stop where you were reviewing papers, you stumbled and at the speed of light, Clark caught you and your documents. The smile you shared was warm and toothy and Clark could feel something inside of him shift. Like he knew from the start this was the smile he wanted to see every day. You got to talking and realized you worked in the same building, Clark just usually ran out so fast he never noticed. You offered to buy him lunch that day in appreciation and the rest, as they say, was history.

You became part of the plan, he hadn’t lived a single day not loving you only, never not eager to be with you or see you, always keen to learn you inside out. So this moments, where everything felt soft and right and fun, it was all he could ask from this life. That’s who was now, Clark Kent, yours. Superman, yours.

“I- what song should we pick, Clarkson?” You asked, one hand coming to the side of his face to get his attention. He smiled at the nickname; you once jokingly asked if Clark was short for something and when he asked what could it possibly be short for, you responded “Well, I don’t know. Clarkson?”

“Don’t know, darling. Me and you?”

“No, me and her. God! You’re always trying to intrude in our moments.” Lois corrected, giving him a dirty look which Clark could not be offended at, he was only delighted that everyone loved you too. You giggled as you ran your finger down the list, looking for the correct song you two would belt out.

“Let’s do… Cowboy take me away! I loved this song secretly in high school.”

“Yeah! You’re a cowboy, baby. ‘S for you.” You said and looked up at him, winking at him and he rolled his eyes. He helped you down the chair, letting you run towards the stage and leaving him alone with Jimmy and the girl who was flirting with him, the rest of the group elsewhere in the bar. He watched you get a microphone and clear your throat, whispering something into Lois’ ear which the two of you laughed at.

The song started playing and Lois took the first verse, not terrible but not good. However, someone cheered at her which only made her get more excited and louder. Clark looked down at his phone, checking the time and weather to make sure no one got out of here too late, when he was distracted by a melodic voice taking over the chorus. He looked up, and sure enough it was coming from his girl. His beautiful, silly, sincere girl. It was like a choir of angels in your voice; he wondered if your spawn would get the same talent.

“Dude! How had you never mentioned she can sing?”

“I didn’t know!” Clark defended himself from Jimmy, looking back at you whose cheeks were red from the attention, but you were looking at him, singing right into his eyes before looking back at Lois. Clark couldn’t help but crack a smile at the fact that after three years together, he was still far from knowing you completely. There was still so much to go and, Jesus, was he excited for it. He still hadn’t found anything he didn’t like. When the song was over, you two waltzed back to the group hand in hand like you’d just finished a sold-out show, all giggly and sweaty.

“How’d we do, cowboy?” You asked as you came towards Clark and immediately grabbed your face between his hands, pulling you towards his own face and kissing your lips tenderly. A smile threatened to break the kiss on both your mouths so you pulled away and looked at him.

“Why were you hiding that from me?” He teased and you shrugged, not giving any answers to something you didn’t know. It hadn’t come up, and it’s not like you were Whitney Houston. You were just slightly better than average. It wasn’t much of a lie either; you’d never lie to him, scheme or hide. He’d never do it either. You two were already on the peeing with door open stage, the ‘look at this pimple’ stage, the ‘I talk to your mother just because’ stage.

“Gonna take me away now?” You asked and he nodded, one hand on your hip as the whole group moved towards the exit. Behind you, at the stage, a group of girls started to belt out Wedding Bell Blues and you looked back at them as Clark led you away, words starting to pour out like vomit from your mouth.

“Clark, are you ever going to marry me?” Clark’s eyes nearly fell out of the sockets when he heard the words, you looked at him first like you’d were embarrassed you even brought it up but then it turned into a quiet, alcoholic confidence because, hey, just like Laura Nyro wonders, when were you going to see your wedding day?

“Okay, you two… be safe. Bye!” Lois pulled Jimmy away from you and walked towards the other direction, eyes wide and amused at your sudden question. You kept looking up at Clark, waiting for an answer from his suddenly dry mouth.

“No comments? Want me to make my own conclusions?”

“No! I mean, baby, of course I want to! I love you.” Clark walked fast, as if he needed to get home and run from the conversation. Well, jokes on him, you live together.

“Want to what? Say it.”

“I- I want to, marry you I mean.”

“You almost barfed, Clark.” Clark laughed now, because surely you knew you were exaggerating. He loved you; you knew that more surely than anything else in the world. He stopped your steps next to a streetlight and made you look up at him, your silhouettes reflecting the image of love onto a white wall behind you. Picture perfect, exquisite, all that made up you two.

“Honey, I love you so. I always will. C’mon, you know I see my future with you.” He tried to reason but you still groaned at him, wrapping your arms around yourself as the alcohol wore off and so did your body heat. Clark sighed and placed his jacket on your shoulders; you didn’t fight it because deep down you knew he was right. You did know it was you and him for good. You just… wanted it on paper. With a picture, a dress, a vow reassured. Soon enough you got home and said nothing more, you took off your shoes and grabbed a glass of water as Clark went into your bedroom immediately. You sat on the couch and sighed, feeling a little ridiculous now for cornering him like that.

“Clark! I’m sorry, okay? It’s fine if you’re not ready. I know we’re committed, you’re my person, you’re always there for me.” You said as you walked into the room, pulling off his jacket before turning around to see him kneeling next to your window. You laughed, thinking he was being silly before he took his glasses off, putting them on the bed and pulling open a red velvet box. You dropped the jacket in shock, moving closer to see if he was just playing a sick joke on your poor heart. But no, there it was cushioned between mountains of superman blue you were sure was on purpose. It was a ring. A perfect, lovely ring. Perfect size, perfect color, perfect cut. God, did your man know you.

“You, my impatient, beautiful woman, are the love of my life. You’ve been on my side whether I’m winning or loosing, whether I’m Clark or Superman. It’s you, my girl. Will you marry me?” Your mouth let out a huff before you kneeled in front of him, kissing him quick. His mouth tasted different, like the relief of not having to hide that damn box all over the house, having to fly home to get to it before you did and check the ring again and again to make sure you’d like it. Like excitement of giving you a new title, his fiancee, his bride. His.

“So yes?”

“Yes, yes, fuck, yes. I’m sorry I was so annoying-“

“No, you’re not annoying. We were on the same page, I was planning to do it next week. But it’s as good a time as any, ain’t it?” Clark smirked and you nodded, watching him take the ring out of the box and place it softly on your ring finger. Like it had always belonged there. Your smile was surely sweet and sickly, looking down at your hand as Clark maneuvered you into his arms.

“Can I take you to bed, my bride?” He whispered, a kiss on your cheek and you looked at him. In his eyes, his ridiculous blue eyes, there was nothing but wide pupils and passion and love. Yours hopefully matched that, but by the way he looked at you right now, you were sure they did.

“Of course, Bill.”

[quiteamessbabes]

Hii :)

I was wondering if I could request a fanfic where the reader has multiple sclerosis?

It’s something I have been dealing with the past year and right after I was diagnosed my boyfriend of four years broke up with me after I was released from the hospital. If it’s not too much trouble, it would be super sweet to imagine Clark being there for reader. Maybe friends to lovers? 🤭

Thanks in any case!

thank you for sharing, i’m really sorry you’re going through this. I hope you like it and feel slightly better or comforted by it

still here

clark kent x female reader

word count: 3.1k

content: fluff, comfort, discussion of reader being sick and handling a diagnosis, friends to lovers, no other warnings

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

The walls of the doctor’s office were unbearably white and there’s a ringing in her ear that you’re not sure was there before. Before the news. You turned to look out the window and saw a couple of patients on the lawn of the hospital, a sunny day at hand. People were in their wheelchairs, bald head and feeding tubes all around.

So, it could be worse. It could definitely be so much worse. But it still felt like an elephant had sat on your chest and was mocking you for thinking, convincing yourself it was going to be fine.

“Miss, are you still with me?” The doctor asked you, noticing you zoned out and were breathing heavily. You looked back at the doctor and nodded, putting your hair behind your ears and shaking your hands that were becoming numb.

“I understand this is overwhelming. Maybe you should get your boyfriend to come in, be moral support, maybe take some notes on what I’m saying.” The doctor suggested, giving you a sure smile. You were sure she did this a lot and gave even worse news, so you were glad there didn’t seem to be one judging glance in her.

“He’s not my boyfriend but- yeah, he loves taking notes.” You joked and the doctor smiled, nodding and standing up to open the door to the consultation room and call in Clark, who sat outside biting his nails and trying not to make the floor shake with the tapping of his foot. Clark stood up and followed her in, seeing you sat on a white, sterile chair perfectly still and looking far beyond the room. Clark’s heart dropped at the sight of your depleted, confused face. So, not good news. He sat down next to her and kissed her temple, grabbing her hand to check her pulse and heartbeat invasively. It was quick.

“So, here’s the plan we’re gonna take with this diagnosis, okay? Not the boyfriend, you wanna get this information down so you can have it when you’re ready?” Clark nodded, taking out his small notebook and pen from his work bag since he’d come straight from the office to be with you, or at least wait outside to not be overbearing. You watched him press the notebook to the doctor’s desk so he could take notes without letting go of your hand, and he nodded every so often while writing at a speed that was just shy of being suspiciously fast.

The doctor was sweet and thorough, talking about the treatment plan to follow and the following appointments that would come. It was full of scary, big words that you barely understood but she was trying to make it sound less scary, Multiple Sclerosis was a scary name either way.

“Darling, listen to me. We take it one step at a time; we follow treatment and we’re consistent on exams. MS doesn’t need to ruin everything; it’s not going to. We’re not going to let it happen, right, friend?” Clark turned to look at you and nodded with that dopey, but firm closed mouth smile he always had when trying to be serious but sweet. You nodded, snapping out of your haze and shaking your head to let loose.

You set the date for the next blood work before starting treatment before leaving, Clark holding your hand tight and not saying anything until you stepped out of the hospital, where he turned to you. You usually let him hold your hand when needed, crowded rooms and when you felt too ill to stand up straight. This was just for comfort, and you would be lying if you didn’t want it. Your little crush on your friend had been growing in an uncomfortable amount since he just ran to your side when your boyfriend bailed at the first sign of weakness. Clark had been there, to wipe the tears and help you up every day. He acted as if he actually cared, was there for you every day. It didn’t help he was built like a god and had a smile that could stop wars.

“You okay, honey? You wanna do something? Go to a rage room? Wanna go get that soup you like in Chinatown?” Clark asked, one hand petting at your cheek softly to get your attention. It helped distract.

“I- I’m really fucking tired. Hey! Look, another symptom! Great, that’s just peachy.” You finally spoke, now realizing that was another warning sign. Clark nodded, pulling you closer.

“That’s fine. Let’s go to yours and get into bed early. I’m tired too.” He tried to sound convincing as if the man wasn’t a literal meta human that seemed to never stop spinning or speaking. You didn’t fight back though, letting him get you a cab and take you home, holding you steady through the small flight of steps to your building since your constant dizziness was making it harder to. Clark unlocked the door to your apartment when you handed him the keys, one arm still steady holding you. Your house seemed to be blocking out the loud noise of the street and your brain, finally clearing the buzzing sound in your ears.

You walked to your bed, kicked off your shoes and laid down, head between your pillows and trying not to cry. You could hear Clark pacing around your living room, on the phone probably with his mother since she’d been the one who recommended you see the doctor to follow up on your symptoms. You hated thinking about telling your friends, your family, your coworkers. It all dawned on you so fast; that’d you’d become that person that had to be careful, at the doctors, at therapy.

“Darling, y’want some tea? Oh, you must be freezing. I’m gonna get you a warm blanket.” Clark peaked into your room and answered himself, making you almost crack a smile. He came back with a fuzzy blanket he got you for valentine’s day along with other disgustingly cheesy and nice presents. He said it was a ‘friend’ basket just like when girls did ‘galentines’ which, sure, whatever. You took it gladly.

You weren’t freezing, you were fine, but you knew he needed to move and do things to feel useful when there wasn’t anything good to say. Putting a tea down next to you on the bedside table, he sat at the foot of the bed. His hand found your leg and rubbed it up and down, with the perfect amount of pressure to relieve your sore muscles.

“Can I move in with you?” He asked suddenly, making you lift your head out from the pillow.

“What?”

“Your place is closer to the hospital, and I just looked into the gym down the block and it has a pool and swimming is supposed to be great for MS so it just makes sense to be here. I love your apartment, too. I basically already live here. You have two rooms.” He started reasoning, his mind running as he looked at you trying to sound convincing. You sat up and looked back, shrinking your eyes at him. There wasn’t a single malicious bone in his body, you knew that from the moment you met him.

“Clark, I don’t need you to become my caregiver.”

“That’s not what this is. I just want to be here for you, always. I already am, aren’t I? Just makes sense for us to live together.” You gulped and rubbed at your temple, trying to take it as it was. It was the perfect opportunity for you to live together, you’d been together long enough, and you’d already talked about it. It just felt like pity.

“I- I want to be here, with you. Every day and every night. You’re my best friend.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to leave now? I’ll und-“

“No, c’mon. Don’t do that. I’m here, no matter what. So, there’s gonna be a change in routine and you’ll need more care. Whatever, I love taking care of you! I live for it. I love you. I wanna be here for the good nights and the bad ones and I wanna help. I know you want me here too.” Clark was convincing, really. He made you believe every word he said. And it is true; you wanted him here. You wanted to cuddle him and his help to move around, and you wanted his stupid pick me ups now more than ever.

“Okay.”

“Okay. Good.”

“I love you.” It was a confession. Clark smiled, probably didn’t understand.

“I know, darling."

“Clark, can you get her glasses?” Martha shouted as she grabbed your arms and led you up the couch. You rolled your eyes at the fact that she had Clark running around doing everything but said nothing, not to the sweet lady who was using all her strength to help you in therapy. Clark peered into your bag, very clear to you he was using his x-ray vision but didn’t find anything.

“No clue where you left them?” You scrunched your face trying to think terribly hard to where they were, but you could not remember. Hell, you could barely remember where you were.

“No. It’s fine, I’ll just… y’know, I can get by.” Clark frowned and muttered something about the car before leaving out the door, making you sigh. Martha was still holding you while you waited for the therapist to come back.

“Y’know, you raised that boy terribly well. He’s… an amazing friend. He’s still here.”

“Well, yeah, pumpkin. Of course. But it’s not me, it’s because he loves you.”

“Sometimes that's not enough. Usually. He’s still here though.”

“Darling, don’t do that to yourself. You’re not a burden; this isn’t a great sacrifice.” Martha said, giving you a side eye that would make you feel weird if it didn’t come from intense love. She’d loved you from the start, the first time she met you, you two spent the afternoon laughing with a pitcher of sweet tea and getting to know each other. Clark had taken you with him to the farm, saying wide open spaces and all that country songs were right about fresh air, it would make you feel better. He was always right, always careful, even before the diagnosis.

“Okay.” You mumbled and she smiled, petting your back in a soothing manner. You jawed hard suddenly, tired and dizzy from the therapy that wasn’t even midway finished. Clark suddenly sauntered in, holding your glasses case in his hands with a proud smile.

“In the car.” He smiled, taking them out and giving them a quick wipe before placing them on your nose.

“They look so good on you. You look like a sexy librarian.” Clark complimented your looks often, saying things like that to spark a shy smile from you or a teasing roll of the eyes. He meant them though, he really hoped you knew that.

“Clark!” Martha responded at his comment, giving him a scowl and he smirked, looking at you giggle softly meaning he had done what he wanted, made you smile. Martha ended up giggling too.

“You still up for your friends after, right?” Clark asked as he watched your therapist walk back into the room and you nodded. He smiled and kissed your cheek before stepping back, his mom letting you go too into the hands of the nurse. Clark sat back with his mother and pulled out his computer, pretending to be busy or else you’d chew his head off for wasting time here with you. However, he looked up constantly to see how you were doing.

“She’s doing good, right?”

“Great, Ma. She’s… perfect. Taking it like a champ.” He answered and his mother nodded. She’d come to visit and see how the apartment was now that they lived together and see how everything was settling in. She also brought a bunch of home remedies, herbs and farm knowledge that she wanted to apply.

“She’s gonna be okay. She has to.”

“You scared?”

“Ma.”

“It’s okay if you are, baby. You haven’t even told her you love her.”

“I tell her I love her.”

“Well, not like love love.”

“I- I don’t-“

“Clark. Son. I know you. You love her.” Clark looked at you to see if you were hearing the conversation, you weren’t, so he looked back at his mother.

“Well, I don’t think it’s the right time to say anything about it. Kinda think she knows though.”

“There won’t be a right time.”

“Clark! I brought her back in one piece!” Your friend yelled in the front door, smiling at him as he walked out of his room and caught up to you. You seemed to be fine though, and he didn’t want to be overbearing.

“How’d she behave?”

“Oh, she was animal all night! Had to pull her from dance floor, so much dancing. She wasn’t falling asleep in the booth.” Your friend said teasingly, giving you a small smile as she helped you take off your kitten heels, the only thing slightly high thing you’d wear now. Clark laughed and looked at you, all dolled up and so pretty as always. Your glasses were the final touch.

“Well, I’ll be going. You two behave.” Your friend winked at you, she knew Clark had been the object of your affection for long. She also respected and never said anything about it. Your cheeks went red, but you smiled either way, a hug following before she closed the door behind herself. Clark locked the front door and walked back to pick you up, without a word taking you to your room.

“I was fine.”

“Okay, then indulge me. I like having a pretty girl in my arms.” He responded, winking at you. You rolled your eyes but said nothing back, still thankful when he helped you move. Clark started pacing around the bathroom and getting ready the space for you to do your nighttime routine.

“I made muffins so we can take to the nurses tomorrow. Need to be on their good side, y’know?”

“The raspberries and chocolate ones?”

“Mhm.”

“We’re gonna rule that wing.” He laughed; glasses still perched on his eyes as he shook his head at you. You stood up and joined him in the bathroom.

“Your mom’s asleep?”

“Out like a light.”

“You can sleep here, with me again. If you’d like. You’re too big for the couch.” He’d obviously given his room for his mom to stay in, so he’d taken the couch last night and you stood up at midnight and saw him struggling to get comfortable. You stared for a few seconds more before it got creepy but still woke him up and led him to your queen-sized bed. He was too sleepy to fight it off, so he let you tuck him in and pulled you into his chest, one hand securely on your back for the rest of the night.

“You trynna get into my pants? My mom’s right there!” He teased as he saw you put the cotton pad down, squinting at his words. You started laughing but felt nervous he’d caught you.

“Fine, I can be quiet.” He said as he came up to you and you laughed again, he pushed your hair to the back of your ear.

“You look so pretty today. I like what you did with your hair.” He whispered now, more serious as he stared at you while you removed your make up.

“Clark. Stop pity flirting”. Clark’s face dropped at your comment, horrified at the fact that you could even consider he was saying that out of feeling sorry for you.

“It’s not- what? Pity? Look at you. You’re beautiful.” He said and held your face to the mirror, making you stare at yourself. You were looking at him though, his beautiful blue eyes and how his sleep shirt was practically clinging to his skin.

“So bossy.” You teased and he smiled again, moving away to give you privacy while you got ready for bed, checked your medication and settled into the bed. You were sneezing your head off, alright on the verge of another flu. Clark came back in with a tea that smelled strong of honey and ginger, just what you needed. You smiled at him in appreciation before he sat on the other side of your bed. It was quiet for a while, you flicked through your tv looking for something good to watch but you could hear the churns of Clark’s brain moving, hands nervously picking at your comforter as he stayed at a respectable distance from you.

“What’s cooking in that head of yours?” Clark shook his head, saying nothing and you wanted to let it go, truly, but Clark was a talker. He was honest and chatty and him having nothing to say was weird.

“Sure?”

“You know I’d have you anytime, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“Just, like... all my compliments and all, they are true. I mean them. I want you. Like, all of you.” You choked on the tea, looking at the boy next to you who was pouring his heart out to you after years of intense friendship. You put the drink down and turned to him, he turned to you too. You could barely believe what you were hearing, thinking all this time Clark was just being kind and you were just those friends who flirted and lived with each other and spent most of your time together and... oh.

“Like, romantically?” You threaded slowly. Clark smiled softly, looking down and gulping before nodding.

“Yes, honey. I mean you had that boyfriend and then all this happened and I didn’t want to spring it on you, but I love you. All I have is yours. You can take it, whenever you like.” Clark had never been so sure of anything in his life as he was right now. His mom was right, as per usual, there would never be a perfect time to confess. He just needed to put it out there, offer himself up and hope she takes it when she wants. You gulped, the last year was a whirlwind, all appointments and healing and trying to do right by yourself and Clark hadn’t faltered a single time, he was there when Superman let him and made sure everything was taken care of when he wasn’t. You didn’t need all that though, you liked him before.

“Oh. I didn’t know. Well, I’ll take it. Right now. Please. I love you too.” You said and Clark looked up from his hands, a big smile taking over his face. He took a hold of your face, gentle as always.

“Can I kiss you?” He asked and you responded by kneeling and kissing him first. It was stiff at first, both of you confused at what to do with this new advancement. But it worked, it worked soon when you both relaxed into each other, mouths opening to breathe each other in. He was as tender as he was with everything, as mindful and sweet as always. You felt like everything started to melt together, he slowly led you down to the bed and leaned over you, not once separating your lips. When you finally stopped for air, you smiled so impossibly big he couldn’t help but smile back.

“Have some things to catch up on, huh?” You teased, opening your legs to let him settle on his knees between them. He smirked and nodded, kissing you once more before following down your neck.

“Told you, I can be quiet.”

[quiteamessbabes]

jealous of the tv

Clark would be damned if his girl would rather watch a game than pay attention to him.

Clark Kent x Female Reader

Word count: 3.2k

Part of Sporty Spice series: read here all pieces!

Content: MDNI (18+) Smut, oral (fem recieving), unprotected piv. Whiny pouty Clark. Beetle cameo as per usual. Ice breath debut!

A/N: This is really inspired from events in real life lol, mainly because I lowk tune out of the world when a game's good. I love jealous whiny Clark! I'm going to Buenos Aires at the end of the week and feeling excited, haven’t been in ages! Anything new to do? Either way Tis the damn season part 3 will be finished by the end of the week

Happy start of the week! Thank you for taking the time to read my work, I appreciate it greatly as always!

divider creds

“Are you trying to put the moves on me?” She asked as she pushed her glasses back and finally glanced at Clark, who was still in his Superman suit even after having wiped the grime away. He was sat on the loveseat, meaty thighs spread open letting her see his package, thick and pressed to the blue fabric that was stretched. His hair was a mess, curly and flying all over his forehead as he rested his forearms on his knees. He was looking at her, meticulously as if trying to read her. Truthfully, he looked divine.

“If you have to ask, I’m clearly not doing too well.” He responded, exhasperated, standing up and whistling for Beetle to follow him into the kitchen; the dog prancing to him knowing it meant he was getting a treat or a game of rope pulling. She let out a chuckle at his fit. Usually, Clark just sitting there would do it for her. Have her practically purring in his lap begging for some affection or a little touch, maybe grind on him while running her hand up and down his chest.

But things bigger than them were going on. Specially, a cup semi-final with two powerhouse teams that had already had four goals 44 minutes in. It had her attention, had her sitting criss-crossed in front of the tv with a drink. She was wearing the Arsenal shirt Clark gifted her and she looked positively delectable. He loved when she wore her sporty attire and he loved when she wore things he had given her. Plus, the only thing other than the shirt she had on was some skintight cotton shorts. He was sure she was doing it on purpose because, c’mon, how could she sit there looking like that and be surprised he was trying to get between her legs?

“Okay, half time! What’s with the pouting, Superstar?” She announced as she stood up from the couch and walked towards the kitchen, watching him pour water into a cup. She leaned against the counter with her hip as Clark ignored her, opening the treat bag and making Beetle high five him for a treat. She was losing the battle against her snarky smile.

“Nothing, you’re busy.” She smiled as Clark shrugged his shoulders like a child, feeling rejected even if he hadn’t actually asked for anything. Clark finished his cup before walking past her to the couch, lying on it horizontally with a deep sigh.

“Clark, c’mon. You need some affection? You got it, baby.” She teased as Clark avoided her stare but sat himself up as he felt her come closer, receiving her on his lap like she was a gift from the highest order of heaven. She smiled down at him, so charmed at the fact that her hero boyfriend was throwing a hissy fit because he wanted her. His hands sat firm on her hips, opening his mouth ever so slightly at the sight of her hair cascading over her face as she cupped his cheeks, thumb rubbing down his lip while her nails grazed his teeth, feeling him teetering.

“Gonna kiss me?” She asked and Clark really didn’t need to be told twice, pulling her close to finally get the taste he’d been craving. His mouth was hot and needy, as if he had been trying to hold back since he came home and saw her so busy. Tongues came quickly into play, tingling down her body straight to her core while he brought his hands down to grab big, needy handfuls of her ass, enjoying themselves but also asking her to move, to give him some friction, some relief.

“You look so hot in your suit. You know what it does to me.” She mumbled as their lips separated for a breather, but his mouth kept kissing what he could reach, her cheek, the fat under her chin, the sensitive spot just below the neck.

“You were- Fuck.” She interrupted herself when she heard her phone ringing on the coffee table, the usual call from her dad to comment on the game was coming through.

“Wha- don’t answer it!” Clark asked, his voice high and slightly perplexed at the fact that she grabbed her phone.

“It’s my dad! Shut up.” She responded, knowing Clark would never ignore a call from his Pa, so it was highly hypocritical of him to ask. She answered, immediately laughing and cheery to talk to her father and although he couldn’t understand much, his hearing was detecting the whole conversation so he could know when to keep going. His mouth went back to skin, open mouthed kisses with thick licks that spiralled down to her collarbones and left a glimmer of saliva whenever he left the spot. Everything about her was addictive, she tasted salty and like the cocoa butter she rubbed on her skin and Clark swore he couldn’t help himself.

“Behave.” She whispered, pressing her hand to the microphone as her dad ranted and gave Clark a look of warning. Clark was debating whether he cared. A few minutes passed of back and forth giggles before she hung up, Clark was still possibly bruising her buttocks with constant squeezing and smelling the wetness growing between her legs with every kiss, a small smirk growing on his face.

“Sorry, you know he calls and tells me what his uncle said then his cousins then asks me than undermines me.” She explained even though he knew how the little ritual went every time there was a game they both cared about.

“‘S fine, I got you now.” Clark answered while starting to grind up to her, making her grab onto his shoulders for balance. He was finally getting what he wanted- her attention. His hands finally left her ass to start bringing them under her shirt, softly caressing and reaching her breasts, no bra, obviously since she was mean and teasing. His brusque thumbs, skin so rough from fighting and aggressive pen holding, found her nipples. He rubbed over them as they grew harder with his attention. She whimpered a little at the feeling of the roughness present to her nubs, giving into Clark’s loving when-

“Oh, the games back on. Time’s up.” She looked to the tv when the whistle blew.

“Are you kidding?”

“Not. Been looking forward to this all week and I may write about it.” Clark looked at his girlfriend as she turned around to face the tv. He couldn’t believe her sometimes. His beloved, take home to his mother, stepfather her dog, get on Duolingo for girlfriend simply couldn’t be pulled away from soccer- not soccer, football- match. Not for the promise of sex, not for his appreciation. Well.

“I’m gonna shower.” He said as she moved aside and let him stand up.

“Don’t be mad, honey. Just 45 minutes! Well, probably 50 ish.” Clark huffed as he walked into the bedroom, finally getting rid of the suit and throwing it in the hamper. He tried to cool off in the shower, he really did but every time he merely closed his eyes, flashes on her showed up on his iris. He could still taste her on his tongue. He was going insane. He wanted to convince her, wanted to taste her, touch her, anything really.

As he came out of the shower and got dressed, he peered into the living room and saw he had been too fast and the game still had 30 minutes to go. Clark could almost whimper. He thought about getting himself off but he wanted his girl, not just release. He wanted her.

He walked into the living room, determined to distract her and stood in front of her, who immediately frowned and looked up at him. He was trying to decipher her, see what would make her crack. Or what he could do without pissing her off right away.

“Clark! The tv’s on! They may be fighting and I can’t see.” She whined, leaning to the left to look behind the hunk of a man that basically covered the whole tv with those hips.

“C’mon, baby. You can do whatever you want just, move away from the tv, my love.” She whispered the last part, as if she didn’t want to sound too annoying about the game. Whatever he wanted away from the tv, okay, he could work with that. Clark slipped down to his knees in front of the tv, taking off his shirt and throwing it far, which made her look at him and laugh slightly.

“I love you, okay?” She whispered, placing her hands around his head and hoping he wasn’t actually upset or bothered at the fact that she was paying attention to the game and not to him when clearly wanted some.

“I love you more, honey, lift your hips for me?” She gave him a shy smile as her cheeks grew slightly red but she agreed, standing up in front of him, legs separated to fit him in the middle.

“Yeah, that’s it, lift your leg? Perfect, you can get comfortable again. Just sit on the edge.” She followed his orders to a T, letting him lift one foot to get her leg folded on the couch. He could see her even with the fabric still separating; she was wet, enough to make a dark patch on her simple cotton underwear. So, it had worked even a little. He brought his index and middle finger to her centre, rubbing slow circles on her clit of the fabric and seeing her body jump a little at the contact. He could hear her heartbeat, it was fast with expectation like it always was when they started up something like this, which, to be fair, was daily. She didn’t look down; still focused on her game (or at least pretending to be).

So Clark pushed the dampened underwear aside, holding her hips and pulling her closer to where his mouth could reach. He teased her, his hot breath so, so close to her wet flesh but not touching, no contact. He blew ice cold air on her, a magic trick brought to you by Krypton, making her jump a little and end up pressed to his mouth so it could warm her right back up. Clark smiled before taking out his tongue and doing soft, teasing licks on her clit that felt warm and nice, but did nothing other than get her wetter.

“Clark.”

“What? You’re busy.” She rolled her eyes with a smirk at her childish, beautiful boyfriend. She knew they would both crack soon enough; she’d forget the game and he would give her what she needed. She stayed perfectly still, eyes back on the tv as a free kick took place and fuck, she didn’t even see the foul. She frowned a little and looked for the remote but Clark suddenly enveloped her clit into his lips, sucking firm while the tip of his tongue drew small lines on her. He could feel her body losen, the hold over his head got a little tighter but she fell back, instinctively moving away from his abuse on her sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Nu-uh, where you going? Told me I could do what I wanted.” She whined a little, the shock of how good Clark could be with his mouth hadn’t worn out. He was simply really passionate about playing her body like a beautiful church organ that demanded care and tenderness and the perfect amount of roughness. That was so expertly shown when he went down, his tongue carved the ridges of her clit so precise, he would larp and suck at her labia, push the tip of his tongue into her opening to taste her right from the source. It was his favorite workout.

“C’mere, darling. Don’t be a brat.”

“I’m not- not being a brat.” She fought as Clark brought her back to his face and kissed her soft clit before diving right back in, tongue pressing against and following every ridge of her and taking the hood into his just to tease and see how it pulled on her clit and made her whine.

“You’re being mean.”

“‘M not, baby. I’m letting you watch your game.” She huffed when he responded that, as if his hot breath against her pussy wasn’t making her dizzy. He was being so mean and she was so into it. Clark proceeded to once again collect the wetness pooling at the bottom with tongue flat against her, licking all the way up to her inflamed clit and starting to draw small circles with the tip. It wasn’t enough, he knew that, but he had gained the right to tease her when she basically turned him down for a game. So he kept going and tuned into the sounds from her mouth she was trying to hide, whimpering and gasping whenever he pressed a little harder. The game was loud behind him, whistles and chants but he couldn’t care, he didn’t care.

“Clark, please, baby. I’m sorry.” He smiled, as he watched her look down at him with a pout he hadn’t seen before, her pupils were blown and he could see it. She was desperate. He separated from her and sat up straight to face her, pulling her loose hair behind her ear and noticing her upper lip was sweaty and her lips were quivering.

“Are ya?” She nodded, hands around his neck to pull him closer.

“I am, I should’ve been paying attention to you, Superstar.” She was telling him what he wanted to hear, and Clark was smirking at her like he had won the lottery with just his wits. Her mouth found his desperately, lips moving fast and eager, her legs tingling when she could taste herself on his tongue. Clark's hand found the small of her back to push her closer, popping one eye open to see her eyes were closed and she was actually giving him her full attention. He could jump in glee. He broke away from the kiss, looking at her red lips from his assault and wanting to drown in them.

“Alright, pretty girl. You win. Let me eat you good now.”

“No, no, please fuck me.” Clark laughed slightly at her flustered state but it wasn’t mocking, more like a happy surprise she was already begging for him even when he usually needed some time to get her ready for his dick.

“You want it that bad, huh? Can’t wait?” He wanted to make sure she didn’t want him to at least make her cum once with his mouth, which he wanted to do from the start, but it seemed like his teasing had lit something within her that was desperate.

“C’mon, I know you wanna be inside me. You’ve been rock hard since you got here.” Clark looked down to himself and sure enough, the print of his cock was visible through the sweats. He started pulling them down as he stood up, revealing he had no underwear on. Slut.

“Yeah, you’re just so beautiful. I love that shirt on you. C’mon, darling, bend over the couch.” Clark kissed her once before she happily obliged, laying herself on the back of the couch for his access. Clark placed a knee between her legs and pressed her open, leaning down to kiss her ass cheek once before lining up to her pussy.

“You want this? Don’t wanna watch the game?” He teased one last time, only pressing the head of his dick into her which to be fair already was a stretch, making her groan and pull back at his neck.

“Clark, please, I want it so bad.” She whined and grinned down on him, her ass slapping against his hips at the contact and god, he loved that sound. He didn’t need more convincing, grabbing onto her hips and guiding her down onto his dick slowly, moans leaving both of their mouths because the stretch was that good.

“Oh, honey, you feel like heaven.” Clark mumbled, mostly to himself as his head hung back for a second taking in the pressure of finally being inside her, and it was warm and tight as always.

“Fuck, you’re so big, baby.” She whined as she straightened herself up, placing her head on his chest and Clark kissed her forehead softly, she nodded to let him know it was okay to move, so Clark pulled back and slammed into her again, hard and making her groan as she fell back over the couch. Clark put forward a rhythm that was genuinely shocking sometimes, so steady and constant and he pulled almost all the way out before fucking back in, all without losing his breathe.

“Yeah, baby. You wanted to play hard to get when I know you crumble to get me inside you.” She nodded, mouth open as her nails squeezed into the back of the couch to catch every move and not fall over, even though she knew Clark was so careful he’d never let that happened. That had enabled many interesting positions that would’ve usually not been a possibility.

“You’re so deep, Clark. I feel you everywhere.” She confessed and Clark smirked, making his thrusts more potent and strong because he knew she liked it like that. Every thrust came with a gasp as if they were shocked it could go that deep inside her, all covered snd comfortable cushioned on her insides squeezing on him just right.

“Gonna cum for you, sweetheart, you’re so sweet to me. I love you.” Clark muttered into his breath, one hand letting go of her hip to grab onto her ass and smack with a little too much intensity, probably leaving hand print on her ass cheek. She loved seeing the marks he left on her body, her strong, careful man loving her all over and making her remember it.

“Yeah- God, Cum in me, Clark. I love you.” She answered, her orgasm soon impending too with the hard smack of his cock against her g-spot and unintentional grinding of her clit against the couch cushions. The dual stimulation was drowning out the tv. Her thighs clenched together as she came, her blood running hotter and giving her a lovely headache. She moaned when he kept going but followed real soon after her, cock twitching and filling her up with his sticky cum.

“Oh, golly, honey. So good. Needed you.” Clark whispered as he pulled her waist up to press her against his chest, pulling the shirt up to feel her bare skin against his hands. She regained her breath as she felt him kiss her sweaty forehead. One of her hands came up to rub the back of his neck in soothing presses. After a minute, Clark kissed her cheek once more before pulling away, removing himself from her insides with a shiver. It was cold, so cold outside her. Clark grabbed a couple of tissues from the coffee table and helped her wipe away the mixture of cum that rested between her thighs. A whistle from the tv caught her attention, turning around and resting her arms over his shoulder to look at the tv. The game was over, 5-3 with two red cards, her mouth dropping. Clark snorted out a laugh as she looked at the tv, finally finishing cleaning and turning around to see what she was staring at.

"Jesus, Clark! I missed all those goals what if they- oh my fucking god, I've turned into my father."

[quiteamessbabes]

Clark loses Beatle

Clark Kent x reader

word count: 1.7k

Part of Sporty Spice series: read here!

Content: fluff, comfort, Clark stands up for his girl and her dog, some anxiety, mentions of menstruation

A/N: hey gang. Thank you for taking the time to read my work, i really appreciate it. All three of these things have happened to me! My dog used to lay on top of my ex when he was with me, a lady once said my dog looked like he was from the streets and full of flees and he once ran from my uncle and came home. Also, the first picture is the inspiration behind Beetle, my baby.

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“This is so stinking cute. Stay still, superstar.” She said as she grabbed her phone and took multiple pictures of the sight before her very eyes. Clark had laid down on her lap, his warmth and pressure doing wanders for her cramps. Beetle, the dog with the biggest fomo in the world, had settled himself on top of his chest, head strategically placed next to Clark’s. She wasn’t fooled, Beetle was being protective by laying on top of the man he hadn’t decided yet if he was a threat or not. But Clark was fooled and thought the dog was simply warmed up to him. Either way, it was insanely charming to look at. She needed it as her background on her phone.

“Is he squishing you?”

“He’s not a thousand pounds, so no, my love.” He responded, slightly offended at the fact that she thought a 40-pound dog could do anything to him. He was superman, for god’s sake.

“Jeez, just asking.” She teased, bopping his nose tenderly and he bit her hand lovingly. It was a lazy Sunday, even the bad guys were resting today which gave Superman the right to rest. She had made chicken noodle soup for lunch and he had brought brownies; they ate on the couch while binging the new season of Shrinking. It was complete and utter domestic bliss, nowhere to run to. They stayed quiet for a while, her hand scratching at his scalp softly and absentmindedly as he stayed close to her abdomen, providing the comfort she desperately needed. When the episode finished, she stretched her arms and yawned. She moved down to kiss his face, soft and sweet while she marked up his cheeks with her cherry-scented lip balm. Clark stayed still, his hand still caressing softly down the fur of her pet. She finally got to his lips, giving him the kiss on his lips he'd been craving. Clark missed it before it was even over.

“Think it’s time for Beetle’s afternoon walk.” Beetle perked up at the mention of his name, she motioned to the door and the dog jumped eagerly off his chest and started shaking his tail. Clark sat up, stretching too as she stood up. She immediately winced and placed her hands under her stomach, feeling the pain return. Clark noticed, watching her walk in real short steps towards her crocs. He could see she felt like she was dripping everywhere by the way she was waddling like a toddler, he would find it adorable if she wasn´t in pain.

“Baby, let me take him out. You stay here.” As if Beetle understood, he started barking. She smiled nervously as she looked between them.

“Uhm, I don’t-“

“We’ll get by without you. I know the route to the park. Let me take care of it.” She closed her mouth and nodded, deciding Beetle could be trusted with Clark, giving him the leash and crouching down to give the dog a kiss and click on his collar. She said something to the dog in her native language, probably reassuring him that she’d miss him. She could tell it was important to Clark she was trusting him with her dog, and he always wanted to do more.

“Oh, I think everything poured out of me. Take some treats! Thank you, baby! Love you! Give him a few on the way so he’ll listen.” She yelled as she waddled to the bathroom, Clark smiling and placing a couple cookie into his pocket. He connected the leash and walked out the door, Beetle shaking his tail at the doorman and barking as if he wanted to say hi. The walk to the park went by without a hitch, Beetle sniffing and wagging happily. He let him off his leash inside the dog park two blocks away, she had chosen the apartment strategically close to it. His eyes didn’t leave the little guy, following his every move as he moved around like owned the place, he was so cute he understood why she adored him so much. He was just like her, cheery, gossipy, sweet and protective.

“Is that one yours?” A woman asked, motioning to him.

“Uh, my girlfriend’s but yes.” The woman nodded, her three Pomeranians running around barking loudly at all other dogs.

“Never seen anything like it. Is it a mutt?”

“Yep, he’s a rescue.”

“And you’ve had him checked before bringing him here, right? For flees, diseases, you never know with those types. Mimi, come here. Stay away.” Clark turned to look at the woman, middle aged and fuchsia lipstick adorned her mouth she had surely used to verbally abuse a minimum wage worker daily. She frowned as her precious Mimi came up to Beetle.

“Of course, he’s perfectly well taken care of.” He responded, trying to control his offended face from scowling too hard at what he was hearing.

“Sure, but those street animals- “

“Dog, he is a dog and he’s good and well taken care of and not a threat.” Clark responded, goosebumps on his skin as the lady looked offended at the fact that Clark so much as answered. He couldn’t believe she was speaking about the dog like he was some sort of wild hyena unworthy of being in the park. His girl had lathered him with love and care, and he was just as mischievous and loyal as any other dog.

“There was no need for that tone, young man.”

“Did you see what Superman did the other day? More like Supershit.” He heard another person say at the other end of the park, making the tension in his neck get stronger.

“I wasn’t being rude, m’am.” He responded to the lady and turned his head to listen to the couple on the other side making fun of Superman, his brain turning to mush. He tried to listen into the conversation before he looked back at Beetle, noticing he wasn’t where he last saw him by a tree. In fact, he wasn’t anywhere in the park, he could not identify him nearby. Clark started calling him, looking around to with his x-ray view to try and spot him hiding.

“Has anyone seen a dog about yay tall, white with brown spots?” He yelled, placing his hand bellow his knee to clarify the height of the canine and using his Superman voice to really project to everyone in the vicinity of the dog park.

“I saw him leave behind a Labrador, I thought they were together.” A man responded, Clark shrieking at the revelation. He took his eyes off him for two minutes; how far could the dog have gone?

Clark ran out the park and looked around to see if he could see the Labrador or Beetle prancing around looking for food near a bin. He was nowhere to be seen and the ache on his neck became an all-consuming headache. She was going to kill him, hell, he’d help her. Beetle was her son, her baby. He was the only thing she brought from home, her only constant protection and company. And the thought of something happening to the dog was chilling. He supposed he could find Kara and Krypto could help find him, he patted around for his phone before realizing he left it charging at her house. God, he’d have to go home without her dog. He could imagine the look of panic and heartbreak in her eyes, how she’d detest him for breaking her trust. Clark paced around the park for another couple of minutes to check if he was maybe roaming around here still.

He realized if anyone could find him it would be her, so he jogged back to her building rehearsing what he would say and how to stop his heart from jumping out of his chest.

The doorman smiled at him as he walked back into the building, guiding him back to the elevator as if he knew something. Clark murmured ‘thanks’ and pressed the button, breathing in and out carefully, seeing the door open to Beetle standing there wagging his tail as if he was glad to see Clark.

“What? What the hay?” He said, crouching down to feel the dog was actually there and he wasn’t imagining him.

“Hey! Took you long.” She said as she stood by the door frame, hands crossed to her chest as she looked at him.

“Baby, I- I stopped looking at him for two minutes and he ran I was- I was searching. Did you- did you like see him outside or? "He asked, explaining himself out of breath and walking up to her, who tried to frown to mess with him, but it turned into a smile.

“He does that, honestly. He came straight here; doorman got him and let me know. Don’t worry, it’s not your fault.” She said, pulling him into a hug and kissing his chest. Clark breathed out, hugging her back.

“Gosh, baby. I thought you were going to kill me.” She laughed, shaking her head and breathing in his nervous sweat. She led him back into the apartment and saw Beetle on the couch already, spent like he was the scared one.

“I’m realizing he’s only good for me and the lady from the daycare. Sorry, should’ve warned you.” She said, rubbing his back in a soothing manner, biting the smile from her lips. She should’ve known Beetle would pull someone like this, like he was testing Clark to see if he would be a good fit in their life.

“‘S fine. Just glad he’s here and he’s okay.” Clark responded, sitting down next to him and petting his head, the dog looking up at him with innocent eyes. He sighed, and they watched each other as if they were having a heart to heart.

“You’re such a dad, gosh. You’re giving the dog a talking to with your eyes. He used to live in the street, give him some credit.” She teased, looking at them. Clark laughed, moving back to look at her.

“Scared me to death.”

“I’m sorry, baby. He’s a riot. Is there anything I can do to make you feel better?” She said, moving into his lap. He opened his arms and enveloped her, hugging her close to his lap.

“Kiss and make up?”

“Who, me or him?” Clark chuckled and pecked her lips, her responding with a deep settling kiss that faded the pain on his neck. He moved his hands up to her face, smushing her cheeks between them. He couldn't be annoyed at her sweet eyes and mischievous look, just like her dog. They were one and the same, brought here to test him and cuddle him. Clark was so happy about it.

“You're lucky I love you.”

“You as in me or you as in us?”

“Both of you.”

“Both of us love you too.” She said, kissing his palm when Beetle groaned, denying his inclusion in that statement, making them laugh.