⸠ę°â§âË â°den ⸠19 â this is a very mature blog!! +18!! | Ao3
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â´ âąandoms i write for.á . DC â YELLOWJACKETS â TWISTER â TLOU â THE PITT â SPN â¸â¸.á
⢠so whatâs new? â¤ď¸ bush lover clark â mean!shauna â oral w/clark â mouthy clark â slapping clark â S.MILLER â super-glasses â missed you â soft clark hcâs
for the angst what abt something abt clark finding out reader who's usually very confident and dominant struggling with food
love fed [explicit 18+ warning: eating disorders, body image, body dysmorphia, hurt/comfort, fluff + angst]
. . .
It was odd for Clark to so much as imagine the more confident, self assured people heâs known to experience anything rather than the ups of life. The downs always seemed so quiet, so hush-hush and hidden in the dark behind closed doors or even borderline nonexistent. Their smiles could be so joyous and bright, their body language always fearless and proud in both photographs and reality that it didnât occur to him that it could only be a certain front they put up. A facade merely holding on by a thread before any cracks could start revealing themselves.
Clarkâs girlfriend of a few months shy under a year was one of the most outspoken, self assured women heâs ever met â and none of her traits ever seemed to falter even when her self esteem got tested. She never looked like she was on the edge. It was usually her that was comforting him, easing his pointless anxieties that taunted him on a daily basis. It was him learning from her on how to adapt a more care free attitude.
The way she moved her body, the way she dressed, the ways she presented and carried herself overall. Back straight, tense eye contact, smile always warm and reaching her eyes. On the surface she radiated this natural abundance of positivity, of self acceptance, inspiration. Corny as it may have sounded to anybody else, it moved Clark in a way that he could praise and describe for hours if anyone listened. So it was a shock, a wake up call really, when the cracks started to show in one of the strongest women heâs ever known â to learn that even the toughest, most confident people still werenât immune to going through hiccups and bumps in the road like everybody else. That these bumps and hiccups could carry on and lead to something life threatening.
He softly brings up what heâs been noticing for a little while on one particular night. Tries to remain calm, open, gentle. Even when he dreads her choosing to close herself off from him like she previously has before. He gets to eye level with her before shoving his face in her neck as he whispers to her through a long, thoughtful hug -
âI feel like, like thereâs something wrong that maybe youâre not ready to tell me or talk about. But Iâll be here whenever you feel ready. I want you to remember how much I care about you.â
The thing was that Clark noticed the little things more frequently than he lead on. Didnât want to make his concerns too sudden or loud that he might scare her off from feeling the freedom to be open with him after these struggles were so directly noted and perceived by her observant boyfriend. On the other hand he did want to sound the alarm, wanted to get as close to her as possible and address everything as soon as he witnessed it. Close off any distance between them and get to the bottom of what was bringing her to do this to herself, what was making her feel like keeping him at armâs length when he wanted so desperately to be closer.
It became more obvious it wasnât a one off thing because they lived together, and he sees her. Watches her out of pure adoration. Knows her body, memorizes her habits, her quirks and rituals that shape who she is. And when something stops feeling right he makes sure he holds her tighter, kisses her longer, tells her he loves her and that there was nothing she could confess to him that would ever make any of that affection and love go away.
Clark wished with everything in his heart that it was that easy and simple to take all of her pain away and make all her turmoil dissipate. A few kisses and talks. But it wasnât going to be.
She started skipping breakfast at first, nonchalant while brushing off his offers for even a measly piece of toast and said they were about to be late for work.
The excuses from then on tended to vary from âI donât have any timeâ to âIâm just not hungry yet, itâs still too early in the morning babyâthen to âthose are making my stomach upset lately. Iâll just drink a protein shake, come on. We have to go.â
He kept looking at her in almost frightened disbelief when her mood and her temper got increasingly worse whenever he offered her anything to make for her on the go. Waffles, pancakes, egg sandwiches, burritos â all of her favorite foods to eat just sat in the fridge, still bagged up and untouched. Sometimes they were hidden in the very back on the bottom shelf as to not alarm Clark that she had neglected to take them for lunch. Of course he notices. Frowns at it for a long while with a few sighs before ultimately closing the fridge, hugging an arm over himself before grabbing his phone to type out a text.
Is everything okay?
Have you eaten? I still see your lunch in the fridge. I can come by and bring some fresh food if you want something else. Hope your day is going good! I love you
Clark checks his phone every few minutes for her reply. It took over an hour, and she just sends a little heart and says sheâs sorry and that she loves him too. Omitting any concrete answer to his offer or his question.
Somehow her appetite boiled down to coffee or lousy pieces of sugar free gum which was a piss poor excuse for a meal. That wasnât even classified as a snack. But she insisted he put his concern to rest, putting her foot down, assuring him there was really nothing to be worrying about. Or worse, trying to laugh him off with a âwho are you, grandma? Why do you care so much about what I had to eat?â
Clark sighed, kissed her forehead. Drove them to work with his mouth shut while her head turned to stare out the window, occasionally taking sips of her coffee and anxiously bouncing her leg up and down. He still tries to hold her hand or her back as they walk into the office, but she shrugs his touch away and walks slightly ahead. The subtle rejection bit him and burned with a sting that lingered over him all day.
Clark still tries to catch small glimpses of what was really going on in her inner world, figure out what sheâd silently communicate even when she didnât know or intend to. His ears perk and his brows pinch when he witnesses her looking at herself in the mirror, turning away, then crossing her arms. Mumbles something about how some of her shirts and a trusty old pair of jeans stopped fitting right then promptly trudges right back to their bedroom to lay down. Appearing more exhausted, gloomy and frail than heâd ever seen her.
When they first started dating, their meals were lavish. It was one of their many ways of connecting, of bonding over a meal and a chat about their day or any movies or books theyâd dissect together or recommend to each other. Clark would put his skills to work in the kitchen and set her up with full plates that she was so giddy for that sheâd end up licking it all up until it was clean. Theyâd laugh about being so full they couldnât walk. Sheâd tell him how much of an incredible cook he is. Heâd tell her how he experimented with some different techniques and ingredients and felt nervous about what she thought of the changes, and was delighted to hear that she enjoyed it.
Nowadays Clark ate alone at the dining table. If they did share dinner together she played around the chunks with a fork, getting lost in a story about her day hoping to distract from the fact that sheâd barely taken more than a few bites. Clarkâs wiped his plate clean and even goes for some cookies for dessert that she debates on having but soon turns them down and informs him she canât stomach any sweets lately.
After an especially grueling day at work the ride home is silent. She saves her tears for bed when she curls in on his shoulder and dry heaves while telling him she feels like nothing ever seems to just go right for her. That her career would be too much an easy breezy fairytale if she didnât get reprimanded for some simple mistakes her boss chastised her and belittled her for. Spending too much time in the bathroom, losing focus during meetings, coming back five minutes late from her breaks yawning nonstop.
Clark rubs her back and holds her tight, noticing just how much smaller sheâs shrunk while his arms engulf her body. He kisses the top of her head and tells her sheâs the most intelligent, most beautiful woman heâs ever known and it hurts to see her spiral into this much anguish. How the bags under her eyes got deeper, how her naps became even more frequent and much longer. Clark tells her to at the very least drink more water and has started filling up a glass for her bedside, hoping she stays hydrated after letting out all of those tears.
On one weekend they have their first intimate moment theyâve gotten together in weeks. Clark is on top, holding up most of his weight as to not crush her. Kisses down her neck, her jaw, grinding his eager cock into her thigh while she breathes and lazily holds onto him by his back, trailing her fingers down his spine. Letting him do the moving for them. She asked that he not turn on any lights when she stripped down her pajama pants and her panties, keeping that baggy shirt on that she never seems to take off while Clark shamelessly made himself fully bare in order to feel the warmth in the closeness of being skin to skin with her after what felt like so long. He was inside her for only a few minutes before she suddenly loses all consciousness in a hazy, malnourished exhaustion with her head falling to the side and her arms unfastening from his back and isnât even capable of responding when he reacts, grabs her face, calls out her name.
Pulling himself out of her, he doesnât stifle any of his panic or incoming tears as he grabs her face and strokes her hair. Raising his voice to wake her up somehow.
âPlease, please baby, answer me. Wake up. Wake up. Am I gonna have toââ
Clark shuffles for his phone, still naked and petrified. She stirs and opens her eyes just before he finished dialing 911.
âWhat is going on with you? What just happened? Baby, you donât just faint like that if nothing is wrong. I need to get some real help for you here.â
She blinks and still doesnât seem to fully register his words or any of her surroundings. Clark runs to the kitchen and fills up a full glass of orange juice. Something to put in her growling stomach.
Thankfully, he watches her chug it down, eyes still half lidded. Clark is so nervous that she appeared too weak to even hold her own glass so he makes her sit up so he can hold it to her mouth for her. He quickly grabs a piece of bread and breaks it up into little pieces, placing them one at a time in her palm, watching her take the little bites and swallow them down. Knows immediately that going to work the next day was out of the question.
So he holds her hand, caresses the back of it with his thumb. Has another arm around her back and rocks her back and forth. And he carefully tells her again.
âSomethingâs wrong. And itâs⌠itâs only gotten worse. I know it has. I want you to talk to me, honey. Please. Youâve been hiding this too long. I wanna see the real you again.â
Sheâs quiet for a long time after that. Still stays wrapped up in the embrace, sipping the tea he also got up and made, nibbling on the orange that he peeled. Clark didnât know what could have done it, what could have broke the dam sheâd so carefully built up. But all the tears and the emotion finally get flushed out and break free.
A weak, raw sob wracks out of her throat. She muffles the rest of her noises in his chest while she gets his bare torso wet from her leaking eyes, whimpering and clawing at his shoulders while he holds her tight and pats her back. Closes his eyes and listens to her stuttering and slurring.
âI didnât think you would even care. Itâs just stupid. I swear I didnât mean to get this bad. Iâve been such a bitch, pushing you further and further awayâŚâ
Clark shoots down her attempts at getting even more self destructive.
âNo. No, donât do that. Thatâs not fair to you. I can see what youâve been dealing with. It would be hard for me to smile and act care free too if I was hurting the same way you have. You arenât to blame. Okay? You arenât.â
âBut Iâve been a fucking asshole! I throw tantrums when you ask me how I am. I canât look at myself. I canât look you in the eye anymore. Itâs been too much. Thought youâd just up and leave me already for how Iâve been acting lately.â
Clark listens while she lets it out. Vomits everything up that sheâs held in and shoved down her own throat and swallowed up because every toxic thought had held that much power over her. It didnât let her feel good or feel innocent for sneaking a fucking cupcake at a work party, or feel guilty for throwing food away that had stayed untouched for so long it grew mold. Or leaving Clark to eat all by himself and watch some random YouTube video on his phone as he ate, not even attempting to get up and knock on their shared bedroom door in fear that heâd be bugging her if he asked for her to keep him company.
Stepping on the scale they had shoved in the cabinets of their bathroom made her head spin and her hands tremble. Even if the outcome of all the skipped meals brought the result sheâd hoped for it still made her sick to her stomach to look at any number. Checking the mirror over and over to see if her collarbones stuck out in a way that looked more appealing according to her warped standards. Held her breath and sucked everything in. Pressing in on her lower belly like that could somehow make it all just disappear.
Passed off any symptoms as being tired, stressed, overworked. Wondering if it stroked the voice in her headâs ego when Clark first started showing concern. In a twisted way she thought the attention meant it had to be working. She could stop all this when she wanted to, she just didnât want to quit yet.
Clark has tears running down his cheeks too but he swipes them away before they roll down too far. Sniffles and keeps the soft, slow pace as he rocked her body back and forth. âI wouldnât ever, ever leave you. Especially not when youâre in this much pain, when you need helpâŚâ
âI donât want help, I just want a break from it all because Iâm so tired. I can get better on my own. I know I can. Iâm just taking it too far lately. Getting dizzy. Power bar could solve it. Maybe some of those famous morning buttery pancakes of yours too while youâre at it in the kitchen with that little apron I love seeing you in.â
The last ditch effort for some semblance of humor doesnât fool Clark. He cups her face and leans in.
âYou⌠you passed out while I was still inside you. You donât eat any breakfast, you donât eat the lunches I pack you, and I see the guilt written all over your face when you finally eat dinner. You canât keep going like this. Itâs going to kill you. Youâve already disappeared. I couldnât live with myself if I watched you struggle and never so much as acknowledged it or tried to take care of you. Help youâŚ. help you take better care of yourself.â
She bites down on her bottom lip hard, thinking thatâs gonna do it to hold the remainder of her sobs in. Allâs it does is make her choke on them. She reaches for him again and he accepts her embrace, cooing in her ear that sheâs not alone and heâs always going to be there whenever she trips and falls and goes through her ups and downs.
He feeds her slowly while they turn on some trash reality TV to lighten all the brooding tension that fogged the space between them. Heâs slow, doesnât want to overwhelm her and force any more than sheâs able to take. She confessed that she felt so empty it made her nauseous, so he had Tums on her bedside just in case all of the food became too much for her shrunken stomach to digest.
After sheâs halfway done she taps out and holds her belly, with Clark praising her efforts and telling her she did such a good job. Later after a few episodes he grins and gets up to make them a shared cup of hot chocolate with a mountain of overflowing whipped cream swirled to the top. She laughs when Clark takes the first big gulp, getting a spot of white cream on his nose and kissing her right after. Transferring the mess onto her face in the process. She keeps giggling as she licks some off his tongue and his lips, and Clark sighs into her mouth and deepens the kiss. Hoping that every touch, every move communicated just how much heâs missed her, missed this intimacy. And not only the physical aspect of it. More specifically he missed the raw, undeniable vulnerability when finally getting to pull back the curtain and welcome whatever had been guarded behind it.
It wasnât fixed overnight. It wasnât one hard conversation that would alter all of her thinking back to prioritizing her health over the fierce need for control that had started to fester over time. Clark knows healing was gonna take time. Day by day was what he would always tell her, they just take it day by day, meal by meal.
Even if her breakfast was small, or if she doesnât want solid food because it felt too heavy. To alleviate that heâd blend up a smoothie for the both of them out of some frozen strawberries, blueberries, banana, apple juice. Even if she just snacks on things nonstop throughout the day and then stuffs herself full for dinner all to fall asleep on their couch before heâs even finished doing the dishes. It was more than enough for Clark to see that she was trying.
And even when a tone deaf co-worker of theirs passes them by in the break room right as Clark was blowing on a hot bite of food for her before raising it up to her mouth. The co-worker feigns a gasp and has the nerve to say wow, who wouldâve guessed that she actually eats. Clark shuts the comment down with a stern, infuriated shake of his head and comes straight to her defense after hearing the needless, presumptuous nature of a comment coming from a stranger that didnât know how much courage it was taking his girlfriend to keep going like this.
It throws her off balance, sure, but she makes a choice to ignore the chatter and brush off the passive aggressive phrase thrown her way. That time she kept on eating almost out of spite, scraping the bowl clean after grabbing the spoon right out of Clarkâs hands.
It was strenuous, rocky progress but it was progress nonetheless. He also throws their scale in the trash and takes the bag out on garbage day to ensure she doesnât get tempted to step on it and let it define her entire day or disturb her peace of mind after reading whatever number that glows on the screen.
She still cries when itâs too much. In the slow, agonizing day by day process of recovery her body was changing more here and there and it was a lot for her to get up in the morning, stare in the mirror, put her clothes back on and go to work. But she tried, with little number of sick days taken off of work, and naps that took up her entire night sometimes. But Clark values her trying, and know she deserves her rest after the long battle sheâs been fighting.
He still prepares her morning cup of coffee, gives her a muffin on the side to go with it. Tries not to make her feel like heâs staring when she chews, even if his eyes canât help but glance over every few minutes and study her minuscule facial expressions with every swallow. Sometimes will still happily feed her by his own hand once she does fess up and admit sheâs getting hungry. When sheâs achy and tired during their morning car rides before the long day ahead of them, he reaches over and strokes her thigh with his palm. Holds onto her knee, repeatedly gushes about how proud he is to be by her side and watch her confidence and her sense of self slowly but surely bloom again back to what she used to effortlessly show to the world.
. . .
I wanted to approach this with caution and care :( mostly clarkâs POV so a lot was him noticing, I love angst and sensitive topics like these to exercise my brain and broaden my writing, thank you thank you anon for this request:) I was so happy that someone took me up on some angstier writing - also I wanna disclose that if youâre struggling too to please please reach out to somebody that you trust and take slow baby steps everyday because youâre more than worth it and you deserve to love any and every bit of who you are and the body youâre living in!
I hope I did this idea even a speck of justice that it deserves cause Iâve wanted to write EDs for a long time, Iâve written only a similar type of thing dealing with body insecurity one other time with another character a year ago or so. I felt rusty but I was excited to get a request like this :)
anyways anyways thank you so much for taking the time reading my things and please feel free to gently let me know what you thought :0
clark kent being very clingy and stubborn in the morning
tw: literally none, this is just fluffy.
pairings: husband!clark kent x female reader.
author's note: this was a request!
The rain was a steady sound against the windows as it pitter-pattered against the glass. You had just woken up and you were cuddled up under the covers, Clark's strong arms wrapped tightly around your waist, his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck. You could hardly move with him laying on top of you like this.
You attempted to try and uncurl his arms from your waist but, the moment you moved an inch, a low groan vibrated against your neck. His arms that were currently wrapped around your waist tightened even more. He never used his super strength on you but the sheer size of him was enough to securely pin you to the mattress.
"Where are you going?" He murmured, his voice deep and gravelly with sleep. He didn't open his eyes or look up at you, instead he nuzzled his face further into your neck, his breath warm against your soft skin.
"Clark, the alarm went off ten minutes ago." You said with a soft chuckle as you ran your fingers through his dark, messy hair. "You need to get up. Don't you have a deadline at The Daily Planet?"
"I don't care." He mumbled, his nose lightly nudging your collarbone as he pulled you impossibly closer to himself. At this point there wasn't even an inch of space between the two of you. "Perry can survive without me. He can fire me for all I care, as long as I can stay here with you."
"Honey, I have to go to work too y'know. I'd love to stay in bed all day with you and cuddle, but we have lives to live. Bills to pay." You chuckled.
"You can't leave." Clark said, finally lifting his head to look at you. "Do you hear that?" He asked as he gestured to the window with a nod of his head. "It's pouring outside. You can't go out there in that. Stay here with me where it's warm and dry." He said as he nuzzled his face into your neck once again.
"I'm not made of sugar. I'm not going to melt." You laughed.
"You aren't? But you're so sweet." He said softly as he planted a soft kiss against your neck.
"Okay, that was really corny." You said but you couldn't fight the smile that was tugging at the corners of your lips. You continued to threat your fingers through his curls. "You know we can't stay in though. Unfortunately that's not how life works for us."
"Well it could work like that today." He insisted and you could hear a small pout in his voice. He shimmied up your body a little more as he rested his head on your shoulder, his blue eyes flicking up to you. "Please? Stay with me a little longer. Just five more minutes."
You let out a sigh that had no real heat behind it as you smiled more. "Fine. Only five minutes though. After that we have to get up, understood?"
He nodded eagerly and kissed your shoulder. "Understood. Five minutes."
You laid there with him, your fingers playing with his hair as he clung onto you like a koala. Right now Clark wasn't the man of steel or Metropolis's savior, he was just a stubborn and clingy man that wanted nothing more than to just hold you for as long as he could.
Šfaepoetry please do not steal, copy, repost, reuse, or translate my work.
â end note: i love this man omg đ
â clark kent masterlist | main masterlist
â if you liked this fic then i would really appreciate it if you liked, or commented, or reblog it! thanks for reading! â
LATE NIGHT WORRIES ââââă
dad!clark, established relationship, domestic fluff, kisses, brief mention of birth, clark being a big softie...
you see the worry behind clarks eyes.
even if everything had been perfect the last few months after you gave birth. the labor went fine, you were safe and healthy, the baby was beautiful. clark always said she had your eyes even if she barely opened them.
but it's another late night, you're both lingering over the crib in the dim corner of your room looking down at the tiny, sleeping angel. he's got his hands grasped at the rail leaning closer, his eyes stuck on the slow rise and fall of her little chest, you're not sure he's even breathing. its a perfect moment, domestic bliss at its finest.
clark glances over you, how you're watching him, how you know somethings wrong just from his clenched jaw and soft eyes. he knows you know.
he steps over to you smiling all gentle and sweet, coming up from behind and pulling his arms around your middle holding you softly so you feel the hard of his body behind you. always solid and dependable. his chest pressed against your back and you swear you can feel his heart beating, even hear it in the silence of the room.
he presses a kiss to your cheek, leaning his head just right, then another in the crook of your neck.
"clark whats wrong�", you whisper out softly leaning into him, breaking the silence. a heavy sigh leaves his lips.
"nothâ", he swallows quietly, letting a beat pass as he furrows his brow letting his nose run over the smooth skin along your neck.
"i justâ i worry sweetheartâ"
he sighs hiding his face in your hair, taking in the sweet smell of your shampoo. you reach a hand back into his hair, stroking through his dark curls soothingly, nodding at his words, silently urging him to continue.
"she's so small 'n the world's so big s'allâŚ"
his words squeeze at your heart, clark was already the softest man on earth and somehow he was only getting softer with your daughter around.
"she'll be braveâ just like you clark.", you whisper back quietly, scratching the back of his neck gently.
clark smiles at that. presses a long kiss to your shoulder, looking down at your baby with your head tucked under his chin as he hums into your hair, pulling you just a little closer to him. it was like the room radiated a comfortable warmth, safe and sweet from the rest of the world.
"you're perfectâ both of youâ"
"and you're not?", you hum out a little laugh, quiet as ever letting your smaller hands run over his skin.
it's so, so quiet. you feel clarks breath warm the back of your neck, you feel him shift before he speaks, whispering all soft and uneasy, almost ashamed.
"you think i'm any good at this�"
"clarkâ", you tense a little before turning to him already knowing exactly what he meant. your hands make there way to his face, with your thumbs soothing over his cheeks, he's got that little frown with his brows furrowing together. he's putty in your hands, practically melting into your touch.
you shake your head holding back a scoff, almost laughing at how absurd the thought of clark kent being a bad father would be.
"don't say things like thatâ"
"you're the bestâ you're literally to good for this worldâ"
clark lips curled upward, not necessarily at your words but at how much you clearly meant them. you let his arms curl around you, let his lips press against yours, you let him smother you with the heavy blanket of his love.
"thanks sweetheartâŚ"
Š rottndeer 2026. please do not repost, copy, translate or use any of my work for ai. i post only on tumblr.
van would do anything to make sure their partner is well taken care of, no matter where or when; treating you like their own toy to use whenever. since discovering your kink for freeuse, they had sure been using it to their advantage. and god, there was no way you could complain.
ânghhâ van, i canât,â you whined over the counter, bent over the cold marble. the water you had placed on the stove minutes before softly bubbled as you felt their thick strap pistoning in and out of your leaking hole. naked skin below the harness slapped against your backside, filling the kitchen with the sound of steady and constant pounding.
âcâmon, you can finish your food later. just let me have this first?,â they proposed, still concentrating on their rhythm and watching the silicone stretching your walls with each thrust into you. they were absolutely entranced with how you absorbed the shock, the fat of your ass softly recoiling each time their hips made contact.
the tip consistently hit your g-spot from the consistent angle, making you whine harder and sink your head down into your arms resting on the counter. the girth alone was enough to make your brain foggy, every inch opening you up even further. you could hardly handle it, especially as suddenly as it had been given to you. your right hand weakly reached behind you swatting at their stomach in an attempt to push them away from you.
âoh, donât do that. you know you can take it, baby,â you could just hear that stupid ass smirk in their voice and it only made you groan louder. freckled hands reached for yours, pinning them behind your back to continue their rough hits of their hips into yours. embarrassingly, you only felt yourself grower closer at their condescension. drool spilled out of your mouth onto your forearm as you rapidly approached your climax. van recognizing the weakness in your legs, and of course, used this as an invitation to roughen their movements, chuckling at the crescendo in your moans.
the words could barely leave your mouth before you felt yourself convulsing all over and loudly whimpering into the counter. the right hand that remained between vanâs fingers grasping out for nothing while their thrusts continued to guide you through your climax. the pot of water on the hot stove had boiled over at this point, meeting you at the same point in your peak as you finally came down from your hard orgasm. van reluctantly pulled out watching as you clenched around nothing as you were emptied.
their hands gently pulled your pants back up to your hips, kissing your forehead as they turned you around to face them. your face was covered in tears, eyes bloodshot as you hiccuped into their arms. âi guess iâll finish cooking later,â you weakly chuckled at them, turning the heat off and placing your pot to the side.
đşđďźi just made BULLSHITTTT . . but hai iâm alive and will maybe start writing more idk i like to procrastinate ok bye
also follow my cute butchâs blog đ @c00l3st-b0y-1n-t0wn
Your bodyâs basically powered down and Clark feels immense guilt every time you cough in your sleep. Youâve been ill for the last three days and the cough is genuinely the part that terrifies him. That and the fever you keep spiking every couple hours.
Your entire body shakes as you cough, your chest rattles and it makes your already frayed voice worse. Nothing has helped besides medicine that has you knocked out all day.
Ma Kent drops by some soup and Clark feels bad having to wake you up to have some but he knows itâll help. âHoney girl,â he murmurs, hand on the back of your head as he tries to rouse you. âTime to have some soup.â
You wake slowly, and when you do you try to say âhiâ and break out in a fit of coughs. Clark frowns, âItâs okay baby,â he kisses your nose. Youâve long since given up on trying to stop him. âMa brought chicken egg noodle soup.â
He feeds you one bowl and then you lay your head on his arm, suddenly tired. âTasted really good.â Your voice cracks on every other syllable and he frowns.
âI hate how sick youâve gotten,â he murmurs, kissing your temple. You cough, and his palm immediately rubs your back.
âCan I have more medicine?â His guilt worsens.
âYou canât angel,â he whispers, âYouâve maxed out everything.â
You eyes go glassy, and Clark really feels his heart drop. âWe can have a warm shower and steam and maybe itâll open up your chest.â
âOkay,â you murmur, sad as tears roll hot down your cheeks. âDo you think I can have some ice cream after?â
It feels like the least he can do. âCourse my heart, you can have the biggest bowl ever.â
pairing: strip club manager scott miller x stripper reader
warnings: 18+ smut, angsty, fluffly a bit, sentimental scott, love confession, cunnilingus, missionary p-in-v, creampie, squirting, no y/n, not proofread
wc: 3.5k
a/n: this is a part two to "with benefits?" - im alive! a month later but it's something!i didnt think people would like part one so much but im so glad people did, so heres a part 2! its a mix of a bunch of reqs (i promise im not ignoring them lol) my inbox is always open and i love my scotty so pls send me reqs now that i have more free time !!! as always constructive criticism is always welcome ty !!
three weeks. it has been three weeks since you and scott had hooked up in the back of his truck, and he got way too close to saying how much he loved you while you swallowed his load. how classy. the last interaction you had was him leaving a box of morning-after pills at your front door along with some breakfast, but other than that, radio silence.
youâd both felt it that night, the shift in your relationship, whatever it was. at first, you both were more than comfortable with keeping things feelings-free. scott was never a sentimental person. sure, heâd had a couple of girlfriends over the years, but he had triple the amount of meaningless hookups. he didnât do feelings.
neither did you. or at least, thatâs what you believed. thatâs what he believed.Â
but of course, the heart wants what it wants, and you both found yourselves getting particularly attached to each other. but after that night, the realization hit you both at the same timeâyou liked each other. you needed each other. more than just occasional quickies. you needed something real, meaningful.
things had been awkward since. you hadnât hooked up. hadnât had any rushed makeout sessions in that one janitor's closet that oddly always smelled like mustard in the back of the club. nothing. just clipped greetings in passing, stiff nods, weird glances.Â
scott didnât know if he was inadvertently avoiding you, or if you were inadvertently avoiding him. neither did you. but you did know that you didnât like this feeling. youâd missed him so much. but still, you never found the strength to just talk to him.
then came tonight, which truly couldnât have gone worse for you.
while you were getting ready at home, youâd spilled your foundation all over the place, which got all over your clothes and your desk. it took obnoxiously long to clean everything up, find a change of clothes, and keep going with your makeup with only the little bit of foundation youâd managed to save. you were debating on calling out sick, but that meant calling scott. and you really didnât want to talk to scott right now.
so, youâd shown up particularly late, rushing to the dressing room to quickly freshen up, and then head out to work the floor first since all the poles were taken.Â
it was a particularly busy night, which usually wouldâve gone well for someone who was so skilled at working the floor and draining pockets like yourself, but for some reason tonight was the night that every single girl came in. not a single one not working.
that made it hard for you to get anything done. just one stupid lap dance, one set on the pole, and then your shift was over, barely any tips made thanks to the oversaturation of girls. scott, of course, was watching the entire time. most of the time he spent in his office, he spent staring into the security cameras, and he just couldnât help but stare at you. keeping you safe. ready to step in and kick some perv out if needed.
once your shift was over, you were quick to get changed, scrub your makeup off, and head home, but your rideâanother stripper, mandyâwas working overtime and wasnât leaving for another two hours. coincidentally, scott was leaving at the same time as the other manager came in for his shift.Â
you weighed out your options.Â
one: wait another two hours for mandy to finish. it was already three in the morning, your phone was about to die, you forgot your charger at home, and you were hungry. not an option.Â
two: pay for an uber. in this busy part of town to get where you lived, it wouldâve been a hefty price, one you really didnât want to pay. but if you really had to, it wouldnât be the end of the world.Â
three: walk. nope. too dangerous. you lived miles out. you couldnât walk all that, alone, in slides, at this time.
four: just ask scott for a ride. heâd do it in a heartbeat, get you some food, let you use his charger, not make you pay him anything, and maybe youâd end the night with some dick.
well, thatâs how it would usually go. now, there were feelings involvedâgross. feelings you didnât want to confront. feelings scott didnât want to confront. then again, though, you were an adult. scott was an adult. surely, he wouldnât act like a stuttering, awkward teenage boy if you asked him for a ride after you gave him a blowjob so good it made him want to marry you despite insisting you keep things casualâŚright?
your feet moved before your mind even registered it, bringing you right to his office. knocking on the door, scott immediately looked over his shoulder, clearing his throat at the sight of you.
âhey,â he said, wiping his hands on his pants as he turned in his chair to face you. âiâm just uh.. finishing up real quick, iâm on my way out so.. whatever you want, make it quick.â
you bit back a scoff at that. make it quick. it was almost funny, how hard he was trying to make it seem like he didnât care, and how hard he was failing. you wanted to make a snarky comment, call his bluff, tease him, but you didnât. distance and all that. you just got right to the point.
âi need a ride home. mandyâs not getting out for another two hours and i canât wait.â
scott hesitated. never in the countless times that you asked him for a ride has he ever hesitated.Â
âscott.â
âno, yeah, i heard you.â
âso?â
âuh⌠sure, yeah, no problem. here, go heat it up for me,â he sighed, reaching into his pocket and handing you the keys to his truck, not making eye contact with you.
you didnât say anything else, just headed out to that pristine white truck that scott drove, parked out back.
he didnât take long to come out and settle into the driver's seat. he didnât say a word as he pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, driving the familiar route to your place.Â
there was a tense silence in the truck for a good ten minutes, before scott spoke up. âyou hungry?â
âno.â
as soon as you said it, your traitorous stomach grumbled. scott didnât want to argue further, making his decision.
âiâm getting you something to eat.â
âi can feed myself, scott.â
âitâs four in the morning. the last time you tried cooking for yourself at this time, you fell asleep with the stove on and nearby burned your entire apartment building down. let me get you something on the way.â
you left it at that, not protesting further. the entire time, neither of you found it in you to look at each other, not even for a second of eye contact.Â
he pulled into the drive-thru of the same 24-hour burger place he knew you loved so much, ordering your usual burger with a large fry and a milkshake of your choosing. he knew how much your work tired you out, it was the least he could do.
you ate in silence as he parked in the empty parking lot, only murmuring out a âthanksâ when he handed it to you. scott tried to act like he was busy and not at all focused on you, scrolling through messages heâd already opened, pretending to text back, even scrolling through his weather app as if it were the most entertaining piece of media he could find.
the tension just got to a point where you couldnât stand it anymore. through bites of your burger, you spoke up. âwe should probably talk about it.âÂ
âabout what?â scott said, clearing his throat.
âscott.â
a beat.
âwhat is there to talk about?â scott eventually sighed.
âare you fucking serious?â
âwhat?â
âyouâve been weird ever since that night! you havenât called, you havenât texted, havenât offered me any rides home. youâve been avoiding me like the plague!â you huff, setting your burger down and turning in the seat to face him properly.
âme? iâve been weird? youâve been the one avoiding me.â
âno, i havenât!â
âyes, you have.â
âyouâre such a fucking child, scott, jesus fucking christ.â
you sit in silence for a moment, turning back to stare out of the window and not at him.
âdid i do something?â you finally whisper.
âwhat?â
âthat night. did i do something wrong? we had sex and then you got all⌠weird. it was after that that you started avoiding me. did i like⌠use teeth or something? am i that bad at sucking dick that you cut me off?â you tried to make it sound humorous, lighten the mood, but scott didnât laugh.
his fingers tapped against the steering wheel, his jaw clacked incessantly with the chewing of his gum. tense. awkward. annoying.
âno. you didnât do anything wrong. you could never do anything wrong,â scott finally whispered, glancing at you though his peripheral.Â
âthen what was it?â
scott swallowed thickly. he was never a man to confront his feelings straight up. he was the type to just push, push, push them all the way down until they eventually dissipated. but he couldnât do that anymore. not with you. he thought for a moment, not out of hesitance, just trying to find the right words.
âi donât know, i just⌠i felt something that night. all this time, i told myself that iâm not a relationship kind of guy. i do stupid things like this, pushing someone that makes me feel good away. why? i donât even know myself. maybe protection. protecting my feelings, protecting you from myself⌠i donât know what exactly. i know that this entire time, iâve been telling you that what we have is casual, no feelings⌠but you just do something to me, i canât control it.â
scott stared straight ahead as he spoke. he couldnât look at you. not yet. you just stared at your lap, soaking it all in, letting him get it all out.Â
âi look at you, and i feel all buzzy inside. i canât stop it as my brain begins to wander. i start thinking about you outside of just work, just hookups in my truck. envisioning a life with you. seeing something real with you. i guess it all just⌠crushed down on me that night. it scared me. not being able to detach myself emotionally. it was so overwhelming, but i guess thatâs what love is, isnât it? an overwhelming, unstoppable feeling.â
âare you saying you love me?â you softly chuckle, finally giving him a small smile as you look up at him. âtake me out to dinner first, at least.â
that got a chuckle out of scott. a genuine chuckle that made his chest rumble and the tips of his ears go pink.
âmaybe i am. the early stages of it, at least. i didnât know what to do with that feeling. distance was just the easiest thing. but hey, youâre not exactly innocent either. you also went cold.â
âwell, you canât exactly blame me. you wouldnât even make eye contact with me. i didnât want to chase you if you werenât willing. i didnât want to waste my time.â
âiâm ready, though,â scott whispered, finally glancing over at you. ânow. i want to be there for you. i want to be with you. i mean⌠if you want that, of course. do you? want that, i mean?â
scott swallowed thickly, hating how vulnerable and pathetic he sounded. the last thing he wanted was to pour his heart and soul out to you, just for you to say something along the lines of âthanks, but i only see you as a friend.â
your silence didnât help the situation. but eventually, you spoke up.
âhr is gonna lose their shitâŚâ
âis that a yes?â he sounded embarrassingly hopeful. but you found it cute.
you blushed at the idea. dating was hard for a stripper. a lot of jealousy, possessiveness, slut-shaming had made you sort of turn away from the idea of dating all together, which is what landed you in this so-called âcasualâ relationship with scott.
by now, your burger and fries sat cold, your milkshake all melted, but you paid it no mind. if anything, scott would just go buy you more. the gentleman he was.
and even if he werenât technically your superior at work, he didnât judge you for your work. he never pushed you to quit. never made any comments on your character. never got jealous, not really. he didnât feel any competition with the middle aged, balding, beer belly regular named charles that had a wife and three kids at home who could only tip singles and had a fondness for you.
he trusted you.Â
âthis is gonna cause a lot of problems at work, scottyâŚâ
âno one needs to knowâŚâ
âpeople are totally gonna notice. i think mandy and kitty already caught on to us fucking,â you chuckle softly, looking up at him with a small smile.
âwell, if hr finds out, busts my ass, and fires me for it, itâd be worth it. there are plenty of other seasonal jobs. i donât care. i just want you. if youâll have meââ
you barely let him finish his sentence before cutting him off with a kiss. scott was quick to reciprocate, his hands closing around your waist and pulling you close to him.Â
âiâll take that as a yes, then?â he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, then down your jaw. never have you ever seen scott so soft. he was always rough with his kisses. all teeth and tongue. hands groping and tugging. but not now. not anymore.
âyes,â you breathed out, tilting his head up with your hand under his chin and pressing your lips to his again. you were both tempted to crawl into the backseat like you always did, but you wanted something special. something different. you werenât just a casual hookup anymore, after all, he couldnât treat you like one.
so, scott was quick to drive back to your place. he acted all chivalrous, throwing out your trash for you, holding doors open, helping you out of the truck, carrying your bag in one hand and holding your hand in the other. you could barely contain yourselves once you got alone, immediately dragging him to the bedroom. heâd only been in your apartment a handful of times, never thought much of it. but now, he took it all inâwell, as much as he could as you rushed to take him to bed.
it was all so you. you had three bedroomsâone designated for yourself, another room totally designated for your cat which you treated like your daughter, and another room you had renovated with mirrors lining the wall and a pole installed to practice in. it was also so clean. it smelled like vanilla and a hint of pumpkin, your scent, the scent he admired so much, the scent he was even starting to dream about.
âcome on, donât get all distracted on me,â you chuckle as you notice scott's eyes wandering your room. you shut the door behind you, locking itâyour cat had somehow found out how to open doors, you didnât want to traumatize herâbefore turning back to scott. his focus was back on you entirely, his arms wrapping around your back and hoisting you up into the air as your lips smashed against his. he was gentle as he set you down on the bed. he was even gentler as he undressed you, kissing every inch of skin as he pulled your clothes down. it did a good job in getting you all worked up, because by the time he got to pulling your panties off, you were soaking wet.
âso pretty,â scott murmured, not even realizing it, as he leaned down and settled between your legs. he kissed around your thighs, warming you up, before sealing his lips around your clit. he moaned against your pussy, having missed the taste so much over these past three weeks. your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging and guiding his head.Â
âyeah, scotty, like that,â you moaned out, clamping a hand over your mouth. the last thing you needed was a noise complaint from your neighbors at 4 in the morning. scott worked diligently on your pussy, having two fingers thrusting in and out of you so he could focus his mouth on your clit. he felt your thighs start to tighten and tremble around his head, and he pulled back before you could cum.
âyou asshole, not fair,â you whine with a chuckle.
âpatience, baby,â scott whispered, a small smile on his face as he quickly undressed. he was rock hard by now, not bothering with a condom as he settled between your legs once again. your fingers wrapped around his shoulders, anchoring yourself as scott slowly pushed inside you, one hand on your stomach, the other on your waist. before you could moan too loud, he leaned down, pressing his lips to yours and swallowing your noises. he pushed in slowly, working you open and giving you a moment to adjust as he filled you up. your legs were tight around his back, keeping him as close as possible to you.
âcome on, i can take it,â you whispered against his lips with a wide, genuine smile. that was all scott needed to hear. his forearms braced on either side of your head, his forehead pressed to yours and his eyes not leaving you for a single moment as he started to thrust in and out, nice and slow. he let out little grunts and puffs of air against your lips, using all his will and might to restrain himself from just fucking the shit out of you. but tonight wasnât that kind of night.Â
âyou feel amazing, baby, so perfect, all for me,â he grunted, pressing his lips to your cheek as he picked up the pace a little bit.
âuh-huh, and you feel perfect for me, so big, filling me all the way up, hitting all the right spotsââ you moan, your fingers trailing down to his biceps, your long, sharp stiletto nails digging into his skin.
scott trailed one hand down in between your legs, hitting your clit dead-on and rubbing nice, tight circles on it. his lips found yours once again, the both of you swallowing each other whole, groaning and moaning against each other. his dick was so thick, curved just right, rubbing against all the right spots in you, making you see stars.Â
you were so tight around him, too, squeezing and pulsing around him in time with his thrusts. your bodies meshed perfectly together, truly as if you were made solely for each other. soon enough, you both came at the same time. you gushed around scott, getting the mess all over your thighs, his stomach, and the sheets below you, and he spilled deeply inside of you. you couldnât even speak, just whine and moan against his lips, holding onto him like he would disappear if you let go.
the entire time, he softly spoke you through itââiâm here,â âthatâs it, let it all out, beautiful.â scott gradually slowed down until he fully stopped, waiting until he got the greenlight from you to pull out. once he did, he moved in a blur around your apartmentâfinding towels, cleaning you up, getting water, quickly changing your sheets and tossing the wet ones into the washer, before he settled in with you.
for a while, neither of you spoke. you just laid together, his chest to your back as you laid on your side, tucked against him. he assumed you fell asleep, his mind beginning to wander, but you broke him out of it as you spoke up.Â
âi guess this means weâre boyfriend-girlfriend now.â
âi guess soâŚâ scott turned his head to the side, his nose nudging your jaw as he placed his lips to your neck from behind. âlet me take you out. all official and stuff. a nice dinner or something.â
âoh, how romantic,â you softly chuckle, turning your head and pecking his lips with yours.Â
âyou make me romantic,â he murmurs against your lips.Â
â...i would like that,â you finally respond, smiling against his lips. âa nice dinner. tomorrow⌠or i guess, tonight,â you chuckle, glancing past scott and squinting at the analog clock on your bedside table, the red numbers screaming â4:57â at you.
âtonight, then. iâll take you out tonight. you just get your rest now, yeah?â he whispered, pressing a final kiss to your lips before relaxing behind you. his nose was buried in your hair, breathing you in.
he felt something inside him settle. something he didnât know was missing in his life, found in you. scott miller. changed from a fuckboy, able to fuck a girl and move onto the next, to a sappy, sentimental boyfriend. he wouldnât have it any other way.
wtrdprch - don't redistribute my works anywhere - want more?
hyperspermia!clark who hates cockwarming for the sole reason that he just can't stop cumming inside you ! his condition combined with his strong kryptonian genes working to keep him painfully hard and swollen even as he blows load after sticky load inside your pussy while you sit perfectly still on his lap.
clark loves hates the creamy mess that drips down his shaft all the way down to his balls, a combination of your slick and all the cum he's spilled inside you from just feeling your warmth wrapped around each throbbing vein, swollen tight around his now, aching cock.
"really ? I'm not even doing anything and you can't stop cumming like some loser, clarkie." you taunt, your voice syrupy sweet with condescension as you grind down against the base of him in tiny little circles that have clark panting beneath you as he groans, "stop, baby please I don't think I can cum anymoâ"
"oh I know you can. it's all you're really good for anyway, isn't it ?" your words make clark's cock twitch excitedly as he suffers through another minor orgasm within your overstuffed pussy, his hips bucking upwards as his previous loads gush back out around his shaft.
god, he really did hate having to cum this much.
taglist : @kelbrave, @icebearcucumber, popeheywardssecretgf, @piinkcoke, @hufflepuff-n-fluff, @literallydo3eyed, @restinpaece, @baskinginthesilentworld, @knivesdoingcartwheels.
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á oversize!men who read up on how to fit inside you pt.ii
oversize!men pt.i
tw. extreme size kink. mdni.
oversize!men who struggle to fit inside of you even after prepping you on their fingers for hours; he'd been patient and slow, truly taking his sweet time in prepping you for his fat cock with his fingers scissoring you open with knuckle-deep thrusts.
still, when he pushed the swollen head of his cock into your entrance, you were whining just the same as always and clawing at his shoulders with desperation. the pressure was just too much when he began to push forward, the heavy weight of him filling you up till you swore you could feel him in your stomach.
"m' too full !" you whine, gasping for breath as you push back at his chest. one glance downwards however tells him that his cock was just a little over halfway inside of you.
"hold on, honey I've heard this helps." he says before his thumb settles on your clit, drawing soft yet precise little circles that had your hips squirming forward, his shaft sinking a few inches deeper into your warmth.
"fuck." he groans into your neck and you moan as the fat head kissed kisses well past your sweet spot, settling deeper inside of you than he ever had before.
he'd always prioritised your comfort and safety over his long-standing desire to for once be able to sink fully inside of you, and so, every time that two of you'd previously had sex, he'd never fucked you with more of his cock that you could handle.
"where did you hear it ?" you gasp as he fucks himself deeper into you with shallow pumps of his hips, all the while rubbing your clit and sending a heady rush of pleasure straight to your head.
the question makes him freeze, his face flushing harder than it already is as he mumbles, "read up on it. "
"read up on what ?" you press, now smirking at his adorable embarrassment even as he's got himself wedged halfway up your gut.
"on how to f-fit inside you, okay ?" he admits, sheepish and you giggle, running a hand through his sweaty sex hair. "and what did you learn ?"
"yây'know, that stimulation during the time of penetration helps relax the- the muscles and makes it easier to accommodate y'know larger sizedâ" you burst out laughing at his nerdy, textbook-esque words.
"oh you think that's funny ?" he says before he's suddenly fucking himself even deeper into you, finally finally buried balls-deep inside your pussy. your eyes roll back as his cock kisses spots inside of you that you never knew existed.
god, you couldn't wait to find out what else he'd learnt.
taglist :@kelbrave, @icebearcucumber, @sketchbonked, popeheywardssecretgf, @lizzebear123.
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Clark thinking his coworker doesnât like him until he comes up behind her to help her grab something and he gets hit with the smell of straight up arousal and heâs like âOhhhhâ đ
i love when he uses his senses for evil, even if itâs accidental <3
warnings: very suggestive considering the prompt so 18+ only pls
send me requests here!
ââââââââââ
Clark had convinced himself: he was utterly hopeless. Heâd harbored what he considered to be an embarrassing crush on her for quite some time. An unrequited crush. No matter what Jimmy said.
âDude, just ask her out. Seriously, she looks like sheâs about to start drooling every time youâre within five feet of her,â Jimmy said with a chuckle, spinning around in his chair.
Clark rolled his eyes as he walked past him to get to his desk, dropping down with a huff.
âI think Iâd have noticed something like that, Jimmy.â
âYou donât notice anything,â Jimmy muttered softly.
âHey!â
âExcept when you somehow hear literally everything. God, how do you do it?â
Clark just shook his head. âYouâre not as quiet as you think you are.â
âAnd youâre oblivious.â Jimmy glanced up as Cat came by, making a beeline for the coffee pot. âHey, Cat. Youâve got a knack for gossip and office romance. Back me up, here.â
âAbout what?â She raised a brow, suddenly interested.
âClark and his little admirer,â Jimmy stated, wiggling his brows as he nodded to the girl currently talking with Perry across the room. âShe totally has a crush on him.â
Cat smiled deviously. âCrush is putting it in very tame terms. Clark, given the chance, sheâd be crawling all over you.â
Clark stammered, cheeks going pink as he dismissed the idea. There was no way. She was pretty and put together and⌠there was no way.
He got through the day with his thoughts swirling. They grew even more insistent every time she talked to him or looked at him or was in his general vicinity. Her perfume lingered in his nose, drawing him in like a siren song. He was pathetic and he knew it.
To make matters worse, sheâd called him over for help in a cramped file room.
âSorry, I tried myself but itâs way too high up,â she said softly, looking at him. She was trying to grab an old file from an article about an ice cream shop that had been around for ages, and was now on the brink of closing. âI really need it for my piece. Iâm hoping if we draw some attention, theyâll get the sales boost they need to stay afloat. Unfortunately, I am not a 6â5 giant like you.â
â6â4, actually,â he murmured quietly. âItâs nice though. That you want to help them. Youâre always so kind.â
âGee, way to butter a girl up,â she replied with a chuckle. His cheeks flushed again. She pointed up at a box on the top shelf, reaching up on her tiptoes. âThis one right here.â
âGot it.â He nodded diligently.
He reached up, expecting her to move out of the way, but she just stood there. Squished between his body and the shelf. He mumbled out an apology as he grabbed the box, pulling it off the shelf. He tried like hell not to let her notice how flustered he was at the contact, her back against his chest. It felt perfect. Too perfect. He ignored the way his cock jumped to life, trying to will it to go back down before it created an embarrassing bulge in the front of his slacks.
âHere it is. W-want it on your desk?â
âHuh?â Her eyes went wide. If he didnât know any better, heâd say she looked a little flustered. âOh. Oh, the box. Yeah, yes. On my desk is fine. Thank you, Clark.â
He just smiled a little, taking in a deep breath. Gosh, she smelled good. He breathed in again as she moved to get around him, but this time he caught a whiff of something else under her perfume. Like her skin, but more⌠more. Something that guaranteed heâd have to be taking a trip to the restroom very soon if he didnât want to make a fool of himself. Thank goodness for the box he could hold in front of his hips.
Was she⌠aroused?
He let his eyes scan over her, taking it all in as he walked with her to his desk. Her heart beat a little faster, she definitely looked a little bit nervous, her eyes went a little darker, and that smell⌠Oh boy.
Clark set the box down at her desk, promptly excusing himself from the situation and her pretty eyes looking up at him.
It was a good ten minutes later before he was sinking into his chair again, staring at his computer.
âLong bathroom break, Clark,â Jimmy commented with a short laugh.
Clark nodded curtly. âYeah. Yeah⌠I, uh⌠Iâm gonna ask her out.â
Jimmy just stared, taken aback by the sudden change in his tune.
âAny reason why you changed your mind so fast?â
pairing: clark kent x reader
summary: while getting frisky with your boyfriend, you both made an unsettling discovery
word count: 0.6k
tags: gn!reader, fluff, oneshot, suggestive
a/n: the discovery is inspired by real life recent articles i came across #arewesurprised?
The sound of ragged breathing and wet lips resonated in the living room. A giggle slipped past your lips when Clark planted kisses along your jaw before lowering and pressing a chaste kiss on the curve of your neck.
You let out a contented sigh, absorbed in the feel of your boyfriend's lips trailing every inch of you. Meanwhile, Clark was not so discreetly gazing down your clothes, using his super vision to look past the fabric. Rather than seeing the usual when he was in a frisky mood (like right now), the corners of his mouth turned downwards at the revelation.
"What is it, babe?" You moved back slightly when you felt him halt his movements.
"I'm really sorry to interrupt our..." He paused to clear his throat and subtly look between you two. "Generally speaking, our clothes are not made out of metal, right?" He finished his sentence, eyes squinting at your shirt as if trying to make something out.
"Yeah? Although, if its fast fashion we're talking about, I'm not entirely surprised if they add mercury into our clothes," You joked, looking down briefly to your shirt to see if there was anything out of place.
"Why the question? One of your conspiracy theories?" You chuckled at your boyfriend's sudden interest at the topic in hand. Eager to resume your earlier actions, you placed your hands onto his broad chest â fingers lightly playing with the front of his dress shirt.
"It's not a conspiracy when its true," He replied, nose flaring. Before you could react, his fingers found the hem of your shirt. You let out a startled yelp when he swiftly removed them.
"What theâ Why'd you take my shirt?" You frowned, hugging your upper body out of instinct when the cool air met your skin. "And where are you going, mister?"
There was a fleeting silence as Clark disappeared into your shared room. You huffed, confused why your boyfriend was acting oddly all of a sudden. Not long later, a faint rustling could be heard â resulting your eyebrow to shoot up. A sigh left you before you joined your boyfriend and headed to the room.
"Sorry, baby. Need to check on something," He murmured in reply while taking out one of your much older clothes from the wardrobe.
"So...?" A hand went to your hips as you patiently waited for his answer, standing just a few feet away from him.
"You need to stop buying from whichever shop these clothes come from," He firmly said, glancing up briefly before removing all new clothes you bought recently out of the wardrobe.
"Okay, you're starting to freak me out. Talk to me," You walked over to softly massage his shoulders while he was still kneeled on the floor.
"I am sure you are aware of my impeccable eyesight " He started off, earning an amused snort from you.
"Okay and...?"
"What I'm trying to say is that, the only reason why my X-ray vision didn't work while I-" He cleared his throat, catching himself before accidentally exposing himself. "It's not working as well after seeing your clothes which could only mean one thing."
You mouth went ajar when the pieces of the puzzle finally fit. Your flicked your finger onto his forehead when you caught on to what he initially used his powers for.
"First of all, that's very perverted of you." You stated with a playful scowl. "Secondly, you could propose the idea to your editor. Go deep dive and expose the industry!"
"I- Wow- Did not expect that coming out of you," He chuckled, lips now curled upwards as he gently rubbed his forehead to soothe the spot you just flicked.
"Oh honeyyy..." You drawl out the term of endearment used. "Have I never told you how much my friends and I would literally get side track on our conversation and do an extensive search on a random niche topic that piqued our interest?"
And that was how the pair of you ended up spending the rest of the night â cozy in bed while researching whether there were actual reported cases of lead found in clothing.
a/n; special thanks to @undeadd011 for PROOFREADING my fic for me my close and personal venna PROOFREADS so good
you were perched up on his lap toying with the hem of his t-shirt trying your very best to soak up every last moment with your boyfriend before he was off for a trip. the aching loss of his presence would only last a few days but considering your unaddressed codependency, it was far too long for your liking.
he hated being away from you too, which is why his hands were on either side of you, tracing your waist like he hadnât already had every inch of your body memorized.
you tried not to dull the moment, sucking in your tears and staying silent to avoid the voice cracks that were bound to happen. the silence was loud but comforting because you knew he was silent for the same reasons you were, you were both completely comfortable in the silence because you both knew itâs what you needed.
until you got the best idea.
you tried to hide your smirk as you planned how you would present it and how it would go over, though you knew he wouldnât mind, in fact you knew heâd be more than happy with the idea you were very proud of.
he knew you were hiding something both from the way your heartbeat picked up and the way your chin was tucked in which further led to the slow of your fingers on his shirt. he often listened to your heartbeat to calm him, and it was a great way to tell exactly how you were feeling even if you tried to hide it.
âwhat are you thinking about, angel?â he smiled up at you, lightly pinching your sides to get you to look up. you didnât, instead you broke and smiled, eyes still glued to his chest. âmmh, nothing i just have an ideaâ
youâd think heâs a dog and you just said âtreatâ the way he practically perked up in excitement. âtell meâ he didnât even try to hide his excitement as the indents on his cheeks deepened and he adjusted his neck to fully look up at you, giving you his undivided attention.
âwell i know youâre gonna miss me⌠soâ you trailed off âwhat are you gonna do when you miss me?â you asked, purposely adjusting yourself on his lap to tease him. âcall you, listen to your heartbeat if you arenât awake?â he asked, a little clueless as to what you were aiming for.
âno, well yes i just mean when you really miss me you know?â you blinked at him, hands now planted in his stomach. he paused, then breathed once âlook at those pretty pictures you sent me a few weeks ago, or call you of courseâ
you didnât send nudes very often, simply because he was always there in the flesh, but when he slept at his parents' house for the weekend last month you figured youâd try it. âwell what about a video?â he tilted his head curiously, eyes darkening slightly âlike, you know, of usâ
his mouth fell slightly open before he licked his lips and nodded, movement almost unnoticed, like he was in a trance. âi have that old camcorder, you can keep the tape itâs totally safe and i bought something to wear i havenât tried on for you yet so i donât know, i guess i was thinking it could be a treat for you while your away because-â you werenât running out of words and breath as you trailed on.
âyes, yeah honey iâd love thatâ he smiled at you like you were the only person in the word, hands on your cheek as he pulled in to kiss you. you nodded at each other in confirmation before kissing again. ânow go show me what you bought babyâÂ
a few minutes later you were walking out the bathroom, body adorned in black lace and tiny bows. he was sat against the headboard, patiently waiting for your return and when you did his back immediately straighten. his mouth fell open slightly, looking you up and down slowly taking in the sight before him.
âoh baby youâre so beautifulâ he whispered like he was talking to himself. âthank youâ you muttered, tiptoeing to your desk where you opened a drawer where the camcorder was placed.
you pulled it out with a smile, crawling into clarkâs lap. when you were sat on his thighs you turned on the camera, instructing him how to work it.Â
âokay, okay. itâs on yeah?â you nodded âperfect, look at youâ he spoke, pointing the camera to where you sat on him, up to your face slowly. you smiled as he filmed you, waving your hand shyly.
he was mesmerized by you, he almost forgot to speak, too busy trying to catch you in the viewfinder. his free hand found your waist, toying with some frilly lace before he cupped your face and brought you closer. he pointed the camera to the sheets too focused on kissing you before you corrected him.Â
âno! clark the whole point is to film us silly, hereâ you pushed his arm up, tilting the camera to where your faces met. the kiss was soft and slow at first, it was clear he was trying to take in the moment, but that was before you forced your tongue into his mouth. grabbing at his shoulders to pull yourself closer, hand running through his curls as you moaned into his mouth. his hand found its way to your ass, squeezing gently, pressing you closer to the growing bulge in his pants making your hips rock against him.
he hums into your mouth the second your hips move, opening his mouth even wider for you, welcoming your tongue, your touch, and each movement you made above him.Â
within seconds youâre both moaning into each other's mouth, clearly aching for one another as the kiss grows sloppy. heâs suddenly flipping you over so heâs above you, careful to keep the camera pointed at you.
he pulls from the kiss to sit on his knees, pointing the camera to your torso. heâs purposeful as he captures every lace detail he can, his big hand resting on your stomach. he smiles to himself as he films like heâs already excited to watch the tape back.
âso perfect angelâ he whispers, kissing your neck as the camera angles to capture your reaction as his lips connect with your skin. his lips continue to kiss down your body, licking your nipples through the sheer lace of your bra, down to your bellybutton and to the waistline of your panties.
he pulls back after a peck to your mound, sitting up on his knees again, the camera still pointing down at you. âhere, i wanna see your face when i make you comeâ he hands you the camera, already positioned to look at your face. you nod wordlessly with a smile, biting on your lip while you take the camera from his hands.
his fingers hook on either side of your panties, pulling them down and throwing them somewhere in the room for you to find later. he kisses your inner thighs making his way closer and closer to your core. when he reaches it, he licks a stripe up to your clit, pulling off to blow cold breath on your bud making your eyebrows push together and your back arch.Â
he decided to tease you, licking circles around your entrance then kissing your inner thighs, avoiding your clit the best he can and itâs killing him just as much as itâs killing you. he did it all just to hear the desperate drawn out âpleaseâ that leaves your mouth.
he smiles against you before his lips close around your clit, tongue flicking it before his middle finger finds its way to your entrance, circling once, then twice before he eases it in slowly.
âah- fuckâ you moan, camera shaking in your hand as you throw your head back in pleasure. your fingers rake through his hair as he adds a second finger. he makes an effort to make sure the rhythm of his lips match with the pump of his fingers.
he hums into you, satisfied with the noises youâre making. he looks up every so often to make sure the camera is still pointing at your face. thereâs nothing more clark loves than the way your face scrunches up when you come. he loves how vulnerable you are, how he knows heâs the one that makes you feel so good and heâs the only one who gets to see you like this. the second you put this whole recording idea in his head he knew heâd have to get a shot of your face, and he was very satisfied with the shot he was getting.
heâs relentlessly lapping at your cunt, fingers curling at that spongey spot that makes you whimper and your sweaty hand nearly drops the camera on your nose. you tighten your grip, sure not to drop it as his free hand comes up to cup your boob massaging at the fat as he continues to work you to your orgasm.
you look down at his hand before pulling it to your mouth and taking his pointer and middle finger in your mouth with a satisfied hum. you wanted him all over you and nothing beats the salty taste of his sweat on your tongue.
âmmh- mmâ is all you can manage as you pull his fingers deeper into your mouth, your slobber coats his fingers and your chin as you wrap your tongue around his digits. he whimpers against your folds as your mouth moves against him and he nearly loses it just as bad as you do. your teeth dig into his fingers as you get close, hips moving with the rhythm heâs set.
your whimpers grow raw and desperate as your orgasm approaches. his pace continues to ride out your high until you're pushing him away to avoid overstimulation. his fingers leave your mouth slowly and you immediately pull him in for a kiss, ignoring how you can taste yourself on your lips.
the camera now focused on where your lips meet, a low hum from the device meshing with the smack of the kiss. you canât help but hum into the kiss, needily bucking your hips so your clit brushes in the thin fabric of his sweatpants.Â
there's a low rumble that leaves his throat when you grind yourself on his growing bulge. âpleaseâ you whimper, pulling on his curls the way you know he loves, âi need youâ. he exhales against your lips, clearly trying to keep his composure. he pecks your lips once before he does the same to your cheek, then your neck, your navel, then your mound before standing to remove his sweatpants and t-shirt in one go.
selfishly, you point the camera to him, hopeful youâll get to rewatch the tape sometime later. he takes another look at you before grabbing your hips and turning you over in one sweep. he takes the camera from you pointing it where he grabs your hips to pull your ass up in the air, your shoulders still pressed into the mattress.
âyouâre so prettyâ he mutters as his hand comes down to massage the meat of your ass. he trails from the curve of your ass to your slick folds where he separates your slit, intentionally filming the way you clench around nothing. you think you hear clark curse under his breath which is a very rare occurrence but before you can fully process his tip is prodding at your entrance.Â
he takes it slow, inching in slowly to let you adjust to his length. his free hand rests on your hip, slowly pulling you deeper on him as the camera stays steady in the other. he tried his best to keep his cool, take it as slow as possible, so you felt just as good as he did, but his fingers dug into your hips roughly and he bottomed out faster than he intended to. and when he did a shallow whimper left your mouth.
âmâsorry, sorry baby i'll go slow, yeah?â his voice was low and breathy like he couldnât believe what was in front of him. âno, please donât go slowâ you purred, pulling your hips forward until his tip was the only thing left in you before you slammed your hips back until you met his pelvis.
his moan echoed throughout the room as your hips circled, chasing pleasure.Â
continuing to grind yourself into him your rhythms matched, as he drove his hips forward, planting himself in you, you arched deeper into his thrusts. âfuck clarkâ your moans muffled by the bed, which doesnât last long because he says something about wanting to hear you, so you throw your head back before saying his name again.
heâs fucking you senseless, your brain is fuzzy and all u can think about are the intense waves of pleasure heâs sending through your body. you question if thereâs a feeling better than this. each word you babble is nonsense, each thrust builds the puddle growing in your lower belly, each second manages to make you numb because of all the pleasure circulating through your body.Â
he leans down to press tender kisses to your neck, the cool camera pushes into your side temporarily, making you shiver. âyou feel so good baby, doing so good for meâ he whispers it in your ear and you're sure itâs because he knows how close heâs pushing you to the edge.
he gently kisses behind your ear before grabbing your chin so he can kiss you. your jaw is slack, drool pudding on the pillow beneath you. all you can manage is weak noises from the bass if your throat. he pulls away then, sat back on his knees and the camera pointed to the ripples of your ass.
âah- fuck i need to see your face babyâ he says before somehow managing to say inside you while flipping you over to your back all while the camera stays in his other hand.
your eyes have widened, shocked from the way he just manhandled you and he doesnât have a drop of sweat to prove it, he just⌠glistens.Â
the shock wears off quickly because suddenly all you can think about is the hand running up your torso and to your tit where he massages gently. his hips begin to thrust again settling in the rhythm he had just moments before.
the hand once at your tit is now at your mound, his palm pressing down on your lower belly while his thumb rubs tight rough circles into your clit.Â
in a blink your seeing stars, your head is blank and you let yourself get blissfully lost in the pleasure. âclark, clarkâ you whimper because thatâs all the warning you can give.
youâre coming for the second time that day. your thighs tremble when your back arches up and your head is thrown back. your body tenses up before fully relaxing in a way only possible from clark fucking you.
he continues to rub at your clit even after youâve come, even though he knows how sensitive you get. he kisses you then, carefully tossing the camera somewhere in the bed because he truly only cared to get your orgasm on camera.Â
he gasps against your lips before heâs twitching inside of you and spilling hot spurts of cum inside you. the second he sucks in just enough breath he kisses you again, pulling away from your clit in hopes to stop the shake in your leg caused by the overstimulation.
you stay there for a few breaths, chest to chest feeling every breath you have each other. he pulls from your neck to look at you, his eyes dragging from your chin to your cheek, nose, forehead, then your eyes which pulls a smile from his lips, the deep indents on his cheeks making you smile just at hard.
he kisses you once, then twice then suddenly heâs peppering kisses all over your face until and giggling. when he sees the smile settle on your face he pulls back to really look at you, unaware that the camera he threw on the bed is perfectly angled to capture the moment.
âi love youâ he says it like itâs the first time all over again, like when he first woke up he dedicated his was the day to truly tell you how he felt and he spent the day nervous to find the right time to tell you.
and it warms your heart because you know just how much he means it and you feel the same way. âi love you tooâ you whisper, kissing his nose.
a moment passes before you turn your head toward the camera and click it off. you canât wait to rewatch it when clark gets back home.
explicit 18+, size kink, grow-er clark the thought is soooo horny and yummy that clark could be a big grower and not as much a show-er. the first time you see his naked dick itâs soft, very un-proportional to his thick thighs and his wide shoulders and tall height. but you still know youâll have a fun time riding him and he could still hit your g spot easily. itâs more cute than anything. pink and floppy and fun size.
but then you see him get hard for the first time and itâs like fucking magic. his balls start to sag, his dick elongates up four inches bigger than before. his veins pulse and throb and it viciously smacks up against his thigh, wet with gooey precum at his tip. itâs gargantuan and so deliciously deceiving how much he grows from soft to hard and how you feel it thicken while he smoothes his early thrusts inside your walls. and heâs so girthy and long you canât stop creaming on his dick when you find out how big he becomes when heâs really excited. it becomes your mission to get him hard as fuck whenever you feel like it whether the timing or the setting was appropriate or not, just to watch his dick print grow and strain so tight in any pants he could be wearing
hi bb obsessed with your writing it is just delicious
do you think we could ever get just the most feral dom!clark spanking? I just know you would absolutely fucking eatďżźďżź
[explicit 18+] some spanking until the red handprints are throbbing
Clark makes sure he starts softly. Gently massages any tense muscle that lives inside her limbs until sheâs looser, buttered up, relaxed. Overwhelming her with turning so mean so fast doesnât sit right with Clarkâs softer, sensitive heart.
He kisses her ear and whispers to her that sheâs always upsettingly beautiful like this before each peck, suckling on the side of her neck while heâs still rolling his huge palms down into her back.
She feels soothed when he treats her like his fragile, delicate lady for all of twenty minutes up until she throws that knowing grin behind her back that urges him to start to get a little mean on her. To turn that domineering switch up that heâs only ever pulled for her after only showing the world the side that is his dorky, gentle-giant persona. After hours spent with plenty discussions about boundaries, safe words, and aftercare, the boyish dimpled smile turns into something more tight mouthed, simultaneously angry and focused looking furrowed in his brows. His touch turns forceful, his commands now precise and direct, and god forbid she disobeyed any of those precise direct instructions.
âYou ready for some rougher playtime?â
âIâve been waiting.â
âCourse you have, brat,â he scoffs a laugh, kissing a trail down her spine until his face is inches from her naked ass. He grabs each cheek and squeezed until his pressure and strength left some minor red marks that were in the shape of his fingers. He kept that grip tight while he bit into the soft flesh, playfully humming while she laughed and squealed above him, legs kicking in the air. He grabs them both by each ankle, nearly slamming them back down to the bed with a low growl of âuh-uh. youâre sâpposed to stay.â
She sighs and he could already tell she was rolling her eyes into the pillow, wiggling her toes in his grip. âCâmon. You gonna finally do something about it then, stud?â
âIf you rush me you know what happens. Youâre asking for trouble little lady,â he tisks, biting down again on the other cheek to leave a mark with his teeth. She laughs like sheâs giddy for her punishment, like it tickled her when he turned on this other side of him.
âIâm asking for you to turn me over and get to fucking me already.â
Clark sits back up and snatches her by the waist to heave her into another position, ass sticking out now while she was on both knees, face still stuck in her pillow.
âAnd youâre not asking me very nicely, so weâre gonna do this my way until you remember how this goes. Ass stays up, you hear me?â
She huffs into her pillow and without another beat in between he lands a sharp, quick slap on one of her cheeks, the skin flushed under the whip. She complains with a light âowwwâ and still didnât answer. So he goes in again, same cheek, another full hand print of evidence.
âI said do you hear me?â
âOw, yes, yeah, jeez⌠I heard you.â
âI still donât think you do, baby, I think you need a few more reminders,â he soothes both his hands over her hips, making sure she stays firmly in position and massaged the globes of her ass. He doesnât prepare her again for the next spank, catching the other ass cheek with a loud, hard smack that echoed in the room. Leaving her whimpering and quivering before quickly getting back into position for him. Clark smiles and bites his lower lip a bit, bending forwards so his clothed crotch could teasingly rut for a bit right up against her tender ass.
âShhh. Yeah. Atta girl. Atta girl, staying bent over like this for me. Feel that?â
He grinds his bulge side to side against her opening, getting some of her slick stained on the outside of his sweats.
âThatâll be your reward after youâve been a good girl for me,â Clark explained. Still rutting against her slowly, guiding one of his middle fingers over to her front to tickle the hood of her clit. She hums with obvious appreciation, rutting back against his dick before he stills her hips with those sure hands.
âNot yet. Uh-uh. Not happening.â
She winces at his tone and stuffs her face back into the pillow, trying to keep her hips still for him again. He clenched his jaw and rubs her ass with both his hands again, gearing her up for another round of spankings.
âAre you gonna be my good girl and behave?â
âYes, Iâm gonna⌠Iâll be your good girl. I promise.â
âThatâs perfect, baby. A few more. Just a few more. You need to learn is all,â he assures, cooing so gently in her ear that she felt how hard her heart was beating in her stomach. The slick between her lips couldâve started gushing down to the sheets any moment now by the slow, commanding way he speaks when heâs in this more dominant mode.
He knows his role, knows when to keep pushing her and when to step back and be gentle again. It was an art, a dance, a delicate yin and yang of finding the balance between both to fill all of her needs. And when to deny all of her wants to keep her bowing down for more and more.
She squealed when the next spank hits, wincing from the rough blows he used yet still wagging her ass back and forth to beckon him for another one. He eagerly spanks her again in pairs, soothing each slap with a pat and even leaning down to give her asshole a little kiss for surviving through so much.
He counts the next five thwacks as her whole body shivers through each, salty tears drifting down from her eyes and soaking some of the pillow. He shushes her and kisses each cheek again before his last quick ten slaps, watching the exhausted skin get puffy and red from the smacks. Her pussy started leaking so much it connected a thick string to the palm of his hand when one spank happened to land straight on the lips of her pussy, spreading them out from the impact. She cried the loudest after the particular one, and by the desperate, hushed sound of it, Clark knows sheâs deep in her submissive headspace now, and sheâs ready to be cradled and loved again.
He slowly turns her over to brace her body back into his arms, pulling her closer so sheâs sat on his lap. When she sits down he hears the gasp of pain from all the swats sheâs endured on her ass, hovering to not make direct contact with her tender skin. Her limbs automatically wrap around his waist and she cries into his neck while her arms brace his biceps tight for a hug.
Clark puts everything in his aftercare, kissing her face and tells her how proud he is to be hers, how incredible she is for having so much resilience and restraint. As gentle as can be, he cups both her stained red cheeks and lets her seat herself directly into his palms, coos in her ear that everything is gonna be okay, that heâll take good care of her.
âYou were phenomenal, baby. You took all of them like I knew my girl could. You never disappoint me, you never let me down,â he whispers, long kisses laid on both her temples while she breathed deeply, in and out as he guides her through the comedown. He can tell her head is still buzzing with all that adrenaline and shock in her system.
âMy number one girl. My perfect thing. You need some rest, baby? Need an ice pack?â
She managed a slight nod that communicated everything to him he needed to know. She whines with her thick throat to plead that he doesnât leave her and he swears that he wonât, getting up and carrying her bridal style to the kitchen and resting her on her side at the couch. Rips the freezer door open to find a cooling pack and speed walks back over to her, gently pressing it onto her sore ass and watching her reaction with tense intent.
After a few quiet moments of him still littering kisses over her thighs and telling her how amazing sheâs been, heâs surprised when her little voice first spoke up.
âMâgonna get the ice pack all messy,â she murmurs. Finally able to put on a smile. Clark can already tell her slick coated a bit of the ice pack, switching off each cheek so she didnât get too cold that it hurt. A laugh bubbles out from his gut, biting down on his lower lip and laying a wet kiss on one of her hips.
âThat doesnât matter. Donât think about it. Relax, honey. You just went through so muchâŚâ
âBut I want you,â she begs, pulling on the neck of his shirt to have him closer.
âYou have me. You have me,â he mutters. âStill sore? You still wanna feel me?â
âYes,â she whispers. Brings a warm hand to his and tugs him to lay on top of her, Clark hovering to hold up most of his weight. Their lips meet in the middle before they start licking into each otherâs mouths, spit getting swallowed and shared between each. He finds himself rubbing against her middle the deeper each kiss gets, drenching his length with her arousal as he slides through her lips.
âYou always get so wet like this after getting spanked,â Clark laughs. âWant me to act so strict, so meanâŚâ
âItâs really sexy when you boss me around, punish me. Come on, put it in and hit me again.â
Clark pulls away and studies her face, wide eyed and grinning in disbelief. âYou serious? Youâre still so red, baby, itâll hurt you.â
âThatâs the point,â she emphasizes. Grabs ahold of his tip to point it at her opening, stroking loosely and planting more kisses on his neck. When heâs inside he pumps slowly, sharing each otherâs oxygen with heavy pants between their mouths. He feels her insides tighten on him and her hand squeeze his bicep, trying to signal her needs to him.
With a long moment to observe her face, her body language, and her beaten up ass, he sighs and kisses on her neck before pulling back and landing a nice, easy slap on a cheek as he continuously moves inside her. She winced and implores him for more, sticking her ass out toward him and wrapping a leg around his hip. He watches her with awe while he spanks her again, and again, and again, while her pussy creams a fresh mess all over the base of his dick.
He has to pull out until just the tip is inside for the next several round of spanks, coming too close to finishing prematurely while she keens like a slut thatâs been catapulted to heaven from the blissful mixtures of pleasure and pain. She tries to sink back down on him in protest, to push him back inside as deep as he was with the help of her messy slick between them. Her ass hasnât been this sore or burned up in a long, long while - all his handprints a delicate marking of everything heâs done to her. She humps against him for the last few spankings and cums with her clit sliding up against his girth, clenching down even more as he soothes her skin with his giant gentle palms.
Clark asks her if she feels better, if sheâs finally sated.
âYou didnât cum yet.â
He laughs, turns over and covers his eyes with his wrist. After a small beat he swiftly gets back up without a second thought and mounts himself right back on top, trapping her underneath him while she lies on her belly.
Grabbing hold of his cock, he begins stroking, grazing her puffy pink ass with the tip. âI could mark your ass again, this time with some cum. Sâthat sound nice? What do you think?â
She wiggles her ass beneath him, like her tail was wagging just thinking about his claim getting splattered all over her already abused ass. It was a no brainer what she thought. She almost wants to bite back that heâs stupid for even asking when he knows what the answer always is.
Instead a slew of whines uncontrollably roll out with every stroke, every time his tip lines back up with her slit. He squeezes an ass cheek and revels in the reactionary noise, hearing her squeal and chase his dick with her opening.
âShhh, keep it down a little. You know I love your pretty noises, just be a good girl for me. Itâs coming.â
. . .
yum so why this took me forever to just get done is beyond me. Iâm tired of looking at it so Iâll just post it
Imagine Clark Kent planning to propose to reader, but he gets so flustered and nervous that when he kneels, all he can muster is a desperate, breathy, âPlease.â Saw this idea from a woman sharing her proposal story on twitter!! đŤŚđŤŚđ¤¤đ¤¤
The star that leads to you
Pairing: corenswet!clark kent x fem!reader
⥠Main Index | ⥠Archive for Earth-181938
a/n: The plan was for this to be 5k words long TOPS but i'm a bottom so...
Classification: (Suggestive) Fluff | Moderate workplace PDA, suggestive comments and explicit/implied sex scenes w/superpowered intimacy (destruction of the bed), normal relationship anxiety and overthinking, sci-fi talk and kryptonite exposure, use of superpowers in daily life.
Word count: 10,3k
Divider by me ;)
The days leading up to any leave or holiday were always the most chaotic. In journalism, there was no such thing as getting ahead. No matter how many drafts you filed, how many interviews you wrapped up or how many loose ends you tied off, the work simply piled up somewhere else, waiting for your attention.
You made your way through the bullpen with Jimmy trailing closely behind. For the past few days, a persistent unease had settled beneath your skin. Everyone seemed to need something from you before you left, another question, task or last-minute request, and on top of that, you couldn't shake the feeling of being watched.Â
Eyes appeared to follow you wherever you went.
Right now, though, the only thing demanding your attention was Jimmy's steadily rising panic.
"IâŚI can't do that." He shook his head again, likely for the hundredth time that morning.
"Jimmy, it's just my email." You stopped at the coffee station, reaching for your mug and filling it. "All I'm asking is that you log in once a day, check if anything's worth investigating and follow up if necessary." You stirred your coffee before lifting your eyes to him. "You won't have much to doâŚLois will be helping too."
"What do I do if he contacts you?" Jimmy asked quietly, watching your hands move with nervous intensity.
"What if who contacts me?" you asked, only sparing him a brief glance.
"You know." He shrugged. "Superman."
A laugh escaped you as you picked up your mug and started back toward your desk, taking a sip as you walked. "You think Big Blue has an email address?"
"IâŚ" Jimmy frowned as he tried to explain himself. "Well, I believe he's a modern man."
You snorted into your coffee.
"Who knows," he continued. "Maybe he'll want to meet up. ToâŚtalk."
You stopped beside your desk and turned to face him fully, narrowing your eyes. "About what?"
"I don't know." Jimmy lifted both hands. "Whatever it is you two usually talk about."
"Sure, Jimmy. Maybe he'll need help setting up an email account." You nodded thoughtfully. "Let's just hope nothing too big happens while I'm gone so I can enjoy some uninterrupted rest."Â
As you spoke, your gaze drifted across the bullpen and landed on Clark.
Your eyes narrowed immediately at his staring but the moment your eyes met, he jerked into motion. His attention snapped downward as he began fumbling with the papers on his desk, shuffling folders that clearly didn't need sorting and reaching for things that weren't there.
You had only held his gaze for all of two seconds before he folded completely under it, which was suspicious. Your attention lingered on him even as Jimmy continued talking.
"Alright, but just in case, tell him I'm perfectly fine with meeting in dark alleys during pouring rain and all that." Jimmy nodded once, looking entirely too eager for the possibility.
"He's more of a rooftop kind of guy, but I'll pass the message along." The reply came automatically, your focus already elsewhere. âThanks Jimmy.â
Your gaze dropped to your own desk as Jimmy finally wandered off. Taking your seat, you looked over the organized chaos spread across the surface and got to work clearing away the last of it, though most of the clutter simply disappeared into drawers and folders. You wanted to return to a clean workspace, not a disaster waiting for you after a week away.
Your final drafts had already been submitted and every article due before your leave had been filed and approved. There were still two hours until lunch and for the first time in days, there was nothing immediately demanding your attention.
You intended for the following week to be dedicated entirely to rest. Well, rest and unpacking the mountain of moving boxes currently occupying Clark's apartment, which was now yours too.
The thought alone made you look up.
Clark now sat perfectly still at his desk, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the bullpen. His head was tilted slightly, his attention caught by something none of the rest of you could hear. If there was one thing you'd learned about him, it was that there usually was something, a distant cry for help, an emergency unfolding miles away or a hundred voices filtering through the world at once.
You watched him for a moment until he rose from his chair, the movement quick and purposeful. He reached for his messenger bag, slinging the strap over his shoulder as he stepped around his desk, his eyes finding yours immediately.
The look was familiar, it was the same one he always gave you right before disappearing. You pushed yourself to your feet and followed after him, weaving through the bullpen until the two of you reached one of the quieter hallways.
"How bad is it?" you asked worriedly.
The question and tone had nothing to do with your upcoming week off. You were never worried about canceled plans, you were worried about Metropolis. If Superman was needed in the middle of a workday, something somewhere had gone terribly wrong.
Clark suddenly turned and you barely had time to react.
The momentum of your hurried pace carried you directly into his chest and as always, the impact barely moved him. Before you could stumble back, his arms were already wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer as he dipped his head and pressed his lips to yours.
It caught you completely off guard. You knew kissing with your eyes open wasn't particularly romantic but you couldn't help the way they widened in surprise. For a moment, all you could do was stare at him as you failed to kiss him back.
Only when he pulled away did you finally speak. "That bad?" you asked, eyes searching his face frantically.
Clark blinked as his brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"You have to go to your other thing, right?" You gestured vaguely. "I know you heard something."
The confusion on his face matched your own. Still, his arms remained around you.
"I did." He forced himself to pause and collect his thoughts because keeping things from you had never gotten easier. "It isn't bad, sweetheart. I just need to go check it out."
At the same moment, footsteps echoed from farther down the hallway, so he reluctantly released you. Neither of you was particularly interested in becoming a more serious conversation for Human Resources yet.Â
You cleared your throat as Clark adjusted the strap of his bag and the silence stretched until the employee rounded the corner and disappeared again.
"Will you be long?"Â
"I'm not sure." He shook his head softly.
You nodded. "Be safeâŚI'll cover for you."Â
Your hand came up to pat his chest before you stepped back. Already turning toward the bullpen, you glanced down at your watch, mentally calculating how many hours "checking something out" usually translated into but a few steps later, another thought occurred to you.Â
"Oh⌠anything special I should make for diâ" You turned to face him just as a rush of wind swept through the hallway. Your words died instantly and the corridor stood empty, Clark now gone. You sighed. "Takeout it is."Â
Muttering to yourself, you turned and headed back toward the bullpen.
Lately, Clark had been acting strange, not in the usual "I'm the last son of a dead planet" kind of way. This was different, he was distracted, restless and keeping himself busier than usual. At first, you'd assumed it had something to do with the upcoming week off. Maybe he felt guilty about stepping away from work for that long and the idea of slowing down made him uneasy, but you'd made it clear more than once that the vacation wasn't meant to be a break from who he really was.
You would never ask that of him. Clark Kent could take a week off but Superman never truly could, which only made his recent behavior feel all the more unusual.
You supposed your concern must have been written all over your face.
"Where is he?" Lois stopped in front of Clark's desk, a thick folder tucked beneath her arm.
The question snapped your attention away from his absence. Straightening your shoulders, you forced your expression into something more neutral before walking over.
"His parents needed him at the farm." You motioned vaguely toward the elevators.
Lois looked unconvinced. "He was supposed to send Perry a final draft for tomorrow's print edition."
"Is that it?" You pointed toward the folder she held. She barely lifted it before you plucked it from her grasp and pivoted back toward your desk. "I'll do it."
You dropped into your chair and opened the file immediately.
"It isn't exactly impartial." Lois crossed her arms.
"It never will be, Lois." You flipped through the first few pages of his notes. "We're about to move in together and I doubt he'd react particularly well to me firing him when I become Editor-in-Chief."
Your grin finally earned a small laugh from her.
"Besides," you continued, glancing back down at the paperwork, "I need something to do, otherwise today is going to feel even longer than it already does."
The humor faded from her face. "Is something wrong?" Her voice lowered enough that the question felt genuine rather than curious.
You opened your mouth, then stopped. For a moment, you simply stared down at the pages in front of you. "I don't know. I'm usually really good at reading him." Your fingers paused against the pages. "But I just can't do it."
"You can't?" The surprise in her voice was immediate as she settled herself on the corner of your desk. "You think it's about the two of you moving in together?" she asked. "If it is, don't. You've been together for so longâŚmost people would've expected you to move in together the second you both got to Metropolis."
A soft laugh escaped you. "No. No, that's not itâŚI mean, I hope not." You leaned back in your chair. "It's all going well." The words came easily because they were true. "As much as I love him, moving in with my first ever boyfriend straight out of college would've been a terrible idea."
Your smile softened. "We learned how to live separately firstâŚhow to have our own lives. I think that was the right decision and I know he does too."
Lois nodded. "So what's the problem?"
You hesitated, then cleared your throat and rolled your chair a little closer, lowering your voice despite the noise of the bullpen around you. "Have you ever wanted something so badly that you're afraid to call it what it is?"
Her brows knitted together. "Is that supposed to be a riddle?"
You laughed despite yourself. "No." Your gaze drifted away, settling somewhere beyond the bullpen. "There's something I want this whole situation to be..." The words felt strangely fragile once spoken aloud, like giving them a voice somehow made them more real. "What if I start asking the questions I want to ask and find out it isn't?" Your fingers toyed absently with the edge of the folder. "Then I'd be mad at him for not wanting to move at the pace I want to move at."
Lois watched you carefully and for once, she didn't rush to answer. "This isn't a race."
A small smile tugged at your mouth before quickly fading. "If it were, he'd winâŚI just wish I knew what we're running toward now." Your voice dropped quieter. "And if he still wants to get there with meâŚprecisely."
You let out a long breath, hoping it would carry away some of the anxiety that had been nesting in your chest for weeks. The truth was, you had never once believed Clark would leave you, that fear had never existed.
You knew how he looked at you when he thought you weren't paying attention, you knew the certainty behind every promise he made, every plan he included you in and every future conversation that naturally assumed you'd be standing beside him.
The fear wasn't losing him, it was timing and getting it wrong.
Had moving in together been too soon? Was he having second thoughts now that it was actually happening? Maybe he simply wasn't ready to leave behind living alone, he needed more time before taking another step forward and the answer was that simpleâŚOr maybe you were working yourself into knots over something that had never crossed his mind at all.
"You're one hell of a reporter, Y/n." A smile tugged at the corner of Lois's mouth. "I've never known you to hesitate when it comes to asking questions."
She pushed herself off the desk and headed back toward her own.Â
The conversation ended there but her words lingered as your eyes wandered across the bullpen again and they landed, inevitably, on Clark's empty desk.Â
His abandoned coffee cup still sat beside his keyboard and a stack of notes remained exactly where he'd left them. Everything still looked normal, so why didn't it feel that way?
You couldn't keep living with the uncertainty and maybe it was time to stop dancing around the questions that had been circling your mind for months, but as much as you wanted answers, you'd never been someone who forced them out of Clark, never someone who cornered him into confessions he wasn't ready to make.
Your gaze lingered on the empty desk for another moment before moving to the clock. Only five more hours and you'd finally be out of this place.
Clark flew to the Fortress of Solitude at a speed he'd never thought he could reach, responding to a signal from the Superman robots. He absolutely hated hiding things from you, no matter how good the reason but this was taking longer than planned. It didn't just involve the usual planning and sourcing, this was as close to science as he'd ever get.
The cold arctic air caressed his skin as he sped up, the crystalline structure growing in the distance as it revealed itself to him.
His feet eventually sank into the snow as the doors parted before him. The Fortress received him the way it always did, silently, the crystals catching his footsteps and scattering them into nothing. Four was already standing at the central console, two of the other robots positioned at the secondary array flanking what Clark recognized as the solar concentrator, reconfigured into something smaller and more precise than he'd last seen it.
"Sir, you're here." Gary, the fourth Superman robot, turned before Clark had fully cleared the entrance.
"I got your signal," Clark told him as he moved to the center of the main room.
"I calculated twenty minutes before your arrival." Four's optical sensors held on him a moment.
Clark didn't answer. He crossed closer to the console, eyes already moving over the readings. "Tell me."
Gary turned back to the array. "The theory is sound. Whether the application holds is a separate question." He indicated the containment chamber at the center of the concentrator, it was small, built for a single stone. "The isotope that produces the radiation is not inert by nature, it requires destabilization. Conventional neutralization attempts have failed historically because they addressed the emission rather than the source."
Clarkâs brows furrowed. "You went after the isotope directly."
"We modeled different broad approaches over the last year. Sixteen produced either incomplete neutralization or structural destruction of the sample." Gary paused. "The seventeenth is this. Concentrated solar saturation at a specific frequency, not broad spectrum, which scatters. The isotope absorbs until it cannot sustain the radioactive chain. It burns out rather than being suppressed."
He looked at the chamber. "And the stone?"
"Structurally intact in our simulations. The color will change, the green is a function of the active radiation. Once the isotope is spent, the stone retains its crystalline structure but loses the glow. It will read as paleâŚresidual hue only."
Clark was quiet for a moment. "You said it would only work on a very small piece."
"Correct. The solar saturation has to penetrate the sample completely and evenly. A larger stone creates differential exposure, the exterior burns out and the interior remains active. At the scale you requireâ" Gary moved to the secondary console and brought up the dimensional rendering, a stone large enough to yield a single, flawless diamond. ââfull penetration is achievable. We have run the model four hundred and twelve times over the last hour."
"And it holds?"
"In simulation. Yes." Another beat. "We will not know with certainty until we attempt it on an actual sample."
Clark exhaled slowly, he'd known that was coming.
"You cannot be present for the extraction phase," Gary continued, without inflection, as if this were simply logistical. "Or the initial handling. Your proximity to an active sample at that size would still produce symptomatic response. We will handle and chamber the stone. You will monitor from the secondary console at a distance of approximately fifteen feet. Once it is inside the concentrator and sealed, the chamber will contain the emission. You can approach then."
"And the concentratorâ" Clark glanced at the machine. "Same as the healing protocol?"
"Modified from it. The frequency is different as healing requires broad cellular stimulation. This requires narrow isotopic targeting but the core mechanism is the same." Gary looked at him directly. "It should not harm you. The chamber is sealed, the emission goes inward, not out...but again, itâs a hypothetical."
Clark nodded once. He stood there a moment, looking at the small containment chamber and the re-rigged concentrator, itâd been a year of work sitting quiet and precise on a console in the Arctic.
"You've been thorough," he said finally.
"You were specific about what it needed to mean, sir." Gary nodded, as Clark turned to look at him. "When you told me what the ring was for," He continued. "I did not think imprecision was appropriate."
"And the piece I chose?" Clark asked, looking around for it.
One of the other Superman robots pushed a closed lead box onto the console. "Still untouched, sir." Twelve nodded. "As are the other uncut stones, as you requested."
"The band?" Clark asked as One approached, opening a chamber on his own structure and revealing it.
Clark reached for it and held it up to the light between his fingers. He still remembered waiting for you to fall asleep so he could measure your ring finger, holding his breath the entire time, terrified you might wake and catch him in the act. The memory made warmth settle in his chest.
"It's perfect," he said quietly.
"It must be, sir. You've been working on it for almost a year," Gary spoke.
"And it's finally done."
Gary lifted a cautionary finger. "Remember there are still hypotheticals, sir. We must test the machine."
Clark shook his head. "It's going to work and when it does, I want her here for it." He turned to look around the Fortress, taking in the crystalline walls, the hum of advanced technology and the sanctity of the space. "You know the plan." His gaze swept across the main chamber. "I want this place spotless and the sunglasses ready." He drew a breath, letting the weight of the moment settle over him. "The day has comeâŚI canât wait any longer." He turned back to the robots. "Thank you, all of you."
"No need to thank us, sir, as we will not appreciate it. We have no consciousness, we are merely automatons here to serve," Gary reminded him.
Clark simply pressed his mouth into a thin line, long accustomed to their peculiar bluntness while some of the Superman robots scurried away, already beginning to clean. Gary, however, lingered.
"Shall we prepare for the baby?"
Clark's head snapped toward him, eyes slightly widened. "What baby?"
"My knowledge indicates it is a natural succession of events, sir."
He smiled despite himself, shaking his head. "Let's prepare for a ceremony firstâŚThat's if she says yes."
"She will," Twelve said brightly in passing, already carrying a stack of crystalline components toward the secondary console.
"Shall we rehearse the speech?" Gary pressed. "We have yet to hear it."
"No can do, Gary." Clark's voice was gentle but final. "And you won't...Itâll be for her ears only."
He stuck around long after, helping clean and organize with no real need other than the comfort of keeping his hands busy. He had thought about the day plenty, in the small hours of the morning when sleep wouldn't come, during long flights over empty ocean and in the moments just after saving the world when everything went quiet again. He had imagined it a hundred different ways, in a hundred different places and it had to be perfect.
You got home late, stopped at the door as you still couldn't quite figure out how the new lock worked. After a moment of fumbling that felt much longer than it should have, you finally managed to push inside, carrying takeout bags and immediately running into scattered moving boxes in the dark.
"Fuck," you muttered under your breath as you reached for a light switch and turned it on. "Clark?" You called into the silence of the apartment, leaving the bags on the kitchen counter.Â
You then walked toward the bedroom, weaving around moving boxes you'd take care of soon, phone already in your hand as you dialed his number.
You pressed call, setting the phone on the bed as you began to undress.
Back at the FortressâŚ
"Superman, we have intercepted a call from your human lover."
Clark chuckled, shaking his head as he moved gear out of the main room. "There's no other kind, Gary. It's just 'lover.' Please, patch it through."
There was a soft crackle and then, "Clark?â Your voice slipped through the sound systems, warm and familiar and Clark felt the anxiety in his chest ease at the sound of it.
"Hi, sweetheart. Everything okay?"Â
"Uh, yeah. Where are you? I'm at yourâ" A pause, then a quiet correction. "Our place...Any idea when you'll be back? It's starting to get late."
Clark realized then that he'd lost track of time completely. He began heading toward the exit, your voice trailing after him as you launched into what was clearly the beginning of a longer rant. The sound of you faded from the Fortress's speakers and transferred directly into his ears as he lifted off, flying fast in the direction of your voice.
He heard you kicking off your shoes and the soft thump of your pants hitting the floor.
"I'm not saying I'm worried and I don't expect you to always be back at a certain timeâŚThat's just not reasonable. I mean, I knew what I was getting into before we ever started datingâ" Then came the sound of the closet door sliding open as you were surely, definitely, picking a shirt of his to sleep in. "Not that it's complicated or anything. I feel like that word has never really applied to us. I mean, I hope not. You've never been complicated to me, even after you told me who you really were."
He heard the rustle of fabric as you peeled off your shirt and the soft sound of your bra hitting the floor. Clark flew even faster.
"I remember telling you Kal was a pretty good name," you said and he could hear the smile in your voice. You cleared your throat, "I also remember that one time I moaned it while we wereâ"
A faint breeze drifted through the room, making you turn to the window to check if it was open. You suddenly screamed, shirt clutched to cover your naked chest as your heart hammered so loud he could count every individual beat.
Clark unexpectedly stood there unmoving and smiling unapologetically, hair slightly messy from the flight. "Having sex?" He continued for you, grin widening. "I also remember."Â
You exhaled a sharp breath, rapidly pulling his shirt over your head, feeling his eyes on you, "I get carried away."
He shrugged, still grinning. "It's happened more than once."
Your eyes narrowed at him, already desperate to change the subject. "Mind making a little more noise next time? I intend to live long."
He stepped toward you, wrapping both arms around you and pulling you to his chest. "You make enough noise for the both of us, don't you think?"
"Ha. Funny." You said dryly because it was true. Once close to him, you felt his chest while observing his face as you always did, checking for injuries. He looked untouched, which was always ideal, but⌠"You're really cold."
He smiled and something changed in his expression. "Do you know where you packed the winter clothes?"
You blinked, eyes going to the moving boxes and suitcases scattered across the bedroom, your mind already cataloging the rest of the clutter throughout the apartment. "I'm not sure. Why?"
Clark let go of you, eyes scanning through the boxes as he activated his x-ray vision.
"It's about to be summer, SmallvilleâŚAnd I don't think you've ever needed them."
He walked out of the bedroom, looking into boxes as you trailed behind him, accidentally stepping on the long cape pooled at his feet.
"Oops, sorry," you muttered as you coughed yourself with a gentle hold on his shoulders.
"You're going to need them."
"Need what? Apologies?" you asked, lifting a brow.
"Winter clothes," he specified with a breathy chuckle, stopping by a box that read âKitchenâ in your handwriting.
"In June?" You watched as he opened the box anyway. "That says âKitchenâ, Clark."
He fumbled for a second as he lifted it from a pile and put it on the ground, then he carefully opened it and pulled out your winter coat by the hood.
"That's why it was so light," you said under your breath.
"We're taking a trip tomorrow."
Your eyes widened slightly as you searched his face and found no humor there. "Did you use that little trick to find my passport and book the trip?"
"Never needed a passport to fly Clark Kent Airlines." He grinned.
"Never needed a coat to sit on a plane." You shrugged with a gentle smile. "Where are we going?"
Clark's smile faltered. His eyes searched the room, looking for anything to change the subject and landed on the takeout bags still sitting on the kitchen counter. "We should eat dinner before it gets too cold," he said, already reaching into the box and pulling out a scarf, hat and gloves. "You'll need your snow boots too." He set everything on the couch, almost distractedly and walked right past you into the bedroom, already peeling off his suit.
Your eyes followed him, narrowing at the deflection. "Good thing we have a microwave." You noted as you followed after him. "You've been acting weird lately."
"Weird?" He echoed with a light, forced chuckle. "There's nothing weird about meâŚBesides the obvious." He paused, pulling his shirt over his head. "Which you like telling me you love." There was another pause, longer this time. "You still do, right?"
"You mean the part of you that likes to take me along while soaring through the sky?" You questioned hypothetically, already nodding to yourself. "Yeah."
"That's goodâŚThatâs really good." He reassured himself more than you as he changed into a plain shirt and plaid pajama pants. "That you still do."
"I don't like how you keep saying 'still,'" you pointed out quietly, looking at him as if you could read his mindâŚand you probably could, if you werenât suddenly scared of what you might find.
He chuckled breathily, stepping toward you and placing both hands on your arms, caressing them gently. "You're making me really nervous right now."
You narrowed your eyes at him again. "I weirdly think you're doing that to yourself." You paused, letting the words settle. "I love you, ClarkâŚNo amount of weirdness is going to change that."
His hands went to your face, cupping your cheeks slowly, thumbs brushing over your skin with so much love in his eyes that it made your chest ache. Tomorrow had to be perfect..because you were.
"I'll fly slowly," he murmured, in an attempt to reassure you.
"No, you won'tâŚand thatâs fine," You laughed softly, poking his stomach playfully. "Just make sure you hold me tight."
He pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead that lingered long enough to make your eyes flutter shut. "I love you so much," he confessed against your skin. "I don't know how to hold you any other way."
Moments like that had a way of dissolving whatever fear or doubt had quietly accumulated and that night was no different. By the time you had dinner and you'd both found your way to sleep, there was nothing left to worry about.
The next morning was perfect. Genuinely and unqualifiedly perfect, the kind that felt almost unfair in how completely it arrived. No alarm pulled you out of it, no distant sound of something collapsing somewhere that would take him away before you'd finished waking up, just sunlight coming in at an angle through the curtains and Clark, who woke up like he had nowhere else to be and no intention of pretending otherwise.Â
He pressed kisses into your skin slowly and without urgency and the morning dissolved the way good mornings do, in warmth, weight and the breathlessness of someone who loves you, knows how to show itâŚand how to make you feel it. You lost track of time entirely and you didn't try to find it.
At some point he slipped away. You hadn't noticed the exact moment, sometime in the narrow window between you getting up and the shower warming, enough time for him to go somewhere and come back, which for Clark could mean almost anywhere. When you stepped out of the bathroom, towel around your chest, a bouquet was sitting on the kitchen counter and beside it, breakfast, already plated and still warm.
You ate together at the counter, knees touching, talking through where the art should go and whether the bookshelf fit better against the east wall or broken up between two rooms.Â
It wasn't much later that he started mentioning getting out for the day.
You didn't question it. You started getting everything he'd laid on the couch the night before, working through the layers methodically while he stood somewhere behind you watching you with an expression you couldn't fully read.
"I think you should add another scarf," he suggested. "Just in case."
You looked at yourself in the mirror, at the coat, hat, gloves, boots and the scarf that already looped twice around your neck⌠and it was June. "Clark." You turned to look at him with a gentle, reassuring smile. "This is enoughâŚYou'd think we were going to the Arctic."
You meant it as a joke. You were already smiling when you said it, turning back to the mirror to adjust the hat which meant you didn't see his face go completely still behind you.
Flying with Clark was its own category of experience, one that didn't get easier to explain the more times you did it, only more familiar. The first five minutes were always the same, your stomach hadn't made peace with the altitude yet, your eyes stayed forward or shut and some part of your brain spent the whole time insisting that this was not how bodies were supposed to work but underneath all of it, was certainty. He had never once made you feel like you might fall, not for a second. His arms around you were absolute, his chest solid and warm against your cheek and the cold that hit everything else somehow didn't touch the space he made around you.
"We're almost there!" he called over the wind.
You didn't answer, only nodded against him and held on.
Then, gradually, the quality of the air changed as the speed bled out of it. You felt him adjusting his descent in small corrections and a minute later your feet met the ground with a soft crunch that traveled up through your boots and into your knees. It was snow, fluffy and undisturbed in every direction.
You kept your eyes shut even as he released you and you stood on your own.
"Sweetheart." He called softly, you could hear the smile in it. "You didn't need to close your eyes."
"Oh. I thought I'dâ" you started explaining as they fluttered open.
The light hit first, that particular brightness that had no equivalent, white reflecting white under a sky that was almost cloudless. You blinked against it, adjusting and inevitably, as you looked around, your gaze landed on the structure in the distance and everything else stopped.
Your lips parted.
It rose from the landscape like it had grown there, which in every way that mattered it had. It was an eruption of crystal spires reaching at different angles, pale blue-white and enormous even from that distance, catching the flat Arctic light and fracturing it into something that barely looked real.Â
You took a few steps toward it without deciding to.
"Is that yourâ" you started, pointing at it in awe as the words died somewhere between your throat and your lips. You stood frozen in the snow, staring at it.
Clark stepped beside you, footsteps quiet in the snow as the wind tugged gently at his cape. Your shoulders almost brushed when he spoke, "I'll show you around."
You faced him then. He was smiling down at you with his hand extended between you, patiently waiting for you to take it, which of course, you did.Â
The two of you walked the remaining distance without rushing. There was no path, no track worn into the snow from use, no indication that anyone came and went from this place by foot. Just the flat white expanse and the crystal rising out of it and now, appearing behind you in a clean double line, your footprints beside his. You looked back once at the trail you were leaving and felt something open up in your chest that you weren't entirely prepared for.
He had never brought anyone here, you understood that without needing it said. This was the place that belonged to the man beneath everything else, the person who was both Clark Kent and Superman and neither of them entirely. He was bringing you into that, he was walking you to the door of the most private place he had and holding your hand while he did it, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
You looked up at the Fortress as it grew larger with every step, feeling the weight of being trusted with something irreplaceable.
His thumb moved slowly, across the back of your hand as the entrance came into view and the doors began to open before him.
The inside of the Fortress opened up in a way that made you stop walking for a second without meaning to. Everything climbed, walls, ceilings and structures you didn't have names for, all of it crystalline and catching the same pale light from a dozen different angles at once. It was somehow colder and warmer at the same time, the air sharp but the light itself almost golden where it pooled. You could feel Clark watching you take it in, his hand still wrapped around your gloved one, waiting for you to need him to say something.
"Welcome back, sir."
You turned at the voice as footsteps approached from your right. For a moment, you simply stared.
Clark had talked about the Superman robots before, he'd mentioned their names, their functions and the way they helped maintain the Fortress but none of those descriptions had prepared you for seeing them in person.
"Ms. Y/l/n. I have long possessed information regarding you. It is noteworthy to finally confirm your existence through direct observation.â
You looked up at Clark first, a small laugh escaping before you could stop it, then back at the robot in front of you, eyes dropping briefly to the number four stamped into his chest plate.
You smiled softly. "Nice to finally meet you too, Gary."
Gary turned smoothly toward two more robots crossing the floor behind him. "I have observed that Superman references us during conversations with his human loverâŚIdentifying the species is unnecessary, as there is no other kind of lover for him." A brief pause, as if confirming the data was correctly filed. "This is Twelve. She is new."
You looked at Twelve and smiled.
Twelve looked back, head tilting slightly in your direction. "Oh, she looked at me!"
Seven approached next, arms already extended, holding a folded red blanket and a metallic blue thermos. Gary continued without missing a beat. "We have prepared warm blankets and tea. The tea has been heated for three minutes to the ideal temperature of eighty degrees Celsius, with two sugars, per Superman's specification."
"I'll take the tea." You took the thermos from Seven, wrapping both hands around it gratefully. "Donât think the blanket will be necessary. Clark already had me wrapped up like a burrito before he swept me off my feetâŚLiterally." You took a sip, the warmth spreading through your body.
"'Swept off my feet,'" Gary repeated, processing it audibly. "This is a common idiom among your kind. I hope you also intend it in the romantic sense, in the event further confirmation is required."
You narrowed your eyes slightly, glancing up at Clark. "Confirmation for what?"
Clark cleared his throat, a little too quickly. "Let me, uh, give you a tour." His hand found the small of your back, gently steering you down the hall before you could press further.
"We shall prepare for the activities, then," Gary said, already turning toward the main room. "The clock is, figuratively, ticking."
"Thanks for the tea!" you called back over your shoulder, lifting the thermos in salute.
"They're not very good at saying 'you're welcome,'" Clark told you quietly as you walked.
"Noted."
He smiled as he watched you sip more tea. "SoâŚwhat do you want to see first? The glass bedroom or the bathroom? The toilet seat is heated."
You stopped walking, eyes widening slightly at the possibility of a glass bed. "Are you serious?"
His grin only widened, he shook his head. "There's no glass bedroom."
You let out a breath, shaking your head as you started walking again. "Theyâre doomedâŚThe Superman robots are certainly learning from your sense of humor, Clark. Your jokes are setting their development back by decades...They need an upgrade."
"We should probably get you better winter gear, then. If you're going to be spending more time here." He glanced over at you, already thinking out loud. "I'll look into some kind of heating system." He kept walking, leading you down the corridor. "There aren't many rooms, but there's one I really want you to see."
You looked over at him, slowing your steps. "ClarkâŚwait."
The teasing had dropped out of your voice entirely and he heard it instantly. He stopped and turned to face you and for a moment neither of you said anything.
You chose your words carefully, offering a reassuring smile. "You've already trusted me with so muchâŚand I'm honored to be here, truly, I am, but..." You shook your head slowly. "You don't have to do this, any of this."
He listened in out of worry, the way he sometimes did without really meaning to, to your heartbeat. It was steady and still unafraid, just nervous in the ordinary way. "What do you mean?"
"This is your legacy, Clark. It's a piece of where you come from. It could just be yoursâŚI'd understand that.â You paused, âOnce I've seen it, I can't unsee it. Iâll become a part of it too, whether you meant for it to or not."
He stepped closer, taking your unoccupied hand in his. "I've always wanted you to know all of me...every piece, if you're willing to hold it." His voice dropped, steady and certain. "This isn't a sacrifice, sweetheart. Showing you this doesn't cost me anythingâŚYou've always belonged at the center of who I am. Thisâ" he glanced around, at the crystal stretching up into the light, "âthis is just proof of it."
You nodded slowly. Your breath caught and you sniffled, blinking hard against the sudden sting in your eyes. "Do you happen to know the temperature at which tears freeze?" you asked, voice thick.
He laughed softly, pulling you gently forward by the hand as he led you toward the next room. "Yeah, I think a heating system really would be a good idea."
"Wouldn't a heating system melt the whole place, though?"
"It's Kryptonian crystal," he explained. "Not ice. It can withstand a lot more than that. It's just naturally cold in here."
"Well, insulation would ruin the aesthetic anyway, so think it through." you decided and felt him softly squeeze your hand.
He spent the better part of an hour walking you through the Fortress. Through the rooms that mattered and rooms that didn't but that he showed you anyway because you asked, small alcoves of crystal that hummed faintly when you got close enough. You stayed in a state of quiet awe through most of it but the room that stopped you completely was the one lined with his suits. Row after row, the same emblem rendered over and over in different materials and ages, the symbol of an entire dead world that he had carried across galaxies and made his own among people who barely understood what it meant.
You felt his eyes on you the entire time, watching you take it in and no matter how simple or obvious your questions were, he answered every one of them and you could hear the smile in his voice with each one.
Eventually, the two of you made your way back to the main room, where all of the Superman robots stood arranged in a loose half circle and at the center, set on a low pedestal, sat a small sealed box. You knew exactly what was inside before you directly saw it, that particular sickly green you'd only ever glimpsed in passing, in places you tried not to look too long.
Your hand tightened around Clark's, your first instinct pulling him back half a step.
"It's okay, sweetheart." His voice was steady, hand staying exactly where it was, not pulling away from yours. "Gary?"
Gary approached, holding out a pair of sunglasses toward you. "Please keep these on until we give the all clear," he said. "Your eyes are not equipped to withstand what you are about to see."
You took them carefully, turning them over once. They looked like ordinary sunglasses, maybe a little heavier and the lenses a shade darker than you expected.Â
You slid them on. "Is this some kind of science class?"
"I certainly won't be the one teaching it," Clark said, the corner of his mouth lifting. He looked past you toward the console. "Gary, are we ready?"
"Whenever you are, sir." Gary moved toward the main console, where two of the other robots were already standing by, lights along their forearms beginning to pulse in slow sequence.
"Clark, what's going on?" you whispered, eyes flicking between the box and his face.Â
"I wouldn't let anything happen to you, you know that, right?" He squeezed your hand as his gaze met yours.Â
"You, on the other handâ"
"I like experimenting." He shrugged, like it cost him nothing.
Your eyes widened slightly, "With Kryptonite? Since when?"
"UhâŚa year, give or take." He smiled down at you and then his eyes lifted to Gary, he nodded once. "Gary. We're ready."
Gary moved to the console without hesitation and the rest of the robots fell into position around the central platform like they'd rehearsed it a hundred times, because they had.
Twelve lifted the small box from the pedestal, carrying it with both hands toward the center of the room, where a shallow chamber sat recessed into the crystal floor, lined with something dark and metallic that looked nothing like the rest of the Fortress.
"Thatâs a containment chamber," Clark said quietly to you as his thumb moved slowly over your knuckles. "Built specifically for this."
"Sir," Gary said, eyes still on the console, "might I suggest you and Ms.Y/l/n retreat to the secondary platform. Fifteen feet, as discussed."
Clark's hand tightened slightly around yours. "Come on."
He guided you back, until you were standing on a raised section of crystal floor that put you above and away from the chamber. From there you could see the whole room laid out steps beneath you, the concentrator rising above the platform like an enormous lens angled toward the sky, panels of crystal catching light that wasn't there yet.
Seven lifted the lid of the box and even through the dark lenses the green light intensified, throwing long shadows across the floor, catching every facet of the Fortress and scattering it back in shades of sick emerald. Nestled inside, on a bed of dark fabric, sat the stone. Smaller than you'd expected and uncut, glowing from somewhere deep inside itself like it had a pulse of its own.
Twelve lifted it with a pair of long, articulated tools and lowered it carefully into the chamber. A transparent shield slid closed over the top, sealing it in. The glow didn't stop but it dimmed, pressing against the inside of the shield like something trying to get out.
"Sample secured," Gary announced. "Beginning calibration."
The concentrator began to hum. It started low, almost beneath hearing, a vibration that traveled up through the crystal floor and into the soles of your boots. Far above, panels began to rotate, realigning toward the chamber below and what little Arctic sunlight there was began to gather and bend, funneling down through the lens.
"Finally," Clark breathed, watching it. "We've been working on this for so longâŚthereâve been thousands of simulations." His jaw worked once. "I didn't want to tell you until I knew it would work."
"Tell me what?â You asked quietly, eyes never leaving the scene as worry crept in. âAnd do you actually know?"
"I trust the math." He nodded firmly.
The column of light reached the chamber and the room changed color. For a moment the green and the gold fought each other, the stone lit from above in concentrated solar light while it pulsed back against it, radiating that same sickly glow like it was resisting. The light intensified in stages, the hum climbing in pitch and beside you Clark's hand went rigid in yours.
You immediately looked away from the machine, eyes moving across his face, searching instinctively for every symptom you'd learned to recognize over the years. "Clark? Whatâs happening?"
"It's fine." His voice was rough. The green glow spilling from the chamber reflected across his face as he kept his eyes fixed on the stone. His fingers tightened once more around yours. "This is the part where it resistsâŚGary said it would resist."
"Isotopic activity decreasing," Gary reported. "Forty percentâŚThirty-five."
You watched his shoulders ease slightly, the tension starting to bleed out of him the way it had a moment ago and then it spiked.
The green flared violently, brighter than it had been at any point and the hum from the concentrator stuttered, a half second of dissonance that set your teeth on edge. Clark's hand crushed around yours, hard enough that you gasped and beside him his knees buckled enough that you felt him catch himself right on time.
"Sir." Gary's voice changed, the flatness cracking for the first time. "Output is exceeding modeled parameters. Fifteen feet is no longer sufficient at this intensityâŚI recommend immediate retreat."
"No." Clark's voice came out through his teeth, low and rough.
Twelve approached. "Sir, your vitalsâ"
"I said no." He straightened, forcing it, his free hand braced against the crystal wall beside you, now that sweat had broken out along his hairline despite the cold. "This is the spike before it breaksâŚIt has to be. We modeled this."
"We modeled a spike.â Twelve corrected and for the first time there was something almost uncertain underneath the calculation. âNot this one."
"Clark, baby." Your voice cracked. Both your hands were on his arm now, gripping tightly enough to feel the tension underneath his skin, the controlled violence of him holding still on purpose. "Clark, please, if it's hurting youâ"
"It's not going to last." He said it through gritted teeth, eyes locked on the chamber, on the violent pulse of green fighting against the gold. "It's a means to an end. It has to burn through, that's the whole point, it can't resist foreverâ" He cut himself off, breath hissing out through his nose and you felt his legs lock, refusing to let his body do what it wanted to do, which was fold.
"Gary," he called, "how much longer?"
"Unknown. The output is not behaving according to any modeled curve."
"Then we wait." His hand gripped yours again like an anchor. "We wait."
The green surged again and this time you heard him make a low and involuntary sound. His head dipped slightly as if something heavy had pressed down on him. His eyes shut for a second and every muscle in his jaw worked under the strain, the effort visible in the smallest movements of his face.
"Clark, look at me." You said as you stepped in front of him, both hands coming up to his face, so heâd look at you. His eyes opened and once they found yours, they held on. "Whatever this is aboutâŚitâs not worth the pain."
"It isâŚ" His voice was barely above a whisper now. "Youâll see."
The green light convulsed one more time, violent and bright, the air around the chamber shimmering hard enough to blur the shape of it until it broke, the same way ice breaks, all at once, the resistance simply gone. The green collapsed inward on itself and the gold flooded in to fill the space it left behind and the hum of the concentrator dropped, smoothed out and settled.
"Isotopic activity," Gary announced and there was no mistaking the relief in it now, flat as he tried to keep it, "Twenty percentâŚTwelve percent...Six percent."
Clark's head lifted as he watched over your shoulder, eyes moving away from yours while yours simply couldnât. He exhaled, long and shaking and you felt the tremor in his body ease as you too turned to watch.
"Two percent," Gary continued. "Zero point eightâŚZero point threeâŚZero point zeroâŚone." He paused. "Within acceptable marginâŚThe sample is inert."
The column of light thinned, it drew back up into the ceiling and the panels above began to rotate closed and the machines powered down in sequence as the Fortress went quiet.
The shield over the chamber slid back and where the green stone had been, something else sat now, pale and almost colorless, holding the ambient light of the room differently than it had before, no longer pulsing or alive with that sickly glow.Â
Your lips parted at the sight as Clark straightened slowly, drawing himself back together piece by piece before stepping down from the platform and offering you his hand. You took it, following him as your eyes met his.
âItâs okay,â he said before you could ask. âIâm okay. Itâs over.â
You crossed the floor behind him while every robot in the room stood motionless, watching him the same way you were. He stopped at the edge of the chamber and looked down at the stone for a long moment before reaching in and picking it up with his bare hand.
Nothing happened.
He stood there holding it, turning it slightly, watching the light shift across its surface and you realized youâd stopped breathing somewhere in the last minute and hadnât started again. He looked up, found your gaze and set a gentle hand against your cheek.
âItâs safe now. You can remove your glasses,â he said, still looking at you.
Your hands were already moving. The Fortress returned in full, unfiltered color as you stepped closer to him, staring at Clark holding something small and pale in his open palm, like the last few minutes hadnât happened at all, like heâd been waiting this entire time just to show you this.
You swallowed. âI thinkâŚwe need a breather,â you said, mostly to yourself.
You were already turning toward the nearest corridor when Clark suggested he take you somewhere outside. It took him only a moment to follow your movement and you didn't see what all the shifting and movement among the robots behind you had been about but only felt the change in atmosphere as Clark caught up.
His arm slid around your waist and a second later, the ground dropped away.
Air rushed past as he lifted you into the sky, carrying you through the open structure of the Fortress until the cold Arctic light returned in full. He set down on a platform high among the tallest crystalline spires, where the wind moved freely and the horizon stretched wide and white.Â
Snow shimmered below and the sky was pale, endless.
âI donâtâŚâ You let out a breathless laugh, the wind catching at your words. Your eyes swept the view once before you turned back to him. âIâm not sure what I just saw in there.â
Your voice tightened slightly. "And trust me, I tried to keep my eyes open through all of it, but you scared me." You gave his chest a firm hit with your fist. "What were you thinking, Clark Kent?"
The impact barely moved him, it only made him chuckle lightly.
He didnât answer right away. Instead, his gaze stayed on you, unreadable in that scary way that always came just before something important.
Slowly, he reached into his belt and your attention locked instantly.Â
He pulled out a carved band, holding it between two fingers like it mattered too much to be careless with. You could hear, or maybe just feel, your heartbeat speed up, loud enough that it felt like it filled the space between you.
He reached in again and produced a small, rough stone, one that bent the light in a way you'd never seen any diamond do, every facet catching a slightly different shade as it turned.
You watched as he closed his hand around it and when he opened his palm again, fragile shards fell away, revealing a small, clear stone underneath, which he carefully set into the first empty socket on the band.Â
You blinked, eyes following his hand as he reached in again and drew out another rough stone, this one glowing faintly the same way the untouched walls of the Fortress had. He crushed it the same way, the stone giving under his grip, not shattering so much as yielding, and a larger stone emerged from inside it, settling into its place on the band.
Then he reached into his belt one last time and pulled out the disabled kryptonite. Of the three, it was by far the clearest, though somehow it still caught the light in a way none of the others quite managed.
He crushed it in his hand and set the final âdiamondâ.
You stared at the ring as his eyes began to glow red, the heat focusing into two narrow beams that swept carefully along the edges of each setting, sealing the stones into place. Once he was satisfied they were secure, he lifted the ring to his lips and let out a slow breath of super breath, cooling the metal until it no longer shimmered with heat.
Your heart was pounding now, lips parting slightly as you watched him lower himself onto one knee, his eyes never leaving yours. When his knee touched the platform, he paused, drew in a breath that seemed to cost him more than it should have and swallowed. He held the ring up toward you and whatever he'd rehearsed every day for the past year caught somewhere in his throat.
"...Please."
Your brows lifted slightly, lips curving into a smile you couldn't have stopped if you tried, your heart stumbling so hard in your chest you thought you might actually faint.
It was all a blur of mumbled words, tears, tight embraces, breathless laughter and the strange sensation of height shifting under your feet as the hours folded into one another. You slid your glove off so he could finally slip the ring onto your finger and in the space of a heartbeat the both of you were already cutting through the sky, Clark holding you close as the arctic shrank into light beneath you.
What followed was a mess of emotion and surging energy you had never seen from him in that state. You made it home in record time and the first stop had been the bedroom, the both of you, but especially Clark, letting go of everything he had been holding back. Everything that had stayed trapped behind restraint finally spilled out, fast and unguarded, until the bedframe gave way under the force of it and you both broke into breathless laughter in the aftermath.
After that, everything blurred again.
You sat on the couch as a streak of motion moved through the apartment, Clark unpacking every box in milliseconds, placing everything exactly where you had mentally mapped it out. The remaining cardboard vanished just as quickly, carried away like it had never been there. He returned almost immediately after, kneeling at the edge of the couch in front of you with the same restless energy still burning through him, only now softened by relief and joy. You met it halfway on the carpet, where time stopped mattering in any real sense.
It was late when the rush finally eased into something his body could keep up with at a normal human pace. Only then did you think about food.
You ended up on the kitchen counter, one hand lifted as the ring caught the warm light and threw it back in shifting color. Clark stood at the stove shirtless, moving between pots and fridge with distracted focus, adding things, adjusting heat and insisting you needed to eat before you fell asleep. You had been fighting sleep for a while already, after so many rounds, caught between exhaustion and the aftershock of everything.
The cold air from the opened fridge brushed your bare legs and it brought back the memory of earlier that day without warning.
âTell me again,â you breathed, eyes fixed on the ring.
Clark stopped, whatever he was doing was abandoned in an instant. He stepped closer, placing both hands on either side of you against the counter, caging you in gently without pressure. His gaze didnât go to the ring at first. It stayed on you, studying your face and reaction, like that mattered more than anything else he had built.
âJewel Kryptonite,â he started, voice calmer now.
His hand lifted slightly as he spoke, indicating the first stone.
âI found it in the Fortress but it comes from the Jewel Mountains of Krypton. Its primary function was amplifying psychic abilitiesâŚtelepathy and mental projection for Kryptonians. In my caseâŚâ He hesitated, just briefly, choosing the right way to place it. âIt represents my mindâŚmy subconscious, dreams, grief and memories. The parts of me nobody reachesâŚthe parts I want you to have access to.â
He shifted his attention to the largest stone, the one in the middle.
âThe Fortress crystalâŚorigin and inheritance. Itâs everything I was given, my legacy, my peopleâs knowledgeâŚKrypton on Earth and Kal-Elâs home.â His eyes softened slightly as they stayed on you. âWhich you've gone out of your way to love and accept too in ways I never expected or thought possible.â
A quiet breath left him before he continued.
âAnd the last one but not leastâŚnever that.â His thumb brushed lightly against your hand where the ring sat. âDisabled green kryptonite. That was the hardest part and the reason this took so longâŚItâs what I trust you most with, my vulnerabilityâŚbut not the only one.â
His gaze lifted fully to yours at that.
You moved closer instinctively, arms sliding around his shoulders and pulling him in as if distance had become unnecessary. You raised your hand again, watching the ring catch the light between you both.
âWho you come from⌠who you are⌠and what you trust me with,â you murmured, more to yourself than anything else. Then something else caught your attention.
âWhat about the band?â you asked softly. You had noticed it earlier, the faint engravings when the light hit just right, the House of El symbol hidden in the design, it was subtle but definitely intentional.
It was clear nothing about it had been accidental.
He exhaled through a small smile. âEverything I am,â he said, quieter now, âset into the thing that led me to you.â
Your brows softened.
âI made it out of my ship.â
The confession pulled the breath straight out of you. âIt took you a year,â you said, voice catching slightly, âand so much effort and thought and Iââ
"I love you." His voice caught, eyes filling again as they held yours. "I loved you the day I met youâŚI love you today,â He paused, âY/n, I'll love you long after we leave this Earth."
You sniffled as a tear slipped down your cheek before you even realized it had formed but still, you smiled, voice cracking with emotion. "And I'll love you as long as it exists."
Clark lifted a hand, thumb brushing the tear away with a tenderness that contrasted everything else about him and gently tilted your face toward his as he pressed his lips to yours, leaving no distance between what he had built and what he had finally given away.
He might have been unable to say anything when he was down on one knee, but that didnât mean he had no words for you. He simply doubted they existed in any language and if they did, they had a terrible tendency to fall galaxies short.
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, theyâre a huge encouragement for me to keep creating. Thank you so much for reading!
