You and Clark get into an argument about who should complete a last-minute assignment from Perry. To settle it, you interrogate one another. During your questioning, you accidentally discover Clark's biggest secrets.
clark kent’s love language by @ilyasorokinn
clark thinks his love language is to keep you safe. he likes to check in on you every once in a while during the day. one afternoon, his daily check-in’s prove to be necessary.
LOVESICK by @hearts4hughes
yearning!clark kent x journalist!reader
TOLD YOU SO by @/hearts4hughes
the whole truth by @leaveonthelight
when Clark’s glasses fall off at work, you learn the truth
chewing gum by @indouloureux
a lot of things can kill you: a burglary, a building falling on top of you, and clark kent’s personal vendetta– cigarettes.
some “Clark Kent who” thoughts by @404superman
𝑀𝑦 𝐻𝑒𝑟𝑜 by @jungkooklover777
an office romance sounds good in theory but what happens when it goes according to theory?
Kansas by @anon-188
clark tells you everything, but there’s just one thing you can’t get past.
‘til our fingers decompose, keep my hand in yours by @alwritey-aphrodite
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭 by @multi-fandom-imagine
baby, it’s you!! By @bodhiscurls
clark kent finally works up the courage to ask you to dinner; only to run behind on work with lois and completely stand you up. it's fine, you're three glasses of wine in and ready to rant at your friend lois' door, only to find the cause of tonight's rage sitting there on her sofa. now, clark has to find a way to tell you the truth; that this is all a misunderstanding and it's only ever been you. it will always be you.
Starboy by @buckysfaveplum
recovering from kryptonite poisoning back home in Kansas leaves your relationship with Clark a bit confused. you’ve always been his rock- his best friend. but now, back on the farm, maybe there was always something more
Dating Clark Kent HCs by @lacy-oh-lacy
Nice Try, Kent by @y4-mama
You’re the only one in the newsroom who isn’t fooled by Clark Kent’s glasses — and you’re tired of pretending. A late-night confrontation turns into something a lot more complicated when your favorite frenemy stops hiding
he’s all that. By @fawnindawn
as a reporter of the daily planet, you haven’t been shy of your dislike for superman. clark is desperate to prove to you how superman, and by extension, him, is not as bad as you think.
LITTLE THINGS ABOUT CLARK by @blushhbambi
can’t stop thinking about clark realizing you’re pregnant before you even had a clue….. By @kindnessistherealpunkrock
clingy clark by @plaidcowboy
after insecurely taking advice from jimmy and spending hours online, clark distances himself from you. scared he might’ve overwhelmed you with his clinginess. all for a crying clark to come back home to you.
Sunday in Smallville by @octraiin
Your boyfriend, Clark Kent, brings you home to Smallville to meet his parents.
Gravity always pulls me to you by @yoxiaogi
after months of flirting he finally had enough
Recs
⋆˙⟡ clark kent/superman fic recs ⋆˙⟡ by @lianmendes
˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs three II one I two II gif credit - @/junkfoodcinemas
here are some clark kent stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡
ᝰ.ᐟ key: A- angst I F- fluff I S- smut I C- comfort I HC- hurt/comfort I ~S- implied smut I
ꨄ︎ immune I @ggclarissa I F
in which your psychic abilities work on everyone except clark kent — and the more you try to figure it out, the more everything starts to make sense.
ꨄ︎ love, meteors, and clark kent’s accidental flight I @stevebabey I F
Working at the Daily Planet, you - like everyone with eyes - are particularly enamoured with Clark Kent. A meteor and a spilled secret later, he shows you just how enamoured with you he is.
ꨄ︎ you are in love I @auroralwriting I F
clark kent had always been a good friend to you at the daily planet—but as the two of you fall head over heels for each other, you can’t help but notice the striking similarities between him and superman
ꨄ︎ hope I @toxicflowergirl I A + F
Clark saves you.
ꨄ︎ in every universe I @bellasweetwriting I F
keeping a relationship a secret is never easy, specially when two people really love each other, and specially when one… loses their memory.
ꨄ︎ hair falling into place like dominos I @alwritey-aphrodite I F
ꨄ︎ made you blush I @hoult-nicholas I F
ꨄ︎ kryptonite poisoning I @kindnessistherealpunkrock I F
ꨄ︎ drabble I @skeltnwrites I F
even when you throw yourself into danger clark can't stay mad at you
ꨄ︎ to whom it may concern I @cursedheartsclub I F + S
You start getting anonymous love notes at the Daily Planet—soft, sincere, impossibly romantic. You fall for the words first, then realize they sound a lot like Clark Kent. And just when the truth begins to unravel, you start to suspect he might be more than just the writer… he might be Superman himself.
ꨄ︎ soulmate imagine I @kirietown I S
ꨄ︎ play pretend I @bloatedandalone04 I S
Once the work day is done, you and Clark are free to be just that - You and Clark. That means you get spontaneous visits and dinner made for you, and Clark gets all he will ever need. You.
ꨄ︎ soup deliveries I @starluved I F
You don't come to work for a while, Clark worries about you and brings you soup.
ꨄ︎ pet I @honeybunnyale I S + A
Had Clark seen the second half of the transmission...
ꨄ︎ to trust and trust till you can no longer bear it I @heartburriedinvenice I A + F
in which you vowed to never let anyone into your life anymore until one day you met clark kent. and now you wonder if maybe that was all a big mistake.
ꨄ︎ you’re a witch I @maikorian I F
Clark didn’t expect his girlfriend to be the newest hero in Metropolis. The red witch.
ꨄ︎ the other man I @honeypiehotchner I A + F
You think Clark is seeing someone else. That someone? Superman.
ꨄ︎ drabble I @mcrdvcks I F
ꨄ︎ 2 for 1? I @anonymousfangir1 I S
What if you were seeing both Clark and Superman? And no, you didn't know they were the same person.
ꨄ︎ not our universe I @saltcxrcle I A + F
you've had a complicated relationship with being a metahuman, but after taking a look into the multiverse—you've never hated having your powers more.
ꨄ︎ request I @headkiss I F
ꨄ︎ i got it I @lomlsatoru I HC
you tell clark “i got it.” so many times and he is sick of it.
ꨄ︎ going home/staying home I @softestqueeen I F
while trying a viral trend on your boyfriend clark kent, you realise how much you really mean to him.
ꨄ︎ in case you’re reading this I @hangmanwrites I F + A
You, a hopeless romantic who leaves a note in a library book on a whim, and him, the quiet stranger who writes back signing only as “C.K.” It wasn’t meant to be anything, just a moment, a message, a maybe, but somehow it becomes something more.
ꨄ︎ field trip savior I @caoimhewritesfics I F
Your field trip gets rudely interrupted by another inter-dimensional monster. Superman saves the day and steals your heart
ꨄ︎ order for superman I @illumoria I F
ꨄ︎ slow down I @ficsbyfrankie I A
y/n has had an obsession with superman for ages. like, in a crush kind of way! lucky for her, her best friend is the best wingman ever.
Clark Kent was made to raise somebody else’s baby like?? Him taking late night shifts just so he can have alone time with the baby and so he can whisper to them how much he loves them and how he will always protect them? Coming home to him covered in spit up with the baby passed out on top of his chest on the couch? They’re not even related but they both sleep the same way with one leg bent and one arm up? Clark being not the stepfather but the father that stepped up?
hey boo, could you do something with the concept of you taking Clark back to the Kent’s farm with his kryptonite poisoning and it’s all cutesy and Clark confesses his feelings and thangs. thank you :p
You hardly slept last night. Never mind the fact that the Kent’s sofa is probably the most uncomfortable thing in the world — you were far more preoccupied with making sure the 250 pound man of steel was still breathing every 5 minutes to even care. The ride to the farm had felt like days even though it was only an hour. He had to be okay. Mr. Terrific told you he’d be okay.
Clark looked ridiculous. His body hung off at least half a foot from the end of the measly twin sized mattress. His pant legs stopped well above his ankles and his thighs looked like they could burst through the fabric at any moment. You know this only because you’d spent far too long helping his mom shimmy them up his ass when you first arrived.
He seemed to be better. He had color in his cheeks, his breathing had evened out, Krypto had stopped whining on the ground next to him around 4 this morning which had to be a good sign. Nothing could ever make you forget the way he looked yesterday, how scared you felt. You’ll remember the sound of his wheezing, the blackened veins all over his body, and the way he held onto you with the remaining strength he had in him for the rest of your life.
Clark was more than just your coworker, he was your best friend. You’d known each other for as long as you can remember. His parents said the two of you used to have tea parties together in the backyard with sticks and mud, and that you always made Clark wear your sparkliest tiaras. That’s probably why you left the farm together: you couldn’t stand to be apart. To everyone else, this was a will they, won’t they situation, but not to you. You’d never jeopardize what you and Clark have, even if it means forcing your own feelings deep inside with no chance of telling him how you really feel. You’d rather have him in your life forever as a friend than risk him turning you down and changing the dynamics of your relationship forever.
You turn on your heels to leave Clark’s childhood bedroom and put some coffee on, but are stopped cold in your tracks before your hand leaves the door frame it was propped against.
“Mornin’.” He sounds like death, but the sunlight hitting his dark, unruly curls and stubbly jawline made him look like an angel.
“Hi,” you said with shaking breath. “How do you feel?” You ask as you pull the chair from his desk to the side of his bed.
“Got to wake up to your pretty face so I’m feelin’ pretty good,” Clark jests. A laugh escapes him briefly, followed by a wince that jostles the mattress. Damn, he was sore.
“It’s not funny, Clark,” you state. “You scared the shit out of me last night.”
Clark’s smile fades and his eyes meet the ground. He outstretches his arm to find your hand. The tips of his fingers behind swirling around your open palm in a calming manner, the sensation raises goosebumps on your skin.
“I know. I’m sorry,” his tone more somber now.
“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” you reach over with the hand that Clark isn’t playing with to brush the hair from his face. “Just maybe don’t get locked in a pocket dimension prison cell with a guy that can make kryptonite in his bare hands again.”
He’s laughing again, paying no mind to how much it makes his ribs ache. He’s just happy that you’re here.
“Dually noted,” Clark clicks his tongue in jest.
You’re just about to ask him if he wants breakfast in bed or if he wants to try walking to the table when he speaks again.
“Thank you for looking for me. And for staying. I wouldn’t have made it out if you hadn’t found me.”
“You know I’d do anything for you, Clark. Love you to bits. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” You quickly flick away the moisture pooling at your eyes.
Clark gives your hand a reassuring squeeze and it feels like a punch in the gut. He could never, would never know just how much you love him. You swore to yourself.
“I love you too, ya know,” his voice is low and hoarse.
“Back in the ship,” Clark continues, “I was pretty convinced that that was it for me. I thought I’d be way more scared than I was, but I felt okay. I think because you were there and if I died, at least I was able to see you again.”
Unsure of how to react, you pull his knuckles to your lips, gently kissing the bruised and swollen skin. You offer a sympathetic smile.
“Well, I’m glad you didn’t die. That would have sucked.” You chuckled.
“Oh, no doubt,” Clark joined.
The two of you sit in silence, letting the sunlight shining through his windows breathe more life into him by the second. It’s not uncomfortable, it’s just quiet. Your fingers are intertwined and you’ve got your chin tucked into his forearm, resting peacefully against his side where he’s still tucked into bed. The plaid comforter is worn and smells like him. It’s hard to explain it, but it smells like home.
“Can I ask you something?” Clark speaks up after clearing his throat.
“Anything,” you reply.
His heart is beating in his ears and his pajamas suddenly feel even tighter, as if that could be possible.
“Do you ever think about what it would be like if we were together? Like, as a couple and not just friends?”
You answer honestly, “Yeah, I do.”
Clark perks up, eyes locking with yours.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Why?”
“I think about it too,” he rambles, “A lot. I could never tell if you had feelings for me or if I was just projecting. I think I’ve loved you for a really long time and never realized how much until now. You are quite literally the most perfect and thoughtful person I’ve ever met in my life and I don’t know why I never tri—“
He’s cut off with your lips meeting his. His bottom lip is split on the side, but you still feel the plushness underneath. His mouth is warm and inviting, his neck craning up to push himself further into you. Any chance of the two of you being just friends had flown right out of the window.
“Clark,” you start.
“Yes ma’am?” He replies through a grin, chest heaving as he fights to catch his breath.
“I really do love you, too. In that way. I always have and I have dreamt about a moment like this.”
“I feel like there’s a ‘but’,” Clark hesitates.
“But,” you confirm.
He’s frozen in place, praying to whoever is listening that you aren’t about to crush his soul.
“How about we work on getting you better first. I would love to continue this after you’ve got everything sorted out with whatever is going on in Metropolis first. Does that sound okay?” You ask.
Clark exhales with relief, bearing a white-toothed grin once again.
“That sounds okay,” he confirms. “But only if you promise to go on a real date with me once it’s all over.”
Your eyes look up and over, your pointer finger presses over your lips and you sigh as if in deep thought.
“Do I get to pick where we go?” You ask coyly.
“Of course. Anything for you, my love.”
“Then I think you’ve got yourself a deal, pretty boy.”
Before helping him up and into the kitchen for breakfast, you peck one last kiss on flushed, pink lips.
and feel free to ignore this i have daddy issues BUTTTT
imagine reader is an intern at the daily planet and she’s obviously fresh out of school or about to graduate and is smitten with clark and he has no clue how to act bc he’s normally the one being all shy
*gulp* yeahhhh this one got me
No one else would pick up on it, but she follows him around like a lost puppy. He’s a professional, as always, but he isn’t quite sure how to navigate this one.
He knows she’s the one who always saves him the last cookie from the break room and leaves it on his desk, prays that she’ll be available for last minute peer reviews like she always is, looks forward to watching her doodle in the corner of her notebook when meetings run cold and boring. She’s young and full of potential. Clark sees that, which is why it takes him a while to realize she is not kissing his ass because she wants an in in the industry. She’s kissing his ass because she has an all consuming, debilitating crush on him.
He starts to wonder if she asks to shadow him in the field to learn more about how to interview with integrity, or if she really just wanted an excuse to be near him outside of the office. He wonders if she only ever comes to him with questions because she respects his open and honest feedback, or if she really just wanted to be shoulder to shoulder with him while they combed over notes together. He wonders if she wore that skirt just for him, if she sat beside him in their weekly team meeting that one time so he’d see how much it rode up her thighs when she sat. It’s wrong, but he also started to wonder what she tastes like.
Normally, Clark’s the one in her position. He’s always unsure of what to say, fighting rosy cheeks, chewing the inside of his lip to oblivion when he’s thinking of ways to assert himself. He’ll do anything and everything to get someone to notice him without directly saying that.
This girl can’t be serious, he thinks to himself. Doing all of this at work? Especially as the new intern? He knows what he should do, what the professional move is. However, there is a sneaking, stirring, feeling of sinful butterflies fluttering in his belly that creeps its way up whenever she’s around.
also foaming at the mouth thinking about him constantly anyways…
maybe like clark getting jealous feel free to elaborate however u think fits
i think he’d try to push it down and then eventually pull away because he feels like he’s in the wrong for being this way
it’s so cliche but he’s like a different type of jealous like i don’t think he’s necessarily dominant or possessive i think he gets anxious and it shows
LISTEEENNNNN
I know it’s toxic for a man to constantly ask for reassurance but in some ways I think it’s a little endearing heheheeee
You’re at a gala with your colleagues which means Clark is obviously there too. The work you had to do is done, and now it’s just time to mingle and enjoy the rest of the evening. One of the men you had been assigned to interview had been coming on a bit too strong from the jump, his voice was pompous and he reeked of bourbon and a hint of onion. But now, officially being off the record, he had you cornered, testing the waters to see if you’d bite. Never mind the fact that all you had entertained him with was a chorus of “uh huh”s and “that’s fascinating”s sparingly over the last half hour. This guy just wouldn’t give up. He was a big feature for The Daily Planet, so you weren’t at complete liberty to tell him to fuck off. Besides, you knew Superman would come to save you if things went south.
Clark had heard him from across the room the whole time, causing him to tune out of whatever Jimmy was saying and only focusing on you and your unfortunate suitor. Clark took you in. The way your collarbones peaked out from the gown you were wearing, the way the soft light from the ceiling cast upon your cheekbones when you smiled, it felt like being hypnotized every time he looked at you. You were beautiful and you were his, he knew that. But, it didn’t mean his mind didn’t wander.
Clark is such a giver in every since of the meaning that he often has a hard time receiving the love and praise he passes along to others. Does it really not bother you that he leaves as often as he does? Did you really mean it when you said you were okay with keeping his metahuman identity a secret? It’s stupid, he knows that.
A supercut of the two of you plays in his head; the shared breakfasts between you, the tipsy confessions, the hot, dirty, and needy ways you’ve shown your love for each other. Clark gets to see you the way no one else does with your ratty t-shirts, morning breath and all. Yet, he still finds it hard to fathom that you chose him of all people. He should go over there, he thinks to himself. Go over there to his girl and let that weasel of a man know that you’re spoken for. But instead, he does nothing. He hides quietly behind the chilled glass in his hands for the rest of the night, thoughts of doubt swirling in his mind and settling terribly in his stomach.
Clark’s good at hiding most things, but not everything. You notice immediately that something is wrong. From the moment he rescued you from that god awful pest of a man, he seemed nervous. His grip on your waist as he walked you to the car lacked its usual strength; he anxiously bounced his knee as he drove the short trip home, barely saying a word. He was trying so hard to play it off and act as if nothing were out of the ordinary, but you knew your Clark.
“What’s got you all worked up, bubs?” You ask through a mouthful of toothpaste at the bathroom counter.
Clark’s behind you, stripping down from his suit and discarding it in the hamper. You had hoped to be the one to rip it off his toned, tanned chest tonight, but now didn’t seem like the time.
He turns around, a fake look of confusion on his face. “‘S nothing,” he shrugs, walking off into the bedroom.
It’s later in bed when he finally brings it up. He saw you talking to your subject and thought that maybe you were better off without him. You almost want to laugh. That Clark Kent, who is also quite literally Superman, was jealous. Not just that, but insecure. You almost want to laugh. How is this even possible you’re asking yourself.
“Honey,” you start. “I love you. All of you. I know what I signed up for and I promise I would tell you if anything about our situation was bothering me. Please don’t ever forget that.”
He starts to loosen up, you can physically see him relax more in the sheets. He believes you, he really does. It just might take him some time before he believes in himself.
currently fixated on cold and distant to everyone except his girl!Clark who lets her stay with him after he saves her because she’s injured and has no where else to go. he’s supposed to be finding somewhere she can stay in the mean time, but there’s something about her that makes him want to keep her close by. he starts off as kind of a dick, but she weasels her way into his heart and Clark never though he’d meet someone he cares about so deeply that it hurts
He seems like the type to be an absolute menace in bed, but gets embarrassed pretty easily whenever you bring it up. The night before, he had plowed you into the mattress so hard it left bruises on your hips. He whispered his filthiest thoughts into your ear, and didn’t stop until you had tears in your eyes from being so overstimulated. The next morning, you’re joking around in bed before you start your day. “Remember that one time when you had my legs all—“ and he’s cupping his hands over your mouth before you can finish the sentence. “Heyyy now,” he blushes, chest shaking with nervous laughter. His cheeks go a bit pink and it’s just the sweetest thing ever.
I think it’s a given that Clark’s extremely well-endowed. However, he’s never too cocky about it. He loves watching it glide in and out of you and how it disappears into your heat. He loves seeing how much of him you can really take when he’s got you on all fours and your ass up in the air. But what Clark really loves the most, something he wouldn’t admit for fear of coming across as arrogant, is hearing you say it. Panting into his neck while you’re bouncing on top of him, your words coming out more like moans than anything else. “‘s so deep. ‘s so good.” Your praise causes goosebumps to litter his skin, the way your breath felt on his neck. That’s all Clark needs to hear before he turns you on your back in one swift motion to bring you both home.
Clark is definitely a munch. It’s one of his favorite ways to be intimate; his mouth all over you, drinking up the sweetness that pools between your legs. He loves to feel you writhe under his steel grip while he nips and sucks at your sensitive core until your orgasm coats the bottom half of his face. You’re unable to move from his hold no matter how hard you try, so you’re forced to feel every flick of his tongue and the stubble on his jaw that rubs you in just the right way. Clark will often find himself rutting against the mattress, sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He already finds you so beautiful, but spread out like this, all for him, somehow makes him love you even more.
Call the man vanilla, but he loves some good old fashioned missionary. He can take you any way you ask; on the kitchen counter, the roof at midnight, bent over the back of couch, folded up in the backseat of your car after a long night of interviews together. Nothing compares to seeing your face, he thinks. Clark’s a man of emotion and connection, so he really feels you this way. Seeing how your features contort in a mix of pleasure and overwhelming bliss while he’s fucking you, a slight wince when each pump of his cock starts to burn ever so slightly. His body has you hot all over; his sweat coating your chest, his breath against your collarbone, the curls at the top of his head sometimes brushing against yours. He likes to see what he’s doing to you and study how you react to his touches. That’s what intimacy is all about if you ask him.
Firmly stand by the fact that Clark is never asking you to just shower with him. You fall for it every time. “We’ll save water.” “Look at me. I just got my ass kicked. You think I’m gonna try anything? Just want ya to work out the knots in my shoulder.” “I’ll give you a really good scalp massage.” While Clark may be a professional scalp massager, his hands will undoubtedly wander south. Soapy circles follow from the nape of your neck, migrating down the front of your chest to the swells of your breasts where they’re quickly washed under the stream of the water. He’ll start to nip at your neck while he thumbs over your nipples, and you feel both the steam from the shower mixed with the heat radiating from his body against you. It doesn’t take but a second for him to turn you against the wall. If given the chance to renovate, his first request would be to add a bench in the shower. “In case I get tired after working all day,” he unconvincingly states.
When you let him finish inside of you, he loves leaning back on his haunches and just staring at your pussy. Clark’s fascinated by how you take all of him, by how his warm, silky seed spills from your heat and onto the surface beneath. Often times, he’ll reach a curious hand out, biting his lip unknowingly while he pushes the excess back inside of you. You flinch at the contact, still sensitive from how his throbbing cock ravaged you. It doesn’t stop a low, deep moan from escaping your lips when you feel his fingers enter you and push against your walls. If he’s still deep in it, he’ll occasionally run his tongue along your slit and you watch from above as Clark paints your overworked pussy with the combination of your wetness and his cum.
No, he doesn’t need the glasses to see, but he loves to indulge you whenever you ask him to keep them on. It brings out the softness of his personality, makes him look more on the outside what he really is on the inside is what you always tell him. There’s something about them that really gets you going; how to everyone else he’s just Clark, but you know his dirty little secret. If only they knew. He finds it adorable more than anything, how when you’re riding him, squeezing his length with each stroke of your pussy, and you reach a shaking hand out to push the frames back up the bridge of his nose where they had fallen down. He pulls you in closer by your hand for a deep kiss, using his strength to keep your movements from faltering while you’re fucking him.
Clark’s a humble man, as we all know, and he’s never one to show out or flaunt his Superman persona. However, he can’t resist when you start to show out and taunt him. “I can’t believe Superman forgot the one ingredient I asked him to bring home for dinner.” “Superman would never leave me alone all night waiting for him to come home.” “I wonder what Superman would do if he knew I was in bed wearing only my panties.” He knows you do it on purpose, and he lets you do it every. single. time. “I’ll show you what Superman would do,” he sneers. He’s got your panties around your ankles and discarded in the corner before you finish your cheeky giggle.
While Clark is no sexual deviant, it doesn’t mean his mind can’t wonder when work meetings are dragging on and on. You’re usually sat across from him, so you can sneak glances whenever someone chimes in with the dumbest idea either of you have ever heard. It’s all in good fun for you, but Clark shamefully can’t help but imagine what it would feel like to fuck you while you’re bent over the long wooden table. What your moans would sound like echoing off the vast conference room walls, how your skin would feel pressed between his chest and the stack of papers fanned across the tabletop. He once got so lost in the daydream that when called upon to answer, he completely embarrassed himself. A stuttering, stumbling mess he was as he tried to play it off. He catches the quizzical expression on your face, wondering what’s got him all in a tizzy. He had to excuse himself briefly after, and neither of you returned to the office after lunch.
Blushing, giggling, kicking my feeeeeeet!!! Thank you for the love on my first post, it was so much fun to write! I am always open for drabble banter or requests. Feel free to send me something 🤭 Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!
can't stop thinking about clark realizing you're pregnant before you even had a clue..... (1.8k words)
It's damn near midnight. You'd spent most of the day in bed, barely able to keep anything down. Maybe the flu can still be going around...in March? That's what you told yourself anyway. You'd promised Clark you'd go to the doctor in the morning if you weren't feeling any better.
The day had been uneventful. Your time was spent by nursing cups of broth and watching reruns of your favorite show - it was all you had the energy for yet you were still exhausted by the time Clark came home from work. He had tried to make you eat real food, but even the smell of butter burning slightly in the pan made your stomach flip and allowed the sickness to take over.
Clark had helped you into the bath after and opted to sit on the cold bathroom tile next to you. He missed you dearly, but more than anything wanted to make sure you were okay. He told you what you missed at work today. "Whole lotta nothin," he quipped, his hands moved to push the hair out of your eyes. He told you about the new article he'd gotten approved to write, that he saved a cat from a tree on the way home, that he saw a photo on Jimmy's phone that he really wished he hadn't. Clark sensed that his rambling soothed you, the energy surrounding you turned mellow and your heart rate slowed as he gently massaged your scalp with his fingers. You really were worn down, he thought. He wished more than anything that he knew how to make you feel better, but this would have to do.
That led you to now. In bed, on your side, eyelids growing heavy with one arm and leg draped over Clark's toned chest and legs. He was bare, save for a pair of tight fitting boxers. Any other day, you'd be all over him; begging for him to be all over you until you're a pile of mush in the sheets. But not tonight. Tonight, you just wanted him to hold you. Clark is a good boy, so he was doing just that with his large hand splayed across your back. His fingers occasionally running up and down your spine almost sank you into blissful sleep. That is, until...
Clark stiffened beneath you. It's like his entire body turned to concrete while his eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other. He heard something.
"What is it?" You ask, exhaustion and a hint of annoyance laced in your voice.
"Hear someone," Clark murmured.
He slid out from under you with ease and pulled some sweatpants over his legs. The spot he just left was still warm, but his absence made the bed suddently feel cold and sterile.
"You sure it wasn't just a bird, baby? They've been crashing into the windows like crazy for weeks now."
You're slightly perturbed, but you try not to be. He is Superman after all. His job is to keep the city safe, so you can't blame him for being attuned to hearing anything and everything that could possibly pose a threat. Plus, you knew he cared about your well being more than anything else in this world, so you chose not to push it any further.
Clark doesn't say anything else, only turning back to you with a finger over his lips, asking for silence as he investigates. He glides through the room tactfully and undetected, as if he were a lion hunting its prey. You watch as he pads down the hallway from your shared bedroom and disappears into the darkness that is the rest of your apartment.
He's gone for only a minute or two. When he comes back, you notice his hair is a bit windswept. He must have checked the outside of the building. You can't even imagine if someone had saw him. A half naked man with rock hard abs seemingly levitating outside the 17th floor of a Metropolis apartment building in the middle of the night. Although, it probably wouldn't have been the weirdest thing anyone has ever seen.
"Sorry," he apologizes, "Guess it was nothing."
Clark quickly discarded his sweats back onto the floor and nestled back into bed next to you, resuming the same position you were both in just minutes before. He runs his veiny hand over his face and rubs his eyes, an adorable yawn escaping his lips. Clark was tired too.
"It was probably just something happening on the street. They're still doing night construction across the street," you thought aloud.
"No, honey," he was quick to interject with a click of tongue, "It wasn't something; it was someone. I heard their..."
Clark froze again, ears perking up as he turned to fully face you. He suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time. He looked like he wasn't breathing.
You were growing concerned with his sudden skittishness. "Everything oka-?"
"Heartbeat," he finally mustered up the strength to say out loud.
You're not making sense of what is unfolding in front of you. Clark is staring at you; his eyes felt like they were burning a hole into your soul. His gaze drifts about your body, as if he were checking you for injuries or trying to see if anything was different about you. You notice his eyes are lingering at your lower half, where your arm laid haphazardly across your stomach as you rested on your side. Your engagment ring glimmered in the low light of the lamp in the corner of the room, but that's not what Clark was really staring at.
"So, it was a person or no? I'm lost, bubby," you stated, begging him to make sense of this.
"I only heard the heartbeat when we were in bed earlier. 'S not outside or in any other part of the house. I think...." Clark's voice is shaky now. "I think you're pregnant?" It came out as more of a question than a statement.
It was your turn to be speechless. Your eyebrows furled as you sat up straight. Either Clark was losing his mind or this was some kind of joke.
"Clark, what in the hell are you talking about?"
He's quiet again, only this time he shimmies down the plush mattress until his head is hovering right above your belly and facing away from you. It felt like the whole world stopped in that moment. What if it was true? Is this why you've felt so sick over the last few days? Gears are turning in your head trying to solve this puzzle. When Clark turns his head back towards you, the final piece locks into place.
"I hear it. It's quiet, but it's there. A heartbeat." Clark was smiling.
You reach a hand out to hold the side of his face that isn't pressed against your stomach. You don't know whether to cry, celebrate, or puke for the seventh time today. You run your thumb anxiously along his jawline.
"Holy shit," is all you can muster. "Is that even possible?" You really didn't know. Neither of you did. Sure, you've both pondered (and loved) the idea of mini Clarks and mini yous running around the farm in Kansas one day. However, you had never seriously considered whether or not a human could give birth to a half-Kryptonian.
"Guess so," Clark replies. "We can make some calls in the morning and try to find out."
He's moved back to the top of the bed now and his arms are enveloping you in an all-consuming embrace. His chin is tucked into your collarbone, his breath tickling your neck just slightly with each exhale.
"Are you happy?" He asks, begs, quietly. Your lack of enthusiasm has him growing weary.
You pull back to look at him fully. The dark, curly hair on top of his head, the prickly stubble on his cheeks that appears after a long day, the warmth radiating off his perfect body. You melt under his touch, along with any doubts you had in your mind. In front of you is a man who would literally go to the ends of the Earth (and beyond) to protect you. A man that lends a hand to anybody and anything that could possibly need his help. A man that loves you so deeply that he would know how to find you in any universe or lifetime.
"I think," tears prick at your eyes, "That I'm a little scared. And a little shocked."
Clark nods his head, listening. His jaw twitches slightly.
"That's okay," he tries to reassure you.
"I know." You swallowed hard. The tears were coming now. "But also still a little happy."
It's like a switch flipped, the two of you begin chuckling contagiously in disbelief. Clark thumbed the tears away from your cheeks and you kissed him deeply. He was warm and his tongue was soft, slipping through your mouth and running along your bottom lip.
"I love you so much," Clark says as he pulls back. There isn't a doubt in your mind of how much he means it.
"I love you too, Clark," you beamed, "But I can't believe you thought our baby was an alien intruder that came here to destroy humanity at midnight on a random Tuesday." A fake pout adorned your features.
Clark playfully flicked at your nose, unable to fight the laugh in his belly. "I thought you were sick?" He jested, "Now you have time to crack jokes?"
"Heyyy!" you protested, "Be nice to me. You have to now."
"'M always nice to you," Clark snided, feigning offense and planting a forgiving kiss to the top of your nose.
Neither of you remember when you both fell asleep. You talked until the sun almost began to rise. About what color hair you thought they'd have, what theme the nursery would be, what color their eyes would be. You wanted them to have Clark's, and of course, Clark wanted them to have your eyes. Agree to disagree Clark proclaimed, though he'd be happy even if the baby's eyes were purple. The baby, your baby, was a piece of the two of you and the love you shared so deeply with one another. And that was all that mattered to him.
You woke up turned away from Clark, morning light quickly taking over the bedroom. Your body was engulfed by his broad shoulders as he spooned you. His arm, as strong as it may be, was draped oh so carefully across your abdomen. Clark was already protecting the little one growing inside of you. And he always would.
