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pairing ; corenswet!clark kent x journalist!reader ˚. ᵎᵎ
summary ; where clark falls his flirtatious desk mate but somehow cannot get the words out… until he’s bruised and battered and his only thoughts are you. ˚. ᵎᵎ
wc ; 3,139 words ˚. ᵎᵎ
warnings ; fem!reader, clark kent being a idiot, yearning, sub!clark kent, implied smut but nothing described. ˚. ᵎᵎ
metropolis is a city that never fully lets anyone get comfortable. residents anxiously waiting for the next alien attack and whispering about which part of town will be scratched next. everyone feared it - everyone but the small group of journalists at the daily planet.
the daily planet thrived on it. groups of individuals stirred with every new wave of villain attacks to new breaking news of something superman did. that’s all that’s talked about in the office.
you went into the office as a fresh intern with their head on a swivel and pumped filled with coffee. years past and you’ve learnt to let down your guard, the coffee stays the same.
you had a group of work friends, mostly lois and jimmy who rarely worked at their desk. they hover close to yours, hushed laughs and stories said too loudly for an office setting. but it wasn’t just your desk.
you just so happen to share a desk with your favorite pass time. clark kent. a quiet, reserved man who tried to shrink his very tall figure by ruffling his hair and wearing baggy suits. he was easily flustered, his ears turning pink from the slightest change of tone.
one day, you stayed late to finish up on an assignment you so desperately wanted to wrap up before going home. you were surrounded by highlighters, files, and scratches of notes. it was silent in the office, the only sound was the occasional noise of rain hitting the windows from outside. you had been too wrapped up in your own work, you didn’t notice the 6’3 figure standing awkwardly next to you.
he coughed, shifting his legs awkwardly and slumped his shoulders. you blink, glancing up with a confused expression.
“clark? what are you doing here?”
he shrugged, looking around. “thought you would want some help…”
the next 2 hours were spent with ease. you both fell into a nice rhythm of working together. you would write a paragraph or two, handing it over to him to word check. it was relaxing, in some odd way.
you sigh, putting a hand on your forehead with a frustrated grumble. you had unfortunately been drawn the short straw, doomed to write in the sports column that practically laughed in your face. “i hate sports, who even likes sports? it’s stupid…” you groan, resting your chin in your hand.
glancing over, you notice clark had stopped word checking and was staring back at you. when you caught him, his ears blushed in his signature way and he quickly adjusted his glasses. the small gesture made you smirk.
“you know…” you spun your chair slightly towards him, resting back as you did so. “you didn’t need to help me.”
at that, he looked up at you through his thick glasses. “was the right thing to do.” his tone was soft and quiet.
for a moment too long, you stared at him. just his way of sitting, how his shoulders slouched towards the desk and how he always looked too small for his chair.
suddenly, and without thinking, a hand brushed his cheek. he jumped a bit before blushing like a red tomato. you laughed softly, “mama must’ve taught you right then.”
what you didn’t know was that clark didn’t think lightly about your flirtation. he was wholeheartedly and definitely whipped.
jimmy must’ve heard it a thousand times during the few minutes when you were just far away where his voice couldn’t reach you. this was one of those times.
jimmy groans, putting a hand on his eyes in embarrassment. “jesus, clark, you must be so incredibly oblivious.”
clark, bashful, looked around like a scared puppy. “what do you mean?!” he whispered, putting his hands on his knees with a soft slap. he was desperate.
jimmy glared at him, “i- i don’t even-“ jimmy couldn’t even get his sentence out before lois swiftly made her way over to where the two of them whispered away.
“clark, what he means to say is you are a love sick puppy. and her?” lois pointed to where you stood at the coffee table nearly across the room. you spoke softly with cat, another close friend of yours. “she is the one holding your leash.”
jimmy snaps his fingers, pointing a finger at lois in amazement. “exactly, listen to lois.”
clark groans, leaning back in his chair. he stares at the ceiling, shaking his head. “i just- she’s flirty with everyone.”
at this, both lois and jimmy sigh loudly. clark sat back up, holding his hands out, almost pleading. “wait, wait. she’s constantly touchy with lois and cat. she’s always helping out jimmy.” he scrambles like a mad man trying to show his argument.
lois shakes her head, “i don’t agree. sure, she’s like that but you have to realize she’s a flirtatious person. that’s who she is. now, what she does with you? that’s different.”
jimmy nods, “totally different.” he echos lois.
clark sighs, rubbing his temples silently. totally different? that’s sure not what clark sees.
clark sees you as someone worth worshipping. a goddess in his eyes. someone who he would spend hours on his knees just pleading for a sliver of their judgement - good or bad, clark would take both.
he saw someone who smirked like a cat when clark would get flustered at you staring slightly too long. someone who’s laugh brightens the room. someone who held themselves with confidence, like you knew who you were and what you were capable of.
clark saw someone who wouldn’t ever give him a chance.
he thought you deserved to be with someone like yourself. confident and sure of themselves. someone who walked into the room with their chin held high and their suit neatly fitted. clark was the exact opposite of that.
lois caught his eyes flicker with a heavy dose of self doubt and sighed quietly. she made her way over to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “clark, you need to tell her.”
clark’s eyes widen, looking up with a mix of embarrassment and anxiety written on his face. “no, no way-“
lois interrupted, something that she got so good at through her years. “yes, clark, you go up there and you tell her. i promise that it won’t be as bad as you think.”
jimmy waved a finger, “exactly, you go up to her and be yourself. but be yourself and tell her that you are hopelessly in love with her.” jimmy teased, a small grin spreading on his face.
clark sighs, his cheeks heating up from the single thought of going up to you. “i don’t even know how-“
lois scoffs, “you don’t need a fancy speech. you need the truth.”
the words left clark stunned a bit, the truth. yeah, clark could do that.
it was most people’s in the offices lunch break, most of them going down to some kind of restaurant down the street where they could eat quickly before getting back to work. but for you, you didn’t have that luxury.
you were sat at your desk staring silently at a white board where pieces of your new assignment were spread around on. you were investing lexcorps suspicious funding of certain us government companies. it didn’t make sense until you wanted to dig into corruption or manipulation but you couldn’t think that far yet.
you sat in your chair, your elbow resting on your knee and your chin resting in your palm. you sigh, closing your eyes. like a savior, you heard a quiet cough from behind you.
when you turnt, there was your savior. clark holding a plain brown paper bag and two large cups of coffee. one steaming hot and the other iced. a small grin spread across your face, eyeing both of the coffees and the paper bag.
clark hums, stretching his arm out to place the paper bag in your lap. “i got you one of those chocolate croissants that you like… and your iced coffee.” he handed you your coffee, a small smile breaking from him.
you take it silently, looking inside the paper bag suspiciously. but, he told the truth, there laid a chocolate croissant. it was your favorite.
you beam, looking up at him. “wow kent, you are…” you gape, “you’re a life saver.” with that, he blushed and smiled lightly. he shook his head, waving his hand dismissively. “no, it’s the right thing to do-“
you snicker, “you say that a lot.” you place the coffee on your desk, leaning back in your chair.
with your words, he frowns slightly. “it’s the truth, it’s the right thing to do.. help someone when they need it.”
you narrow your eyes at him, tilting your head back slightly. “maybe, but most people do what’s right for them. not you…” you trail off, giving him a long stare.
clark bit his cheek, looking down at his hands that he rung absentmindedly. now or never.
he let out an audible breath, closing his eyes and turning to look straight at you. “so, i want to tell you-“ but before he could get his words out, a beeping noise come out from you and clark’s phone. it was loud and rapid, making both of them jump.
both of you pull out your phones, seeing a bright message saying breaking news!
breaking news! a large alien has appeared in down town metropolis area. the justice gang feverishly try to stop the alien but looks to be struggling. where is superman at the time of need?”
you frown slightly at the message, clicking your phone off and putting it face down on your desk. but clark doesn’t do the same.
instead, his eyes widened and he hurried to put his stuff down on his desk. it almost made you laugh if you weren’t worried.
“um, clark?! where are you going?!” you ask, trying to follow his rapid movements. he dashed for the elevator, pressing the button quickly.
he turns slightly, “im so sorry! i’ll be back, i promise! i just- my apartment?” the elevator dings, the doors open up and he quickly steps in. “ill be back!” he yells back, waving slightly.
you sigh, slumping slightly in your chair. you look at the coffee, the condensation leaving a ring of water on your desk. you grumble quietly, something about always leaving at the wrong times. your mind wracks as you eat your croissant, trying to figure out just what clark wanted to tell you…
clark was fully embarrassed at the stunt he pulled today. even the thought of it made his inside cringed.
he was slumped in the back alley of someone dark street near where the alien was today. when clark saw the notification, he thought he could be quick. he would go in, help the justice gang, help evacuate the area and lessen the damage of the buildings around. but things didn’t go as planned.
he went in as normal, evacuating any people in the area. but when he went to help the justice gang, the thing grew. it was slimy and disgusting, clark heard everyone in the area groan in disgust as they watched. the fight took too long, he wasn’t able to get back to the office in time to see you again.
he groaned at the mere thought of it, putting his hand over his eyes as to help him block out the memory.
he sighed quietly, his brain filled with thoughts of you. your hair, your perfume, your smile, the sound of your heels, your laugh. he was in deep and he couldn’t get out of it.
he pushed himself up, trying to push out the thoughts. he wanted to go to bed and rest up, but his brain had other ideas.
he had walked you home before, a late night where you and him worked for hours past the work day. he remembered your smile, the way you told him you were a big girl and you could handle walking home by yourself. of course, he shook his head and insisted.
his brain used this detail against him.
before he knew it, he was outside your balcony window. he sighed, hitting the concrete floor with a thud. he put his arm under his forehead, groaning loudly. even superman could get hurt.
he barely heard the door open and the gasp that followed. barely.
he felt your presence next to him, he heard your heart beat rapidly. he groaned at that, closing his eyes tight.
“superman..?” you knelt next to him, your hands hovering over him. you didn’t know what to do in this situation. do you help him? does someone like him even need help?
clark tilted his head up, looking up at you with almost pleading eyes. “please…” he whispered, closing his eyes. he was tired of everything.
you nod slightly, looking around. “okay…” you say quietly, almost to yourself. you put his head in your hands, tilting his head up so you could see the injuries.
he had a cut lip and a bruised eyebrow. there was blood on his side too, underneath his suit that stained it.
you gulp, “okay, let’s get you inside.” you drop his head quietly, making clark let out a little sigh as your warmth left him.
you put your hands on his arms, trying to pull him up. clark helped, standing up with a hunch. he leaned into you, looking up through his eyelashes. he looked drained.
you guide him inside your apartment, the messy clutter and clothes spread around suited you. he looked around, seeing the art and family pictures hung up around the walls. you sat him on the couch, mumbling under your breath as you look under the sink for the first aid.
“does metahumans even respond to first aid? or medicine?” you whisper to yourself, making a small smile spread to clark’s lips.
“yes, they do.” he replies quietly, the words causing him to cough up a storm. this startles you a bit, nodding quickly and rushing next to him. “okay, good. good to know you can speak.” you say softly, opening the first aid kit.
he chuckles, placing a hand on his stomach as he laid on his back. he watches silently as you take out band aids and gauze. you huff, trying and struggling to clean the wound “you know, i’m not good with medical stuff.” you say quietly, glancing up at him. all he gave you was a lopsided grin.
slowly, he sat up and took your hand that was holding his head steady. he held it close, melting into the touch. from the action, you frown slightly and put down the towel you used to clean him up with.
he held your gaze, staring at you for a few beats. the thing that brought you back was the feeling of him sinking onto his knees. now, both of you sat on the floor silently.
“please,” he shook his head, putting his head down. he grabbed both of your hands and brought them to his face.
you frown, looking at him with wide eyes. it’s not every day you have a god begging on his knees.
“what?” you say softly, confused at the pleads for something you didn’t know. this made him scoff, “please, just let me worship you. you, you are the one thing that matters to me. i know i haven’t said anything. i’m so so sorry for that.” his voice was scratchy and soft, he looked up and his eyes were pleading and teary.
“i don’t understand.” you reply, shaking your head. superman of all people come into your apartment and pleads for forgiveness. this all doesn’t happen in real life, for sure.
he scoffs softly, taking one of your hands and putting it on his heart. “i’ll be so good for you. i’ll bring you more coffee. i’ll always help you on assignments. i’ll always protect you.” his voice breaks. and then, it clicks.
clark kent, the fluster country boy who wore large coats and crazy ties was the same person who saves civilians on the regular. the same grin, the same hair, and now the same pleading eyes.
you widen your eyes, your expression changing in a instant. he knew you figured it out, this made him exhale and put your hand back in front of his face. he messily kissed the backs of your hands. you figured this is what princesses used to be treated like.
“oh clark-“ he shook his head rapidly, “no, no, i need you to listen to me.” he brought both hands onto his chest, inching closer.
“i’ll be so good to you. i’ll do whatever you want. i’ll be whatever you want. i’ll be your dream man. i’ll always take you out and give you anything you ask.” he sobbed, “please, i’ll do anything-“
he gets cut off but your soft lips colliding with his.
you removed your hands from his chest slowly and put them in his hair. from that single action, he was puddy in your hands. he was full of moans and whimpers. he sounded more like a puppy than a god.
finally, after moments of soft but intense kissing, you pulled away. his eyes fluttered open, now his face contorted into a confused one. “why’d you do that..?” he asks quietly, it made you laugh.
“had to find a way to make you quiet.”
clark walked into the office the next day with a new found pep in his step and a couple extra bruises. he was full of smiles and talked to the people who stopped him with joy. both jimmy and lois saw this from across the room and gave each other knowing looks.
when he got to his desk, placing the coffee for the group down on his desk, they pounced.
“well? what’s got you so happy?” jimmy started, giving clark a wiggle of his eyebrows. this made clark laugh, shaking his head as he gave jimmy a cup of coffee.
lois raised an eyebrow, “you gonna answer the question or ignore the… happy grin you got there?” clark grinned, shrugging and handed her the cup of coffee she likes.
“i have no clue what you guys are talking about.”
with that, you came into the office from the elevator. you fixed your skirt and had your hair pulled up messily. you quickly made your way to your desk, giving clark a small smirk as he handed you your coffee.
both lois and jimmy gave each other a confused look again. lois scoffs, “seriously? two grinning idiots in the office today?” jimmy laughs, patting clark on the shoulder.
“good to see you finally asked her out.”
with that, both you and clark gave each other a knowing look. you both nod quickly, “yeah something like that-“ “exactly-“
a/n ; can you tell i like sub!clark kent? anyway, this is my first superman fic and im very excited to post more about him and others. i have SO many ideas!!!!
this is an edit of my drunken thought last night but
hockey player simon is in my head right now—
thinking about how you are watching from the seats closest to the rink, and startling when he body-slams an opponent against the glass protector only for your eyes to meet his when he pulled away with a quiet snarl and snapped his head up in his anger.
he couldn’t have truly seen you, you tell yourself. he’s caught up in the middle of a game, high off his adrenaline, so you are damn sure that he didn’t really catalogue the interaction. that it was a fluke—eyes meet without the conscious awareness from the brains, you know that.
but.
riley (41) somehow began to gravitate towards your end of the rink, only slipping away for assists or to catch his mark. sure, the seat you chose was close to the ones that are angled well to the goal so perhaps that’s why he kept coming back, but there’s something electrifying at seeing the way he scans the crowd during the two-minute breaks, stopping when his eyes finally rest on you, before he skates away.
it makes your heart flutter, blood jumping as your mind runs with imaginations. you try smothering the blooming hope that maybe, just maybe, this man you idolize somehow is attracted to you. that somehow, amidst the craze and the adrenaline, you were able to leave such an imprint on him.
but the game rages on, with specgru managing to carve a tie against their opponents with mactavish (91) scoring a point. it makes the arena shake as screams and jumps erupt from your side of the rink; horns blaring as victory now seemed to be on the horizon. even the goalie, price (2), runs to mactavish, tapping his bucket, fond even in his excitement.
time runs. you swallow, parched, your eyes flicking between the screens and the rink itself as the tension reached new heights. your friend holds your hand, her nails digging into your skin, but you don’t even notice as you clock in riley’s fast skating, his blades slashing against the ice with intense ferocity.
garrick (33) passed the puck, and riley receives it.
your throat constricts, your eyes going wide. you plant your feet onto the floor, unconsciously tensing your muscles. your eyes follow his move, watching the way he devours the space to get to the best shooting spot—that sliver of angle in front of you.
you watch with bated breath, palm over your chest, but it takes your friend shaking you to realize what’s going on.
the roaring of the stage is all of a sudden muffled as your mind catches up to your eyes, now finding meaning to what exactly it is you’re seeing. your friend is screaming your name but you’re deaf to it all, focused only on the man before you.
riley, the man that he is, points at you. then he turns, swinging his lumber, sending the puck flying past the goalie’s legs and into the net.
it happened so fast—barely a second or two—riley’s point and his score—but it unfolded so clearly before your eyes and victory sings in your blood.
“what was that!?” your friend screeches, pulling you up now that the game has reached its end with the specgru claiming their second win.
you try to tell her that you don’t know, that you don’t even understand what the hell actually just happened, but your voice refuses to form and your mind is back to buffering and riley is still staring at you—
jesus.
he is still staring at you.
god—
guys idek what this was but i woke up and saw bulletpoints of a thought so uhhh heres an attempt 😭
no matter how terrible my day is. i can always end my day in bed imagining fictional characters making out sloppy style and fucking raw. and that's beautiful. there's some good in this world mister frodo and it's worth fighting for
But if your taking reqs right now, could I ask for cockwarming Price? I think that would fix something inside of me right now 🦢
you have me HOOKED
also, thank you sm for liking the acc!!! i’ve been doing state tests all week and have no brain power to write anything down.
listen, price is an ass man. he would do anything to see and touch your ass.
so when he finds out that you would like to sit on his cock and do nothing? he would die of happiness.
it became an obsession.
he would do it anywhere, anytime. he doesn’t care if your parents are over or if he’s at work. if you are with him and you guys are in the room alone, he’s sitting you on that cock.
(im not saying he wouldn’t fuck you like his life depends on it afterwards)
one time, he forgot his lunch at home. you remembered he was having a rough time at work so you brought him his lunch. innocent enough right?
but when price saw you in your tight shirt and skirt, he went wild.
you knew it, you saw it in his eyes. his blown pupils and disheveled hair was a clear sign that you were going to be there his whole lunch break.
immediately, almost in a trance, he locked the door and sat down in his chair. he quickly unbuckled his pants and grabbed your hand to pull you down with him.
“shush.” is the only word that comes out of his mouths as you gasp and whimper. he just sits there for a while, kissing and leaning his head on your shoulder.
after about 10 minutes, his phone rang. he groaned and put a finger in your mouth.
“shush doll.” he whispers and answers. the person and him talk quietly for a few minutes before price hangs up.
“good girl. now when i come home, you better be on that bed.”
his words were gruff and sounded almost animalistic. all you could do is nod your head and slowly slip off with a whimper.
he quickly kissed you and slapped your ass before opening the door for you.
since your arm is in a sling and can’t do your hair, ghost helps (and gets a little carried away)
(186 words)
a/n: just a little tease for yall 😝 i’ll try and go outside my comfort zone next time
tags/warnings: fem!reader, ghost still being a softie, fluff with a tad of teasing? injury, talk of fingers?
“simon… can you help me?”
simon walk up and opening the door of the steam filled room in a instant. immediately, he noticed his gf wrapped in a towel with her sling back onto her shoulder.
it was about 2 weeks ago since his gf had a little fall down the concrete stairs while simon was on leave. her doctors had her in a sling for another 4.
as soon as he came back, he showered her with affection and help from all the time he missed while away.
now, his wife gf is giving him the cutest smile and he knows that everything you ask him will be done and more.
“simon, can you brush and braid my hair? i can’t do it anymore…”
his face fell for a instant, realizing how in distress his gf was (it wasn’t that big of a deal, but simon just takes the dramatic way out of everything)
now, we all know simon has huge hands. and from that, he’s fingers isn’t very flexible (not to knock down his finger game)
she has to teach him how to braid, which he’ll probably forget but is trying his best for her.
after he is finished braiding her hair, he starts to slowly kiss around her ear and down her neck.
he just loves his perfect gf so much, how could he not give her affection?
“simon….” she warns him, but not enough for him to know to stop.
