should I be doing classwork? yes.
am I creating more stress for myself later by writing this instead of doing said classwork? also yes.
worth it, though. enjoy <3
wc: 1.2k
warnings.
SMUT, no use of y/n, implied relationship, cowgirl position bc he likes looking up into your eyes 🥰, interrupted sex except you keep going while he's on the phone oopsie 🤭, kinda silly & playful (not super serious), mutual orgasms, cute ending.
clark kent taglist: @marvel-hiddles-stark @teeth-sheesh @starlit-whispers @kissmxcheek @starsmoon @averyhotchner @pinkgirlblogs @x-fanaccount1-x @mollymal @rynwritesstuff @froggypoggy222 @dreamreaperrr @sullyosully @marymustdie @dadwh0re @pumpkinspicedlove @emergencycontact @alwayslikekath @angelkisscherie
(interested in joining any of my taglists? fill out the anonymous form HERE!)
✧ ma & pa kent call at an...inopportune time. ✧
"S-Shoot..."
Clark groans softly, his head tipping back for a moment. Both of your hands are on his shoulders, nails digging into his white button-up as you move up and down on top of him. He barely even got through the front door before you were on him, not that he minds.
"Oh, god," you breathe, starting to swivel your hips a bit with each bounce. "You just looked so good today...could barely contain myself..."
He smiles, hands smoothing down over your hips to give your thighs a firm squeeze.
"Really? I couldn't tell."
You chuckle, replaying the memory of you pulling him into a hall closet today at the Daily Planet for a quick make-out session that may or may not have involved teased him to the point he had to stay behind for a minute to calm down...
"You loved it."
Clark reaches around to give your ass a quick little pinch, which earns him a little surprised gasp.
"I never said I didn't," he says. "I would be a very foolish man to complain about something like that."
You smile, leaning in to kiss him deeply as you begin to speed up your rhythm. He grunts against your lips, leaning up into the kiss. Just when he pulls back and looks up at you, lips slightly parted as if he's ready to say something...
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
"Just ignore it," you hum, nipping his bottom lip, but he's already reaching for it.
"Lemme just make sure..." he manages, looking at the caller ID. "It's Ma."
"Definitely ignore it, then," you chuckle. "You can call her back later."
Guilt flashes across Clark's face. He really hates missing Ma's calls, always worried that something is wrong, since they're getting a little older. You sigh at the sight, slowing to a stop on top of him.
"Go ahead and answer it."
"Are you--?"
"Just answer it, babe."
He nods, giving you a quick peck on the lips before picking up the call, lifting the phone to his ear.
"H-Hey, Ma," Clark says. "Listen, can I call you back in--"
"Clark? Pa needs help with the computer again."
He runs a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment. Oh boy.
"Uh," he looks up at you, already apologizing with his eyes. "...sure. I don't have much time but--"
"Hey, Clark, it's Pa. I'm trying to print somethin' out here but it's not giving me the option to print. How do I tell it to print?"
Clark lets out a soft sigh, looking up at the ceiling, not really wanting to look at you on top of him when he's talking to his Pa about computers. He starts to ask some questions, nodding along while Pa talks.
After a couple minutes, you rest your hands on his chest and hum softly, smirking as you begin to shift on top of him, testing the waters. His hand instantly grips your hip, silently pleading you to stay still.
But you're not really in much of a mood to make this easy on him. You're not mad at him for answering the call, not really, but you never said you were gonna stop while he talks...
When you rise up slightly and sit back down, his breath catches and his head immediately tilts forward until his eyes meet yours, slightly widened.
"Don't," he mouths, shaking his head.
You shrug, still smirking as you rise up and sit down again. A shiver runs down his spine at your mischievous smirk, and his hips instinctively thrust up against you, letting out a shaky breath.
"Clark? Clark, you still there? I think I got it saved as a, uh...PDF."
"Y-Yeah," he says into the phone, not taking his eyes off of you. "That's great, Pa. Now go to your desktop...a-and...and open the PDF."
You lean in so your lips are next to his open ear, letting out a soft whine in his ear.
"You're making me so hot, Clark," you whisper, your voice soft but sultry. "I love it when you talk PDFs with me."
He nearly chuckles, biting his lip to keep from making any incriminating noises as his grip on your hip tightens ever so slightly. His focus is slipping and he really hopes Pa won't ask about it, because he doesn't think he can come up with anything convincing as an excuse in his current situation.
"Okay, so I just gotta click the little printer picture at the top and it'll print?"
"Yes, Pa," Clark says in an almost suspiciously breathy way. "You'll p-probably have to select the--"
"Wait, now...which printer is it? Why are there so many to choose from? Do I gotta plug it in or somethin'?"
"No, no, it's wireless."
You chuckle softly as Clark holds the phone away from his ear for a moment, letting out a sigh, looking up at you as if to say save me before talking again.
"It s-should be an Inkjet printer, Pa. Should b-be the only one."
Your walls clench around him and your hand goes to wrap around his free wrist, guide his fingers to your clit, silently pleading for him to touch you. You're so close, rhythm beginning to get choppy and rushed.
His fingers begin to rub quick, firm circles, watching intently as you hold back sounds. He grunts softly when you tighten around him again, hips bucking up to meet yours.
"Fuck," you gasp as quietly as you can, eyebrows knitting in pleasure. "Oh, Clark..."
Clark holds his breath, watching intently as you fall apart on top of him. You feel so good, so hot and tight around him, and he knows he won't be able hold off.
"Pa, I need a sec, I'll be right--"
He clicks the mute button before even finishing his sentence, quickly tossing the phone aside and grabbing your hips, bouncing you on top of him with a deep moan. You gasp loudly, back arching as he moves you up and down quickly.
"Y-You're the worst," he breathes, leaning down to tuck his face against your breasts. "Oh gosh, I'm gonna come..."
You nod, fingers tangling in his hair. It only takes a few more seconds before he's tumbling over the edge, filling you up with a groan while his hips buck up erratically.
Once he lets go of your hips, the two of you simply stay still for a moment, just briefly basking in the afterglow of orgasm. He hums, pressing a few kisses to your nipples and breasts before leaning back with a soft sigh.
His lips tug up into a lazy smile, eyes half-lidded as he looks at you, taking in how you look on top of him. It's a view he'll never get tired of.
"Clark? Are you there? Did something happen?"
The soft sound of Pa's confused and concerned voice coming from his phone snap him out of it, and he quickly reaches over to unmute.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm here," he says, his cheeks flushed. "Sorry, I...h-had to help in the kitchen real quick. Did you find the printer?"
You smile, wrapping your arms around him and leaning forward, tucking your face against the side of his neck as he finishes up on the phone with Pa.
What an amazing man, you think to yourself.
And he's all yours.
(daily planet divider by saradika-graphics here on tumblr!)
>> clark kent masterlist for all of your clark kent needs! <<
summary: Clark Kent doesn’t know what he has gotten himself into after agreeing with you that he likes it rough as well, knowing he naturally was an awkward guy. But he knew he could never pass up the opportunity to be with you so he tries his best to take you roughly in his own sweet, clumsy way.
Clark doesn’t exactly know how he managed to get you in this position. One moment, he was honestly over the moon that a girl as beautiful as you was giving him the time of day. The next, his whole body shuddered as he read the text from you.
I like it rough, Clark Kent :)
All he could remember is sitting on his own couch, his eyes widened as he began to panic. He immediately opened Google and began to type away.
How to talk dirty to women.
How to talk dirty to women + without being overly disrespectful.
How to be dominant.
And despite the way his heart pounded, he managed to get through a few sexts that were utterly ridiculous and awkward on his end. He was even more surprised when you asked to see him.
When you had first arrived, you half expected him to attack you with kisses when he opened the door, shoving you against the wall roughly. But he didn’t. Instead, you just got that half grin that you loved so much as he greeted you and stepped aside to let you in.
The walk down the hall to his bedroom was quiet and honestly felt like a walk to the restaurant on a first date rather than a path that two adults were making before hooking up. He awkwardly sat on the edge of his bed as you climbed onto it, smiling softly as you tried to make conversation. He carefully took off his glasses and set them down gently onto his night stand, opening the drawer.
“I’m on the pill, in case you were worried about something like that,” you tell him casually as you pull off your sweater. His eyes widen as his hand freezes over the box of condoms (which he had just purchased that afternoon) before quickly shutting the drawer.
Now, he had you in a place he never imagined putting any woman in. Your face smashed into his mattress, ass in the air, and his hand pressing into the back of your head to hold you down. To him, he assumed he did everything wrong. But the noises coming from you surprised him even as he stuttered through this with no clue.
“O-oh Clark,” you hum, your lips in a lazy smile as his swollen cock literally feels like he’s kissing your womb with every thrust. You always lucked out and knew how to pick them: sweet, nerdy, and huge.
She likes it rough. Talk dirty to her. He reminds himself.
“Yeah?” He forces it out, honestly captivated by the way your warm walls squeeze his sensitive cock. “You like that, you naughty little thing?”
Your eyebrows furrow slightly as you find his word choice a little odd, but the way he fills you doesn’t leave much room for thinking. You nod against the mattress as a breathy moan passes your lips.
“Mhmm,” you hum, his hips moving at the perfect rhythm to keep you feeling absolutely dumb.
His sweaty palm continued to hold the back of your head against the mattress. His other hand was gripping your hip so tightly out of nerves that when he realized and loosened it, there was a red mark already forming. He was about to apologize frantically until you let out another string of incoherent whines.
“You’re… Gosh, you’re so good,” his voice is ragged and breathless as his hips continue to fall into you, your skin slapping together as the bed frame groans.
Your lips part, heart clenching at how sweet he is. “Clark… you’re wrecking me.”
Your words send heat flooding right into his lower stomach. His lips part, mind spinning as he tries desperately to remember anything from his frantic Google searches. “Yeah? You like being wrecked by me?” His words come out choppy and clumsy, but the way you gasp and grip his sheets with your fingers make his cock twitch deep inside you. A raw moan escapes his chest as his hips slow slightly, almost like he was holding back for enjoying it too much.
“I’m so close,” you cry. “Harder, p-please Clark.”
He swears your words alone could make him collapse as his head spins. He was able to make you close? This must be a dream. His grip tightened again on your hip as he tried to steady himself, thrusting into you with the kind of smacks that could be heard in the apartment next to his. It was harder this time, deeper, as your eyes rolled back. Your pussy wraps around him so tightly as he manages to hit the spongey part of you each time.
The desperation of your breathless cries against the mattress sent a shiver racing through him. His hand moved from gripping your hip to one of your ass cheeks, squeezing it hard, almost testing, before bringing his hand down with a sharp smack that echoed in his small room. You jolted with a gasp which caused him to freeze immediately.
“Oh gosh- I’m so sorry, I- did that hurt? Did I hurt you?”
His panic was so genuine that you had to bite back a small laugh. “No, I liked it. Do it again.”
Something inside of him seemed to snap. His hand came down again, this time harder. The sting of the contact mixed with the way he easily stretched your pussy melted together in the most perfect way.
“Clark- I’m! Oh God, I’m gonna-“
His thrusts grew slightly erratic as he continued to pour into you. Your walls fluttered around him as you began to drag him right to his edge as well.
“Please, just let go for me. I- I need you to cum for me,” he stammers as you can’t hold back anymore.
Your pussy clenched so tightly around him it almost knocked the air out of him. Your back arched, your face twisting against the sheets you were being pressed into as you let out raw, high pitched cries.
Finally, you release, coating his cock as your walls spasm around him in relentless pulses. The wetness gushed down his length and part of your thighs with every contraction.
Clark was wide eyed above you, watching in awe as his thrusts became sloppy. You whimpered into the mattress at the way his cock kept hitting that devastating spot deep inside of you as you tried to ride out the aftershocks. He was close too.
He paused inside you, balls pressed right against your skin, making the most guttural sound as his warm juices spilled into you. You panted as you felt the sudden flood of warmth in your cunt. Clark’s grip around your head turned shaky, almost gentle in a way, but he didn’t fully stop holding you down until the last few spurts wrung themselves out of him. He stayed buried deep inside of you for a moment before pulling out of you slowly.
He collapsed onto his bed, eyes in a daze as reaches for you. He pulls you into his chest, pressing a kiss to your head before realizing he wasn’t sure if you would like that.
But you didn’t squirm or even tense as you settled against him.
summary: 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.
pairings: established!clark kent x gn!reader, clark kent x metahuman!readerノ wc: 7.9k
warnings: no use of 'y/n, buckle in bc it's a long one!, fluff in the beginning, then there's angst, reader is a metahuman who can see through the multiverse, reader's nose bleeds a lot, insecure!reader, avoidant!reader, reader is described to be shorter than clark, clark gets frustrated, fluffy/happy ending, the ending is so sappy, and i love it, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own
a/n: saw an edit on my feed about all of the iterations of clois and i was like...this is primetime for some angst for the reader LOL :p. also sorry for taking so long to write this i was waiting until i rewatched the movie to finish this but enjoy!! oh and a simple comment or reblog goes a long long way for writers!!
clark kent masterlist
IT STARTED OFF SMALL, YOUR POWERS.
You didn't even realize you had powers at first. In your young mind, you thought you were having really vivid dreams at first. Your parents thought you had an overactive imagination when you ran into their room in the morning and blabbed about your dreams with them at the ripe old age of eight.
It was only when they turned on the news that morning that they realized what had happened across the globe was the same scenario you had described in your dream that morning. Your parents were at a loss for what to do with you and your newly developed powers (even if you had no idea that you had them).
After a lengthy discussion between the two of them, they took you to a specialist in metahuman powers (who was a metahuman themselves) to try and figure out what powers you actually possessed.
After weeks of going to several appointments with this specialist, you found out alongside your parents that your powers consisted of a form of astral projection, but would manifest and grow in power over time to the point where you didn't need to sleep anymore to see into different areas of the globe at any time you wanted.
And oh, did your powers grow indeed. By the time you were in high school, you could see alternate dimensions in your sleep. You hadn't quite mastered being able to travel places and dimensions awake. Though that skill wouldn't have developed until you graduated from college.
Your doctor was an essential instrument for you to not only control but also understand your metahuman ability. If it wasn't for them, you would not have found out that you can't actively affect the events you're witnessing or be seen by the average person.
You had yet to find a person to "sense" you while you were in your 'ghostly form' besides your doctor (how else did you know that you had a transparent form when you were using your powers). That was until you had projected into Superman's apartment one night while you were asleep.
It happened purely by accident. You were up thinking about Clark Kent of all people before you fell asleep. He was your really kind and very attractive friend who happened to work at the Daily Planet alongside you. You couldn't help but think about how he had gone out of his way to grab you coffee that morning since you hastily texted him to get him to cover for you as you ran late (granted, if he wasn't late himself).
So, your subconscious decided to transport your astral form into a familiar-looking apartment that you've been to a couple of times when you guys would have your movie nights.
Superman had his red boots kicked off when he turned around abruptly and saw you in the hallway leading to his apartment.
You looked around at the familiar hallway of Clark's apartment when you saw Superman(sans boots) standing in his living room and staring directly at you. You were used to people looking through you—some even walked through you like you didn't even exist.
But Superman didn't look through you, but he looked AT you. You stood there, shocked. What the hell was Superman doing in Clark's apartment, and how the hell could he see you right now?
Clark called out your name breathlessly, and it snapped you out of your stupor. You realized that Superman could see you. You got scared and vanished out of his sight. You immediately shot up out of bed, panting, and you could feel liquid dripping down your face. You groaned, getting out of bed and rushing into your bathroom, turning on the faucet and cleaning your now bleeding nose.
You hadn't gotten one in years since your freshman year of college. As you cleaned your face, your mind was racing.
I mean, I knew Clark knew Superman, but I didn't think they knew each other on an intimate level. However, now, how Clark got all of those interviews makes sense.
You cleaned your face of the blood and exited your ensuite bathroom when there was rapid knocking at your door. Your heartbeat caught in your throat as you walked towards your doorway. You looked into the peephole and saw a disheveled Clark.
You opened your door hesitantly and confused. "Clark? Are you okay?" You asked as you took in his rumpled white t-shirt and joggers. Your brows were furrowed. How did he get to your apartment so fast?
"M'fine. How did you get into my apartment?" Clark asked, ducking into your apartment. Suppose he was going to air out his secret identity to you. In that case, he'd prefer the privacy of your apartment to having the discussion in the hallway.
"What? Clark, I wasn't in your apartment." You closed your door and said as you followed him into your living room, turning on the lamp on the end table near your couch. You were still a little drowsy, so Clark got into your place without much protest from you.
Clark looked unimpressed by your confusion. "I saw you in the doorway and then I blinked and you were gone. How did you do that?"
In your sleep-addled brain, you barely registered his words. "What are you talking about? Superman was the one who saw me, and he was in—" You cut yourself off. The realization hit you like a lightning strike.
You were fully awake now as you looked at Clark in shock. "You're Superman." He wasn't wearing his glasses, and the similarities between Clark and Superman were uncanny.
Clark swallowed thickly. "Yeah." He admitted after letting out a breath. "So, can you answer my question? Since you kinda just appeared in my apartment and then disappeared."
You couldn't help but let out a delirious giggle, confusing Clark slightly, but the corner of his lips couldn't help but twitch up at the sound of it. You really didn't think your night was going to turn out like this, hence the random giggle (or was it the sleep deprivation? You couldn't tell anymore).
You shook your head. "It's a long story." You sighed, walking over to your couch and throwing yourself into the well-worn cushions, gesturing for Clark to sit down.
"I've got time." Clark said softly as he sat down on the cushion next to where you were sitting.
So, you told him everything. You told him about your metahuman abilities and the process you went through in order to get a handle on your powers. Clark listened intently, his eyes never once straying away from your form.
"Any questions?" You asked after letting out a breath and sinking back into your couch as you finally looked at Clark, meeting his intense gaze.
"Do you usually 'project'," Clark mimed air quotes, making you smile, "into your friend's apartment?"
"No, I've got a good handle on my powers eighty five percent of the time."
"So, the other fifteen percent is room for error?"
You laughed softly. "Yeah. I guess tonight was just one of those nights."
Clark nodded. "I see. Can I ask another question?"
"Are you going all journalist on me now? I think you forgot your notepad and recorder Mr. Kent." You teased Clark.
"I don't think an interview with you will make the front page." Clark played along and shot you a smug grin.
You scoffed. "Right, because your favorite person to interview is yourself ironically enough." You shot back, a sarcastic smile on your face.
Clark was fighting the smile that was trying to grow on his face. "Shut up." But his words had no real bite to them.
"Oh please, you love hearing the sound of my voice."
You'd be right. He thought, but Clark bit back his real response. "Why tonight? You mentioned that you don't usually project at night right before you sleep." He asked his question instead of continuing the banter that was usually thrown around between the two of you.
That was the thing with your powers. Once you had gotten them under control, you never wanted to use them.
You were warned that the older you got with having your powers, the more dangerous the places you find yourself in, both asleep and while you use your powers on purpose. Yeah, your physical body would be fine—but you didn't want to sacrifice your mental health to satiate your curiosity for other parts of the world or alternate dimensions.
You bit your bottom lip. Clark's eyes flickered to how your teeth were pillowed by the fullness of your lips. You sighed, making Clark's gaze meet your own.
"Sometimes, when I don't use my powers for a long time, I project without meaning to—it doesn't happen often. But when it does, it means I have a lot on my mind." Yeah, you had a whole lot of Clark Kent on the mind. You tried looking away from Clark, but his eyes always seemed to pin you in place.
Clark could hear the rapid beat of your heart, almost mirroring his own, and it filled his chest with hope as his lips stretched into a tender smile. He shifted on the couch and closer to you. Warmth radiated off of him—even through the material of his sweatpants as his thighs brushed against yours.
"Can I admit something? Since we're airing secrets out and all." Clark's voice was gentle as he looked down at you with soft eyes, filled with affection.
You nodded. "But if you tell me that you're Superman, well, I know now."
Clark chuckled at your playful words, and a surge of confidence went through him, channeling a little bit of Superman into his actions. One of his hands found your own. "I am Superman. And it makes this easier for me to say, but I like you. A lot." He tacked on at the end as he stared at your face, trying to read your expression. Clark felt his ears turn red, and a warm blush climbed down his neck.
"Really?" You asked in disbelief.
Clark looked away for a brief moment. "Yes."
A giddy feeling started to course through your body as you squeezed his hand. "You're in luck. I like you a lot too."
Clark looked back at you, his lips split into a blinding grin, his dimples appearing, and you couldn't help but mirror his smile. You were practically turning into putty at the sight of his adoring grin.
Clark leaned in, and the sharp sting of ozone and the fading scent of his cologne emanated from him and filled your senses. The close proximity of Clark and his scent was almost dizzying—you barely knew your left from your right at this point, but you knew you wanted him closer.
Clark used his free hand to gently cup your cheek, his eyes darting between your lips and your eyes. "You're so pretty." He muttered almost absentmindedly, like being this close to you, disengaged his filter, and was unable to resist telling you now that he was this close to you.
And you were. The warm glow from the lamp behind you gave the illusion that there was a halo behind you. Your cheeks immediately flooded with heat at the sudden praise—you were torn between ducking away from Clark's adoring gaze and leaning into his palm. You did the latter, Clark's hand was warm, and you couldn't help but let it lead you closer to his face.
"You're not so bad yourself." You murmured softly as the warm light washed over Clark's face, making his blue eyes even more intense as he stared down at you.
Clark's nose scrunched at your words. "And here I thought you liked me."
You chuckled, rolling your eyes in amusement. "I'm sorry, but have you seen Superman? He's gorgeous. A real God amongst men." You quipped playfully.
Clark shook his head at you, clearly exasperated, but the smile on his lips said otherwise. "You're ridiculous, I thought you didn't like Superman?"
"Opinions can change." You shrugged. "But considering that I know you and him are one in the same, he doesn't seem all that bad anymore."
"Oh, so he's not a reckless hero with no spatial awareness when it comes to the destruction of the city?" Clark raised an eyebrow at you, amusement coloring his tone as he quoted a line from the one article you did write on Superman.
"Well, if the shoe fits…" You trailed off, pursing your lips in mock thought.
Clark scoffed. He thought for a second about how to retaliate verbally before a mischievous smirk grew on his lips. You barely caught it before you erupted into shocked giggles.
"Take it back!" Clark laughed alongside you as he poked at your ribs and tickled your sides. You fell backward on your couch, trying to get away from his hands, but it was fruitless against the man of steel.
"N-Never!" You exclaimed through your laughter, trying to curl in on yourself, but Clark wasn't having it. He managed to straddle you and doubled down on his actions.
The room was being bathed in yours and Clark's laughter alongside the soft glow of the lamp and moonlight filtering through your curtains. The sounds of joy and love swirled around the two of you as you slowly forgot the exact circumstances that led the two of you together.
"UNCLE! Uncle, uncle!" You gasped out desperately. Joyful tears wet your cheeks as your stomach began to cramp from the laughter.
Clark stopped tickling you and let his hands rest on your waist. You looked up at him. He was slotted in between your open legs, hovering over you with a lingering smile playing on his pink lips. Clark's head was slowly ducking down, getting closer to yours.
"You know," You started to murmur, eyes flipping between his lips and blue eyes, "Superman is great and all, but I like Clark a hell of a lot more."
"That's good to know." He replied in a soft tone. Clark's forehead landed against yours, a sliver of space between the two of you.
Clark let out a stuttering sigh. "Can I kiss you?"
Instead of answering, you tilted your head up and pressed your lips against his. It felt like the world went quiet as soon as your lips connected with Clark's. A surge of warmth shot through your body as you sank into the cushions, as Clark's body blanketed yours. Your hands made their way into his dark curls as your lips moved against each other.
You felt like you could stay in the bubble you and Clark had made for eternity. Trading soft kisses and caresses until you physically couldn't anymore. Every unspoken feeling and desire was poured into each kiss the two of you pressed against each other's lips, keeping them soft and tender until Clark pulled away—his hand caressing your cheek as he looked down at you adoringly. Affection was written all over his face as he smiled softly at you.
"Be mine?" You asked quietly, looking into his slightly blown-out gaze.
"You have me. You've had me for a long time." He admitted, reverence in his tone as his thumb moved against the apple of your cheek.
Everything shifted into place after that night. Clark was the most thoughtful and attentive boyfriend you ever had. If you had trouble thinking about him all the time before, the problem (not that you consider it one) got a whole lot worse when you guys started dating. If you had a dime for every time you thought about it, you'd be rivaling Lex Luthor in terms of money.
Clark was just so endearing. He'd text you randomly throughout your day, even though he was no more than fifteen away from your desk at work. He'd send silly pictures that reminded Clark of you or what he thought you would like. You don't even know how many conversations you've screenshotted. But there were a lot more pictures of him in your camera roll than the screenshots.
Sometimes, Clark would show up at your door with flowers because they reminded him of you before your movie nights. Or he would grab takeout for the both of you when you're working late on your article at home and has to practically feed you as you type furiously away at your laptop. And without fail, he texted you before and after he'd go on his Superman duties and more often than not, found refuge in your apartment after a battle.
Things were going great for a few months, until your powers acted up while you were asleep again.
You could hear the faint rush of traffic from a street enter your ears before your eyes opened. You were standing outside, on a terrace of sorts. You looked around and saw the city. The buildings looked familiar to you, but you couldn't quite place where you recognized them from.
The doors to the terrace opened, making you turn around. You saw a woman in a white dress with a sheer blue overlay draped over it holding a pencil and notepad, going to sit down at the table positioned right in front of the open doors.
The woman was a little nervous, as you could see in her expression as she poured herself a glass of wine. But as she was taking a sip of the wine, you felt him before you saw him.
"Good evening, Miss Lane." You turned around the same time she did.
It was Superman. You were shocked to see a more vibrant and more form-fitting version of his suit.
You could barely wrap your head around this entire dream? But you knew deep down this wasn't one of your regular dreams. It was your power at work. And right now, you're seeing a version of Lois and Superman—you mean Clark interacting right now.
This version of Clark didn't seem to notice you at all, staring directly at the version of Lois that was sitting down right next to you. She got up from her seat, clearly a little flustered and surprised that he dropped in so suddenly.
Lois, in her very familiar Lois Lane fashion, started to interview Superman, and you could tell that there was tension between them. They were both flirting with each other as they flew through the questions, making something inside of your chest twist. It didn't make any sense to you. Why were you seeing this now?
You stopped listening to their banter and questions as you started to spiral into your thoughts, only being broken out of your stupor when Clark grabbed the notepad and pencil out of her hands and led her to the more open spot of the terrace. Your vision blurred as they shot off to the sky—a flash of white blinding you.
You shot up from the bed with a start, falling off the bed in your shock. Clark woke up from your sharp, but loud gasp as you fell.
He got up from the bed and quickly made it to your side, flicking on the lamp to see your wide eyes. They were filled with confusion as they darted around the room. It was like seeing a cornered dog trying to find its way out of the situation they were in.
Clark fell to his knees beside you, using a gentle hand to turn your face towards him. His gaze dropped to the nosebleed you were having.
"Sweetheart, look at me." Clark softly commanded.
Clark's voice filtered through your ears, making your shoulders relax as your eyes finally met his. Your breathing was still labored as your mind tried to process the images you saw, feeling the brewing headache beginning to form.
"Can you take some deep breaths for me?" Clark's voice was a soothing balm, and you nodded in response.
You took deep breaths, exhaling shakily until your breathing became even. Clark's warm hands were on your face—grounding you even further until you calmed down.
Clark's eyes were zeroed in on the drying blood on your face. Wordlessly, he picked you up from the floor and went into your ensuite bathroom. Sitting you on the counter, he picked up a spare washcloth, wet it with some warm water, and started to wipe off the blood from your nose.
"Do you want to talk about it?" He murmured quietly, breaking the silence that had settled in the bathroom.
You sighed. "I think I projected." You said, inadvertently answering his question.
"You think?" Clark asked carefully. He finished cleaning your face and went to rinse the blood from the towel.
"It was different this time. I thought it was a dream at first, but everything looked familiar but it wasn't the same. Not like here." You swallowed thickly. "I think I saw a different version of you." You admitted quietly.
The neutral expression on Clark’s face fell. "How?" His forehead creased with confusion.
You shook your head. "I don't know. He had a similar suit to yours, but he looked different. Like completely different from you."
Clark dropped the towel in the sink, grabbing your hands with his own as he saw yours start to shake. "Hey, we don't have to figure it out right now." He consoled as one of his hands cupped your cheek. "Let's go back to sleep," Clark suggested, tugging you off the counter.
You followed him with no complaints. Your hazy mind would have gone more insane if you had thought about it for a second longer. Once you and Clark settled back into your bed and in his arms, you spoke up.
"I'll have to call Dr. Parker in the morning." You whispered into his chest.
Clark kissed your forehead. "Sounds like a plan." He muttered into your skin before kissing your hairline—wrapping his arms around you a little tighter.
You decided to take the day off and recover while you tried to wrap your head around what you saw last night.
Clark went back to his apartment to get ready for work, but not before leaving you with a sweet kiss on the lips and a promise to give him an update after you call your specialist.
You called Dr. Parker, and after exchanging some pleasantries, you explained what you saw the night before to them, in extreme detail (besides revealing the fact that Clark was Superman, for obvious reasons).
They sighed into the receiver. "I was afraid this day would come." Their tone was grim.
Your eyebrows furrowed. "What do you mean? Do you know what's happening to me?"
Dr. Parker sighed. "After discovering that you could see into alternate dimensions, I figured that one day your ability would grow powerful enough to see into alternate realities."
"H-how is that possible? I try not to use my powers at all when I can." You couldn't believe what you were hearing.
Dr. Parker said your name in a soothing tone. "I've been tracking and studying your ability since we've met, and this was going to happen regardless if you used them or not."
You felt like the rug was pulled from beneath your feet. You sat down on your couch. "What do you mean exactly when you say 'alternate realities'?"
"I don't think that is some-"
"Dr. Parker. I need to know." You pleaded as you cut them off, gripping the edge of the cushion you were sitting on and trying to ground yourself in the moment.
They were silent for a moment. "To put it simply, you can see into the multiverse."
You've vaguely heard about this theory before when interviewing scientists from Star Labs for an article you were writing on the expansion of Star Labs to Metropolis.
"I thought the multiverse was a theory." You breathed out in disbelief.
"I don't think we can discount the impossible here. You know the world that we live in." Dr. Parker said knowingly.
If aliens and metahumans can exist naturally, who's to say scientific theories aren't actually true?
You shook your head, blowing out a harsh breath through your mouth. You leaned back into your cushions. "Okay then, why didn't Superman sense me when I was on the terrace with him and that version of Lois? I mean, he should have, right?"
Dr. Parker hummed in thought. "The only idea that I have is that the distances between the universe you saw and our own is far enough to where any metahuman's enhanced senses couldn't detect you."
"Is there any way to prove that idea right?" You asked jokingly, but it sounded flat in your ears.
"Not right now. It would take multiple years to just try and prove the theory outside of your powers."
You sighed. "I figured. But thank you again Dr. Parker."
"It's no problem, my dear. Please remember to call me if anything else like this happens. Preferably right after they do."
You chuckled. "I'll try."
The two of you exchanged goodbyes before you hung up. You stared at your phone blankly. You're only hoping that you don't project to any more universes right now or in the near future.
Well, you were completely and utterly wrong. You thought that your projections into different universes would be different each time. You thought you would see various aspects or perspectives of what other universes would look like. While you did, you saw the same dynamic each and every time.
It was always about Clark and Lois.
If you thought the first time you saw them together was just a fluke. You'd be sorely incorrect.
When you first came to the Daily Planet, you weren't blind. You saw the banter between Clark and Lois they had as they parried back and forth on article ideas or random topics you guys would talk about on your lunch break. You would try to ignore the sharp sting to your heart each time you saw them interact.
You weren't even that mad at seeing them together—they meshed well together despite how different they were. You are admittedly envious of Lois Lane. You were a big fan of her work before you came to work at the Daily Planet, and once you got to know her, you could see anyone falling to their knees for her.
Lois was unabashed and unashamed about her pursuit of the truth, was incredibly smart, and quick with her wit. Yeah, she was a bit abrasive, but Lois had a confidence that you couldn't fake—it came naturally like breathing for her.
Lois Lane seemed like everything you weren't and what you wanted to be.
You tried to squash the growing crush you had on Clark. Hell, you even thought they were dating at one point and just keeping it a secret from the office until you went out with them one night, and Lois had brought the girl she was seeing to the bar you guys were at.
Each time you closed your eyes, you saw a different version of Clark/Superman and Lois, and the seed of insecurity only flourished when you woke up. It gnawed at you endlessly.
It was borderline cruel. Having to witness each iteration of Clark and Lois being together. Like they were destined for each other in each universe, and they were taunting you. You had wished that you had learned how to wake up in the middle of your projections, but once you were there, it was practically impossible to snap out of it.
With each projection into a different universe where Lois and Clark were together, you started to retreat into yourself and slowly extracted yourself from Clark.
It started off small.
You'd reply to Clark's text messages that he sent hours after he sent them, being dry as you texted him, not stopping by his desk during your downtime at work, and giving him smiles that he could see through—but you knew that Clark would be too kind to say anything about it.
You'd make up flimsy excuses to avoid spending time with him when he asked to come over or have date nights together. He let them slide, but you could tell he was worried about you and your attempts to blow him off.
It got to the point where you stopped talking to him altogether, practically ghosting him in your texts and avoiding him at work. The only time you spoke to him was short and clipped one-word responses when Jimmy and Lois would pull you into discussions before getting back to work.
Was acting this way rational at all? Absolutely not, but how else were you supposed to react when you were forced to see your boyfriend be with someone else in multiple different universes? And at the same time, you seemed to cease to exist in all of them.
Clark was rightfully frustrated and confused. He thought you guys were doing well and going steadily. He didn't like the 180 you did in attitude towards him when you seemed to act normal around everyone else.
He tried to be patient with you, but you were icing him out of his life, and he wanted to know why.
So, he pulled you into a storage closet at work one day when you were coming back from the bathroom.
Clark quickly flipped on the light. "Why are you avoiding me?" He wasted no time and started to question you.
You blinked up at him, a little confused and dazed from being abruptly pulled into a dusty storage closet. "Huh?"
Clark, the usually patient guy you knew, looked anything but. "Please," He sighed out your name. "You're avoiding me. Was it something I did?" He asked quietly, almost folding in on himself, insecurity written in his icy blue irises.
Your heart twisted as a lump grew in your throat. You never meant to make Clark feel this way. "No! No, not at all." You shook your head, trying to swallow down the persistent feeling in your throat.
Clark looked down at you, waiting for you to continue. You met his gaze, and your breath caught in your throat as you realized how close you were to him. You hadn't been close to him in some time, and all you wanted was to lean into his warmth and cocoon yourself in it. Then the flashes of the other Clarks and Loises flashed into your brain, reminding you of why you were avoiding him in the first place.
"I've just been focused on work." You said, looking away from him.
Clark said your name in a low tone, like a warning. "Please, don't lie to me." He sounded tired as he took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.
You looked at Clark, really looked at him. He seemed visibly defeated—his shoulders were sagging like he had stayed up all night and was dragging his feet in his exhausted stupor. His clothes were more rumpled and wrinkled than usual.
"I'm not." You were. "This article has been kicking my ass and the deadline is too close for me to think about anything else."
"You could have asked for my help. You still can." Clark was practically pleading to try to spend time with you in any place he could.
You shook your head. "I don't need it. I gotta go back to work, Clark, and so should you." You shut down the conversation and, faster than he could anticipate, you left the storage closet.
Clark cursed under his breath and put his glasses back on. He rubbed at his forehead as he exited the closet. The one thing that bothered Clark the most was leaving important conversations unfinished.
He made his way back to his desk dejectedly and in a bad mood. Clark shot a glance your way to see you actively trying not to look over at him, typing aggressively at your desktop.
You were staring hard at the Word document as you typed away at it. Your eyes were getting dry, and you realized you hadn't blinked in over five minutes, so you did.
You opened your eyes, and suddenly, you were standing near your desk instead of sitting down. The time of day was no longer mid-afternoon, but it was morning. You looked around and noticed that everything was the same. So why the hell was it morning? Then you looked at your desk, which was adjacent to Lois's.
Why the hell was it empty?
You were completely oblivious to the conversation happening between your coworkers until Lois stood up and switched the channel on the surrounding TVs on the pillars.
"Yeah, Superman did say that he thought that the hammer might be faking a Boravian accent." Clark said as he stared at the screen, leaning back in his chair.
"Superman said that?" Lois asked skeptically.
"Yeah, I interviewed him right afterwards. Great guy." He said with a slight shrug of his shoulders, his eyes never once straying from the screen.
"You know, it's funny you keep getting all these interviews with Superman, Clark," Lois said, almost knowingly, but played it off as a question.
"Huh, I don't think there's anything funny about good journalism Lois." Clark threw back at her, brushing off her question.
"Uh huh." Lois stared at Clark for a brief moment before going back to her desk.
You squinted at the interaction. The question of how Clark always managed to get an interview with Superman was a recurring conversation between Lois and Clark. But now there was an undercurrent of tension you picked up on. Before you could dwell on it even further, your vision blurred. The scene had changed, and you were suddenly following Lois back to her apartment. This hadn't happened before. Ever.
It felt like something was tethered between you and Lois as your feet mindlessly followed her into her apartment. There was a clatter coming from her kitchen, making Lois alarmed. Lois reached through you and grabbed the bat situated near the door and inched closer to the kitchen. She relaxed when she saw who was in the kitchen. You looked over her shoulder and saw Clark. Your Clark.
"What are you doing here?" Lois asked as she dropped the bat, but still had it in her grip.
"3 months ago, we had our first date. And so to celebrate, I am making you your favorite. Breakfast for dinner." Clark said, moving around Lois's kitchen as if it were his own.
"That's your favorite." Lois set the bat right next to the fridge.
"You love breakfast."
"Yeah, for breakfast. You love it for dinner." Lois said as she approached Clark.
He turned off the burner and faced Lois. Without any hesitation, Clark grabbed her by the waist, and Lois pulled into a passionate kiss. You crumpled to the ground, falling to your knees—your eyes never leaving the intertwined pair in front of you.
You could faintly hear someone calling your name, and you could feel a phantom hand on your shoulder, shaking it. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and with a flash of white, your eyes shot open.
You were met with the ceiling of the Daily Planet, and you felt the cold temperature of linoleum seeping through your clothes. Clark's and Lois's worried faces hovered above you, making you blink hard at the sight of them, looking identical to the ones you saw kissing in an alternate universe that seemed to be exactly like the one you were in now.
Their words were muffled in your ears, like you were underwater. They helped you up from the floor, but you immediately ripped your arms out of their grip, confusion flashing through their concerned expressions.
You could feel the eyes of everyone in the bullpen as you tried to rein back in any dignity you had left in your body. A handkerchief entered your eyeline. You grabbed it, knowing that it was for the wetness you were feeling under your nose and down your chin, seeing that your own boss had given it to you, with an uncharacteristic soft look in his eyes.
"You alright there kid?" Perry asked.
You couldn't meet anyone's eyes as you wiped your face free of blood, staining the patterned fabric with it. "Yeah." You rasped out. "I just overworked myself, I guess."
"Take the rest of the day off, and matter of fact, the rest of the week." Perry said, but you heard the worry underneath his stern tone.
You nodded in response—it was only Wednesday. You could handle missing two days of work.
"Get back to work!" Perry's voice boomed through the bullpen, making the crowd that surrounded you disperse, and the chatter around the office started back up again.
You couldn't bear to look at either Clark or Lois as you left the Daily Planet, despite Clark's attempt to try to talk to you—but Perry yelled at him to work. You used the opening to leave the office as swiftly as you could.
Later that night, you were lying in bed, just having gotten off a call with Dr. Parker. It made you feel marginally better, having an impromptu therapy session with a medical professional who was definitely not qualified for therapy—but it was good to get the images that were burned into your memory out of them.
You heard a knock at your door, but you made no move to open it. You knew exactly who was at it. You immediately slowed down your breathing, and hopefully, your heart rate would follow in its footsteps, trying to mimic the fact that you were asleep.
Clark called out your name softly, but you still heard him through the thin walls of your cheap one-bedroom apartment. "I don't know what you saw, and you probably don't want to see me right now, but I made some soup for you. I'll just leave it outside your door." Clark paused before he continued.
"Just don't push me out anymore, please. You really scared me today sweetheart and I just want to know that you're okay." You heard Clark linger at the door until his footsteps could no longer be heard from your spot on your bed.
You stayed still as you could as you took in his words. The lump in your throat was massive, and tears gathered in your eyes as his earnest and honest words hit you harder than you expected. You missed Clark. You missed him a lot. But seeing what you saw today solidified the fact that you and Clark weren't meant to be together.
In any universe.
Tears fell from your eyes at the thought. Clark and Lois are meant to be together—it has been proven to you time and time again. Fuck, you hated your powers. It effectively ruined the one good thing you had going for you, and now you had to tear it down for the universe to right itself.
Your weekend was spent wallowing in bed and trying to build up the courage to text Clark to come over to talk—and to break up with him, as much as you didn't want to. You were making a plan to transfer (escape) to Central City because you couldn't bear the thought of being in such close proximity to the love of your life when you weren't his.
Can we talk? You sent the text to him on Sunday morning.
Yeah, what time do you want me to come over? He responded instantly.
Give me twenty minutes. You texted back, knowing Clark could be at your apartment within the blink of an eye, and you needed to get cleaned up and mentally prepare for the irreparable damage you were about to cause.
You took the quickest shower ever, opting out of washing your hair and getting dressed in a new set of pajamas to wallow in after the conversation that was about to take place. Twenty minutes later, on the dot, you heard a knock on your door.
You took a deep breath before answering it. Clark stood in front of you, an awkward smile on his face as he rocked back and forth on his heels with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his jeans.
"Hi." Clark greeted you with a kind smile. Oh, that smile is going to make you crumble and chicken out on your plan.
"Hey Clark, come in." You gestured for him to come in.
You closed the door and followed behind him into your living room.
"How are you?" Clark asked you, albeit it came out a bit awkward as he fiddled with his glasses.
"I've been doing fine. Haven't projected at all since Wednesday." You told him.
He nodded, his eyes brightening at the news before they dimmed. Clark cleared his throat. "What was it about?"
"What?" You were slightly taken aback by the blunt question.
"What you saw while you projected. What did you see?"
"I-why do you want to know?" You weren't at all comfortable telling him what you saw.
"Because I know it had something to do with me and Lois."
You cursed yourself out in your mind. Clark was perceptive when he wanted to be, and it was obvious that he noticed your reaction to both him and Lois earlier that week. You stayed silent, avoiding his eyes.
Clark pressed his lips together, trying to quell the growing frustration. "Sweetheart, please, I just want you to talk to me."
"I am."
"You know that isn't what I meant. You've been so far away from me for a while now. I gave you your space, but a man can only take so much before he starts to feel unwanted." Clark stepped forward and tried to catch your gaze. "Please honey, talk to me."
You let him pull your hands into his. You closed your eyes for a moment, relishing in his familiar touch since you've deprived yourself of it for so long.
"I learned that I can see into the multiverse." You admitted. You had a written script in your mind, and now you were going off of it. Damn it, curse Clark and his addictive touch.
Clark furrowed his brows. "Multiverse?"
"I can see into alternate realities. Some look similar to ours, or completely different. And for the past month and half, I've seen god knows how many, but my powers have shown me the same thing every time." You looked down at your conjoined hands.
"What did they show you?" Clark asked quietly.
You gathered the courage to look him in the eye. "You. and Lois. Together."
Clark's eyes went wide with surprise. You let his hands fall from yours as you wrapped your arms around yourself.
You let out a bitter chuckle at the lack of response he gave you.
"Yeah, I couldn't believe it either. But in each universe I saw, you and Lois were perfect together, the power couple of the century. You know what I saw on Wednesday? The universe I projected to was nearly identical to ours. I mean, that Clark looked exactly like you and everyone else here. But the only difference was that you two were together and I didn't exist at all." You spared him the details of what you saw, because you weren't keen on reliving it at all.
Clark was speechless, but he managed to find his words. "Why didn't you tell me that this was happening?" He said, a hurt expression on his face.
"Because I didn't want to bother you. I thought after the first one that it was a one-time thing." You shrugged off his concern.
"You could never be a bother." He promised, bringing his hands to cup your cheeks, getting you to look at him. "You should have told me."
"And what would you have done about them, Clark? If I can't stop this from happening, what makes you think you could have?" You lashed out, ripping his hands from your face.
"Do you know how it feels to have the power to see through realities, to only be taunted by the fact that the man you love is meant to be with someone else? That there's proof that you don't exist in every universe, and you can't do anything about it. T-that you aren't good enough for your boyfriend because you've seen the evidence that he and Lois are destined for each other?!" You ranted, tears falling from your eyes as you expelled the frustration that had been brewing since you've been seeing different universes.
"I don't care about the other universes!" Clark exclaimed, cutting you off before you could continue.
You looked at him stunned. You've never heard him raise his voice in the two years that you've known him.
Clark stepped forward again and took your face in his hands once more, wiping away the wetness on your cheeks. "I don't care about the universes, because you're not in them." He repeated again softly.
"I'm eternally grateful that you're in this one. I will always want you in this one. Not Lois. She doesn't know how I like my coffee in the morning, or how I always manage to lose my wallet, or how I'm addicted to having sweet sugary cereal in the morning, or how I get really cranky when I don't get enough sleep."
"She isn't the one I call sweetheart, honey, or any other ridiculous nickname I come up with. She isn't my personal ray of sunshine. Lois isn't the one that I trust with my whole being or who knows my greatest secret. That's reserved for the one that owns my heart. I don't care what you saw, because it isn't true. You and I are destined for each other in this universe."
Clark's gaze was steady as he spoke, and his words were filled with sincerity and laced with love and passion, striking you hard in the heart and rattling around in your ribcage.
"I hate how good you are with your words, Clark Kent." You said wetly, overwhelmed by the sheer amount of love that you felt swell in your heart, but there was a smile on your face as you leaned into his chest, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Clark's chest vibrated with his chuckle, letting you sink into his figure as he pressed a kiss to your hairline, adjusting his grip, and wrapping his arms around your waist. The afternoon sun filtered through your curtains as the two of you stood wrapped around each other, the cracks in your relationship mending with each stream of sunlight that illuminated the two of you.
You eventually pulled back, but stayed in his arms. One of Clark's hands left your waist and caressed your cheek.
"I'll spend the rest of my days showing you that it's always going to be you. No matter what. I'll love you until the sun burns out." Clark promised, looking deep into your eyes.
You couldn't help the loving smile that stretched on your face. "That sounds like an awfully long time. You sure you can put up with me for that long?"
"Yeah, and even then some." Clark said with a smile on his face, his dimples making an appearance before he leaned down and pulled you into a kiss that sent a warmth from the top of your head to the tips of your toes. You couldn't help but smile into the kiss as you poured all the promises you'd make to each other for the future.
Summary: You get paired with Clark for the Daily Planet's Christmas team building activity
Word count: 3.4k words
Warnings: Making out. Reader has no physical/gender descriptors (except for having hair). No other warnings, just a quick bit of Christmas fluff. Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics
If someone had told you this morning that a few hours later you would be lying under a desk in the office, practically on top of Clark Kent, his arms holding you close against him, you would have asked what they’d been smoking. If they’d added that you’d be surrounded by cotton balls and both shaking with silent laughter - you attempting to muffle your giggles against the firm muscles of his chest, his bright smile buried in your hair - you would have questioned just how weird the Daily Planet Christmas party was going to be.
It started with every employee finishing after lunch for what Perry White begrudgingly announced as a “non-denominational, non-obligatory, festive celebration” including a “fun” - he’d actually winced at the word - team building activity followed by dinner and drinks, “where no one will be consuming enough alcohol to risk a lawsuit.”
When he revealed that the team building was to be completed in pairs, all made up of one person from the editorial team and one from the back office staff, Jimmy Olson had loudly complained.
“Us journalists are used to going out there and doing things! I don’t want to be teamed up with some desk jockey pencil pusher who’ll just slow me down. Come on Perry, be reasonable!”
The glare Perry gave him was enough to shut him up, but you - one of the many offended non-journalists - saw your chance, and threw up your hand.
At the editor’s nod, you spoke up over the disgruntled murmurs on your side of the room. “Can I be paired with anyone other than Jimmy Olson?”
Chuckles rippled around the gathering, and even Perry almost smiled around his cigar as he nodded in agreement and pointed out a partner for you. “You’re with Kent.”
Once everyone else had split into teams, you found your way to Clark, who waved eagerly as you approached. You’d spoken to him a few times; as part of the legal team, you often had to review his articles before publication, and despite him clearly having a very strong sense of right and wrong that often differed from what could be considered libel by the subjects of his stories, he was never difficult with you. In fact, he was as kind and friendly to you as he was to everyone else at the Daily Planet, from the editor-in-chief to the doorman, and you’d never heard a word against him. You even occasionally found yourself looking forward to seeing the tousle-haired reporter around the office, so you were glad of the chance to get to know him better.
“Are you feeling festively competitive?” He asked with his signature wonky grin, nearly dropping the golden envelope containing your task as he spun it in his hands.
“As I’ll ever be.” You smiled back, accepting the card when he held it out to you, and pulling it out to reveal the task. “Take photos representing either Christmas songs or Christmas movies,” you read, “all photos must be taken within the time of the challenge, within a reasonable budget, and must include both team members. Points will be awarded for each photo, with bonus points for originality. Judges' decisions are final.”
Clark beamed, his eyes already sparking with ideas. “This sounds fun. Do you have a preference, songs or movies?”
“Up to you.” You couldn’t help smiling at his visible enthusiasm.
“Hmm,” he pressed a finger to his lips in thought, “I think movies will be the more popular choice.”
You completed his thought. “So we should pick songs to try and get more originality points?”
“I think so.” He nods, his smile widening. “And I have the perfect idea for where to start.”
With that, Clark had ushered you out of the office and over to Centennial Park where he pointed proudly at one of the tourist carriages waiting on the path.
“A one-horse open sleigh?” You laughed.
“Jingle Bells!” He confirmed.
“Batman smells.” You added automatically.
“What?”
You shook your head. “Never mind. But you know, I’m not sure sleighs should have wheels - and there’s not a lot of snow for us to dash through.” You teased.
Clark leaned closer to you. “Oh, it’s close enough. Come on!”
After explaining your intentions to the blank-faced driver and roping in a more cheerful passerby to take the photo, the two of you settled in the back of the carriage, Clark carefully tucking the blanket around you.
“Now, we need to laugh all the way-” he’s interrupted by your overexcitable amateur photographer.
“Laugh! Smile!” He shouted directions at you. “Look in love!”
“In love? Is that part of it?” You asked quietly.
Clark shrugged, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and moving close enough for your thighs to press against each other. “Christmas is all about love! And love makes people happy, so - maybe?”
You chuckled, falling back against him as the carriage started with a jolt. “Why not? I guess it mostly makes sense.”
As the speed picked up you were ready to mime laughter, but Clark let out a full, warm belly-laugh that pulled the real thing from you, amused at his whole-hearted effort.
The carriage came to a stop a few yards later and Clark helped you climb down, both of you rumpled from the breeze.
“That's perfect!” He exclaimed as he took his phone back from your helper. “Thank you.”
He handed you his phone, and you were surprised at how good the photo was - your scarf wafting in motion, a small snow-sprinkled hump in the grass almost concealing the wheels, you and Clark nestled together mid-laugh, looking for all the world like a delightedly cheerful couple. Something in the sight of it warmed you down to your toes.
“That’s amazing! Send that to me?” You asked Clark after paying the frosty-faced driver.
“Of course.”
“I can’t believe it came out so well.” You wondered, bumping into him playfully. “And I kind of can’t believe you gave your phone to a stranger and then got in a moving vehicle.”
“Why?”
You boggled at him. “Because he could have run off with it!”
“We could have chased him in the sleigh.”
A laugh bubbled out of you. “The carriage. That would have been interesting.”
“I wasn’t worried,” Clark shrugged, “people are mostly good.”
“It’s the ‘mostly’ bit that worries me.” You said as you left the park together. “But it’s great you can still believe that, especially given the things you cover for the paper.”
“Well, I firmly believe that if you give people the chance to be good, they’ll take it. The problem is that the world doesn’t always push people that way.” Clark wrinkled his nose, pushing his glasses up. “But it does this time of year!”
“Love, warmth, charity.” Clark stopped in the street, pointing at you with mock-sternness. “Don’t tell me you’re a grinch! I will be forced to make it my personal mission to change your mind.”
You laughed. “I’m not a grinch! But if I was, I think you’d already be changing my mind.”
“Good.” Clark smiled at you so warmly it felt like a whole city of Christmas lights was sparking to life in your chest.
“So.” You began, before you could examine the feeling too closely. “What’s next?”
Dashing around Metropolis, the two of you managed to recreate a surprising number of Christmas songs. Clark clearly had no problem making a fool of himself in the process, and once you let go and fully joined in, you found yourself having the most fun you had in ages.
In front of the big Christmas tree in one of the major department stores, Clark carefully slipped a pair of sunglasses on you before leading you in an enthusiastic air guitar performance for Rocking Around the Christmas Tree.
The store assistant helping you was charmed by your mission - or by Clark - and helped find you accessories for three more photos; a day calendar you bought and quickly shredded as you recreated I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day, a large heart-shaped ornament and gift boxes for a two-part photo representing Last Christmas, and a giant ribbon you turn into a human-sized gift bow that Clark tenderly fixes to you before staring at you with dreamy longing for All I Want For Christmas is You.
“You’re a good actor.” You mumbled to him after you’d said your thanks, hoping the chill winter air when you left the store would cool the heat that had risen to your cheeks at his startlingly realistic expression of love.
“Just getting into the spirit of things.” He grinned at you, apparently unaware of the effect he was having. “Oh, how about Driving Home For Christmas?” He pointed at the slow-moving stream of vehicles filling the road.
“Do you have a car?” You asked. “Does anyone in Metropolis?”
“No, and yes - but no one I know.” He answered cheerfully. “But I think together we can make a persuasive argument that a taxi counts, right? You’re a whip-smart lawyer, I’m a fairly persuasive journalist. We make a good team.”
“We do.” You agreed, tucking your small smile into your scarf.
“Then let’s go,” Clark beamed as he grabbed your hand to lead you to a waiting cab. His palm was warm and strong as you wrapped your fingers around his - only reluctantly letting go once he’d explained your mission to the driver, who was happy enough to play along if he could keep the meter running.
A block later, photo taken, you leapt out of the taxi at the sight of a man dressed as Father Christmas to take a selfie of you and Clark that could just about pass for Santa Claus is Coming to Town. He then pulled you over to an elaborately decorated coffee shop for another picture.
“What’s this one for?” You asked, confused.
“Silver Bells.” Clark answered like it was obvious.
You laughed. “You like a lot of oldies, huh?”
“Hey,” Clark smiled, wagging a finger at you, “they’re not called golden oldies for nothing.”
He paused as something else nestled in the decorations caught his attention. You followed his gaze to the plump bundle of mistletoe hanging above you.
When you looked back at Clark, he was gazing at you thoughtfully, a shy smile playing on his lips.
“Mistletoe.” You murmured.
“Hmm.” He tilted his head up to look at it again, the glare on his glasses hiding his eyes from you. “Might be a good idea to have some extra luck? Not that we need it, obviously, but - what do you think?”
You bit your lip to keep a straight face. You heard a shimmer of nervousness in Clark’s voice that made you wonder if he’d also been feeling the warmth of the cinnamon sugar affection that had been growing in you all day. “I think there’s no harm.” You offered coyly, trying not to sound too enthusiastic. “Some extra luck is just good sense.”
Clark smiled true and wide. “Exactly.”
He stepped toward you, and as you held each other's gaze for a long beat, a tingle of giddy anticipation rushed from your toes to your lips.
Clark’s blue eyes shivered over your face before he moved closer, gently taking both of your hands in his, leaning in - and pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.
When he moved back, you saw him catch the flicker of disappointment in your eyes and his smile turned confident and teasing as he squeezed your fingers in a promise.
The jangle of the coffee shop door broke you from the festive enchantment, and you pulled your hands from his as you recognised a pair of your colleagues entering.
“Quick! There’s a side door.” Clark ushered you out of sight. “I hope they don’t steal our idea.”
“The bells or the mistletoe?” You asked as you tumbled out into the street.
Clark grinned at you. “Either. Maybe we’ll have to find some more mistletoe to get an extra luck boost, just in case. Although,” he glanced down at his watch, “we don’t have a lot of time left. Any final ideas?”
“Besides more mistletoe?” You nudged him, wondering if the slight pinkness to his cheeks was from more than just the chill air, when another store front caught your eye. “Actually, yes - I have an idea. And you’ll like it, it’s another old one.”
“I don’t only like old things.” Clark protested as you dragged him into the store.
Back at the Daily Planet, arms laden with supplies, you directed the final shot.
“So the snow globe is the white Christmas, and we can use the cotton balls to make a sort of thought bubble. Dream bubble?”
“Dream bubble.” Clark nodded in agreement.
“We should have got some floss or something to string them up with.” You looked around the deserted office for something you could use.
“Or we just lie down.” Clark suggested, opening the packet. “And do a trail of them from our heads around the snow globe. They can stop it rolling away too, if we put it on its side so it’s the right angle for the photo.”
“Perfect! Although I don’t know how clean the floor is.”
Automatically, Clark spread his coat down on the floor. “I think we can both fit on that.”
You smiled at him. “Very chivalrous of you.”
“Of course.” He bowed to you, making you laugh.
The two of you set the scene up quickly, aware that with the challenge ending, the office would soon be filling with your colleagues. As you lay next to him, you couldn’t help wondering if this closeness would keep going after today, or if this would soon be just a warming Christmas memory.
You closed your eyes in mock-sleep as Clark reached above you both to take the photo.
“There,” he said, turning his head to you as he showed you the photo, “I think that’s worked! It was a really great idea.”
“Thanks.” You turned to face him, a glittery feeling erupting in you when your noses almost brushed. “I had to come up with something to match all your great ideas.”
“Mine were nothing.” Clark murmured, his eyes dropping to your lips.
The ding of the elevator had you both half sitting up with a gasp.
“They’ll steal our idea!” Clark hissed as two pairs of footsteps entered the bullpen.
“Will they?” You whispered back with a sceptical giggle.
“Yes! Maybe. We should hide!” He rapidly swept the cotton balls under the nearest desk as you grabbed the snow globe. “Quick!” Clark rolled underneath the desk, pulling you with him. Despite pushing himself as far back as he could go, you could only fit in if you squashed right up against him.
Neither of you seemed to mind.
The ridiculousness of the situation had you about to erupt with laughter, and you clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle it.
“You’ll give us away!” Clark warned between his own huffs of laughter.
As he wrapped his arms around you to keep you safely hidden beneath the desk, you instinctively pressed your face into his chest in an effort to mask the sound of your unstoppable mirth. You could feel his own silent laughter rumbling through him, and feel the warmth of his breath in your hair as you were surrounded by the uniquely Clark smell of him.
With one hand pressed to the swell of his chest, your giggles simmered down, overwhelmed with the glowing awareness of your body fast against his. Clark’s chuckles diminished at the same time, and you were fairly sure you could feel the cool tickle of him breathing you in.
When the sound of your colleagues had passed by, you both held on a moment longer before reluctantly climbing out from under the desk, Clark offering you a hand to help you up - and holding on, his thumb rubbing absent mindedly over your knuckles as though he didn’t want to let you go.
“Now that’s over with.” Perry announces gruffly to the room once everyone’s reassembled - you and Clark having recovered your composure enough to tidy up the evidence of your last photo before the others arrived. “You can all make your way over to the restaurant to get started on the complimentary buffet while the judging panel make our decision, which will be announced after dinner. Don’t eat all the good stuff before we get there!”
Most of the staff splinter back into their usual groups for the food, and you hope the lingering glances you and Clark exchange aren’t noticed by too many others.
When the winner is announced as the Planet’s top culture critic and one of the advertising team, you can’t help feeling a little deflated. You didn’t really care about the competition, but you wanted Clark to win - and for the feeling that you work so well together to be validated.
Later in the evening, when everyone’s mingling over drinks in the darkened bar, Clark catches you in a quiet corner.
“Hey,” he smiles, the glow of the Christmas lights reflecting softly in his glasses, “I’m sorry we didn’t win.”
You smile back. “Well, no amount of enthusiasm was going to beat a slightly terrifying, live action stop motion re-enactment of the final scene in It’s A Wonderful Life.”
“Yeah, I feel like they bent the rules a bit by stitching their photos together like that.”
You shrug. “I'd say it’s more of a loophole.”
“Is that your official, legal opinion?” Clark teases.
You play along. “It is, yes. Technically they were true to the word of the challenge, if not the spirit.” You sip your drink, preparing to be a little vulnerable. “But I feel like we won in a more important way - because I had a really great time with you today.”
Clark’s smile widens, his blue eyes crinkling. “That’s a very non-grinch thing of you to say.”
“I told you I’m not a grinch!” You swat at him as he chuckles.
“I had an amazing time with you today as well.” His gaze turns serious. “I’d love to do it again some time.”
“Recreate Christmas songs?” You ask, taking your turn to tease him.
"Sure." He adjusts his glasses. “Or just - hang out with you. Outside the office. Outside work. If you’d like.”
“I’d like.” You tell him, your smile matching his.
You gaze at each other gooily until Clark straightens, reaching for your hand. “There was one part of today I think we can improve on.” He tells you, leading you out of the bar and away from your co-workers. Once you're outside in the delicate beginnings of falling snow, he pulls something from his pocket with a flourish to hold it above you.
You laugh in delight as you see the glistening white berries. “Mistletoe?”
“Mistletoe. Clearly we didn’t get enough luck earlier today.”
“Clearly.” You step closer.
“And, even if we’re not in a competition, it’s always good to have some luck.”
“I completely agree.” Your breath hangs in the air as Clark closes the small space between you, the hand that isn’t holding the bunch of mistletoe coming to rest on your waist.
You close your eyes as your mouths finally, perfectly meet, soft and warm as you press together, the brief kiss melting into something deeper as you move against each other. You let out a soft moan as Clark runs his tongue over your lower lip, then pull a groan from him in return as you gently tug on his, both clinging closer as you sink into one other.
When you eventually break for breath you’re fizzing from head to toe, eyes wild and lips flushed, one hand grasping his shirt, the other curled in the thick hair at the nape of his neck. Clark’s arms are now wrapped fully around you, mistletoe forgotten on the ground as he holds you as close as he can.
He smiles warmly as you drink each other in, tracing his fingers reverently over your cheek, looking every bit as lovestruck and dishevelled as you feel.
“Merry Christmas.” You whisper.
I wonder what these two will get up to on new year's eve...
Pairing: Clark Kent x Bruce Wayne
Word Count: 308
Audience: Teen
Synopsis: Clark reassures Bruce that he isn't going anywhere.
A/N: June 13th submission for June Jukebox Scribbles with the song prompt Town Without Pity by Gene Pitney. Lyrics in bold. Superbat art by @rmymm13 <3
Event Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3
Clark combs his fingers through Bruce's hair softly and reassuringly. He can feel the tension slowly seeping from the Bat's body. Bruce nuzzles into the crook of Clark's neck and inhales. Sirens sound on the busy street below, cutting through the steady hum of the heavy rainfall, and Clark listens in more closely to see if he can discern what is going on fifty stories below his peace.
"Do you have to go?" Bruce whispers, pulling back to look at Clark.
"No, baby, I don't have to go," Clark assures him, pulling him even closer into his side. Bruce loves laying with Clark. He's always so warm. They don't even need a blanket.
Clark has been filling in for Bruce for the past week in Gotham while he heals from an injury, and essentially keeping an eye on him. Someone has to make sure he doesn't don the cowl and rip his stitches open.
"I understand if you do… have to go," Bruce says. "Gotham is a town without pity. It's the other side of Metropolis's coin."
"Bruce, I don't have to go. It sounds like a small fender bender. They don't need Superman or Batman or anyone whose name ends in -man or -woman down there right now. Just be with me."
Bruce sighs and relaxes into him.
"What's really wrong, baby?" Clark asks.
Bruce takes a moment before quietly answering, "I'm afraid this kind of joy can't last."
Clark takes Bruce's handsome face in his hands and looks into his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. Unless a Kaiju crashes through your penthouse, I'm here with you all night. All weekend, okay? No Superman duties. Just you and me in this bed."
"What about Metropolis?" Bruce asks.
"The Justice Gang has it under control," Clark says.
"I love you, Clark," the Bat mutters as he dozes off.
I watched 'people we meet on vacation' on netflix the other night and was inspired to write a little something with clark!
wc: 1.5k
warnings.
SMUT, no use of y/n, a bit of foreplay, in front of the mirror sex, he takes you from behind 🫦, unprotected p-in-v sex, husband clark knows what he wants 😏, mutual orgasms, creampie.
clark kent taglist: @marvel-hiddles-stark @teeth-sheesh @starlit-whispers @kissmxcheek @starsmoon @averyhotchner @pinkgirlblogs @x-fanaccount1-x @mollymal @purple-soldier @rynwritesstuff @froggypoggy222 @dreamreaperrr @ellieberies @sullyosully @marymustdie @arvlr @pumpkinspicedlove (interested in joining any of my taglists? fill out the anonymous form HERE!)
✧ you're on your honeymoon with clark and he sees you in your dinner dress. ✧
Small waves gently lap against the sandy shore and the reflection of the moon shines off the surface of the water outside. Clark stands by one of the large windows, admiring the beautiful image before him. It really looks like something out of a painting, he thinks.
When he booked this suite for your honeymoon, the price nearly made him pass out, even with Ma and Pa chipping in some money to help...but the look on your face when you saw it for the first time a couple days ago made it worth every single penny.
He smiles at the mental image of the expression on your face, remembering how happy and excited you were to be here in paradise. Even now that you've been here for a few days, he still catches you looking out the window in the morning with a little smile on your face.
Today was a more chill day since you had done a lot of sightseeing and a couple of excursions within the first two days of being here, and he knows you always need some recharge time after doing a lot. So, the two of you decided that today would be a great pool day.
Clark doesn't get to swim a whole lot, so he spent most of his time in the water while you mostly stayed on the lounger, alternating between reading your book and throwing the pool toys in for Clark that he bought when he found out this resort has a pool.
Your husband, a man who is very much grown, is literally a golden retriever. A few people were giving you and Clark strange looks, considering this is the adult only pool, but the proud expression on his face when he came back up with all the toys in his massive hands made you laugh every single time.
Even the memory makes you chuckle to yourself as you put on your jewelry and swipe on some lipstick in front of of the massive bathroom mirror. He got reservations at the nicest place on the resort for dinner, so you're really bringing it with the look tonight. You're wearing a new dress, one that's got some tastefully placed cutouts, and you have a sneaking suspicion that your husband is going to be a huge fan.
Clark soon rounds the corner and appears in the reflection of the mirror, mouth open, ready to ask if you're almost ready. But the words die on his tongue and he pauses in the doorway, taking a moment to fully soak in your appearance. The dress you're wearing hugs your body in all the right places and those cutouts...they're enough to make a man go crazy.
You turn around and offer him a smile, skin already feeling kind of warm under his intense gaze. Your eyes briefly linger over him, admiring the properly fitting suit that the Daily Planet crew all chipped in to buy him for a wedding present, and you hum to yourself.
"Can you zip me?"
He takes a few steps forward until he's standing right behind you, then leans in to whisper in your ear.
"No."
His lips press a kiss to that spot behind your ear, then slowly trail down to your neck while his hands rest on your hips. You shiver at both his deep voice and the way his lips feel against your skin, letting out a soft sigh.
"Our reservations..."
You trail off when his teeth scrape the side of your neck and he lets out a low, hungry sound.
"We have time."
He smirks when you let out a soft sound, pulling up the skirt of the dress up around your hips. One of his hands reaches around to massage your breast over the dress, giving it a squeeze while his lips start kissing along your shoulder.
You let out a shaky breath, but it quickly turns into a moan when his hand slips between your thighs, rubbing you over the fabric of your lacy panties. He steps forward a bit, letting you feel the rapidly growing bulge in the front of his slacks.
Once your hips start grinding down against his fingers, he knows you need more. He always knows. His fingers swiftly slip beneath the damp fabric and he groans against your shoulder when he feels just how wet you are.
"Already so ready for me and I've hardly started...you haven't had enough yet, hm?"
You shake your head, biting your lip with a soft whimper.
"I'll never h-have enough of you."
"Mmm...be careful what you wish for, Mrs. Kent."
The pads of his fingers quickly find your clit and rub it in tight, firm circles, which has your hips grinding down on him again in no time. His free hand slides around to grab your ass, giving it a firm squeeze and a light smack, which earns him a delighted gasp.
"I can't wait any longer," Clark whispers, shrugging off his suit jacket before getting to work on his belt. "You just look so beautiful in this dress."
He gives your ass a little pat.
"Bend over for me, honey. Spread your legs a bit."
You, of course, do as he says and bend over the bathroom counter while watching Clark get his pants undone through the mirror's reflection. Your body floods with warmth when he gets his pants and boxers down, allowing you to see his beautiful, hard cock. The only cock you'll have for the remainder of your life, and you're hardly complaining.
His hand rests on your hip while the other guides his cock between your legs, pressing the head to your entrance. He presses in slowly, knowing that you still needs him to take it slow at first, even though you've done this a thousand times over the past few years of being together.
"Oh gosh," he breathes, grip tightening on your hip with each additional inch that gets buried inside of you. "You're really s-squeezin' me tonight, honey."
Your eyes roll back and you let out a moan of both slight strain and relief. He's still so big and he fills you up so thoroughly, it always takes you by surprise.
"Fuck, baby...I can't h-help it."
"I know, I know."
Clark seats himself as far as he can inside of you, then stays still, massaging your hips.
"Just relax for me. I'll stay still."
You exhale shakily, taking a few deep breaths before nodding, looking up at him through the mirror's reflection.
"Move...you can move."
He nods and starts rocking his hips, head tipping back for a moment as pleasure starts to roll over him. One of his hands comes up to hold onto your shoulder while the other continues to grip your hip. His pace picks up rather quickly, especially when he catches sight of the time on his watch.
"W-We have to hurry," he grunts. "I promise I'll make it romantic for you later, honey."
You chuckle breathily.
"It's o-okay, baby. Just focus on feeling good."
He shakes his head immediately, slipping his hand around to start rubbing your clit again.
"Can't do that, not even when we're in a rush. N-Need to make you feel good, it's not an option."
That's your husband in a nutshell: selfless and caring, even in situations like this when you're on a time crunch. You moan, pleasure quickly surging through your body.
"Good, that's good," he grunts, going a bit faster. "Good girl..."
A pathetic little whimper slips past your lips and your walls tighten around him, your orgasm clearly fast approaching. He smiles at that glorious sound, having heard it many times over the course of your relationship, but he'll never grow sick of it.
"Oh god, Clark," you breathe. "I'm close."
He nods, angling his hips down a bit to brush against your g-spot. Almost as soon as he does, you're crying out, orgasm crashing over you in unexpected waves.
"F-Fuuuck, Clark!"
His jaw drops slightly as your walls grip his cock firmly, pulsing around him.
"Oh...oh, wow...s-shoot!" he groans, pressing his hips forward all the way before spilling himself deep inside of you. "O-Oh my gosh, honey..."
You sigh shakily, coming down from your high while Clark spills every single drop of his load inside of you. It's an incredible feeling, one you have yet to grow tired of experiencing.
"Mm," you hum. "God, you're so good to me."
Clark smiles, showering your neck and shoulders with kisses as he softens inside of you, soon slipping out.
"You're even better to me."
He looks at his watch and his eyes widen.
"Oh, we gotta go, honey...we have five minutes to get across the resort."
You stand up again and laugh as Clark pulls your panties back into place and pushes your dress back down.
"Baby, you can literally fly. I think we'll be able to get there on time."
"Hm, I guess you're right," he hums, finally zipping your dress up before spinning you around to face him. "I can kiss you a little more before we have to go."
He leans in and presses his lips to yours, wrapping his massive arms around you to keep you close. You smile against his lips, returning the kiss eagerly.
"I love you, Mr. Kent."
"I love you more, Mrs. Kent."
>> clark kent masterlist for all of your clark kent needs! <<
sorry I disappeared for a hot minute y’all :( anyways, I saw something in a comment thread on tiktok and just knew I had to write it with clark lol. hopefully this at least partially makes up for my little hiatus!
wc: ~1.2k
warnings.
SMUT, no use of y/n, implied relationship, oral sex & fingering (f receiving), multiple orgasms for you, unprotected p in v sex, rougher sex, doggy style, he cums in your mouth.
clark kent taglist: @marvel-hiddles-stark @teeth-sheesh @starlit-whispers @kissmxcheek @starsmoon @averyhotchner @pinkgirlblogs @x-fanaccount1-x @mollymal @purple-soldier @rynwritesstuff @froggypoggy222 @dreamreaperrr @ellieberies @sullyosully @marymustdie @arvlr
(interested in joining any of my taglists? fill out the anonymous form HERE!)
18+ only, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
as the hammer of boravia said...THIS IS YOUR LAST WARNING!
Your phone buzzes on the nightstand and you look over at the screen, smirking when you see what it is.
From Doordash:
Your order from Round Th' Clock Pizza has been picked up and your Dasher is on the way.
Clark hears it from the living room (he may or may not have been listening for the vibration) and jogs back towards the bedroom with a little smile on his face. He leans in the doorway, looking you up and down as you lay back on the bed, loving seeing you in just a t-shirt and panties.
"Is it time?"
You nod, biting your lip.
"Uh huh. Just got the notification."
His smile widens to a grin and he jumps onto the bed, grabbing onto your thighs while your laugh bounces off the walls at his eagerness. He immediately presses his lips to your inner thighs, showering them both with kisses and little nips.
It's safe to say that yours and Clark's favorite little games is what has come to be known as "Doordash and Smash", which is when you see how many times he can get you to cum before the food gets to the apartment door. You two take it very seriously and it always borders on feral, but no matter what, it's always so good.
He moves quickly, yanking your panties down and tossing them onto the rug below. Your back arches and you let out a little gasp when he starts sucking at your clit.
“Mmm,” he hums, tongue licking at your bud.
Your head falls back and your hips start to buck with his frenzied movements. When the soft slurping noises hit your ears, a shiver runs down your spine.
Within a couple minutes, you’re falling over the edge, not even needing him to use his fingers. It never takes long when he’s frenzied and feral like this.
“Fuck, Clark…”
He smiles and takes you through it before pulling back, his eyes meeting yours when you look down at him.
“One,” is all he says before two fingers are lining up and pushing inside of you.
Your hands curl in the sheets as his fingers set a brisk pace inside of you, fingers brushing up against your g-spot with every stroke. His eyes are glued to you, watching your every facial expression and movement.
It doesn't take long for you to get close again, mostly because of his talented fingers. He knows how to play you like a musical instrument and he always has. It's also something he prides himself on, knowing your body and what you like.
"S-Shit," you breathe, squirming on the bed.
"Let go for me...c'mon..."
With one final brush against your sensitive spot, you're falling over the edge with a moan of his name. Your walls clench around his fingers, giving him a taste of what's to come.
"Clark!"
He smiles and takes you through it, leaning down to kiss you deeply. You whimper against his lips when you start getting overstimulated, and he pulls his fingers out gently.
"Two."
Before you can even begin to process it, he's undoing his slacks and pushing them down just enough to free his hardened cock. His hands grip your hips and flip you over onto your stomach. He pulls you up onto your knees and thrusts in without preamble, filling you in one smooth motion.
Your mouth drops open and you gasp at the feeling of him stretching you open. No amount of preparation can ever fully prepare you for his size, and you’re certainly not complaining.
“Oh god, baby…”
He lets out an amused huff at your reaction, starting to move his hips quickly. There’s never time during this game for going slow. His lips are by your ear, now, and he leans in a bit further to nip at your earlobe.
"Think I can get one more out of you before the food comes?" he asks, his voice husky. "I think I can."
You nod without hesitation.
"U-Uh huh."
His grip on your hips tightens as he starts fucking you faster, your body jerking back and forth with the harsh movements. He's taking you without mercy, desperate to make you finish one more time before the food arrives.
One of his hands slides down from your hip and slips between your thighs, rubbing tight circles on your bud. You moan, eyelids fluttering at the sensation. Your clit is already so sensitive from the two orgasms you've already had, and you know that it won't take much more for you to fall over that edge again.
"Clark," you breathe, legs beginning to shake. "I'm..."
"I know," he says, reaching for your hair and tugging it back suddenly, earning him a surprised gasp from you. "I-I know, you're so close, honey. You're doing so well for me, but I need one more."
Your hips begin to squirm and your fingers dig into the bedsheets as your orgasm builds rapidly. Clark can feel it too, his eyes nearly rolling back at the feeling of your pussy pulsing and tightening around his cock.
"You're almost there...just let go and I'll catch you, I promise."
Just a few more rolls of his hips and you're there, back arching desperately as the most pathetic sounds pour out from between your lips.
"Fuuuuck! Mm!"
"G-Good...that's so good..."
Clark's jaw slacks, taking you through your orgasm as best he can while staving off his impending release. He's just barely holding on, and as soon as he feels you get overstimulated, he pulls out.
"Honey, c-can I...?"
You look back at him, still catching your breath.
"What is it? What d-do you need, baby?"
He lets out a shaky breath, hand reaching down to stroke himself.
"Wanna give you a little appetizer...please?"
Your lips turn up in a little smirk and you chuckle, turning onto your back.
"C'mere."
Clark grins and quickly moves to straddle your chest, pressing the head of his cock against your lips. You hum, parting your lips to lick at his tip. He groans softly, pressing his hips forward in a silent plea.
Of course, you pick up on what he wants and you open your mouth more, allowing him to slip in further. One of his hands comes to the top of your head, not forcing, just holding on as you begin to suck.
"Oh gosh..."
His head falls back and he moans, his hand giving his shaft a little squeeze before he reaches his peak.
"H-Here it comes--!"
You happily continue sucking while his release spurts onto your tongue and down your throat. His hips rut forward slightly, groaning lowly. Meanwhile, your eyes remain glued to him, watching how beautiful he looks when he comes.
"Honey," he sighs, opening his eyes to finally look at you. "Thank you."
"No need to thank me," you smile. "Anything for my man."
That brings a smile to Clark's face, and he gets off of you before leaning down to press a few kisses to your lips.
"You're good to me."
Just as you're about to respond, the doorbell rings, and his head whips around. He looks back down at you, seeing your current state, before quickly pulling his pants back up and straightening himself out as much as possible.
"I've got it."
Your eyes linger on him as he heads out of the bedroom to the front door, smiling as a thought pops into your head.
He's all yours.
>> clark kent masterlist for all of your clark kent needs! <<
