❥Is there an application process?
🍦 ✨ Clark Kent x f Reader tw: smut, friends to lovers, more plot than smut, theres wine ig, hes sad for a sec, the only bad things are my horrible jokes wc: ~2.4k
Plot/notes: You comfort Clark (your best friend since college) after the news of his secret harem gets out.
“So, I hear you have a harem…” You walked into the small apartment, seeing Clark on the couch, sighing with his head in his hands. His blue suit was still on, red cape draped over the couch.
“Don’t. Please, just don’t.” His voice waivered, a clear itch in his throat.
“It’s not that bad.” You shrug, not that he saw. You grabbed a wine bottle from his fridge and poured two glasses. It is that bad. #Supershit is trending once again, not like you’re going to tell him that with the state he’s in.
You hear him sniffle as you set the bottle down, grabing the glasses, and walking over to him on the sofa. It genuinely hurts you to see him like this, but part of you knows that this will be fixed. Even Superman can lose hope sometimes, but the people of Metropolis will still need him. Whether they want to need him or not.
And you grew up with the man; you knew everything he stood for. And this was not it.
You set the wine on the table in front of you before sitting next to him, with one leg on the sofa, facing your body toward his broad frame. “I’m so sorry.” Your hand soothes his back. It’s your turn to feel his breathing, something he always does with you, but of course, just with his insane hearing.
He once asked you if you were ok in the office, telling you he heard your heart stutter from across the room. Little did he know it was only because you saw him laugh at Jimmy’s joke.
“I don’t know how to fix this.” His voice is strangled.
Being his best friend, you knew all his secrets, you knew Clark better than he even knew himself. You anticipated his every need, understood what his tired slurs of words meant after a long day, and above all, you understood what he stood for.
He was the symbol of hope that people would see in the sky. He was practically the one thing blocking humankind from being completely wiped out by alien invasion, supervillains, and world-ending wars. He loved the human race more than anything; he hoped for you, he loved for you, and he was there for you.
“You will.” You spoke in a soft voice, barely above a whisper.
“No, not this time. I don’t- I can’t-” He sobs in between the broken sentences.
“Hey,” You soothe him with another hand, squeezing his thigh, feeling the undeniable strength that sat right below the blue material. “You’ll figure it out. Everyone loves Superman. They all need you.”
“Do they?” His voice breaks as his head lifts from his hands. You can see the indents of where his hands held his cheeks. You should have come over sooner. His eyes are pink, lids heavy with sleep, and eyebrows drawing in with the worry written across his forehead. “Do they need me?”
“I need you.” It was more of a whisper to yourself, an ode to your love for him. When you look up at his face, you find his worried eyes filled with sentiment.
His lips slightly quirk up at the corners, telling you he heard your secretive words.
You decide to own it. “A lot, actually.” The hand you have on his back comes down to rest on his bicep, feeling the muscle beneath your warm fingertips. “I’ve been missing you recently.” You bring up his extra Superman work, the international relations, the more common alien attacks, and how he’s needed to leave plans or cancel last minute for something you later see on the news.
You barely even see him at the office anymore; the only reason he hasn’t been fired is that you keep covering for him.
“I’m sorry-” Before he can finish his guilty sentence, you interject.
“Don’t apologize! Please, don't.” He’s turned towards you slightly at this point, letting you see the full extent of his face. His beautiful, strong features glimmer in the dim light.
“You mean so much to me.” He whispers. His fingers grazed the side of your jaw. You could feel the tenderness in his voice, and he heard the jump in your heartbeat along with the hitch in your breath. “Thank you for covering for me. I can always rely on you.”
Part of you needed to cut the tension in the air. The thick blanket of reality hung over both your heads. “You seriously don’t have a harem?” You raise your eyebrows, and you can’t help but smile. “You sure? You could.” Your head tilts in a futile attempt to make him laugh.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” His face is almost set in stone as a confused yet still irritated groan leaves him.
“Do you seriously not know how many fangirls you have?” You lean in, questioning him.
He smiles. “Yeah, I know.”
“I mean… just on Tumblr alone, there have to be thousands!”
“What’s Tumblr?” His eyebrows shift.
“Um, nothing.” You whisper.
“I don’t have a harem. You know that, right?” You nod, but he continues. “I just need you to know that's not me. It never was.”
“Of course. I know Clark.” The air between you gets warmer. The comfortable friendship you two have shared for so long glimmers with every reassuring word.
“So, you were joking, right?” He questions your earlier antics.
“Well, I was just wondering if it was like an application process or something else…” He’s already shaking his head with a small smile halfway through your ‘joke’.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do.” He lets a long sigh, you watch as his broad chest deflates with the loss of air, and then inflates as he sits up taller. His 6’4” frame is all you see as you look up at him.
“You’re going to continue to be you.” You hold his head in your hands, your whole world cradled between your palms. “You will be the amazing Superman that brings hope to the skys of Metropolis. You will move buildings and stop attacks, and create warmth in the hearts of everyone who relies on you. You will prove them wrong.”
His cheek nuzzles softly into your hand as his eyes close. “Thank you.”
When there's been a soft silence between the two of you and Clark moves to lay his head against the wall, carding a hand through his hair, you pick up a glass, talking to the wine as you swirl it in circles. “I was just wondering if you were taking volunteers.”
“What?” He looks down at you from between the fingers he has settled across his face, eyes squinting, brows furrowing.
“You know.” You can’t help but smile. “For your harem.”
He groans, deep in his chest.
You’ve been giving him hints for years, although his dorky, oblivious, perfectly rounded ass could not be more unaware.
You down the wine in your hand, taking a deep breath before you look at him. His eyes are closed, hands rest on his thighs, which are spread wide on the couch. “Clark.”
He hums in acknowledgment of your curious tone, eyes still closed, head still leaned against the wall.
“I kind of… wasn’t joking.”
“What? About the harem?” He huffs a laugh as he picks his head up, fixing his hair before looking at you.
You give a short nod, barely noticeable.
He lets out a small chuckle, almost uncomfortable, before he realizes you’re telling the truth. “Oh,”
Your eyes find your hands that fidget in your lap as your chest deflates. And this is where you conclude your friendship. You always knew it would end with you confessing your feelings. You’ve known since you met in high school that your sly remarks, shy flirting, and loving eye contact weren’t overlooked; they were ignored.
A meta-human who can lift entire city buildings doesn’t want to be with the girl he calls his best friend. You knew he was friend-zoning you, but the need to tell him that when he hears your heart stutter when he grins, tells a horrible joke, or wraps an arm around you to ‘keep you safe’ wasn’t because you had heart issues ate away at you.
The many doctors' appointments he made for you only made your crush grow. It was torturous watching the most perfect man you’ve ever met lead a life without you by his side.
You were irrevocably and irrepribably in love with him. You loved the dorky way he talked about the stars, how he would tell you what Earth looked like from the moon, when he would nerd out over Star Wars, explaining the TIE fighters in detail.
You watched him grow from a young adult, trying to figure out college life, into the grown man sitting in front of you today.
“Really?” His voice was softer than usual, almost like he felt the shift in the air, the treacherously delicate ripple between the two of you.
You hummed a ‘yes’, barely able to speak, let alone look up at him. Although if you did look up at him, you not only would see your Clark, you would see his eyebrows rise with newfound promise, his pupils dilate with anticipation, and his grin grow wider with every second.
His hands come down to grab yours, pulling them away from picking at your nails. He’s going to tell you no, that you’re too good a friend to lose. You’ll have to go back to work with a weight on your shoulders, and the friendship you’ve had with the only person who has ever truly noticed you will be gone before you can blink.
“I love you.”
But…
“I’ve been waiting for you to say something.” His whispers are raspy with the tension in his throat.
Your eyes widen, looking up to see the beautiful grin you love so much. “Waiting for me to say something?”
“I couldn’t have made a move.” His face scrunches at the thought. “Pulling you into a life with me? That would be selfish.”
“Why?” You move closer to him on the couch, leaning into his warmth.
“You would have to be ok with me leaving dates halfway through, canceling plans, being like this.” He gestures to himself, his slightly beat-up knuckles, and the small scars he has on his face, which will heal by the time the morning sun casts over him.
“I love you like this.“
His eyes squint as he tries to figure out what you mean. “Like-”
“Like, you. You’re completely perfect. Even if you leave dates and cancel plans and I have to cover for you. Even if you’re annoyed about interviewing yourself or you spill coffee on me because you hadn’t slept all night. I love it.”
“We would have to be secretive, always, never fully telling the truth and never living in the light.”
“I will live with you in the darkness if it means that I get to be with you.”
He lets out a soft breath, bathing your face in warm air. “Yeah?”
“Yes.” You sit up on your knees to bring your lips to his. Meaty paws are grabbing at you, pulling you into him as he sits back into the couch so you can crawl atop his lap.
Your head moves to face down, letting you tower over him as his neck stretches back. Your hands hold the back of his head, pressing your lips to his, with your fingers digging into his hair in a deep kiss.
He pulls away, watching you blink your eyes open. “I do take applications, although the process is lengthy.”
“Oh, is it?” You can’t help but smirk, whether at his joke or the prospect of what he’s referencing.
He nods, curls bouncing with the movement.
Soon, he’s stripping from his suit, his body washing over yours as you arch under him. He hears your moans and mewls tenfold as you bite on his earlobe, letting him have his way with you, thighs wrapping around his hips for steady support.
He pushes you up the couch, drawing you back down onto him after every thrust with his weighty hands, fingers digging into your plush flesh. His lips whisper soft praises into your forehead, kissing your warm skin before and after every plaudit.
The two of you lie on the couch, his cape draped over your still naked body, and his lower half. Clark leans back against the wall with his feet up on the coffee table as you put an ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. The warmth shared between the two of you isn’t only physical. You share a comfortable love, a love that you’ve had for over a decade.
Your eyes close, giving you more confidence to tell him, “I’ve wanted this for a really long time.” Your voice breaks with how quiet it is.
And although you hear it as just a breath, a slight whisper, he can hear every syllable, every small pause, and he hears the smile in your tone.
“To be part of my harem?”
You open your eyes to laugh, “Yeah, you should really screen people before, though.”
He huffs at your joke. “Com’ here.” Grabbing your jaw, he draws you closer, pulling you into him with an arm around your back.
You look up at him, his calloused fingers grazing the bottom of your chin as he slowly blinks. If you were cats, you would know he loves you. His soft movements apex into an affable smile. His dimples show, his eyes crease, his cheeks move up to his cheekbones, and tint pink as he looks down at his love.
“I’m glad you came over.”
You mirror his expression, using a similar mild tone. “So, can I be part of your harem?”
“You can be the only member.” His lips find your forehead again, planting a long kiss as his hand comes to the back of your neck, letting you rest your head against his pectoral again, listening to his breathing.
It’s calmer than when he was sitting worried on his couch, slower than when he was on top of you; it's comforting, you don’t notice yourself matching it, but you do, falling into a rhythm with him.
Authors Note! ౨ৎ‧₊ . I thought this was a really fun way to start this, I hope you guys liked it! . ₊‧౨ৎ
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