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aliendickrocks · 3 days ago

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e.t. pt 6 // (not) Clark Kent

*If you’d like to read, please check out part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 first :)

summary: You are a scientist that is assigned to a top-secret government facility that houses an extraterrestrial subject to learn more about where he came from. In this he is not Clark Kent or Superman, just Kal-El. Martha and John did not find him, but the government did.

content warnings: (please refer to warnings in part 1 as it lists the general themes throughout this story) angst (being separated, being on the run), Clark has to fight off guards, mention of sedation/injections of Kryptonite, mention of reader being dragged away, glass breaking

word count: 2.9k+

pairing: female!scientist!reader x Kal-El the last son of Krypton

*If you’re into cutie little cringey movie-like scenes, I would listen to this song when you see these stars in the story: ☆ ☆ ☆

Your things were packed up at your place as you laid in bed. The air felt even quieter than it usually did as you lie awake, unable to sleep. It was now nearing eleven pm, and it had been over a day since you had last seen Clark.

The power was still out all around you. You knew your career was most likely over. But honestly, the only part of you that ached was the part that missed Clark.

The tension in your head pulsed slightly as you stare blankly at the wall. You weren’t sure when the hot tears had stopped flowing down your cheeks, but you were almost certain you had run out of them. Every time your mind slipped to the thought of Clark who was now alone in that horrible place, a silent sob escapes your throat. You couldn’t even close your eyes without imagining his sweet face.

A choppy exhale leaves you as you bring your hand to your mouth, trying to hold it all in. You wonder if he felt scared. An even worse torturous thought was wondering if he felt like you abandoned him by choice, like he did something wrong. You weren’t even allowed to say goodbye.

You wanted to do something, anything, to get him out. But your badge was deactivated and you were being kicked out of your temporary rental house the next morning. Your chest felt empty.

Clark laid on a table back at the facility as he was strapped down with metal restraints. His jaw clenched as he stared up at the ceiling, his mind filled with thoughts of you and the need to be by your side.

He will never forget the way you were grabbed so roughly and ripped away from him. He was immediately injected with liquid Kryptonite, sedating him as he fell to the ground and had to watch you get pulled away.

The only thing that kept him from losing his mind was the sound of your heartbeat. It was faint, meaning you were back at your house, but he still held onto it.

The thing that no one realized was with the power outage, the Kryptonite that usually coated the walls had burned out too. It had now been a little over twenty-four hours since Clark had been exposed to it.

He felt strange. And it wasn’t just the way his chest felt weak and empty not knowing if he’d see you again. His muscles twitched in a way he didn’t recognize. The feeling seemed to wash over him like a wave.

Suddenly, his jaw itched. Instinctively his hand moved to scratch it. Clink. The steel band holding his wrist was clipped effortlessly by his arm. His brows furrowed, looking down at his now free hand.

He lifted his other. Although he wasn’t using much effort, the metal easily popped off as both of his arms were now free. He began to sit up as the metal that restrained his chest and legs popped.

He stood onto the ground, his muscles coursing and constricting like they never had before. He looks around, looking outside of the glass that is supposed to be one sided as he sees a few guards.

Out of the six of them, not one of them notices the way he had just broken away from the restraints. Clark blinks as his vision begins to flip back and forth between being able to see their skeletons back to their normal flesh.

He shakes his head, confused what is happening but his mind immediately goes back to you.

He walks over to the door, grabbing it as he easily pulls it off its hinges. The extra safety bolts that had hammered on fell apart like pieces of tape.

The guards instantly scrambled as shouts and orders erupted. The rushes forward with Kryptonite injectors, but Clark was faster now. His reflexes and senses were unmatched as he simply grabs a guard’s arm in the middle of a lunge. The injector falls to the ground and shatters before Clark grabs another and easily crushes it in his hand. He barely even had to fight. Their weapons against him couldn’t reach him anymore.

He wasn’t even aware of what was happened as his feet lifted off the ground and air rushed around him as if the sky itself was pulling him upward. His eyes widened at he was startled at first, but after the ceiling tore apart around him as he shot through it, he steadied himself.

For the first time, he was free. Well, not truly free. His ears immediately focused on the familiar sound he had grown to need. It called to him through the night and he would follow it to his death if that meant he could get a glimpse of you.

He lands outside of your temporary home. He stands still, scanning it with widened eyes as he tilts his head slightly. He had never seen a house before. The sound of your heartbeat now loud in his ears made his chest ache.

He stepped forward, but he wondered how he was supposed to enter. He wasn’t sure. His hands, massive and careful, pressed against the window. The glass cracked instantly beneath his touch and then shattered completely with a snap.

His gaze snaps down to the shattered glass.

You sit up instantly in bed as your heart drops. You stand up, going to see what it could possibly be.

Nothing could have prepared you to see Clark standing in the middle of your living room. Shards of glass littered the floor as he stood in the middle of it all.

“Clark?” You whisper, not believing your eyes as his eyes meet yours. He looks relieved as he quickly approaches you.

You don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around him. He’s not sure he has ever felt this way before. First, he receives strength he doesn’t even know the capacity of, and now he is ready to fall limp into your arms.

“How-“ you start, pausing. “How are you here?”

He doesn’t say anything as he leans down to nuzzle his face against yours. His eyes are closed tightly as his forehead presses against yours. A small hum escapes his throat as he finds nuzzling up to you the most natural thing he has ever known.

You hold him for a moment. Suddenly, Clark steps back as he steps back out onto the porch. You watch as he darts up toward the sky again as your lips open in surprise, your chest aching.

His lips curve into a small, content smile knowing the two of you can now be free together. He assumes you are chasing after him and the both of you can fly off to wherever your journey takes you.

It only takes Clark a few seconds to realize you aren’t following after him. He comes back, landing back onto your porch as the look on his face is almost childlike, like he was wounded.

“You… you didn’t come,” he says, his voice low. His eyes search yours as they are a mix between accusing and pleading. “Why?”

For a second, you are unsure of what to say. A quiet laugh slips from your lips as your eyes sparkle.

“Clark,” you tell him, biting your lip to get rid of your grin. “I can’t do that. I don’t fly.”

He blinks at you, confused. His lips part like he wants to argue but then they close again.

He steps forward as your breathing hitches.

“Clark?”

☆ ☆ ☆

Without warning, his arms sweep around you as he lifts you like you don’t weigh anything at all. You gasp as you grip his shoulders instinctively.

“Wait-“ you say quickly. “What are you-“

And then the ground falls away. Wind rushes past your ears as the whole world dropped beneath your feet. You feel dizzy as fear shoots through you. All you could do was bury your face against his chest as your heart slams against your ribs.

But then, you feel him. The strength of his chest, the steadiness of his grip around you, and the way he positions his body carefully to shield you from the rush of air. He glances down at you, his lips upturning in a small smile.

“Safe with me,” he tells you. Just like you had told him so many times.

You finally took a breath you had been holding. You looked down, your mouth parting slightly at the sight. The desert was colored in the moonlight as it stretched as far as you could see. Canyons looked like scars across the sand as there didn’t seem to be any man made structures in sight.

A small laugh escapes your lips as you take in the absolute wild feeling now coursing through you. Clark’s eyes stayed on you as he memorized the sound of your laugh. His arms tighten around you slightly as if he couldn’t imagine ever letting you go.

He moves fairly slow through the air as it still leaves you with a throbbing rush of adrenaline. The way he spins you around in the air has you hanging onto his neck tightly as he gently rests his chin on the top of your head.

He drifts lower as he begins to descend careful and slow. His feet touch solid ground at the edge of a wide canyon. He gently sets you down, hands lingering at your waist as he makes sure you are steady.

You step away slightly only to take it the sight around the both of you. The desert seems endless as the sky above holds thousands of stars that are easily visible. It was just the two of you. No cell, no other people, no rules.

“Clark…” you say, your eyes scanning the beauty around you.

“Pretty,” he finishes, but when you look up at him he is gazing at you and you realize he is not talking about the scenery.

It is silent between the two of you before you look up at him again. Your smile is soft, but there is a sadness in your eyes.

“They’re going to look for you,” you tell him. “Especially with me. We have to leave.”

He starts down at you, his jaw clenched but he seemingly understands.

He flies the both of you back to your house as you quickly pack a few things. You sigh, putting the things into your car as he watches you curiously.

You open the passenger door, turning to him. “It’s okay. Get in,” you tell him softly.

He listens as he sits down. You get into the driver’s side as you notice he is stiff. You start the car as he tenses up at the sound and feeling of a car.

You glance at him and give him a reassuring smile.

“We’re okay,” you tell him. Your eyes flicker to the seat belt. You knew that he could withstand any crash possible, but you couldn’t help it. You lean over as your head presses close to his face. He pauses, inhaling your scent as his eyelids lower slightly. You grab his seatbelt and buckle him in.

The restraint against him is weak but still makes him instinctively feel uneasy as it reminds him of the facility. He could easily break through it, but he trusts you so he settles into his seat.

The drive is silent between the two of you. Clark stares out the window as the nighttime mixed with power outages makes the entire area black. Your hand gently reaches over and takes his. He looks down at them. The feeling of your soft skin against his own skin makes his chest tighten with delight.

You drive for a several hours as you focus on the fairly empty road ahead. The state you had just entered had power now as you noticed the faint lights of small cities ahead. You occasionally look over to Clark just to find him staring back at you each time.

Your chest felt fuzzy as you forced your eyes back onto the road in front of you. It didn’t seem possible that you’d ever get used to the way his eyes rested on you. It wasn’t just staring. It was like he was truly looking into all of you.

A sigh slips past your lips as you realize you should probably get him out of the plain black suit they had kept him in. When you glance down at the time it read 3 am. A breath escaped your nose.

Thankfully, there is a Walmart off the side of the freeway. A sigh of relief escapes your lips. You would be able to get something basic for him at this time there.

Clark’s hand lingers around yours as you park and reach for the door handle. He doesn’t say anything, but hesitation fills his eyes after you told him to stay here. You give him a careful smile and reassure him that you would only be a few minutes before he decides to let you go.

You decide to grab the most basic outfit you could find, something that wouldn’t make him stick out. You quickly find a white t shirt and grey sweatpants.

While checking out, you catch a glimpse of a tv that are bolted about the self checkouts. Your face and name is on the news as you are reported as wanted. Of course Clark wasn’t up there, only because the government wouldn’t be able to explain the idea of a missing being from another planet on the loose without causing mass hysteria.

You curse under your breath as you quickly check out and get out of the store as fast as you can.

The dark parking lot seems even bigger as you rush toward the car. You had no idea what you were even going to do or where to go. You had left your phone behind at the house in case anyone would be able to track it, and even if you wanted to call your family, you didn’t want to put them at risk. If they knew about your whereabouts it might be held against them.

You slip back into the car to find Clark waiting eagerly for you. You get in and place the bag by his feet as you begin to drive again.

Clark notices the shift in your demeanor. The way you chew on the inside of your lip and the way you grip the steering wheel tightly. The expression etched on your face made him feel uneasy. He would search to the ends of the earth to find something that would make you smile again.

“Are you sad?” He asks, his voice filled with concern as he tries to understand the emotion you might be feeling.

You glance away from the road to him, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “No. I’m not sad. I’m happy to be with you.” But I have absolutely no idea what we’re going to do, but you can’t say that to him of course.

After getting through another state, you decide it would be best to find somewhere to stay. You wanted to drive all the way to Kansas right to Clark’s parents’ door, but you knew that was the first place that would be searched.

You sigh as you pull into a small motel. You swallow as you think about the possibility of the person working at the desk noticing you from the news and calling to report you.

You turn to Clark, your heart clenching as you realized you had to ask him to go inside alone.

“I need you to do something for me,” you tell him slowly. His eyes find yours again. For you? Anything. is what he is thinking in his head.

“I need you to go inside and talk to the person sitting at the desk. All you have to say is ‘hello, may I have one room please?’. And then you hand them this,” you say as you show him some money.

He listens to you carefully as he nods.

“And I’ll be right out here waiting. They will give you a key, and then we can go inside.”

You have him practice a few times before having him change into the clothes you had bought. Your eyes drifted to the shirt as it was tight around his arms. You swallowed, having to force your thoughts away. He actually looked normal. Like a sexy, giant, unbelievably gorgeous man. But still normal.

Clark pushes open the door as he walks into the small lobby of the motel.

The woman at the desk perks up at the sight of him. Her eyes rake over him as she straightens up.

“Hi, how can I help you?” She asks, her voice cheery as she gazes at him.

“Hello. I would like one room please,” he says blankly, not even making eye contact as he stares at the wall behind her. He awkwardly lifts his hand as he drops the bills on the counter.

Her eyebrow raises as she watches him, but forces a flirty smile back onto her face.

“Okay,” she smiles, picking up the money. “Do you want two queen beds or one king?”

He tenses at her question. You hadn’t practiced that with him. His heart stutters as he tries to remember anything about queens or kings or what a bed even was.

She stares at him as he stands awkwardly.

“One king,” he finally answers, hoping that was right. She nods as she types something in. He lets out a small breath.

The woman gets everything typed in as she gets the key ready. She leans over the counter.

“You are on the second floor. If you need anything, and I mean anything, call down here at any time, sugar.”

He doesn’t look at her, only waiting until she offers him the key as he takes it quickly. She feels disappointed as he walks away without a word.

He pauses at the door as he remembers the day you taught him what manners were. He turns, only glancing at her briefly. “Thank you, woman,” he says carefully before continuing out.

When he makes it back to the car, you let out a sigh of relief. You get out as you grab your bag.

“You did it!” You smile, taking the key to find the room. “How did it go?”

His gaze is now on you again as his lips curve in a smile at the way he was able to please you. “Good.”

After unlocking the door, you open it to find a standard room. Your heart flutters at the discovery of one bed.

He steps in behind you as you lock the door with a click. The lights are flipped on as you let out a sigh and set your bag on the desk.

Your eyelids feel heavy as exhaustion falls over you quickly. You are tempted to just climb into the bed.

“What is sugar?” Clark suddenly asks you. You pause, glancing up at him.

“It’s something sweet that you can eat. People usually add it to things, like dessert or coffee. Why do you ask?”

He is quiet for a moment as a look of horror falls over his face. The woman wanted to eat him? How barbaric were humans?

You watch his expression as your mind begins to wonder why he was asking.

“Did someone call you that?” You ask.

His eyes glance over to you as he nods.

Despite the streak of jealous that runs through you, you laugh. And then you can’t really stop as you sit on the edge of the bed.

“Oh gosh,” you manage to get out, your hand covering your mouth. “You have interacted with one person so far and they hit on you.”

He doesn’t quite understand why you are laughing but his chest feels lighter at the sound. He sits next to you, his lips curved in a small smile. Your laughter dies down as you notice his hand reaching for yours again.

His long fingers intertwine with your own, his large hand wrapping around yours gently. Your eyes are focused on them before they trail back up to his face that is about six inches from yours. His eyes bore into yours before the flicker down to your lips.

notes: “thank you, woman” HAD ME DYINGGG WHEN I WROTE IT HAHAH. He’s so funny.

Also, is this a good stopping point? I don’t want to drag this out too much

taglist: @dmgsuki @foxin5billion @ul4lume @pretty-royals @stardrama @willow-is-a-nerd @anti-heroesanonymous @soupiemeowmeow @ghostreadersthings @love-anonymous-writer @mac-and-cheese21 @dreamlesssleepsaga @juleshadalittlelamb @monsterymoth @boba-is-a-soup @loudpiratepirate @kissmxcheek @clonesdserveb3tter @loveelylani @jackierose902109 @wpdarlingpan

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aliendickrocks · 4 days ago

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e.t. pt 5 // (not) Clark Kent

*If you’d like to read, please check out part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 first :)

content warnings: (please refer to warnings in part 1 as it lists the general themes throughout this story) angst (reader being yelled at, feeling guilty, pleading), reader is insulted based on being female (once), emotional distress, sudden loud noises/power outage, separation

word count: 2.4k+

pairing: female!scientist!reader x Kal-El the last son of Krypton

Over the past few days, you had lost track of exactly how many words Clark had learned to say. At first, it was just a few at a time. Simple things like yes or no.

But now his vocabulary had bloomed into tiny broken fragments of thought. His voice settled into a deep tone that was still cautious and hesitant but with every syllable he seemed to be getting the hang of it.

“Game?” He asked you as you had settled into his cell one morning. That made you laugh.

“How did you know? You’re so smart,” you tell him, smiling as you sit down and take a box of checkers from your bag.

He grins happily as he joins you on the floor. Like always, he caught onto the concept quickly. He studied the black and red pieces intently, and you always found yourself having to force away the thoughts about how adorable he was.

You find yourself staring at him as your thoughts trail off to those inappropriate, unprofessional, and honestly terrifying ones where you admire his cuteness. You are only tore away from them as he skips over two of your pieces, capturing them as he moves them to his side of the board.

You force your eyes away as you let out a dramatic gasp. “You’re getting too good at this.”

The corners of his mouth curve into the small, boyish smile you had grown to enjoy seeing. He didn’t laugh yet, the concept was too foreign to him. For now though that smile was enough to make your heart skip.

Over the next hour the both of you continue to play game after game. When he lost, he didn’t pout or even look upset. Instead he just studied the board with a slightly intense focus, tilting his head. It looked like he was reflecting on what he did wrong. When he won, his eyes flickered up to yours as if he was seeking approval.

You watch as he wins another round, seemingly pleased with himself. A wave of familiar guilt begins to creep up like it had many times already. It would be one thing if he was an oblivious being that didn’t understand what was going on around him. But he wasn’t. He was highly intelligent, aware of so many things and trapped within a confined space for his whole life.

“Are you bored?” You ask, your brows furrowed slightly. You were referring to the game at the moment, but really your question could apply to his wellbeing in general.

His eyes flicker to yours once more as he immediately looks taken back, like he was in shock you would ask such a thing.

“No,” he says quickly, remembering what you explained bored to be. In reality the best parts of his day were with you. He wishes they would never end. “I like game. I like you.”

Your heart stutters at his words as you nod and force a small smile.

“Okay. I like you too,” you tell him. You go to pick up your bag as you search through it and he watches curiously. “I didn’t really know what to bring. Mostly just random things.” You tell him. You take out a Rubik’s cube and put it into his hands. You show him the basic concept of it as he begins to shift it around.

“Hard,” he mutters after a moment as his eyes are trained on it. His face is adorable.

You cough slightly, nodding.

“Very hard,” you agree. “Most people can’t solve them. I can’t”

He seems to relax slightly at your words, almost as if you were giving him permission to not be good at something.

But in under another minute, all six sides are solid colors as he’s solved it. It shouldn’t surprised you at this point but it still does as your mouth opens slightly.

“Wow, Clark. You did it.”

Your voice is soft as he simply places it back in your hands.

After a few more hours, you force yourself up off the floor. You give him a soft, sad smile as you tell him goodnight.

Each night, the time you left became later and later. It was becoming increasingly more difficult to leave him.

His chest aches as his gaze follows you. His head tilts, a flicker of something unreadable on his mind as he stands. You turn toward the door, your bag on your shoulder before your heart skips. Clark had reached out and gently grasped your wrist. It was warm, large, and impossibly gentle as it wrapped around your smaller hand.

You freeze, breath catching in your throat as you look over your shoulder. He looks over you with his broad frame as his eyes intensely searched yours.

“Where?” He asked, his voice quiet.

The question was simple but you knew what he meant. Where do you go when you leave me?

You swallow as guilt rises inside of you. “I go home,” you admit softly. “To my own place.”

Something in his expression shifted, but it’s not anger or blame. It was just… longing. The kind that hurt to look at.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him. “I hate leaving you here. I hate that you can’t… that things aren’t fair.” Your throat tightens as you just want to pull him into a hug. “I just wish it could be different.”

His hand never tightened around yours. He just held you there as his eyes searched your face.

Carefully, he tries his best to select words. “What word is for you?”

You blink, confused as your brow furrows slightly. “You know my name, Clark.” You tell him softly as a soft smile finds its way on your lips.

He shakes his head. “No. Not name.”

He is quiet again as he tries to put what he is asking into words. His expression is confused and frustrated until he speaks again. “I like your face. What word for it?”

The air catches in your throat. Your heart felt like it practically melted as what he was asking started to sink in. He was trying to call you pretty.

You feel flustered, even shy under his gaze now as you force yourself to respond. “Pretty.”

His lips curve as the fainted hint of a smile tugs at them. “Pretty,” he repeats carefully.

Moments later, you are walking through the admin wing on your way out before you spot Dr. Smith leaving his office. He was the person in charge of all of this.

You hurry across the floor as you try to catch up to him.

“Dr. Smith,” you call, causing him to almost let a groan slip. “I was hoping we could speak for a moment. I have been trying to leave messages.”

He unlocks his office one more and holds open the door for you.

“Good evening, doctor,” he greets you although his tone is weary. “I do hope this conversation won’t be long.”

You step into his office as he follows. You open your mouth to speak, ask about what really happened that night before he speaks first.

“Have you found anything about Krypton yet?” He asks, settling back down into his desk.

Your heart skips, remembering that is what you’re here to do.

“Yes,” you lie quickly. “I am currently typing up my findings. I will share them with you as soon as they are finished.”

He nods.

“But Dr. Smith, I just have to ask about something.” You continue. “It says in Kal-El’s file that he was found the night of the crash, correct?”

The doctors eyes flicker up to your face, a puzzled look on his expression.

“Yes,” he answers simply, wondering what you were getting at.

“I have done a little research, and I think truly understanding him and the place he is from requires full transparency. I need to know his life, everything that happened to him. I found that-“

You are cut off by his stern tone.

“I really hope you are not going where I think you are, doctor,” his voice drips with a mocking tone as he addressed your title. “What you are speaking of is highly classified information. It is to protect everyone involved. The alien was found in his capsule that night.”

Your chest burns as he easily lies. “But-“

You are cut off once again, this time his tone even more firm.

“Enough. If we are being transparent right now, you were not my first choice for this study. You weren’t even my second. I warned the panel that a female in this position was a bad idea, that your feelings would be a roadblock in this delicate job.”

Your whole body burns at his insulting words, but you clench your jaw because you knew if you snapped, you would be removed from the study and would never see Clark again.

“Now, I suggest you take the fine tooth comb you have been using to rake through the government’s history and use it to skim your contract. You have seemed to forgotten the details of your assignment. And I expect your findings to be turned in Monday morning. Do I make myself clear, or should I find someone else equally, if not more, qualified?” He continues.

You swallow, rage coursing through your veins as you have to force a response.

“Yes, Dr. Smith.”

The next day, you scan your badge as you walk into the lab that held evidence. You knew that it would probably be a good idea to at least find something out about Krypton. Your job practically depended on it now that you had a reports due.

The guy at the counter straightens as he sees you. He stands up, almost stumbling over his feet as his eyes stay on your face.

“How can I help you, ma’am?” He asks.

Your eyebrow raises slightly. “Doctor,” you correct him. “I need to pull piece 6724954.” You tell him, repeating the code for the strange stone that was found on Clark’s ship included in his file.

He nods, but quickly stops as he looks at you.

“Okay, of course. Do you have an authorization code?”

Shit. You keep a straight face as your eyes narrow.

“I believe every moment we’re standing here in interfering with a time sensitive government investigation. I would hate to have to call Dr. Smith,” you try to say as confidently as you can.

You are shocked when he disappears quickly into the back. Your bullshit threat worked.

He returns moments later with a sealed bag that had a white label on the front. He had you sign it out as you quickly took the plastic bag and shoved it into your own.

You walk down to Clark’s cell as you begin the process to get in.

He is waiting eagerly of course as you give him a small smile. You sigh in relief at the sight of him.

“Hi,” he greets you with a small grin. “Good night?”

“Morning,” you smile. “We greet each other with good morning, and say bye with saying goodnight.” You remind him as he nods, locking that into his memory.

You begin your usual routine as you sit with him. He had requested more pictures of you, so you decided to print some out and bring in a stack.

His eyes light up as he takes the huge stack quickly, accepting them like they were the best gift in the entire world.

As he flips through your photos, you pull out the bag that contained the stone as you stare at it. You sigh.

“They found this with your ship,” you explain to him. You open the package as you take it in your hand. It is small, surprisingly heavy, slightly coarse, and has an unfamiliar emblem on the front. Your brows furrow as you study it in person. “It sort of looks like an S. I know you were just a baby, but this doesn’t look familiar to you, does it?”

When he doesn’t reply, you look up to him to find him staring intently at a picture. Your eyes fall to the picture as you notice it’s one of you in a bathing suit at the beach with plenty of skin showing.

“Clark,” you say sternly, your body burning as you have to hold back a laugh. His eyes move up to your face, but his expression holds no regret, bashfulness, or any trace of feeling like he’d been caught.

“Yes?” He asks. He sets the stack of pictures down, wanting to give you his full attention.

You grin, realizing how innocent he really was. “I asked you about this.”

You hold it out to him as he stares at it for a moment.

His fingers brush yours as he takes it. His large hand envelopes it as it falls flat into his palm.

His brows furrowed, confusion etched across his face. He didn’t seem to recognize it.

Then, all at once, the symbol began to glow.

A bright gold light flickered out from the carved surface and casted the room in a sharp glow. The air around both of you trembled with energy as a rumbling hum filled the space.

Your breathing catches as the rising pitch thunders in your chest. Clark’s head snaps up toward you immediately as he moves closer, taking your arm in a protective instinct.

The hum built to a loud roar and then, with one final flash, the lights died out. It left you both in the dark as you sat in silence.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke as your heart pounded in your chest. Clark’s hand still held you gently as if he was preparing to take on whatever might come next.

But nothing did. Only silence.

Hours later, you find yourself in Dr. Smith’s office. Your hands shake as your heart hammers. The stone had been confiscated and Clark had been contained.

Dr. Smith’s face was a deep red as he tore into you. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” he barked.

“I just wanted to-“

“Don’t you dare,” he cut you off, jabbing a finger toward you. “You removed classified evidence without clearance. And thanks to whatever that alien did with your little stunt, the power grid in six states is offline. Six. Highways, hospitals, entire cities in the dark. And no one has any idea how to fix it.”

Your throat burned as you tried to explain. “I didn’t know that would happen. He didn’t either. Please, just let me-“

“Enough!” He booms. “You are lucky I don’t have you locked up in a cell until we figure out what just happened. You don’t understand the level of this, and frankly, you’ve proven you can’t be trusted.”

Your chest burned as you shake your head. “Please, don’t do this. I can help. He trusts me.”

“You are dismissed, doctor. You are very lucky I don’t change my mind and have you put in prison. Now leave before I do.”

***Here is part 6 :)

notes: OKAY, I KNOW THIS ONE WAS SAD TOO. But I promise I think you’ll really like the next part ;)

Thank you for reading ily muah💋

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aliendickrocks · 5 days ago

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third // Clark Kent, Lois Lane, and you

summary: Lois Lane and Clark Kent have been together for years. They are a solid couple who share everything, even dreams. For Lois, one dream she can’t shake is the longing for a woman’s touch alongside the man she loves. After months of searching and disappointment, they finally meet you. What begins with shy smiles over drinks soon turns into late night dinners that eventually turn into a night none of you will ever forget.

content warnings: smut, poly relationship, established relationship between Lois and Clark, bisexual Lois Lane, bisexual reader, wlw, fingering of reader, some fluff, p.i.v sex, kissing, reader’s hair mentioned twice, first time poly relationship, minimal physical description of reader, some fluff, aftercare

word count: 2.9k+

pairing: clois x female!reader

***I am a slowburn loving and detailed writer through and through. If you just want to read the smut scroll down until you see these hearts: ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

It wasn’t like Lois Lane and Clark Kent needed anyone else in their relationship. They had been together for years, deeply in love and built a bond most people couldn’t even dream of.

Lois had always been honest with Clark about who she was, as he could be with her. The truth about her was a little more mild than being a world saving alien from another planet, she was just bisexual. She adored every part of Clark but something inside her ached for something softer and different. She was sure it could only be soothed by the touch of another woman.

At first, the idea of adding a third had been nothing but a late night conversation. Clark had been drawing lazy circles against her bare skin after sex. Between tangled sheets and tossed around pillows, she looked up to him and asked him without hesitation.

“What are your thoughts on adding a third?” She asked.

Clark, who was cautious in the same way in everything he did, was confused at first. He was slow to warm up to the thought. But over time he saw that Lois’ yearning was genuine and began to understand what she was getting at. She didn’t dream of replacing anything that they had, but instead only wanted to enhance it. Just add someone who could share the kind of love they built.

So their search began. The tips of Clark’s ears burned at the thought of being put on a dating app. It wasn’t like he needed any more attention on Clark Kent than absolutely necessary, especially with something like this. Being from a small town in the Midwest, he was still trying to get used to the thought of a nontraditional relationship like this.

Eventually, he agreed to it under the condition Lois didn’t show his face in their profile.

Months passed of Lois scrolling through their dating apps with no luck. She had even convinced Clark to go to these events around the city designed for couples to find their “unicorn”.

“They have those?” Clark asked, a look of bewilderment on his face. But of course he agreed due to the natural nature of wanting to make Lois happy.

The nights usually consisted of forced smiles and silent walks back to their apartment. Clark’s hand gently stroked her back, trying to find the words to comfort her as he could tell she was more disappointed than she led on.

Although Clark was skilled at holding a calm, comforting demeanor, deep down he felt disappointed too. He reassured Lois that someone who was meant for them was out here as he slowly began to crave that person a little more.

Lois had been curled up on the couch with Clark one night. A half empty glass of wine rested in one hand as she scrolled on her phone with the other. She told herself she wouldn’t spend too long on the app tonight and she wasn’t going to get her hopes up. She just wanted to scroll for a while, maybe distract herself before they went to bed.

And then she stumbled across your profile. Her thumb froze mid scroll, her breath catching in her throat. God, you were gorgeous. Genuine, striking, with a smile that made Lois’ heart stutter. You were younger than both of them. She scrolled down to read a little more of your profile. Attending a university downtown, from Massachusetts, open to getting to know people and seeing where it leads.

It seemed to be a standard dating app profile until her eyes landed on a word that made her heart stop. Bi.

“Oh my God,” she whispered, her voice sharp enough to make Clark glance down at her where he was lazily flipping through the channels.

“What is it?” he asked, brow raised.

Lois smacked his arm, practically bouncing upright. “Look at her, Clark. She’s… she’s perfect. And she’s bi!” Her words came from her mouth in a rush, breathless and eager, her excitement filling the room.

Clark glances down at the phone screen. His heart skips at the picture of you, but he had to swallow. He wanted to say that doesn’t mean she’s looking to walk into an established relationship and become a throuple, but his heart doesn’t allow himself to say that to Lois.

He just nods, his eyes still on her screen. “Pretty,” he says simply.

“Pretty? Pretty, Clark, seriously? She’s fucking hot,” she grins. “Tell me the last time you saw someone like her around here.”

Clark glances at her choice of language but can’t hold back the small grin on his lips. He goes back to the tv as the sounds of Lois’ eager fingers tap out a reply quicker than he had ever seen her text. He wouldn’t allow himself to get his hopes up too high.

A couple days pass as Lois sulks around. No reply from you. Every time her phone buzzed, her heart would leap only to sink again when it wasn’t you.

One night, Clark was just about to take her phone from her hands to give her some attention before she shot up from the couch.

“She replied!” She squealed.

From that point on, it was easy. Conversation flowed like you’d known each other longer than a handful of messages. Flirty jokes and playful banter came from Lois as your replies were warm but slightly bashful. It honestly clicked so naturally that after about a week, you’d agreed to drinks with both her and Clark.

The first night you met in person, Lois had been bracing herself for disappointment. Most of the women they’d seen before drifted toward Clark first but how could she blame them? He was tall, impossibly handsome, with a soft, gentle smile that made people melt. Lois loved him for it but it always stung when she felt like an afterthought in what was supposed to be their search.

You were different. You noticed Clark of course (you’d have to be blind not to) but you seemed to naturally gravitate toward Lois. She saw it in the way yours eyes lingered on her, or the way you laughed at her jokes, or how you leaned in subtly closer when she spoke. Clark was kind and easygoing, and you clicked with him too, but with Lois? There was a spark neither of you could deny.

Drinks turned into dinners. Dinners turned into more nights out and more excuses to be near each other. Eventually, nights out turned into nights in, until one evening, you found yourself in their apartment, straddling Lois’ lap on the couch as her mouth claimed yours that left you dizzy.

The different between Clark and Lois was huge. It wasn’t just their personalities, but also the way they did everything. Lois’ kisses felt like she was clinging to you like you were the last person on earth. Her mouth was feverish and needy as she stole every sound from your throat. Her soft hands always roamed your body, squeezing, caressing, and pulling you closer.

Clark was different. He was gentle and more slow. His rougher hands held you like you were something fragile and precious. Making out with him was passionate and still breathtaking just the same.

Lois’ lips continued to attack yours as you gently pull away, your breath heavy. “I feel bad,” you say against her mouth as she presses her lips to yours again. “Shouldn’t we help him clean up?”

Lois ignores you at first as a smirk creeps onto her lips. She attaches her mouth to your neck, pressing kisses there now.

Clark heard you, of course, his enhanced hearing picked up every word. From the kitchen he glanced over, catching the sight of Lois’ hands tangled in your hair as her mouth was red and swollen from kissing you. Desire pooled in his chest, heat climbing as he tried to ground himself by glancing back down at the plate he had.

“No way” she says slowly against your skin, this time nipping at the spot under your ear. “He doesn’t mind. And needs some time to get used to this.”

After a few minutes of making out with Lois, Clark now joins the both of you in the living room as he sits down on the couch.

Lois tosses you into his lap as his arms circle around you gently. You aren’t sure if you’d ever be able to be passed around without a wave of desire washing over you.

Clark’s hands are more soothing than Lois. One rests on your hip as he presses a kiss to your hair. You are still out of breath.

Lois can’t seem to bare being without your touch for long. She crawls over to the two of you as her hands rest on your thighs.

“Stay the night?” She asks, her eyes hopeful. “It’s already late.”

You blink as you feel the heat flare inside of you. You had never spent the night before, and Clark seems to be just as taken back as he tenses slightly under you.

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

That night you lay in their bed, sandwiched between their bodies. Clark’s arm is wrapped around your waist as Lois kisses at your shoulders and neck. She has forced herself to calm down, knowing it was a new experience for all of you.

“We’ve talked about this. A lot. Clark and I… we’ve both thought about what it would be like to be with you in that way. And Gosh, we’re excited. Like, ‘pinch me, is this real’ excited.” Her laugh was breathless, but then her voice softened. “But there’s no pressure. Not tonight. Not ever. You don’t owe us anything. We’re just so happy you’re here with us.”

You smile gently at her as Clark gently rubs his thumb against the skin of your hip. He leans in, bis breath warm on your neck as he nods slightly.

“We’ve been looking for you for so long,” his voice is deep as it sends a shiver down your spine. “But only if you want this and are comfortable. You don’t have to decide anything tonight.”

You turned slightly, caught between the way Lois’ eyes burned into yours and the safety of Clark’s embrace. Your lips parted before you could stop yourself. “I want this. I want both of you.”

Eventually, you found yourself pressed against the mattress as both of their hands explored your body. Your clothing was slowly stripped away piece by piece as you felt like you were on fire.

Your breathing caught after your legs were coaxed open by Lois. Her thumb gently parted your slits as she found your clit. You hummed softly as Clark watched in awe, holding onto you.

A delicate finger slipped inside of you as Lois’ breath caught at how slick and tight you felt around her. You bit your lip, letting a moan escape your lips before Clark’s warm mouth presses into yours.

Lois watched as she pumped her finger in and out of you. You lying there, bare skin, beautiful tits, completely open for her. The way her man hushed you by claiming your mouth with his own sent a shiver down her spine. She eventually added a finger which caused you to twitch around her.

Lois’ fingers were skilled, using your sounds and subtle movements to get you right where she wanted you. They curled gently inside of you.

Clark eventually pulled away, his blue eyes now dark with a desire you haven’t seen before as he kisses your neck.

“So perfect,” his voice is low and gravely.

“That’s it beautiful, go ahead and cum for me,” Lois says softly.

Lois watches as you orgasm for the first time with her. Your thighs twitch, back arching slightly as you let out a small cry. It was nothing like a porn scene, instead this beautiful display of love and pleasure as you creamed around her fingers.

Your chest heaved up and down quickly as you watched Lois bring her fingers to her mouth. Clark sits up slightly as he grabs her wrist and brings it to his mouth.

“Hey,” Lois says, laughing lightly as he wraps his lips around her two fingers. “That’s mine that I worked for.”

You feel like you could just die under them, your chest fuzzy with slight embarrassment as you can’t help but let out a small giggle.

Lois leans down to capture your lips in hers. She presses against you as your hands find her hair. Slowly, your hands begins to trail down her body as they try to undo her pants.

She shakes her head, removing her lips from yours as they press against your neck. “No. Tonight is about you.”

Clothes fall away easily as Lois and Clark take turns kissing you. You can barely catch your breath before a new set of lips is on yours.

Eventually, Lois moves so she is under you. Your bare back presses into her naked chest, her tits against your soft skin. Her hands find your hips as she adjusts you so your ass is pressed right into her.

Her lips find your shoulder, kissing your bare skin. But you can barely even notice the small kisses at the way Clark’s eyes burn into your naked body.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” Lois whispers into your ear before placing a kiss there. “You have no idea how perfect you are to us.”

Your breath catches as Clark finally gets his boxers down, his hard, throbbing cock finally free. Your eyes widen at his size. He was huge.

“So pretty,” he mutters, his eyes glazed over as they run over your body. You pussy glistens as Lois has your thighs parted on top of her.

Lois senses your tenseness as she softly squeezes your hips. “It’s mind blowing, babygirl,” she smirks next to your head as she places another kiss.

Clark eventually finds himself hovering over both of you. Lois’ strokes are gently against your skin as she places soft kisses. The way she held you made this moment even more intimate.

Clark’s lips found yours as he kissed you passionately. Your lips were already swollen, heart already beating out of your chest as he pressed his torso teasingly between your heat.

“You’re precious,” he says against your lips. “We’ll take care of you.”

All you can do is look up at him as he slowly positions himself between your legs. He hisses quietly as the tip of his cock can already feel the dripping wetness of you. Lois’ hands hold open your thighs as her chest burns. She kisses your ear again.

Clark moves forward slowly as about an inch of him slips inside of your cunt. He pauses, almost ready to collapse and cum right there. This was always his favorite part, the point of slipping in and hearing the tiny gasp of a woman. Feeling the new sensation of an unfamiliar pussy made his head spin even more.

“That’s it baby, just feel him. Let us love you,” Lois whispers into your ear as she lovingly caresses your hip.

Clark continues as he inches further into you. Your walls grip around him tightly as he lets out a ragged breath.

Your soft sounds of pleasure fill the room as Clark slowly starts to find a rhythm. His size stretches you out as Lois continues to whisper sweet things to you.

Clark presses another kiss to your lips, drinking in every quiet sound you make as you squirm against Lois. You were perfect to them.

Lois could tell you were close by the way your hips moved. Clark was slowly pouring his hips into you as the sound of skin slapping skin filled her ears.

Her hand brushed down your stomach until one of her fingers found your clit once more. Your eyes widened as a choked cry slipped past your lips. You tightened around Clark as you began to pulse.

“Oh goodness,” he hissed, his large hands finding your hips to try to ground himself. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Let it happen”

“We’re right here. Just fall into us, pretty girl.”

Their words put you over the edge. Your back arches gently as you feel your thighs shake, cumming all over his cock. Your breathing is labored as Lois feels like she could never get used to your sounds.

“That’s it, that’s my girl,” she smiles as Clark continues to thrust in and out of you. Your sensitive pussy throbs around him as your mind feels like it’s spinning.

Clark sucks in a breath as he pauses his strokes, letting his warm cum spill deep inside you. He kisses your neck several times as he feels himself twitch inside of you.

He slowly pulls out as your thighs still shake slightly. The best part about aftercare in a threesome is that even as Clark gets up to get a towel, there is still someone there to snuggle you.

Lois holds onto as she presses kisses to your temple. “You are so perfect for us. So beautiful.”

Clark comes back with a warm cloth. He gets back into bed as he gives you a soft smile. He wipes you down, his touch gentle as his eyes rake over your beauty.

“You are so beautiful,” he says, his gaze now on your flushed cheeks.

His lips press against your soft cheeks as he tosses the towel to the side.

You spend the rest of the night between the both of them. Their eyes never leave you as they gently stroke your body, looking at you like you were the most beautiful thing they had ever laid eyes on. They worshipped you.

Eventually, your eyelids feel heavy as you drift to sleep. Your breathing is softened as Clark glances up to Lois, who is gently stroking your jaw with her thumb.

“This is the best idea you have ever had, Ms. Lane.”

notes: GUYS. Can you imagine?!?!?!?!! I have no words, truly

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aliendickrocks · 7 days ago

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e.t. pt 4 // (not) Clark Kent

*If you are interested please read part 1 | part 2 | part 3 if you have not :)

content warnings: (please refer to warnings in part 1 as it lists the general themes throughout this story) Slight angst with reader being angry at beginning, affection, teaching/learning to speak

word count: 2.1k+

pairing: female!scientist!reader x Kal-El the last son of Krypton

Monday morning, you storm into the facility with only one thing on your mind: answers. Since your discovery over the weekend, your chest burned with anger you couldn’t remember ever feeling before. How the government could take a baby, a baby who looked and acted as a human, from the arms of people who had nothing but pure intentions of loving and raising him was unethical on every level. And then to bury him, along with the information away like nothing ever happened?

The thought clawed at you. Not just because of how cruel it was, but because you knew you could never truly learn from him if the truth was kept hidden. You needed to know every detail.

Your calls to the doctor who oversaw everything in this study went straight to voicemail over the weekend. You marched straight to his office just to find it dark and locked. Typical. He would be late the day you were in the mood to grill him.

You let out a sigh and shut your eyes. You needed to calm yourself. Your mind naturally drifted to Kal-El, or Clark now.

You adjust the bag on your shoulder. Inside held the picture you had received from the couple who found him. You had hid it inside the pages of a notebook, along with the baby blanket. Security let you through without issue, which relieved you. Your heart raced at the thought of showing them to him.

The walk to his cell felt longer today. He on the other hand seemed to feel the same way.

He noticed your absence as soon as you left the area on a plane to Kansas. His heart ached as he lost the sound of your heartbeat he had grown to seek comfort in at all times. He had no way of telling time in his cell, but somehow knew the two days were a much longer wait after seeing you daily for five in a row. Feelings of abandonment and anxiety filled his chest as he lay against the wall, hopeless. His only sliver of comfort was the picture he had kept of you as he stared at it for hours at a time. His forehead pressed to the wall as he leaned against it, feeling as if it would somehow bring him closer to you.

That was until he heard your heartbeat as soon as you hit the base gate this morning. It was faint at first, but he would recognize it anywhere. He perked up, his heart hammering loud in his chest as he waited. Relief flooded through him so much it almost hurt.

During your walk, it crossed your mind that you really hadn’t done much to learn of Krypton. You had taken no notes, been unsuccessful of even hearing a sound from him, and really didn’t know much other than the way he had been cruelly treated. You knew the kind of results that would be expected and demanded of you, yet you couldn’t find yourself to care much. At least not now. Building a relationship would not only help you learn him, but it also made you feel warm inside. But you couldn’t exactly admit that to anyone.

You scan through the last metal door that led to the chamber that had his cell in it. You immediately notice the way he is pressed to the door. A small grin creeps onto your lips as you notice the excitement in his expression the moment he sees you.

The guard watches him with a look of disgust, ready to pounce on the opportunity to disable him if needed. You walk over to the door and begin the process of unlocking it. The code input and finger scan are obviously taking too long for Clark as his gaze bores into you.

He watches you impatiently, pressing a hand to the glass as if he was rushing you to hurry up and just be next to him already. His chest rose and fell quickly.

Your smile is soft as you pull the badge from your coat, ready to scan it as you press your hand to the glass too.

The door beeps as it clicks open. You step inside, his eyes immediately lighting up as you smile at him while shutting the door behind you with a sealed hiss.

“Good morning,” you greet him, taking your bag off as you set it down. He just watches you, the usual words or actions of greeting someone seemingly on the tip of his tongue. Oddly enough, the way he was staring at you didn’t feel awkward. It was comfortable and so him.

You decided to be honest and continue to speak to him like he was anyone else.

“I missed you.”

Your voice is soft as he watches you. You hesitate, wanting him to understand. You decide to hold up both hands, your palms up as you hope he eventually trusts you to touch him.

His blue eyes gaze down at them as he tilts his head. You stand there, letting him take his time in watching you to see if he will respond.

After a moment, he reaches up and places his hands on top of yours. They are warm and hold a certain strength that you knew could never be used against you. He was too gentle. His pulse hammers as the feeling of his skin against yours.

His brow furrows slightly as he wonders if this is right or what you wanted. But the way your smaller hands close around his causes a shiver down his spine. He blinks, his eyelids now slightly heavier as he notices every detail and touch. The softness of your skin, the way your thumb gently strokes the top of his hand, your calm demeanor. His fingers shift against yours, curling slightly as if he never wanted to let you go.

“Did you have a good weekend?” You ask. His eyes slowly move up to your face as he lets out a small sigh. The look on his features tells you that he is relaxed and comfortable.

After a few minutes you decide to sit down with him. He watches you with heightened anticipation as you open your bag, remembering all of the things you had brought him the week before.

Your fingers brush against the softness of the blanket inside. You take it out slowly, watching his expression.

“This is called a blanket,” you tell him, your voice careful. You wanted to tell him it was his, call him by his name. But you knew the cameras were constantly on and it was a risk that wouldn’t be worth taking.

“It’s soft,” you say, showing him the way you pet it gently. His body is still as he watches you.

You decide to hold it out to him. Careful hands reach out until he takes it, feeling the instant plush of it.

He suddenly pulls it close, cradling it against his neck. A low sounds escapes him that sounds like it’s between a sigh and a hum. His blue eyes flutter close as he breathes in a scent he didn’t remember, but somehow it comforted him and made him feel warm. The softness itself was foreign to him too, something he had long forgotten within the for sterile walls of his cell. The fact that it came from you made it mean even more.

His eyes stay closed briefly as his breaths are calm. His chest rises and falls deeply.

The sight made your throat tighten. You swallow and try to pull yourself together.

“I have something else, too.”

His eyes open as he hears your voice, focusing on you.

You take the picture out next as you hold it between your fingers and offer it to him. He remembers the concept of a picture from last time as he takes it.

His brows furrow as he searches the face of the picture. They dart across the image as if searching for something, or someone. You. When he couldn’t find you a small huff of air escapes his nose.

But then his gaze shifts. He looks at the woman in the picture holding a baby. His eyes trace the outline of their faces. He stared so long that you wondered if he could somehow feel the warmth trapped inside the captured moment.

His eyes caught the small detail of a blue blanket wrapped around the baby in the picture. Slowly, he lowers the photo as he looks down to the own fabric in his lap. He noticed it is the same color.

He stares for another moment before looking back at the picture. Then, to you. The two humans in the photo seemed to be close. He wanted to be close to you.

Before you could even realize what he was doing, he moved. His shift was sudden as his large body lowered until it pressed into your legs. You suck in a breath as he settles carefully on top of you.

You stiffened under him. His weight was overwhelming as his solid muscle settles into your thighs. He seemed to pin you in place, but the gentleness of him undid something in you. His movement was nothing of dominance but reminded you more of a surrender. No words escape your lips as you began to relax.

At the same time, he began to move to make himself small. His head dipped slightly until it rested against your shoulder as the blanket was still tucked under his arm.

His weight pressing into you was slightly crushing, making breathing now a small effort but you could never push him off. Your hand found his back as you gently rub it.

His breath caught in his throat at the feeling of your soothing hand against his back. He stayed there as he let out the breath and it turned into a slow, steady rhythm. His eyes blinked as he slowly took in the scent radiating off your neck.

Although he enjoyed watching your face, he could not help the urge to let his eyes flutter shut. You continue to stoke his back as your heart thudded in your chest. He was so sweet, so loving, and so affectionate. Of course he would crave cuddles.

Later that day, you try to work with Clark some more. You had brought out the notebook again. He really seemed to like the game of tic tac toe, which only took a moment for him to understand the concept. You had now filled six pages of small games with him as he had found a strategy that seemed to let him win each time. He started in all the corners and was successful almost every time.

You find yourself watching him as he plays. His eyes fixed on the paper, pausing each time before his turn as you could almost see him strategizing. You find your eyes drifting over the rest of his figure. It was very rare that you had found yourself flustered over a man, even when you were younger. You just didn’t have time for them.

But you couldn’t deny Clark was gorgeous. His eyes were the most beautiful blue you had ever seen, and they held more emotion than you could imagine. You weren’t sure how he could be so expressive without ever saying a word until you focused on his eyes. His dark hair and strong jaw also complimented him well. You watched as the way his lips pressed together in concentration. They looked so soft and pink, and the way a small huff escaped them when he realized he most likely wasn’t going to win causes a fuzzy feeling in your chest. He was so human.

Your eyes continued to watch him as he hadn’t made his decision yet. Even after never leaving these four walls, he was built. His broad shoulders and dense chest were shown through the black suit they had put him in. His arms were thick, and the flexed every time he went to pick up the pen for his turn. You had to force your eyes away.

Next, you showed him how to play hangman. It only took a moment for him to understand the concept. He had memorized the twenty-six letters in the alphabet quickly as he tried to guess at the phrase you had written. He didn’t speak yet, instead just writing his guess down on the side of the paper.

You smile as you put the last leg on the stick figure, looking up at him as he realizes you had won. He looks at you again as he seems slightly amused. Then, he smiles.

It is a small one that only reaches the corner of his lips, but it’s still a smile. Your chest feels tight as you set down the pen. You wonder what he could possibly be thinking.

His heart thumped a little louder while looking at you. Whenever his eyes landed on you it was as his entire world shifted. His eyes, which were impossibly blue under the bright lights, softened in a way that made your stomach feel tight. He let out a soft sigh. He didn’t just see you, he adored you.

Deep down inside he wished he could understand this feeling. His mind was filled of you at all times as you were his whole world now. He would do anything to be able to follow after you when you leave.

You try to look down at the game once more to flip the page, but your eyes flicker back up at him to find him still staring. His gaze was so unhurried and unashamed. Heat creeped up inside of you as you cleared your throat and forced yourself to look away again.

You sigh, picking up the picture of him as a baby that is now on the floor. You smile sadly, glancing up to him as you decide to start talking again.

“This was you,” you tell him quietly. “You were just a baby. And you had people who loved you very much.”

He watches you intently as you talk.

“Your name is Clark.”

It is silent for a moment and you are about to keep speaking until you hear something small. You glance up at him to find his lips parted slightly. He had just made a sound that sounded like a faint cough.

Your chest tightens again as you swallow. “Do you want to say it? Clark?”

His face shifts as he looks at you with slight confusion. You bite your inner cheek before trying again.

“Cl,” you start with, showing him the way your mouth looks with the starting blend.

He watches you again as his jaw clenches. And then, he tries.

He only lets the sound of a ‘C’ slip before he pauses, frustrated. His hand grips the blanket a little tighter.

Your heart almost stops at his sound as you face lights up. “Yes, you’re right. Try again.” You repeat the blend of the first two letters.

He swallows before trying again. And he actually gets it.

You can’t contain your excitement as you sit up straighter. “Yes, Clark, you got it!”

At first, your praise and heightened tone startle him. His brow furrows slightly as he’s unsure of how you’re feeling. His entire body is still as he takes in your warm smile that was now growing familiar to him. The feeling of his shoulders relaxing and the warmness he feels inside from your words cause a flush of color to rise up the lines of his neck. His throat tightens and causes him to ache as he finally lets himself relish in softness of your words.

You continue to help him with the rest of the sounds. He struggles with the ‘ar’ but eventually gets it past his lips.

He was frustrated and uncomfortable, but he would do anything to see your smile again, so he kept going. Eventually, he manages to get all of the sounds out. They are choppy and not yet formed into a whole word, but he is close.

A chill runs down your spine. His voice is deep and raspy as it had never been used before.

Your hand gently brushes his arm as you give him an encouraging smile. “You’re doing so well, Clark.”

A small huff of air escapes his nose. He felt relief, and a flicker of pride that he was able to please you. He said it again, more certain.

“Clark.”

His name entered your ears as you couldn’t find yourself saying much. You nod, giving him another small smile. Your heart felt like it could explode at the sound of his voice.

“That’s you.”

For a long moment he just stared at you. He practiced the word in his brain some more as his heart thudded against his ribs. He didn’t say anything else, but the way he looked at you was absolutely everything you never knew you needed.

***Part five is here :)

notes: Yay a nice lil calm chapter to make up for the heartbreak of the last one!! Thank you for readingggg💋💋

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aliendickrocks · 9 days ago

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e.t. pt 3 // (not) Clark Kent

**Please read part 1 & part 2 if you have not already:)

content warnings: (please refer to warnings in part 1 as it lists the general themes throughout this story) mention of trauma responses, flinching, research done by reading a book about the link between infants receiving affection and their development, brief mention of child loss

word count: 2.5k+

pairing: female!scientist!reader x Kal-El the last son of Krypton

*If you have been reading this story please read this: This part is really long and a lot of it is background information rather than interactions with Kal. A lot of it is important for the rest of the story and I love details, so please bear with me for this part of the story. At this point, I feel like it is turning into a whole fanfic which I’m not mad about but I understand it can get boring/not someone’s preferred reading material. I promise more interactions/intimate moments/justice for Kal is coming!

Your hand reaches over slightly to take the card from him. Your lips curve in a small smile, watching his face as she seems to be pleased you accepted his offering. “Thank you,” you tell him softly. It was difficult to shake the shocking feeling that you had about his intelligence.

You are now pulling out the notebook and pen from your bag that you brought. You set the book on the ground, flipping to the first page as the pen click reaches his ears. He flinches as his eyes narrow with a flash of fear as if you were holding a weapon. His back presses to the wall after he backs up.

And that’s when you realized it looked like a scalpel.

Your chest tightens as you shake your head and lower it to the ground. “It’s okay, it’s not that. I won’t hurt you.”

For a long moment, he still stares as if he is nervous. A wave of curiosity mixed with suspicion begins to wash over his face before he gently leans forward.

Your hand reaches to pick up the pen again at a cautious rate. You pause again, giving him time to watch as you hold it for him to see. When he doesn’t recoil you click the pen.

“Look,” you whisper. You lower the pen to the blank page as you drag it along leaving a streak of black ink. His head tilts as he watches the line appear on the paper. “It’s just lines. Nothing scary.”

You think for a moment as you begin to draw something new. A simple circle before adding little lines around it to look like rays. “The sun” you tell him, pointing to it. You’re not completely sure if this is even helping, but you continue.

Your brain racks itself for more ideas as your mind wanders back to his file. The stone like object that was found in the capsule he arrive in. It had a symbol. Your hand begins to sketch the diamond shape you remember seeing before adding the curving ‘S’ like shape in the middle. And it looked horrible.

You glance up to see if he had any reaction, but he just seems to be watching intently. In a way, it almost seemed like his curiosity could pass as him judging the drawing too.

“I’m a scientist, not an artist, okay?” You tell him, laughing softly at yourself.

The sound of your amusement seems to captivate him more than a picture ever could. His face lights up as delight flickers in his eyes.

Your stomach flutters but you decide to return to the paper. You clear your throat before bringing the pen back to the paper. You write in neat, clear letters. Your name, the day of the week, his name, the word “sun” to label the picture you had drawn.

He watches every stroke intently. After you are finished you slide the pen across the floor toward him.

He hesitates, looking at the pen like it might bite him. Then, cautiously, his long fingers close around it. His first attempt moves across the page in an awkward scrawl.

You watch carefully as his brow furrows slightly as if he was focusing. He slowly begins to copy your letters. They weren’t perfect, but shockingly close. And then he does it again almost exactly the way you write.

You stare as your lips part slightly. He glances up to you briefly after each attempt. In a way, you almost wonder if he was seeking approval, which made your chest ache.

How could he be like this? After years in confinement, with no warmth, no comfort, no one holding him as a infant. He should be broken or distant. At least that’s what psychology proves. But instead he’s bright, eager, and trusts you too quickly.

The thoughts don’t leave your mind even after you leave for the night.

The next day, you are at your desk with a book propped in front of you. Patterns of Attachment. Even an intro psychology class touches on the topic that young things need emotional support in early life to be able to function in most cases.

Your eyes narrow as you underline a sentence on the page with a pen before you go back to clicking it out of habit.

Across from you sits a research assistant named Jimmy. In the week you’ve been here, Jimmy has probably spoken a total of five words to you. Oddly enough, you consider him the closest thing to a friend you have here. He doesn’t hover or stare. Really, it’s like he doesn’t even care if you’re here or not. He doesn’t comment on your pen clicking habit even when most find it the most annoying sound in the world. And on your second day, he brought you back a donut from the break room after he had gone to get one. By lab standards, he is basically family now.

Your eyes flick up at him from the book as a random thought slips from your lips. “Were you held as a baby?”

His head moves up as an eyebrow instantly raises. He stares for a moment, making sure the question you asked was to him.

“What?” He asks.

And in that moment, the man who already seemed like he made an effort to do as little talking as possible made a face like he regretted leaving the house altogether today.

“You know. Held. Cuddled. Taken care of.” You wave your hand. “Infants need it or they don’t function the same. It’s been proven many times. But Kal-El doesn’t have any of those signs. He’s trusting. He gets excited and he’s bright. It doesn’t make sense.”

Jimmy doesn’t interrupt. He never does. Finally, he speaks flatly. “He isn’t technically human. Maybe Kryptonians don’t have the same needs.”

“Then why is he terrified of a pen?” you quickly ask, your eyes scanning another page and at this point it seems like you are trying to talk yourself through this instead of Jimmy. “Why does he have trauma responses? If his brain is different, why would he still carry pain or fear the same way?”

Jimmy is silent yet again. He returns to his screen as his expression is unreadable.

You sigh, pressing your head against your hand. Great. You just convinced the only guy here that doesn’t give you the creeps that you’re insane.

You go back to your book. On the other hand, Jimmy seems to be distracted with his work. His teeth grind together as if he was arguing with himself. Eve will kill you if you don’t finish this report on time and have to stay late. Just do your job. Don’t get involved. he tells himself in his head.

But before he can argue anymore he finds himself opening a new tab. He glances over his shoulder. You are now buried back into the book and the rest of the office seems to be doing their own thing.

He turns back to his monitor as he searches the original crash site from almost thirty years ago. Usually, the pictures were leaked by bot accounts and were taken down almost immediately. He searches intently for a few moments before finding a photo posted under a sub Reddit four minutes ago. He clicks on it, squinting. This picture was taken from a person in town, so it was a different angle than the ones the government took.

And in the corner? An barely visible water tower with the words Welcome to Smallville.

An exact location of the crash site was never shared. It wasn’t even included in Kal-El’s file.

Jimmy clicks open a new tab as he searches Google Earth. He scrolls through the city of Smallville, Kansas before he finds the field that looked similar to the angle of that photo. He clicks on it before receiving an address.

He scribbles it down on a notepad, ripping it off before leaning forward and placing it on your desk.

You look up from the book, turning your head in confusion as you look down at the note with his small writing on it.

“Maybe it will be helpful to talk to someone that was actually there,” he mutters.

Your chest tightens as your eyes light up. You turn to him, now clutching the small note like it is gold. “I love you, Jimmy.”

He is already turned back to his monitor so you miss the small smile that has curved his lips. “Don’t make it weird.”

You finish your first week of interactions with Kal-El as the weekend comes. More than you care to admit, you feel a pang of sadness at the thought of not seeing him for two days. You glance over your shoulder one last time as you leave his cell on Friday afternoon, watching as his wide eyes stay on you intently.

But you had to redirect your focus on your plans for the weekend. Going out of your way to dig into information the government is hiding is never a good idea, but somehow you found yourself doing it anyway.

Your finger hovered over the ‘confirm’ button on the checkout screen for a flight to Kansas. Finally, you did it as you suck in a breath. Saturday. Departure at 8:03 am.

By early Saturday afternoon, you find yourself driving a rental car as the warm countryside air blows against your skin. You have the window down, your fingers tapping against the door as you try to calm your nerves.

You follow the address that was scrawled on Jimmy’s scrap paper before pulling up outside of a small ranch. You look at it, taking in the humble house as you swallow.

To say your legs felt like jello would be the understatement of the century. This is crazy. Your pulse hammered in your ears as you forced yourself up the porch and knock at the door.

It doesn’t take long before the door creaks open. An older woman stands there, her hair brushed neatly back. Flour was dusted on her apron as if you’ve caught her mid-baking. She narrows her eyes at the badge in your hand.

“Hi,” you say carefully, lifting it just enough for her to see. “I’m currently doing a study, and I was hoping I could talk to you for just a few minutes-“

Her face darkens immediately as a scowl cuts across her features. She cuts you off immediately. “Haven’t you people done enough?”

And with that the door is slammed in your face.

You really start to wonder if you are crazy as you hesitantly step off the wood steps and into the grass. You circle the small home as you approach the back screen door. The woman is now inside the kitchen as she scrubs dishes with more force than necessary.

“Please” you call softly. “I won’t take much of your time.”

She startles and whips her head toward you. Her eyes widen as if you’re an intruder. “I will call the police,” she warns.

You shake your head, now pleading even more. “Just five minutes. Please.”

For a long moment, she studies you through the screen. With a sharp sigh she finally steps forward and opens the door. “You have to be gone before my husband gets home.”

Inside feels warm and cozy. It smells faintly of oranges and the way it is simply decorated feels warm and nostalgic. She sits down at the oak table in the kitchen as she glares up at you. You are unsure if you should sit, but decide to anyway.

You ask her about that night. Asking for any details she might recall about what she saw or heard.

Her eyes narrow. She had signed many agreements those years ago to not say a word about anything. Why is the government trying to pry information out of me they already have? Maybe this is a test she thinks to herself.

“I didn’t see anything or hear anything that night. The only reason I know about it is because the locals chatter a lot.”

You ask a few more questions, but she doesn’t budge. You nod slightly as you feel this has practically been a dead end.

Your eyes then glance over her shoulder as they fall on a framed photo on the counter next to a jar. It pictures the woman in younger years as she holds a baby, maybe a little less than a year old.

“You have a son?” You ask, your eyes moving back to her.

Her breath catches. Pain flickers across her features as she tries to shake it away and realizes you saw the picture.

Her eyes finally meet yours as she gives a small, sad smile and nods while standing up. She picks up the frame, gazing down at it. “Our Clark. We lost him a few months after this picture was taken.”

Your throat tightens. You realize in that instant that the government had lied. They never found the baby inside the capsule that night. He had been here. With two people who loved him.

The woman is still holding the picture. She begins to recall all that had happened. The way he was snatched up like some kind of animal, the interrogations, the threats. And then the way her whole house was wiped clean of any trace of him. They accidentally missed one picture that had fallen under the couch. Her husband always warned her to keep it put away, but she thought after all this time it would be okay to display.

The weight of everything crashes down as you swallow. “I’m so sorry,” you say, your voice quiet.

A moment later, she tells you her husband should be home soon and you should be going. You rise to your feet and walk to the door, only pausing because you hear her voice again.

“How is he?”

Your hand is now paused on the handle of the door as you look at her. You give her a small smile as your eyes seem to fill with empathy for her.

“He’s good.”

She doesn’t say anything else as you make your way back to the car. You let out a huge breath, gripping the steering wheel. Everything about this situation wasn’t right. The alien that they kept referring to him as wasn’t a monster they painted him to be. He could feel pain, be scared, and love just as well as any human could.

You jump and are pulled from your thoughts as you hear a knock on the window. Your shoulders relax as you roll it down, finding the woman standing outside the car door.

She holds out the picture along with a small blue blanket to you, her eyes filled with something you can’t quite put into words. “In case you need it for your study,” she simply says, her voice a little strained.

Your eyes glance down to the items once more as you give her a warm smile and nod. You take them gently. “Thank you.”

*Here is part 4 :)

notes: OKKKAYYYY WITH the little plot twist! I also hope you liked the characters added to this one ;) Jimmy is literally slay diva bestie because those stalking skills tho!!!Anyway thank you for reading if you made it this far!! Muah love you

taglist: @dmgsuki @foxin5billion @ul4lume @pretty-royals @stardrama @willow-is-a-nerd @anti-heroesanonymous @soupiemeowmeow @ghostreadersthings

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aliendickrocks · 11 days ago

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e.t. pt 2 // (not) Clark Kent

**if interested in reading please read part 1 first!! This probably won’t make sense if you don’t

content warnings: themes of imprisonment/captivity (for him), experimentation (nonconsensual, words like probing/ injecting mentioned), dehumanization (he is often referred to as alien/it), emotional neglect against him by others, he cannot speak any language, mention of reader’s family/phone call with mother, pain inflicted on him through Kryptonite, mention of men talking behind readers back and calling her hot, angst (while he is exposed to kryptonite). **No smut

word count: 3k

pairing: female!scientist!reader x Kal-El the last son of Krypton

Later that night, you let out a soft breath you feel like you had been holding since the moment you stepped into his cell. You were now back in the new apartment you were being housed in during this research study.

You couldn’t exactly describe the things you felt after today. Over the years, you envisioned aliens to be these large creatures with characteristics you could only find on the set of a sci-fi movie. But he wasn’t anything like you had ever imagined. Blue eyes, dark hair, and warm skin. On the surface, he seems to share so many characteristics of humans.

You walk into your apartment as your eyes glance over the bare room. It was fairly cold and empty, furnished only with a single couch, table, and a standing lamp.

You shake your head and make your way to the bathroom to shower.

The apartment feels colder after you are changed into your pajamas. The quietness of your new space only made your mind drift to him once more. You grab your phone, needing to engage in something familiar as you sit on your bed.

After a few rings, your mom picks up.

“Hey honey,” she greets, warm and unaware of the world you now lived in. “I’m so happy you called. I was just about to text you.”

You smile faintly, biting the inside of your lip as a fraction of you wishes you could spill everything on your mind.

“Hey mom. I miss you so much. Training is over and I actually got to start working today.”

“Aw, you know I miss you even more.” You can almost hear her smile on the other line. “But tell me, how is it? Busy already?” she asks.

Busy. Right. You almost laugh. Seventeen nondisclosure agreements signed in my name and a life sentence of confinement if I ever spill a word. Even if you wanted to tell her the truth, you couldn’t.

“Yeah,” you say instead, your voice not holding any expression. “There’s a lot of paperwork and a ton of new systems to learn. They’ve got me helping catalog samples right now, so nothing too crazy.”

She hums on the other line, simply buying your lie just because she didn’t have a reason not to. “Well we are so proud of you, honey. I know it was a big decision to move out there. Don’t forget to take time for yourself and remember we love you.”

You smile softly, but you mind can’t help but drift back to Kal-El. “Thanks. I love you mom.”

The next morning comes rather quickly as you get ready for your day. You make it back to the facility a little before 6 am and go through the security clearances.

Your badge scans and allows you through the final doors as you are back in the admin wing. There are only a few people here this early, checking their computers as a hushed chatter fills the large space.

You walk over to your desk before placing the bag you had brought from home down. You had brought some basic things that you thought you might introduce to Kal-El if he seemed interested. A water bottle, notebook, pen, a family photo of yours, and a deck of basic cards. Even though you doubted they would be any help and the fact they caused your security check to last an extra twenty minutes, you thought it might be worth it to show him something other than scientific objects.

You log into your computer as you go to clock in and check the system for any updates. You decide to open his file yet again, biting your pen between your teeth as you skim through the papers you had already read through well over a hundred times. Maybe there was something you missed.

Your reading pauses as you hear arguably the worst whisperers in the world behind you. Your eyes glance up from the file as your chewing on your pen freezes.

“The new scientist is a chick?” a male voice that is filled with amusement asks, turning to the man at the desk next to him.

“And hot,” the other adds. You let out a breath. You could never escape assholes, even in a highly secured facility that valued science and professionalism.

After finishing your reading you stop outside of Dr. Holt’s office. He had just gotten in, barely having time to hang his jacket as your voice rings behind him.

“Good morning, doctor. Are you ready to escort me to the cell?”

His eyes close as he lets out a sigh. Always the new ones that are way too eager. He turns and grabs his cup of coffee before exiting his office.

“Good morning, doctor,” he greets you back, his voice a little strained from exhaustion. “You are aware your shift doesn’t begin for another hour?”

You follow behind him as you adjust the bag on your shoulder. You nod, although he is in front of you and doesn’t see it.

“I am. I just thought it might be beneficial to spend as much time as I can with Kal-El in the beginning. Maybe it will encourage him to naturally open up.”

He seems a little skeptical as you refer to him by the name given to him on his planet, but doesn’t say anything.

It is now silent as the two of you make your way down the stretched hallway to the cell. What you didn’t know, or anyone else, was that Kal-El had already felt you long before you even entered the building. He used your heartbeat.

He had memorized it the day prior during your brief introduction. The pattern was etched into his brain now. It was faint when you were far away, but it pounded loudly now against his ears as you walked closer.

Dr. Holt is talking now, rattling off something about the monitoring schedule as you both near the cell. But his words are silenced quickly as you both see it.

Kal-El is now pressed against the glass.

The window was supposed to be one-sided, opaque from his side, but the way his gaze locked onto you told you a different story. He didn’t blink. He just staring directly at you as if there were no barrier.

“What the hell?” Dr. Holt blurts, snapping his head toward the guard on duty. “It is trying to escape!”

The guard jumps slightly before reacting. His hands fly to a locked box. He yanks open the lid and then slams a lever down.

Green light floods the room.

Kal-El’s body seizes as he stumbles back from the door and collapses on the ground. His muscles twist against themselves as he is brought to the ground by the invisible force coursing through him.

Your eyes widen as they land on the guard. “Stop it!” You demand, your voice cracking. “Turn it off! Now!”

The guard hesitates but you’re already halfway toward the desk with your hands balled into fists. Dr. Holt shouts an order and finally the lever is pulled back. The green glow dies out, leaving Kal-El curled in the corner shuddering in pain.

Your chest heaves as your eyes narrow. “What was that? He wasn’t doing anything!” you snap. “How am I supposed to learn anything from him if he’s tortured before I can even see him?”

You are already to the door of the cell as you begin to press your badge to the reader.

Dr. Holt swallows before his expression narrows in on you. “It will do you well to remember your role here, doctor.” His voice is steady. “He is not a subject that needs to be coddled. He is dangerous, with intentions and abilities we don’t fully understand. If you rush in now, he might retaliate. That’s why there are people like me here to keep him contained while people like you take notes. You are supposed to be a professional, not some bleeding heart making rash decisions based on feelings.”

You had paused your movement as you listened to his words. Your eyes gazed at Kal-El the entire time through the window as he was still tucked into the corner. You swallow down the retort burning on your lips.

Instead, you ignore his suggestion and press your badge to the reader. You press your fingertip to the screen as the lock clicks.

The sterile air greets you as soon as you step into the cell.

Kal-El is still on the floor, his face hidden as his body doesn’t move. His senses are fried from the unfiltered exposure to the Kryptonite. After a moment, your heartbeat catches his ear again. He stiffens before slowly lifting his head up. His blue eyes are hazy but you watch as they search for you. Recognition flickers and his chest heaves slightly as he uncurls himself.

You stop about six feet away, trying to give him space. You are unsure how to proceed. You wondered if he would even process comfort or react to it in anyway. Dr. Holt’s comments had began to get to you, bashing you for acting on feelings and not reality. But you quickly pushed them away.

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. You slowly set the bag you were holding down on the floor as blue eyes bore into you. You take a step closer before taking another. You decide to crouch down in front of him as you didn’t want to tower over him when he was on the ground. Your eyes scan his features for any signs he was permanently injured. “Are you okay?”

Honestly, in his mind, all pain or memories from the pain had washed away as you spoke to him. His heart thuds in his chest, staring at you with curious eyes.

You feel your chest tighten as you watch him tilt his head less than an inch after you ask him a question. Your eyes are wide as you find yourself fascinated by how human that looked. You aren’t sure if it was just a coincidence or not, but something about it tugged at your heart.

After a moment you slowly stand up as you walk back over to your bag. You are surprised to find him rise to his feet as he follows you.

You give him a small smile, before reaching into your bag to try at least something. You take out the plastic water bottle as he stands right next to you, now towering over you as he was on his feet.

You hold it out to him as he gazes down at it. He doesn’t take it, just glances back to your face.

Even after all of your education, it seemed like you had no idea what you were doing at all. Your mind fell blank as you wondered how to even go about this situation.

You decide to just speak to him, even if he wouldn’t understand. “Water,” you say softly, holding up the bottle slightly. He turns his head slightly to look down at the bottle once more, confirming that it was a head tilt earlier. How human. And cute.

You shook the thought away as you decide to try something else. “We drink water.”

You unscrew the cap before bringing it to your lips and taking a sip. His eyes are on your face again as he can hear you swallow. He makes no move to touch you, but he seems to be waiting for something.

You decide to hold it out to him again. He looks down at it, still not making a move.

You are about to speak again before he reaches over slowly and takes it. His fingers’ grip against the plastic is a little too strong, causing the plastic to collapse in his grasp. Water is squeezed out of the top, flowing over his hand and the floor as he startles slightly and drops it.

He half expects the pain to return as he was usually exposed to Kryptonite after making a sudden movement. But you just smile softly, bending down to pick it up off the floor.

“It’s okay” you tell him. The bottle is still about a fourth of the way full as you hold it out to him again. The plastic is now crinkled from his grip, but he hesitantly takes it again.

And then he tips it over, dumping the rest of the water on the floor into the existing puddle. You stifle a laugh. His eyes are still on the now empty bottle before they return to your face.

You give him another smile as he glances back down to your bag. You decide to take the empty bottle from his hand as you reach yours into the bag to pull something else out.

You decide on your family picture. It is from a party last year that features your parents, brother, and you.

“This is called a picture. This is my family,” you say as you point to it.

You offer the picture out to him the same way you did the water bottle. He gazes down at it, not taking it.

He takes longer this time, his hand hovering before gently taking it. The rough pads of his fingers graze the edge as if he’s testing the texture and his eyes flicker across the strange colors and shapes printed on its surface.

Then his gaze freezes.

His eyes land on you in the picture frozen with a captured smile. He doesn’t look away. Slowly, almost like he’s making sure he isn’t mistaken, his gaze lifts back to your face. Then it drifts down again to the paper version of you.

The photo bends slightly beneath his grip. A faint tear results as the delicate corner gives away beneath his strength. His eyes widen instantly as his fingers trace over the tear, trying to make it whole again.

In the next moment, something shifts in him.

With a sharp pull, you watch as he rips the photograph straight down the middle. The smiling shapes of your other family members flutter to the ground as only your figure remains in his fingers. He stares at it for a moment longer before he turns, retreating to the far corner of his cell.

You watch in awe as he lowers himself. With a strange gentleness he places the piece of you against the wall. He carefully slides it in the corner as if tucking it away for safe keeping. His shoulders ease once it is secured.

In an instant he is back next to you. You have now almost forgotten how to breathe after watching that encounter. He had just collected your picture and stored it away in a secret place for only himself to find.

But the way his blue eyes flicker from you to the bag pulls you from your shock.

You decide to lower yourself to the ground for this, your back pressed against the wall. You look up at him as he watches you intently.

“Sit?” You ask. It is only a moment before he decides to lower himself and join you. His leg presses against yours, and even though dress pants and a lab coat, you can still feel the heat of his body. Your breath catches in your throat but he doesn’t seem to be bothered by the contact, instead just looking at your bag once more.

You reach into it and now pull out a stack of playing cards. Before you can even tell him their name, his eyes light up as he plucks them from your hand.

He flips through the cards one by one, his eyes scanning each one with intensity. He is met with unfamiliar shapes and colors as his brow furrows deeper with every card he turns.

It takes you a second to realize what he’s looking for.

Your face.

Just like with the photograph, he’s searching for the version of you that must exist in these rectangles. But the longer he flips, the more his expression sharpens with quiet impatience.

Finally, he reaches the end of the stack. There are no traces of you.

His expression changes. It wasn’t cold or angry. It just looked like disappointment. His lips press into a thin line and he stares down at the meaningless symbols as if they’ve betrayed him.

You bite the inside of your lip as you try not to smile.

“They are not pictures,” you speak softly, looking down at them in his hand. “You play with them. It’s called a game.”

You carefully reach over to take them back as you show them to him. You knew you wouldn’t be able to teach him to play today, but you wanted to introduce them anyway. He stares down at them curiously before taking them back as you offer them.

Then, he does something that shocks you even more than his other actions did.

He begins to sort through them, placing all the reds in one pile and the blacks in the other. He pauses after a moment as he realizes the shapes on the cards were different. His brow furrows as he pulls the red spade card from the pile, and then sets it down to make a new pile. He continues to sort through the whole stack as your lips are parted in amazement.

When he is done, he stares down at the piles. He then uses his finger to gently straighten out one of the piles that was crooked.

Your mind is at a loss for words as you glance up at his face.

“Kal-El,” you say softly. That was the first time you had ever spoken his name to him. It was the first time anyone had even spoken his name to him, so he didn’t react other than finding interest in hearing your voice again. “That’s… incredible. You did that all on your own.”

His eyes had flickered up to your face at the sound of your voice. Of course he didn’t understand that you were praising him yet, but he does seem rather pleased to hear your voice.

His eyes drop down to the piles again as he scans them. Suddenly, he picks up the king as he notices the differences between it and the queen card. Carefully, he seems to compare the features of both as he associates the king card with masculine traits.

Something flickered in his expression before his gaze traveled back to you, holding out the card.

Your breath catches in your throat as you realize he was offering it to you. It was like he was trying to give a picture of himself the same way you had given him one of you.

Part 3 here :)

notes: GUYYSSSS. If you made it this far hi!!! Thank you for reading.

I really don’t know where I am going with this honestly. I mentioned in the last part that I wasn’t sure if i wanted to turn it into smut. I would still love opinions but just know I LOVEEE a good slow burn. So we will be taking this slow. If they do eventually get intimate there will be warnings at the top in case you’re not into that. But who knows maybe this will turn into multiple parts. Also! I realize I never mentioned what he is wearing in this. What do you think?

I seriously cannot express how much I love this story. I feel very very guilty thinking of anyone being treated like this (esp Clark) but I have been imagining this storyline for over 10 years. I was a twilight kid and when the movies were coming out i remember having maladaptive daydreams of this situation with Edward for years HAHAH.

Anyway sorry this was so long muahhh love you🤍

taglist: @dmgsuki @foxin5billion @ul4lume

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aliendickrocks · 12 days ago

Text

e.t. // (not) Clark Kent

content warning: themes of imprisonment/captivity (for him), experimentation (nonconsensual, words like probing/injecting/sedation through kryptonite mentioned), dehumanization (he is often referred to as alien), emotional neglect against him by others, mild physical contact without consent (no intention to harm you he was just curious), he cannot speak any language, **no mention of anything sexual until the ending note. **not smut

word count: 2k

pairing: female!scientist!reader x Kal-El the last son of Krypton

He had fallen from the sky nearly twenty-nine years ago, a blur of fire and steel tearing across the Kansas night until it left a crater in the middle of a farmer’s field. The government had arrived before the news cameras or locals had a chance to take more than a handful of grainy photographs. What they found was a craft unlike anything anyone had ever seen. And inside it? An infant.

The reports described the capsule as self-sustaining and it hummed with a strange kind of energy that no Earth technology could match. Carved into its panel systems was a message, damaged and grainy. It was an echo of a voice in a language no human spoke. It was eventually decoded years later, barely traceable but clear enough to identify one thing: they referred to the baby as Kal-El.

You had heard fragments of this story several times throughout your life, but of course it was all chalked up to be a hoax. Deep down, you didn’t want it to be.

And somewhere deep down inside that same part of you was an unrealistic dream to find out the truth.

People even laughed at you when you told them you wanted to study alien life in college. So your description of your goals quickly turned into a blanket description of what you were really chasing after.

First came your undergrad degree in biology. You smiled as your family took pictures at your graduation, saying how proud they were of you that you were finally ready to enter the real world. That was pretty far from the truth.

You jumped right back into school the next semester to earn your masters in linguistic anthropology. When you called it that, people usually just smiled weirdly at you and nodded, so you usually just said you read a lot about the way people communicate.

You were psyched out of your mind when you landed a rare PhD student position through a corporation called Star Labs. It was boring work to say the least, just five long years of entering information into analogs about various samples from Mars and Venus.

But you never pulled yourself away from the niche obsession you had about life outside of earth. After your long days at the lab, you couldn’t help yourself by indulging in the most ridiculous research, if you could even call it that. You scanned places like Reddit and Facebook for the crazy conspiracies people rambled on about. You half-smiled at people’s theories about Area 51, or the way the had spotted extraterrestrial objects in the sky. You were very educated and had a solid sense of reality, but even after all these years, you couldn’t shake the thrill that these theories brought you.

You eventually completed your dissertation. It was on challenges of communicating with nonhuman intelligence. The committee that examined your thesis were definitely thrown for a loop over it, but by the grace of all things good you passed.

Your family had given up on the idea of you finding a career a while ago. Because who did they know who made a career out of studying aliens? She’s too busy looking up at the sky for UFO’s your brother would tease.

Even you were surprised the day you received the letter in the mail. One of the faculty members who had examined your final dissertation had passed your information along to someone who eventually passed it on to someone else in the government.

At first, you thought it was a joke. Some prank that someone you knew was playing on you. The envelope was sealed and marked with a government insignia. You thought it was a really cruel joke all the way until the point you were sitting in the briefing. Then came the nondisclosure agreements, and you felt your hand was going to fall off from all the papers you had signed. The last paper you received was the contract. It contained all of the information about your assignment, where you would be located to, and what you would be doing. You could barely finish the fine print before you were signing it.

And before you could even consider it a joke anymore, you were being transported from your new living quarters to the one and only Area 51 base. The security check was lengthy, and you were exhausted from just that even though your day hadn’t even started yet.

You were greeted by a man by the name of Dr. Holt. He was the one assigned to show you to your work space and brief you. After giving you a tour of the office area of the facility, he hands you a file.

You’d expected the file to paint him as some kind of monster, something terrifying. And in a way, it did. The earliest reports told of strength beyond human limits. Notes of failed attempts to pierce his skin with scalpels and light that burned from his eyes when he grew agitated with the way someone was touching him. He was contained before he could speak a single word, never learning what it meant to be anything other than something to be watched.

His world became a cell. Bright white walls infused with something called kryptonite. It was carefully measured to be just enough to dull him and keep him tethered, but not enough to kill him. His interactions were limited to guards and scientists in lab coats who never spoke to him. They measured him. Prodded. Observed. But they never looked at him.

Until now.

The program had shifted. You weren’t told exactly why, only that the department you were working under wanted more than physical data. They wanted to understand him. His culture, his language, the scraps of history buried inside his head. And so they brought in people like you, researchers who specialized in anything alien.

You studied the file for days. You read over it at least a hundred times. “Subject 001: Kal-El. Extraterrestrial. Male. Origin: Krypton”. Added to the files were years worth of notes, interactions, tests. Some of them seemingly unethical. There were even pictures of the original crash site along with a small stone like item with what looked like an ‘S’ carved into it.

It had now been a week since you arrived and the department deemed you ready for engagement. You followed Dr. Holt through the many chambers and vaults it took to get to where they kept him.

Dr. Holt speaks casually as you follow him.

“Over here is where we keep our protective equipment. You may put it on now if you would like to,” he tells you, gesturing to what looked like a row of hazmat suits on the wall.

“His file mentioned he tested negative for any human disease,” you say, just thinking out loud. He puts his hands up in a way that seems like he’s telling you he’s just doing his job.

“Very well. You’re not required to wear it,” he says simply. He stops in front of a case that has a code on it. He quickly types it in as the small door opens. He takes out a vile with a sharp needle covered by a plastic cap and holds it out to you. It was filled with a bright green liquid.

“You will be needing this. Keep it in your pocket at all times. These days, he is pretty weak from the Kryptonite, but you might need to inject him with it if you are attacked.”

You slowly reach out and take it, looking down at it before putting it into the pocket of your lab coat.

“Ready?” He asks.

Your eyes snap up to him in surprise. “That’s it?” You ask.

The man just chuckles as he shakes his head. “What, did you think you were coming here to receive training like in the movies? The alien doesn’t speak. He will never speak. The government just seems to like pouring money into useless research. Just go in there and let him get used to you.”

You are a little taken back by his words as your brow furrows slightly. But before you can even reply, he has started the process to open the door with a code, key scan, and fingerprint. The vault opens with a loud beep as you are ushered inside, the door pulled closed behind you.

You blink as bright white light floods your vision. As they adjusted you noticed the walls were in fact laced with a faint, green shimmer.

But none of that mattered once you saw him.

He sat against the wall as his legs seem to bend like he had learned to fold himself smaller inside these walls. His dark hair hung in loose waves over his forehead, and when he lifted his head at the sound of the door, the startling blue of his eyes almost made you forget to breathe.

For a moment, he just stared. Wide-eyed. Unblinking. You’d read about his fascination with people, but reading wasn’t the same as being the subject of it. He looked at you like you weren’t just another uniform, another scientist passing through. His expression softened, and for the first time you wondered if anyone had ever smiled at him in here.

So you decided to, because why not? It would probably be easier to gain some information through the use of human mannerisms. Maybe he would eventually be able to mimic them.

Your lips curved into a small, warm smile. You were nervous, but it was still genuine.

And something in him shifted. He watched in fascination as you decided to do what you would with any other person.

“Hello, I’m-“ but you can’t even get out your name as he has now crossed the small room to make a straight shot to you. His hand grips your face, somewhat roughly as his fingers push against your lips. His wide eyes stare down at you as he feels a wave of disappointment as the words stop coming from your mouth.

You are startled, to say the least. And you were almost certain that there would be someone just waiting to tranquilize him for making such sudden movements, but you realize no one is probably even watching.

For Kal-El, no one had ever spoken to him. Sure, he had heard English from the scientists around him who muttered terms as they jotted findings in their notes. They spoke amongst each other, but he couldn’t understand what they were saying.

Now, he needed to know what you were saying as he naively touched your mouth, wondering how you did that.

Your now trembling hand finds his wrist as you try to pull his hand down. It isn’t until a small sound of discomfort leaves your throat that he drops it. He seems horrified, recognizing the sound as the one he has made many times before as he was prodded and injected with the green stuff he had grown to fear.

Your breathing is slightly heavier as you look up at him, recognizing his facial expression as one of guilt?

So he is smart. And emotionally intelligent, which is more than you can say for most humans you know.

You smile softly again, wanting to calm him.

“It’s okay,” you speak again. “You like to listen to someone speak?”

You know he couldn’t understand. Not yet, at least. You just watch as his face turns to that wide eyed fascination again, but he doesn’t touch you.

You feel absolutely out of your element. You had prepared for years for something like this, except you always understood something like this didn’t exist. Maybe that’s what made it seem appealing.

But now here you were, face to face with what was supposed to be an alien but looked exactly like a man.

Your eyes glanced over his chamber as you tried to find something to do, something to talk about. Is there nothing here they leave him to help keep him entertained?

Your eyes meet him again to see he is still looking down at you.

*You can read part 2 here!

notes: YOO when I tell you this is literally my baby. I do want to continue it because I love it so much, but I don’t know how I want it to go. I would love to turn it into some wild smut where their sex goes crazy (bc I’m a freak at heart) but I also like the idea of a nice lil slow burn of them learning each other. Please tell me what you think!!

Also, I worked really hard on this and I did do quite a bit of research. I had to look up a lot of things about the reader’s education and also some of the extraterrestrial stuff, so please don’t judge too harshly if something didn’t make sense. But tysm for reading ily muahhh

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aliendickrocks · 13 days ago

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my face when I thought I got my first dm on here of someone telling me how much they love me but it was really just Amanda sending me a link to her hot and wet profile for singles

#SHE RLLY GOT ME #Clark Kent #would Clark accidentally click on spam links?#idk maybe

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aliendickrocks · 13 days ago

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stuck // Clark Kent

summary: You live in the same building as Clark Kent: a shy, adorably cute guy who holds the door open for you even when you were still half a block away. The elevator you both take up to your floors is stalled and you are instantly scared. Clark seems to shift into his more protective side as he distracts you with reassurance and conversation.

content warning: (slightly?) angst, reader is scared of elevators and gets trapped, slight reference to panicking, a few parts where she gets scared/stressed, mention of “falling to their death” once, reference to Clark’s height, no mention of y/n, no smut, somewhat fluffy but not too bad, typical “trapped together” storyline lol

word count: 2.3k+

pairing: feminine reader X Clark Kent

The chill of the late afternoon nips at your cheeks as you make your way down the street. It had been a tiring day, no. Completely exhausting day in so many ways. You finally turned onto your street, your bag tugging at your shoulder as you adjust it.

Up ahead, the familiar glow from your apartment building’s lobby spilled out into the evening. You barely registered the tall man scanning into the building until he shifted his grip on a reusable grocery tote slung over one shoulder, catching you in his peripheral vision.

He did a double take so quick it almost looked like a flinch. Then his eyes lingered.

Even though you were still a little ways down the sidewalk, you saw the way he hesitated in the doorway. One of his feet was inside the building, one out as his lips parted like he might say something but losing the words before they formed. He took a step back out onto the sidewalk.

You didn’t think much of it until he stayed there, holding the door open for you, despite the awkward distance between you.

Your lips curved into a small, slightly surprised smile, but you picked up your pace, not wanting to keep him waiting.

“Thank you,” you tell him when you finally reach the steps, your voice soft and appreciative.

For a heartbeat, he looks as if he might have forgotten how to answer. “Uh,” he nods before the words catch up in his brain. “Yeah. Of course.”

Your figure brushes past him into the lobby as a wave of your light perfume washes over him. He steps in behind you as you both wait for the elevator to reach the ground floor. The familiar ding breaks him from his daze as the doors open and you step inside.

Would she feel uncomfortable if I followed her into the elevator? his brain asks himself as he hesitates following you into it. He thinks about just taking the stairs because in his mind, the last thing he wants to do is creep you out.

But before he can make the turn toward the stairs, your hand flies over the closing door as you glance at him with a curious look. You were holding the elevator door for him, and here he was standing her like a stammering idiot. He tries to quickly recover as he steps inside next to you, looking straight ahead.

He notices the way you delicately press the button labeled twenty-nine in the corner of his eye. One floor above his. He clears his throat as he hopes you don’t think he was watching to see what floor you lived on.

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts as his eyes widen slightly. “What floor do you need?” You ask gently. He feels like an idiot. It would help to actually press the button you need, Kent he scolds himself.

“Twenty-eight,” he uttered. “Thank you.” His voice was deep and smooth, and it felt like it could warm your soul even after the hardest of days. You press the button for him before leaning against the wall.

Your eyes move over to him as the elevator begins to ascend. This is where you really took him in. Cute you think. He held a grocery tote in one hand as his other was hanging next to his side. You bite the inside of your lip as you wonder if he had a woman in his life or maybe he was one of the men you have yet to meet that actually cares about the environment.

He would be absolutely humiliated to reveal his weekly grocery haul as he gripped his bag a little tighter. He didn’t mind cooking, but living alone and switching between a full-time journalist job and saving the world when he could left little time for meal prep. This week he had a box of minute rice, way too many cheap Hungry-Man frozen meals, and a carton of eggs. Just what every woman dreamed of dining on.

You glance back to him after a second to catch him looking at you as he immediately tears his eyes away and looks to the ground.

That’s when the elevator jolted.

The floor seemed to drop an inch beneath you before slamming to a halt with a metallic groan. The lights flickered once, twice, then settled into a dim emergency glow.

Your heart caught in your throat as you suck in a breath. Your hand instantly grips the cool hand rail tightly as you feel your pulse hammer inside you.

“Oh no,” you say, your voice quiet and expression troubled.

He straightened instantly, all traces of shyness gone, his eyes snapping to you. “Hey, it’s okay,” he said gently, voice steady in a way that anchored you even as your chest tightened. It was almost like you had forgotten that this well over six foot tall man was next to you over the past 30 seconds. You swallow, glancing over at him. You didn’t even know his name, but something about the way he spoke made you want to believe him.

You tried to take a full breath, but your fingers gripped the rail harder as you thought about the possibility of free falling at any second.

You swallowed hard, still clutching the rail. “Be honest… elevators don’t just drop, right?”

His lips twitched,like he was holding back a laugh, but there was no hint of teasing in his face. “Not the way you’re thinking,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s not like in the movies.”

You weren’t sure if you could accept that answer and calm yourself yet. “You’re sure?”

That seemed to be his cue. His posture eased just enough that the quiet, reserved man in the lobby suddenly took on this subtle, calm energy. “There are actually multiple steel cables holding the car up. Even if one snapped, there are others. And there’s a governor system that automatically locks the brakes if it moves too fast.”

If you weren’t in one of the situations you feared the most, you might’ve let out a small laugh at his knowledge.

“Governor system?” You ask. Your fingers seem to gradually loosen against the rail.

“Yeah, it’s basically a big safety clamp. Runs along the rails here” he trails off slight as he gestured vaguely at the walls, “and if the elevator tries to free-fall, the governor engages and stops it. And most cables are way stronger than they even need to be. The failure rate is, statistically, almost nonexistent.”

You feel yourself become amused for a split second as you listen to him intently. He seems to get lost in the explanation of things, but once he is done speaking, he seems a little more flustered than before. Like he spoke too much.

Your lips curve into a faint smile as you realize how much you appreciated him being the person stuck with you. “Thank you,” you tell him. “You know a lot about elevators.”

His eyes meet yours briefly as he can feel the tip of his ears heat up. You were beautiful and it took everything in him not to pry the door open effortlessly and lift you to safety just to ease any ounce of anxiety you had.

“I read quite a bit,” he tells you, his tone slightly sheepish.

A comfortable silence fills the elevator again and he glances to you frequently. He can tell that you are becoming a little more nervous again.

“You’re safe,” he adds quietly. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He wants to slap his hand over his face after saying that. What could that possibly mean if you are just a normal guy she thinks you are?

But for some reason, his words mean more to you than he knows. You can’t pinpoint what causes you to feel somehow safe with him.

You decide to tell him your name. He seems a little stunned before his eyes meet yours again.

He repeats it back, nodding. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Clark.” His voice was warm, steady, and there was something grounding about the way he said it.

“So,” you said, trying to keep your voice light even though your knuckles were still white on the rail, “do you have anything good to snack on while we wait?”

His face drains as he thinks about those unappealing frozen meals in his bag. His mind then lights up as he remembers he made the last minute decision to grab a candy bar from the checkout counter. His hand digs into his bag as he fishes it out, offering it to you.

You glance down at the KitKat in his hand as that earns him a small laugh from you. You shake your head.

“No, Clark. I was just kidding. I can’t take your candy,” you smile, your heart warming at the way he offered it without hesitation.

Clark blinks down at the candy in his hand as his brow furrows slightly under his glasses. “Please, I insist. I want you to have it.”

The way he said it so sincerely made your lips turn into another smile. “Okay. We’ll share then.”

The both of you ate the candy bar in silence, you smiling at him after he opened the wrapper and offered it out to you to break a piece off. He shifted on his feet, his large frame looking almost out of place in the cramped elevator.

“So…” he starts, his voice careful but warm as he wants to hear your voice again. “Are you just getting home from work?”

You nod, leaning back against the wall. “Yeah. Pretty boring honestly. Most of my days are, I just work in accounting. What about you?”

His brows lift slightly, as if impressed. “Accounting’s not boring. It takes a sharp mind to do that. I… uh, I write for a paper. The Daily Planet. Mostly articles that don’t make the front page,” he rubs the back of his neck, “but it keeps me busy.”

You nod after chewing the last bite of the candy bar. “That sounds really cool, actually. What do you usually write about?” you ask, tilting your head.

He exhales through his nose, almost laughing. “Oh, you know, city council meetings, neighborhood fundraisers, that sort of thing. Real edge-of-your-seat stuff.” His eyes sparkle just a little, letting you know he’s making fun of himself.

That earns a laugh from you, and he can’t help the way his chest tightens at the sound.

You are about to reply before the elevator gives a sudden lurch and then drops a couple of feet, the screech of its cables echoing up the shaft. You can’t help the startled sound that slips out of your throat as your hand shoots out for something steady, only to find yourself pressed against Clark’s chest.

His arms instinctively circle around you, steady and warm. For a moment, it feels like the whole world stutters to a stop along with the elevator. He can hear your breathing quicken, and his ears pick up the grumble of two maintenance men, complaining about “faulty switches” on the ground floor.

Once you realize the elevator is no longer letting you fall to your death, you begin to realize you are now clinging tightly to a man you had only met less than an hour ago who was nothing but kind. Heat rushes to your cheeks as you quickly ease back.

“Gosh, I’m sorry Clark. I didn’t even think,” you start, clearly embarrassed.

But Clark shakes his head softly, his voice low and reassuring. “Don’t be sorry. Anyone would’ve been shaken.” He doesn’t let go right away, his hands still resting lightly at your sides as if making sure you’re steady.

The elevator hums to life again with a roar, slowly crawling upward until the bell dings at the next floor.

The doors slide open, and it’s his stop. He gives you a small, regretful smile, adjusting the strap of his grocery tote. “Well, I guess this is me. Goodnight.”

You nod, returning his warm smile as you were still a little flustered. A part of you also feels reluctant to let him go. “Goodnight.”

The doors start to close, and disappointment in himself sinks heavy in his chest as he pauses in the hallway. He didn’t even ask your number. Didn’t even try. By the time the elevator has shut, he’s already made up his mind.

He bolts for the stairwell, feet moving in a blur of super speed. In the blink of an eye he’s up the next floor, slowing just enough to pull in a breath, forcing it to sound ragged and human. He leans casually against the wall, heart pounding for reasons that have nothing to do with the stairs.

When the doors slide open again, your gaze moves up as you step out, pausing slightly in surprise to see him there waiting. Confusion crosses your face until it blooms into a small smile. And then a small laugh. “What are you doing, Clark?”

His ears burn red and he pushes his glasses up nervously. He was trying for casual but failing in the most endearing way.

“Uh, I just wanted to make sure you got home okay,” he tells you, scratching the back of his neck.

“From one extra floor?” Your smile is lingering and almost teasing.

He laughs nervously. “Well, you never know.” He hesitates, but forced himself to get out the next words anyway. “I know this is probably forward. And you might have a million reasons to tell me no, but could I maybe get your number? Just in case the elevator acts up again.”

Your eyes sparkle with amusement, but something inside you softens at the way he is. You nod, pulling your phone out. “Alright, Clark. Just in case.”

When he takes your phone, his grin is boyish and genuine. It was like you just handed him the whole world instead of just your number.

notes: AHHH I LOVE TUMBLR. I haven’t been on it in over 10 years and I forgot how absolutely fun this is. I love reading and writing fanfic. Yesterday, I wrote a fun little imagine, posted it, went and got ice cream, and came home in time to buy Superman off of prime and watch it in my bed for the first time :,) and thennn my post hit over 100 notes. I was so happy. I know this was a lil basic but my other ones are a little more spicy if you want to check them out

If you made it this far and are still reading, thank you so much. I love tumblr and the community and interacting with everyone. Muahhhh love you!!

#clark kent x reader #clark kent x female reader #clark kent x you #clark kent #dc #clark kent imagine #dc universe #dc rp #superman #superman x reader #superman fanfic #superman 2025 #clark x reader #david corenswet

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aliendickrocks · 14 days ago

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heat wave // Clark Kent

summary: You get eaten out by your boyfriend, Clark. That’s it. And the head he gives is out of this world ;)

content warnings: sexual content (reader gets eaten out), lil nasty, subtle domination

The heat wave had expanded over Metropolis for several days now as the sweltering heat sat heavy in the air.

The air conditioning had gone out in your apartment building that morning, leaving you with an oven to come home to after work. Just my luck you thought to yourself after dropping your stuff onto the counter.

Now, an hour later, you are sprawled on the couch in defeat. One arm was draped over the edge as the other stretched above your head. Your bare legs were spread in a lazy sprawl as you had changed into one of Clark’s oversized t shirts. It clung to your damp torso in places as the hem bunched around the top of your underwear.

When the lock turned, you didn’t even bother lifting your head. The door swings open to your boyfriend stepping into the apartment. His tie was loosened, sleeves rolled up, takeout in one arm, his hair tousled in the way it always was.

He was able to notice the difference in temperature, but he didn’t flinch as he moved to the counter to set everything down. His glasses were taken off and he folded them before settling them neatly down next to his stuff. Your eyes practically narrowed at the smug sight of him. Superman didn’t get hot. Or cold.

“Hey sweetheart,” he says softly, turning to move into the living room. His gaze landed on you, stopping as his expression shifted slightly. His blue eyes sharpened and his jaw tightened just a fraction. He took you in, all of you. The loose shirt, the bare legs, the mess of your hair sticking to your neck, the flush of your skin from the heat.

Your eyes moved to him in a glare. “Don’t,” you warned, voice slightly hoarse from the dry air.

He grinned anyway, a low chuckle coming from him as he moved toward the couch. He picked up your legs together gently before sitting down, holding them as his large frame settled into the couch.

“You look pretty,” he says, one of your bare feet in his hand before lifting your leg and kissing the top of your ankle. “Well, you always look pretty. Right now, you look ravishing.”

You want to ignore him, yank your legs away. You want to push him off of you and call him a dog because you know exactly what’s he doing but you can’t. Your temperature has seemed to rise even more with the way he looks at you and you’re sure your face is completely pink.

“Clark” you say softly, swallowing. “I’m sweating”

His large fingers are now gently rubbing against the skin of your calves as he continues to look down at you, a small smirk and hooded gaze that makes you want to squirm. “I see that. Tell me how to help you,” he says lowly.

Your chest tightens at the question. You’re melting here on the couch, exposed and uncomfortable, and yet every word from him feels like it’s coiling around you.

You force your eyes away from him as you stare up at the ceiling. Suddenly, the heat around you is the last thing on your mind.

He can’t tear his eyes from you in this state. Flushed, sweaty, damp, sprawled out. It unlocks something inside him that he can’t fully explain. And your scent. His thoughts drift to the most vulgar visions of burying himself into that perfect, amplified, heady scent of yours.

His one hand continues to gently squeeze your ankle, his thumb grazing your skin. The other inches up your calf some more, brushing against your knee before it grazes your lower thigh.

“Tell me if you want me to stop,” his voice is low and gravely. His thumb is now tracing tiny designs into the skin of your thigh. They are teasing, gentle, and draws your attention to the way every move he makes is just for you.

Your arm that’s draped above your head twitches slightly, almost reflexively reaching for him. He notices, his lips quirking in the tiniest, approving smile, but he doesn’t break his eyes away from your face. He’s studying you. Learning every reaction, every subtle breath, every flush that blooms across your skin.

He pauses for a moment. “I just want to take care of you, babe,” he murmurs. His voice is soft and low in the way that makes your pulse hammer against your ears.

His eyes never leave yours as he shifts slightly under your legs. He carefully sets them off of his lap before he slowly climbs on top of you. His arms rest on either side of you, holding his weight off of you slightly but he was still heavy.

“My poor baby,” he coos right above your face before pressing the first kiss to your lips. “So warm and uncomfortable. Am I making it worse?”

You squirm slightly, wanting even more as your eyes flicker to his mouth. “Clark…” you breathe, a warning and a plea wrapped all together.

He presses his lips to yours once more, this time with a little more force. Your mouth works against his as he subtly presses himself against you a little more. You can feel him adjusting, shifting closer, the weight of his body enough that your legs tremble slightly in anticipation just from a kiss.

“Let me take care of you” he whispers against the skin of your jaw before kissing your neck. Then again, then again. “So pretty for me in my shirt. You’re gorgeous.”

Your eyelids feel heavy as his hands now find their way to the hem of the shirt, resting under it as they gently grip the damp skin on your hips. He continues to press light kisses against you, over your clothed shoulder, your chest.

His grip is undeniably powerful, but so gentle with you. Just like it always is. His lips linger against your warm skin, teasing and coaxing, making everything inside of you scream with awareness of him.

He begins to inch his way down. You lay there, already feeling spent. Your mind screams with embarrassment. You need to shower. You are sweaty. it torments you.

You are almost lost in thought until your eyes widen in shock. Clark has pressed a kiss right over your heat through the thin material of your underwear.

Your head snaps down to see his head between your legs, smirking now that he has your full attention. The shirt is now pushed up and bunched around your mid torso.

His breath is even warmer than the air around you as he hums softly against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. Meanwhile, Clark is relishing in the state you are in right now. Your smell, the feeling of your damp skin.

His hands move to adjust your thighs, parting you even further for him as his lips finally plant against your inner thigh to give it a kiss.

His movement is slow and teasing, placing gentle kisses on your inner thighs. Your breathing catches as you feel his teeth gently graze the delicate skin. He is careful as he begins to suck, leaving a mark for only the two of you to see as his hands move slowly up to your hips. He never loses the patient, attentive touch as he steadies your hips against the plush fabric of the couch.

You can’t help but let a small whimper escape your lips as his eyes lock with yours. He wants to make sure to catch every sensation, every shiver and sound that comes from you.

His eyes flicker back down to your thighs as you feel his hands lose their grip slightly, trailing down to the waistband of your underwear. His breath holds, his thumbs sneaking under the thin material to rest there slightly as he teases you, giving your thighs a small squeeze.

“Should we get these off?” He asks softly, eyes flickering back up to your face. Your eyes are clouded with want, no, need as your lips are parted. All you can do is nod.

He takes his time looping his fingers around the band, pressing more kisses to your thighs just to feel the wetness of not only your sweat, but now your arousal too.

The feeling of your panties being pulled down is freeing, the actual temperature even cooler than the heat you are feeling inside. You can feel yourself pulsing with need.

Clark’s eyes meet your pussy, so open, inviting and pretty. Your pink folds glisten as he feels a wave of arousal pool in his stomach and his cock twitch.

He can’t help himself and without warning leans forward to press an open mouthed kissed right into you. Your breathing catches in a small gasp as you squirm under him.

His eyes close for a heartbeat as he inhales selfishly, pressing his mouth right into your warm, wet center. But right now was about you, and that inhale all he needed before he lifted his head, his eyes now even darker.

“So gorgeous. Smell so beautiful for me, baby,” he murmurs softly.

His lips press a few more times to your thighs as you bite you lip and whine in anticipation. You can feel yourself throbbing, like actually throbbing as you look down at him between your legs.

“Clark- please” you whimper in a hushed whisper. That was all he needed.

His tongue, flat and warm, starts at the bottom of your folds before moving his head to lick all the way up. The second it runs over your swollen clit your legs clamp tightly. He catches them softly, keeping them open as he presses you gently into the couch once again.

You let out a small cry as he does it again, slowly and taking his time. When Clark eats you out, he never probes, or goes fast, or flicks. He is slow and deliberate and uses your sounds to guide him.

All your fingers can do is find his dark hair as he continues. You hear a couple subtle, faint hums come from his chest. Clark doesn’t just eat pussy to please you, he enjoys every second of it.

He is about to slip his tongue between your crevasse once more before he pauses right below your clit, causing you to gasp and try to move your hips upward into his face.

Instead, he puts his soft lips right around your clit as he softly creates a suction with his mouth. Your head presses back into the couch as moans, gasps, and whines slip past your lips.

He continues his slow movements right against your heat as you feel the familiar sensation growing deep inside your stomach. Your mind is fuzzy as your body trembles.

Your dazed eyes widen as you feel a familiar finger slip inside you. It is slow, like he always is, keeping a steady rhythm as his tongue continues to gently press against your clit. His finger works until it is moving in and out at a steady pace, finding your familiar spot that he has grown to know like the back of his hand. The room is filled with a shared rhythm not only from his movement but also the balance between the both of you: his careful dominance and your soft, desperate need.

You are surprised a word can even make it out. “Clark,” it comes out ragged, like a gasp, pleading with him.

His finger continues to work as he lifts his mouth from you.

“That’s it baby. I got you. Go ahead and let me see you undone, pretty girl,” he says lowly.

He gives you one more slow lap with his tongue before you can’t take it anymore.

Your vision is blurry, legs shaking and your pussy constricts as you let yourself go. A whimper passes your lips as you orgasm.

His finger continues to move slowly in and out of you as you pulse around him tightly. He slows down even more, feeling your legs shake violently as your back arches.

After a moment, he removes his finger and wastes no time to press his mouth against you to lap up the tangy, wonderful taste of you he loves so much. His mouth laps at you like an animal would food.

You lay there, panting and chest heaving as your hooded eyes gaze up at the ceiling. The heat in the air around you is now the last thing on your mind.

“Are you still warm?” His teasing voice breaking you from your spell as you glance down at him, just as he blows some air from his mouth against your heated pussy.

You hiss slightly, biting your lip as you don’t even have the energy to squirm.

Your breathing is still uneven, the heat in your body matched only by the warmth in your cheeks. Clark lingers for a moment longer, pressing one last slow kiss to your thigh before shifting upward, his large hands steadying you as he crawls up over you.

He gently moves you to rest on top of him, positioning himself on the bottom as he wraps you in a hug.

You rest your head on his shoulder, still catching your breath, your fingers curling loosely in the front of his shirt. His heartbeat is steady beneath your ear, and it makes your whole body relax, the intensity of before melting into a comfortable, quiet hum between you.

“Hey” he murmurs, tipping his head so he can look at you, his smile soft. “Still hot?” His big hand is now smoothing against your back.

You give a weak laugh. “It’s about a hundred degrees in here, Clark.”

He chuckles low in his chest, brushing damp hair from your face. “Then maybe” he says, leaning in just enough for his lips to graze your temple, “we should go to my place tonight. I’ve got air conditioning… maybe I should have mentioned this idea before I had the most wonderful meal from my clearly miserable girlfriend.”

notes: What y’all know about getting gross and animalistic ;) my ex used to want to eat me out after I worked out. It’s one of the only things I miss ab him!! Anyway, I knew I had to bring this to life with Clarky and I’m tired of summer sooo yea

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aliendickrocks · 15 days ago

Text

midnight ballerina // Clark Kent as Superman

summary: Trapped in debt to Lex Luthor, you've become his most reliable distraction, sent wherever he needs leverage. When you're ordered to entertain Superman himself, you find yourself caught between the morality of the kindest eyes you had ever met and the ruthless grip of the man who owns you.

pairing: Superman x female reader

content warning: stripper!user, themes of manipulation/ debt bondage, references to stripping/sex work, mention of "owning", men being men *cough cough* disgusting I mean, reader is treated like property

The music from the main floor still pounds against your bones as you slipped off stage. You felt sticky, exhausted, and even after all this time, exposed. Your body still pulsed with adrenaline from the performance, but it faded fast, replaced with the weight that always showed up after.

Your heels clicked against the sticky floor toward the dressing room. Like always, you were stopped before you could even sit down. Marcus, your manager that seemed to hold a permanent cigar scent, appeared in the doorway.

“Luther needs you.”

That was it. No greeting. No break. No time to breathe.

With a sigh, you close your eyes for a second before grabbing the silk robe hanging on your hook. You wrap it around yourself. Your shoulders ached as your head swarmed with the smell of cheap perfume and sweat, but when Lex called, you didn’t stall. You moved.

You didn’t ask for this life. There were so many times where you thought about leaving the city overnight with nothing but a single bag and a sliver of hope. But you couldn’t, not after how deep you had fallen into with Lex.

You had just started your first semester of college when life started getting heavy. Bills piled up, tuition was due, and your mom got sick. Late nights at the hospital made it hard to keep your part time job while still going to class.

Lex Luthor had made it sound so simple in the beginning. One night, one dance, he said. Just enough to help you catch up, a way to breathe for a moment instead of drowning. You told yourself it wasn’t so bad. You could do this.

But one night turned into a few more. The money came faster than you’d ever seen before. Cash in neat envelopes that smelled faintly of cologne and cigar smoke. When you fell short on tuition again, Lex covered it without blinking. When your mom’s medical bills doubled, he took care of those too.

And with every favor, his claws sank deeper.

Soon, you weren’t just dancing. You were his. His right hand distraction. His little game piece. The girl who came running when he snapped his fingers, whether it was to charm a guest, sit pretty at a table, or disappear into some back room on his command.

The backstage hallway was dimly lit by the flickered neon from the club. The floor pulsed from the muffled music.

You pass two men in sharp suits laughing over their glasses of whiskey. Their cufflinks probably costed more than your rent, but their eyes didn’t falter on lingering over you. It was the same look of hunger you had seen a hundred times before. These were the Metropolis elites: the ones who shook hands in public and buried secrets in the dark.

You stopped in front of Lex’s door, your hands wrapped around the cool brass of the door handle as your head lowered slightly with a small sigh. Your stomach churned at the thought of what could possibly be in store for you.

After entering, you shut the door behind you. Lex was there, of course, his back to you as he stares out the floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the main part of the club below.

He didn’t turn. He never acknowledged you right away, almost as if he enjoyed the anticipation building inside you. He brought the glass of bourbon to his lips and took a slow sip as if he didn’t know you were there.

When he finally glanced over his shoulder, he gave you a smirk, his blue eyes filled with anything but genuine intentions. Your eyes flicker to the ground as you swallow.

“You needed to see me, Lex?” You ask softly.

He turns to sit at his desk, setting his drink down as he hold his arms out gesturing to the couch against the wall.

“Please sit, my dear. We have some business to attend to.” His voice is like silk. It almost has a cheerful tone to it, like he hadn’t asked you to do the most heinous acts in the past.

The leather of the couch feels cool against your thighs as you sit. Your hands fidget with each other in your lap as it feels the silence stretches on for an eternity.

“We have a special guest tonight. Flew all the way here to see me,” he tells you simply, opening his phone after his eyes flicker off you. Flew. The word didn’t even register what that really meant. You just automatically assumed it meant a politician from a different country, or some other elite from across the country.

Lex pulls up the live camera footage to one of the private rooms. Although it was a significant invasion of privacy, it was probably one of the most mild things Lex had done in this club alone.

He drops his phone onto the desk, moving it so you could see it. You are slightly surprised to see Superman sitting in there. Your eyebrows furrow slightly, your gaze moving from his screen back to Lex.

“What?” You ask, still confused. “Why is he here?”

Lex just smirks as he takes another sip of his drink.

“To torment me, of course,” he jokes, even though all of his jokes fall flat around you. “He seems to believe I am behind the attack that happened downtown last night. He was kind enough to wait patiently to speak with me. I had him put in our VIP room.”

You find yourself silent. You stare at Lex, wondering where you could possibly come in. He seems to read your mind as he just smirks, glancing back down at the screen.

“I have a few things to finish up before I can meet with our hero,” he tells you. “I need you to keep him company.”

Your eyes widen as they land on his face.

“Lex“ you start, your voice in an immediate panic. “I can’t. He doesn’t even seem like the type that would-“

You can’t even finish your sentence before Lex’s cool voice cuts you off.

“I don’t remember asking,” he says lowly, his eyes narrow. “You seem to forget you don’t have choices anymore. You lost those a long time ago.”

Your lips seal as you look down again.

“Now, you will go in there, and you will keep our boy scout company. Good company. I don’t want you playing any of your games with me. You will distract him, throw him off his game.”

His words fill your ears as your heart sinks even further. You had never even met Superman in person before, but you had seen the news. You saw his interactions. He was approachable, respectful, and a glimmer of hope to so many. He would never allow himself to be entertained by a stripper. But no matter how humiliating this was, you knew you were trapped. What Lex said goes.

Everything seems to be louder as you walk down the hall again. Your heart is beating out of your chest, and your skin was now prickled with goosebumps. You stop outside the door Lex had told you.

After a few seconds, you force yourself to push it open. Sure enough, there he was. You quickly drop your robe to the floor after the door shuts. He had heard you coming from down the hall, but once his eyes landed on you his eyes widened as he seemed to startle slightly.

He tore his eyes off you as he immediately stood up.

“I- I’m sorry.” His voice was deep, but he still stuttered as he moved toward the door. “I must have the wrong room.”

You don’t know how it was possible, but you force your hand to press against his chest, right over the symbol.

Despite him being the strongest being on earth, he freezes at your touch, almost pliable.

“Sit” you say simply, staring up at him through your dark lashes. “I just want to talk. Lex will only be a few more minutes.”

His chest rises under your hand, steady and impossibly strong. You can feel the warmth radiating from him and the quiet strength that makes every instinct in your body shiver but also settle at the same time.

He swallows, jaw working, before letting out a slow breath. “You… you don’t understand,” he murmurs, voice low, still guarded. “I-“

“Shh,” you interrupt softly, keeping your hand pressed lightly against his chest. “I just want to talk. Lex won’t be long.”

For a moment he just studies you, as if he’s trying to read the truth behind your gaze. There’s something about the way you stand, so small under him, yet so determined that makes him hesitate. His usual confident composure he carries as Superman has faltered. You see it, causing your chest to tighten with a mixture of fear but also an unfamiliar kind of thrill.

Eventually, he nods. He takes a step back before slowly returning to his spot on the couch. The room is dimly lit as you sit on the opposite side. You try to appear calm even though your hands were shaking slightly. You push a piece of hair behind your ear as your smooth legs press against the leather.

His eyes are avoiding you as they stare at the door, his jaw clenched.

The silence draws on for what seems like forever as you bite your lip.

You force yourself to speak, your voice teasing and a small smile on your lips despite the way you are trembling inside. “Am I really that bad?” You ask quietly.

He freezes for a moment, his eyes flickering over to you briefly as he forces them to stay on your face.

“Bad?” He asks, voice low, afraid of saying anything that might come out wrong. “No. Not at all. You’re… striking”

The word he chose causes a shiver to run up your spine. Of all the things you had been called, you weren’t sure if anyone here had referred to you as that.

You smile softly as you continue to stare at him. You can just hear Lex’s voice sneering at you in your head. Get busy. Distract him he would growl.

You find yourself standing up and making your way closer. You are slow, deliberate, as you sway toward him. Your body language is teasing as you try to draw his attention.

You pause in front of him, your heartbeat loud in your ears as you try to climb onto his lap. He freezes until his hands grip your hips firmly before you can lower yourself fully onto him. The strength in his touch makes your stomach flutter, but his force isn’t rough. It’s gentle, almost feeling protective.

You know he isn’t stupid. You know he wouldn’t be easy to fall for such a distraction, but your mind swarmed with desperation as he held you off of him.

You swallow, your eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“Please” you say softly next to his ear, your forehead almost resting against his shoulder. “Lex is watching. I have to. Please let me”

There’s a pause. You feel a small squeeze against your hips as the silence in the room seems like even the air is holding its breath. Then, you feel his grip falter just slightly. Your body falls into his lap gently, now pressing against his thighs as you feel like you might be able to pass out in that moment.

You had danced for all kinds of men. The politicians who played the part of hometown “family” men, smiling for the tv while giving citizens a charming smile to make them trust them. Dangerous criminals who gripped you too tightly, grabbed at you a little too roughly. But for some reason, none of that felt as slimy as you felt now. Superman sat under you, clenching his jaw and holding his breath as you grinded into his lap. He wouldn’t even look at you.

Your small, shaky hands found his shoulders as you gripped them. It’s almost over. Almost over is all you could repeat in your head as your bodies pressed so tightly together.

He smelled so… normal. Nothing like you were expecting. He didn’t reek of expensive cologne that men here doused themselves in, or cigars, or liquor. Just shampoo. Also not what you were expecting from someone like, well, Superman.

Despite his blank expression, his heart pounded in his chest as your body felt so soft, so inviting against him. He could control his lust, sure, but it was getting harder to push away the thoughts coursing through his brain.

His head tilted back slightly as he went to count the dark ceiling tiles. No, that didn’t help. He tried to focus in on any sound he could to drown out the sounds of your heartbeat.

He focused in on a room down the hall, and he tried to settle himself until he started to realize what he was listening to. Is that someone getting a blow- he couldn’t even finish the thought as he almost lets out a gasp and turns his attention back to you. He will just have to deal with your heartbeat, he thinks.

He tries to think of something to say. Something that would make you more comfortable or feel better. That’s just who he was.

His eyes flicker to the strap of your red bra as his heart feels like it is pounding out of his chest. “This is a nice color on you,” he tells you, his deep voice muttering the words softly before he can even process them. He wants to wince as he hopes that didn’t come off as creepy as it sounded in his head.

But your eyes meet his again as your heart squeezes. You find yourself with a small grin, a genuine one, as you let out a quiet, half laugh. You weren’t sure you had ever heard anything so innocent said in these four walls.

Your eyes drop to his chest again as you bite your lip, turning your head slightly. “It kinda matches your cape,” you reply softly, taking the material between your fingers.

He seems amused by that as there is a small smile on his lips now. One with dimples. And oh god, if Lex doesn’t get here soon.

You find your eyes flickering down to his smile, stuck on his lips for a split second too long until the noise of the door rings through the room.

“Superman!” Lex’s voice booms cheerfully as he clasps his hands together. You almost yelp as you jump slightly from being startled by the outburst.

You feel one of Superman’s hands now rest on your side, his body tense as his eyes are now on Lex.

“I heard you needed to speak with me. I’m so delighted that you have made yourself so comfortable,” Lex sneers in a faux tone with a smirk. His eyes then flicker to you as they seem to turn even colder. “Get out. Now” he commands.

Without another word, you are out of Superman’s lap as you rush toward the door. You don’t even look back after wrapping yourself up and quickly leaving the room.

The rush of what just happened is overwhelming as you feel your legs shake from walking down the dimly lit hall. The music courses through you once more, pounding inside you as your head spins.

The money, the debt, the control Luther has over you has seemed to slip to the back of your mind. Now all you can think about is despite all of the things wrong in your life, you had never felt as safe as you did in Superman’s lap.

notes: Ughh I feel like this is cringe bc I haven't written fanfic since my one direction days but pls don't make fun of me thank youuu don't make me delete my account xxx

#clark kent x reader #clark x reader #superman x reader #superman #clark kent #superman 2025 #superman fanfic #clark kent fanfic #is this smut?#no #smut #this was so fun #dc comics #lex luther #dark romance #stripper au #fanfiction

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