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ilyasorokinn · 10 days ago

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the smoking gun , clark kent

note, i need this man, it isn't funny anymore. he's just so wonderful. i now know more about money laundering and illegal firearms than the average person should i think lol. idk where this came from, but i hope you enjoy! :) pair, clark kent / superman (2025) x reader summary, clark kent has an in with someone who works in the metropolis police department: his girlfriend y/n. so, when a money laundering front shows up in the middle of town, clark knows where to go. warnings, crime, money laundering word count, 4676 words

(gif not mine)

The Metropolis Police Department lobby was exactly what Clark Kent thought it would be. It was dark, gloomy, and lacking anything colorful, unless you counted the rainbow mug on the secretary's desk, but that was it.

He glanced around, taking in the posters on the walls. Most of them were anti-crime posters, telling people not to steal or murder, one even telling kids not to do drugs. He smiled when he saw one with a Superman caricature on it.

"Mr. Kent?" A familiar voice called out. His head whipped up, and the woman couldn't help but smile at him. "You can follow me." You nodded towards the door you had just walked out of, waiting for him to stand up.

He quickly gathered his stuff, fumbling with his files, then stood up and straightened out his glasses, a nervous smile on his face. He looked back up to you, only to find you smiling back at him.

"You ready, Clark?" You raised a teasing brow at him.

"Yes." He nodded, slinging his back over his shoulder, and following you further into the building.

As you led him through the building towards the elevator, he couldn't help but look around at everything. Compared to his own office, everything felt much... dark. It was something he could put his finger on, but it sent a shiver down his spine as he kept walking.

"The difference in our offices is startling." He joked, sitting down in the little chair next to your desk.

You only smiled, scotching closer into your desk, and placing your head in your hands as you looked over at him, "So, what brings you down to my neck of the woods?" You asked.

"I can't just visit you at work?" He smiled innocently. You raised a brow, "All right, fine, you caught me." He rolled his eyes, pulling out a file from the stack he had been carrying, "I need your help with something."

You stared at him curiously as you took the file. You flipped through it, your face neutral, "How did this fall into your lap?" You finally looked back up at him.

"I have a friend," He stated, keeping his face as neutral as possible, "Look, I can't reveal my source." He added.

"Does your source fly and wear tights?" You teased, raising a brow at him.

"Leave the tights alone." He joked, rolling his eyes playfully, pushing the file closer to you once again.

"Clark..." You sighed, dropping your head into your hands. Money laundering had been a more popular crime as of late, and it was getting more and more out of hand.

"Can you just look into this? The man who owns the restaurant is older, and I just know something fishy is going on here." He opened the file and pulled out the owner of the restaurant.

"Thank you, Detective Kent. Remind me when you took the detective's exam." You asked sarcastically, raising a sarcastic brow at him.

"Y/N..." He was begging you with his eyes, and you were finding it hard to say no to him. You stared at him, looking into his eyes before looking away.

"I'll look into it, gimmie a few days." You told him, looking back over and smiling.

"Thank you," He sounded relieved, his shoulders dropping as he leaned back in the chair, "All right, I gotta get back to work. See you tonight?"

"I'm expecting pancakes tomorrow morning." You told him, raising a teasing brow at him once again.

"I'll add chocolate chips just for you." He smiled, placing a soft kiss on your head, and speeding out the door.

Later that night, you were still hunched over your desk. Practically everyone else had left for the night, aside from your boss, who was still in his office.

The case file Clark had brought you had proven to have more information than you thought, and led you down a deep hole. The small Chinese restaurant was owned by an older man named Chin Wei. From the outside, the restaurant looked innocent, and the reviews were good enough on Yelp that it didn't set off any alarm bells.

Their financial records, however, were a different story. How Clark had gotten these wasn't something you wanted to know, but looking it over made you raise a brow. Every other week, there would be larger transactions that would be deposited into bank accounts at four different banks around the city.

Taking your pen into your mouth, you wrote down the account numbers as a door shut nearby. You didn't even glance up when you heard approaching footsteps.

"Still here, Y/L/N?" You finally looked up when your boss, Chief Harry Patrick, was standing right next to your desk.

"Yes, sir." You nodded, sitting back in your seat and stretching your legs momentarily.

He smiled warmly, slipping his jacket on, "Well, I'm heading out." He announced.

"All right, sir." You nodded, going back to the computer screen in front of him.

He stared at you for a moment, studying you and smiling, "You hungry, Y/L/N?"

You glanced up, raising a brow, "I could eat, sir." You nodded.

"How about Mexican?"

That was how you ended up in the Taqueria. It was pretty popular considering it was almost 9pm, but they were some of the best tacos you had ever had.

"Where did you get this information?" Chief Patrick glanced up from the file over to you across the table.

"I have a CI, sir." You informed him, poking at the noodles on your plate.

"All right," He nodded, thumbing through the file and running a tired hand over his face, "Call me Harry. We're off the clock now." He shrugged.

"Yet here we are, talking about a case," You pointed out with a laugh.

"With this job, work's always coming home with you." He joked.

"Don't I know it?" You muttered, taking a sip of your water.

"All right," He nodded, setting the file down and closing it, "You're running point on this. Don't let me down." He stated.

You simply stared at him, trying to comprehend what he had just said, "I won't, sir." You stated.

"I know you won't." He nodded.

You arrived home on a high. Clark had gotten home much earlier than you and had received your quick texts about working late. When you walked through the door, he could sense your good mood.

"What's got you in such a good mood?" He popped his head out from the kitchen.

You smiled at the sight of him. He had long since dumped his work attire and now wore pajama pants with cats on them, glasses slightly askew, and his hair ruffled like he had been running his hands through it.

"I'm lead on that laundering case you gave me." You beamed.

"No way!" His face lit up. He dropped whatever he was doing and practically ran over to you. You laughed when he picked you up, spinning you around, "That's amazing!" He pulled away just far enough so that he could kiss you.

"So, when you get that front page, I'd better be mentioned first." You joked.

The next morning, the bells above the door at Wei's Food and Baos jingled. Chin Wei looked up at the front door of his restaurant as the bells jingled. He smiled, but when he saw who it was, the smile quickly changed into something else.

"You're early," Chin stated, looking to the ground as the man approached him, his own army of security surrounding him. All of them stood tall with guns in places he couldn't see, but he knew they had them.

"I am." The man nodded, his face stone cold, "Just making sure you're on top of it." He slipped his hands into his pockets, an emotionless expression on his face.

"I am, sir. I promise." Wei nodded frantically, his heart racing so fast he almost couldn't catch his breath.

"All right," Douglas Astor nodded, "We'll be back." A threat or a promise, it sent a shock to the man's heart.

The men had left a few minutes prior, when the doors opened and the bell above the door jingled once again. Chin was still shaken and couldn't even look up to greet the person at the door.

"Mr. Wei?" A familiar, kind voice caught his attention, and the man looked up.

"Superman!" The man exclaimed, straightening up and trying to get himself together.

"Are you all right, sir?" Superman asked, his eyes soft and full of concern, trying to not move too fast and startle the man.

"Oh, yes. Don't worry about me. What can I get for you?" Chin asked, grabbing a nearby notepad and plastering on the best smile he could.

"Mr. Wei?" The man looked up, meeting the superhero's eyes finally, "Are you okay?"

"You have so many problems to deal with, Superman. I don't want to burden you with mine." Chin shook his head.

"I can guarantee it wouldn't be a burden, Mr. Wei," Superman told him. Chin looked up at him and finally met his eyes.

He sighed, "Not here." He led the hero into the back room and into the freezer, the one place in the restaurant that wasn't recorded.

"There's a man, his name is Douglas Astor..."

"I'm familiar with him." Superman nodded along, crossing his arms and leaning against the nearby wall.

"He's running all of the sales from his armsdeals through my restaurant, I don't know why, but that's all I do know."

"Arms dealing isn't illegal." Superman thought out loud.

"I'm not sure why he does anything, sir," Chin stated.

"I have a..." He paused for a moment, struggling to find the right words, "Friend." He finally landed on, "She works for the police-"

"No! I can't. If I go to the police, he'll kill my family. Please, Superman." Chin begged, shaking his head as tears suddenly welled in his eyes.

Superman paused, pushing his lips before dropping his head, "She can help." He tried.

"My family, please." The man pleaded.

"All right," Superman finally relented with a hesitant sigh. Chin made sure Superman was fed on a meal of baos, rice noodles, and pork chops. He even got a little goodie bag to take home. He lifted off the ground, waving goodbye to Chin one last time with only one thing on his mind.

He wasn't gonna let this go so easily.

You rubbed your eyes, blinking a few times as things on the screen got blurrier and blurrier. You heard the commotion and looked up to where the noise was coming from.

A flurry of commotion was running into the bullpen, and they were headed right to you. Clark suddenly appeared, looking disheveled as ever, the secretary from the front desk following after him.

She finally caught up to him as he stopped by your desk, bending over, and attempting to catch her breath, "I tried to stop him," She panted.

"It's all right, Meredith." You reassured her with a smile and a wave. She glanced at Clark once more, glaring at him briefly before turning and heading back to her desk, "You're gonna get me in trouble, Kent."

"I had to talk to you." The look on his face told you he wasn't in a joking mood, and you nodded, "Do you have anything on the laundering case?"

"I can't disclose that to you, Clark. You know that." You reminded him, tilting your head at him.

"I know, I know. But I might have something." He pulled out a small recording device from his pocket.

"How'd you get this?" You examined it briefly before looking back over to him, "You figured out how to work this?"

"Barely, look, just listen to it." He begged.

You reached for your earbuds, sitting down and listening to the conversation, then setting the recording device down and looking back up at him.

"So?" He raised a brow, crossing his arms and shifting from one foot to the other.

"It's good, but it's not enough." You began.

"Not enough?" He scoffed.

"Clark..." You began.

"I just wrapped up the case for you with a bow on top!" He exclaimed, raising his arms dramatically.

"No, you didn't. If I show this to anyone, let alone Douglas Astor, he'll laugh in my face and throw me out on my ass. I have nothing concrete; this is all circumstantial." You explained.

"This man is in fear for his life. He's being threatened, and you're saying you can't do anything about it?" Clark narrowed his eyes at you.

"No, I'm saying I need more than this." You narrowed your eyes right back.

"So, you're giving up." He shrugged.

"No, Clark, I'm not. I'm saying I can't do anything right now."

"It sounds a lot like you don't care and you're giving up." The anger melted into something different, something sadder. He saw your shift, and immediately tried to backtrack, "Y/N, wait..."

"I'm busy, Mr. Kent." You told him, your tone shifting in just. a few seconds, and it scared him. He opened his mouth to say something, but you were already sitting back in your seat and no longer looking at him.

"Chief?" You popped your head into the man's office, "Can I talk to you for a second?"

"What can I do for you, Y/L/N? How's that laundering case goin'?" He asked, setting his glasses down and giving you his full attention.

"It's going... okay?" You shrugged, "Found out why he's laundering." He raised a brow, "His arms deals, they aren't legal obviously, but it's not what you'd think. When you think illegal, you think sawed off shotguns, that typa stuff, but not Astor." He nodded along once again.

"He's selling crazy guns you can't even find on the black-market. They fire quicker than an assault rifle, which I didn't know was possible. The numbers are all scratched off, they're all personalized to the buyer, and he's making bank on this."

"How are they personalized?" He raised a curious brow.

"They come in for a fitting, like you'd get fitted for a suit." You explained, "But I have an idea."

"All right, give it to me." He nodded, leaning in closer.

"I've been studying everything about this case, about Douglas Astor, and I think the next thing to do is go undercover." The look on his face gave you his answer, "Sir, I'm hitting dead end after dead end, and I wouldn't be here if I didn't have to."

"Y/L/N..." He trailed off, shaking his head.

"Sir, please. I know everything about this case." Your eyes were pleading along with the tone of your face.

"We have UCs for this." He reminded you, raising a brow.

"They don't know what I know. I've researched every nook and cranny of his finances and what he does. He has a gala coming up, and this is my in. Please." You begged.

He let out a sigh, shaking his head and rubbing his eyes, "Under one condition."

"Anything." You nodded desperately.

"You're not going in alone." Your brows furrowed together in confusion, "I don't care if it's together or not, we'll have eyes in there."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, sir." You nodded.

Those weeks passed slowly. You went to work every day, digging deeper into Astor's financials as well as Chin's financials. You dug through every file you could get your hands on in Astor's name.

Parking tickets, receipts, anything with the name Douglas Astor on it, you had seen. You had seen the name so many times, it was starting to not look like a name.

You knew Clark was a good man, and he always wanted to do the right thing. He refused to kill mice and would let them go before setting a trap in the house; that was just the kind of person he was.

So, you didn't take it to heart that he was so passionate about this one specific case. His comment did hurt, but when you got home later that night, he had made dinner and set the table nicely. He spent the rest of the night apologizing, making sure you knew he was apologetic and felt bad.

He knew about you going undercover and didn't love the idea. "What day?" He asked, his eyes not leaving the TV screen in front, playing a movie neither of you was really paying attention to, but was on for the sake of distraction.

"Next Saturday," You responded, looking over at him and raising a brow, "Is Superman going to be making an appearance?"

"No, why would you think that?" He asked, his voice suddenly high-pitched.

"Clark, I can take care of myself." You reminded him, "I don't need you hovering over my shoulder."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Superman has a very busy schedule," Clark stated, a pointed look on his face.

"Right, well, whenever you're interviewing him next, let him know you're being annoying and I can take care of myself." You punched him softly.

"I am not being annoying." He huffed, "I'm worried about you. You know, you always make fun of me for being protective, but in this situation, I think I have a right to be." He defended.

"I know, I'm teasing. Just don't break through the ceiling and steal my moment." You pointed your finger at him.

"I won't, I'll steal the spotlight another day." He joked, rolling his eyes, but leaning over and kissing your head.

Your heart was beating so loudly you could hear it in your ears. You were sure the detective sitting next to you, whose name you didn't even know, could probably see your pulse popping out from your neck.

"This your first time?" The woman asked, smiling warmly at you.

"That obvious?" You chuckled nervously, wringing your hands together in your lap.

"This is my thing, so just try not to think about this being a case, immerse yourself in this. You're not Y/N, you're Celeste." Her words did manage to settle your nerves just a little.

"Thank you." You nodded, blowing out a breath. You could see the giant building approaching through the window. The chauffeur walked around to the back door and held the door open while you and the other woman exited.

You took his hand, glancing up at the giant building ahead of you. The necklace you were wearing had a small camera embedded in the small gem, and you had a small com in your ear so everyone located in a van parked nearby could hear.

You knew Clark was probably parked on the roof of a random building, just far enough that he couldn't be spotted, but close enough that he could still hear what was happening.

The woman who was in the car with you locked arms with the man who was sitting in the front seat, sending you a subtle nod before they entered the building.

You took a breath, shaking out your nerves the best you could, before making your way into the building. You entered the building, showing the security guards at the front the invitation, then handing them your jacket.

The first waiter who passed was lucky, carrying a tray of champagne flutes. You greedily grabbed one and downed it in one gulp, glancing around the room.

You spotted Douglas Astor almost immediately, standing at the top of the stairs with his right-hand man, surveying the crowd. You turned your head, looking around and surveying the scene in front of you.

"Astor spotted," You muttered, covering your mouth with a small cough.

"Do not engage, wait for a distraction, Y/L/N." You heard Chief Patrick in your ear.

"Copy that," You whispered, covering your mouth with the flute. You walked through the rest of the building, looking around at the paintings hanging on the wall, "Rich people." You muttered, shaking your head.

"Ladies and gentlemen..." Everyone's attention quickly shifted upwards towards the front of the room and towards the small makeshift stage where Douglas Astor stood, a smile only a rich man with dark secrets would plaster on his face.

With your distraction in place, you slipped out of the room. Making your way through the halls, you peeked your head in every room, trying to find Astor's office.

"Of course it's at the end of the hall." You muttered, checking your surroundings before entering the office. You made your way around the giant desk sitting in the middle of the room, and bent over the desk.

"All right, Leo." You reached into your pocket and pushed the small USB into the side of the computer. "Do your thing." Leo Vince hacked into the computer system, downloading everything onto the USB you had plugged in.

You waited, anxiously looking around to make sure no one was coming, "Any day now, Leo." You told him.

"I'm almost done." He responded. You could hear his fingers moving across his keyboard. You could hear clapping downstairs, and a few cheers and whistles. "All right, done." You ripped the USB out, cleared the search history, and closed all the tabs.

You turned off the computer, rushed out of the room. You managed to shut the door and stick the USB into your bra when you heard footsteps approaching.

You managed to slow your pace just in time to come face-to-face with Douglas Astor himself. He didn't even look shocked or surprised to see you; in fact, he showed no emotion when he made it to the top of the stairs.

"Can I help you with something?" He raised a brow.

"Was looking for the restroom." You responded with a shrug and a faux nervous chuckle.

"How's that going for you?" He joked, a playful smile on his face.

"Not great, I'll admit." You nodded, wrapping your arms around yourself as you looked up at him.

"I'll bet." He nodded, raising a calculated brow and slipping his hands into his pockets, "What's your name?"

"Celeste." You answered, tilting your head, "I'm a writer, you see. That's why I'm here." You explained.

"I'm flattered you chose my gala, I have to say." He nodded, "Are you working on anything?"

"Just a little mystery novel." You responded with a shrug. "A girl and a boy meet, she ends up dead."

"Anything else?" He raised a brow once again.

"Of course, but then what's the point when I can leave you on a cliffhanger and wanting more?" You shrugged, a smirk on your face.

He was about to speak when suddenly, the doors banged open and SWAT agents rushed in, their guns raised and shouting words so loud they weren't coherent.

When Astor looked back at you, you couldn't help but smirk bigger, "Gotcha."

You were sitting outside the building, leaning on the hood of a car with a police jacket wrapped around you. Blue and red flashed all around you as police took statements, placed Astor's men in the back of the cars, and finished up.

You straightened up when you saw Chief Patrick approaching, his hands in his pockets, "Sir." You nodded.

"Y/L/N, I'm proud of you." Your heart warmed, and you smiled, "Good job." He nodded, a proud smile on his face as he spoke.

"Thank you, sir." He reached out, and you shook his hand. Once his back was turned, you leaned back on the car, a smile on your face as his words sank in.

"Sir, please!" You heard a familiar voice shout from behind the yellow tape. You smiled to yourself, making your way over to where the commotion was happening.

"My girlfriend, she's the lead detective on this case," Clark begged.

"Sure, bud." The cop nodded, rolling his eyes.

"Let him in." You instructed, glancing over to the officer and flashing him your badge, "I'm the lead detective." You emphasized.

The cop looked conflicted before holding up the tape. Clark bent down at an awkward angle, not even looking at the officer who refused to let him in. He was focused solely on you.

The proud smile on his face was enough to make an iceberg melt. Once you were in a more private spot hidden behind a larger police vehicle, he bent down and wrapped his arms around you, lifting you off the ground once again.

"I don't think there are even enough words in the world for me to explain how proud I am of you." His words were slightly muffled due to him shoving your face into your neck, but you heard him all the same.

"Well, if you hadn't given me that file, we wouldn't be here." You reminded him.

"I know, but you did all the heavy lifting." He pulled away for a moment, admiring you even if his neck was bent at an awkward angle.

"I did." You nodded, a smile on your face.

He pulled you in one more time, squeezing you and peppering your face with kisses, "All right, all right, I have to talk to the press for a second, then I can leave." You told him.

"Just talk to me, and we can leave." He practically groaned.

"I know you interview yourself all the time, but I don't know if that'll work this time." You joked, "Besides, it's TV press." You gestured to the small podium in front of the building, caution tape decorating behind.

"I want to celebrate you, I know a good little Chinese restaurant." He joked.

"I'll give you an exclusive later, I gotta do this first." You kissed his cheek and sent him a wink before making your way over to the flashing cameras.

"ASTOR ARRESTED: SHOT HIMSELF IN THE FOOT" was plastered all around the Daily Planet. Clark had been on cloud 9 all morning. His article was on the front page, with a gorgeous picture of you.

There you were on the front page, speaking into a walkie-talkie to someone, looking authoritative (Clark wouldn't admit it to anyone but you, but you looked hot). You were wearing the police jacket and were looking over a file.

He had decided, when he saw the final copy, they it would hang on a wall in your house next to a framed photo of Krypto that you had begged Clark to hang despite his whining and begging not to.

The elevator dinged, and Clark just happened to glance up in that moment, and stood from his seat when he saw you standing there. You smiled, tilting your head to the side and raising a brow.

"I was trying to surprise you, but surprising you is like trying to discipline your dog." You joked, rolling your eyes playfully.

"Krypto technically isn't my dog." He corrected.

"Whatever." You shook your head, "Was wondering if you wanted to get lunch."

"I've got a few minutes to spare." He nodded, reaching out and logging out of his computer, "What were you thinking?"

"Chinese?"

The bells above the door to Wei Food and Baos jingled, and Chin Wei looked up, a smile on his face when he saw you and Clark walk in.

"Welcome, welcome, table for two?" He grabbed some menus, approaching you both.

"Yes, sir." Clark nodded, leading you over to the table Chin was gesturing towards, "Thank you."

Chin studied you for a moment before breaking out into tears, "Oh." You glanced over at Clark, "Mr. Wei, please don't cry."

"You saved me and my family." He managed to get out through tears, "I can't thank you enough." He grabbed your hands, holding them tightly.

"I'm only sorry I couldn't help you sooner, sir." You smiled sadly, squeezing his hands back.

He straightened up, wiping his tears, "Mr. Kent, your article also brought more people in, so thank you for that."

"I only pointed them in the direction, your food is what's keeping 'em here." Clark smiled.

Chin stood there for a moment, smiling down at both of you, "And if you ever see Superman, tell him 'thank you'."

Clark only smiled, "I'll be sure to pass the message along."

my taglist: @golden-hoax @daisydark @cpt-cevans

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ilyasorokinn · 13 days ago

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the pitt

* = from a prompt list

michael “robby” robinavitch !

fics,

✷ expect the unexpected - y/n and robby were something so long ago that gray hair wasn't even a worry in his head. now, with a head fill of gray hair, y/n and robby, by some miracle, find each other again. this time, he isn't letting go.

[ wips ] [ masterlist of masterlists ] [ taglist ]

#the pitt #the pitt masterlist #taylor’s masterlists

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ilyasorokinn · 13 days ago

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this comment 🥹 thank you i’m so glad when people notice things like this. this almost made me cry. thank you!!! 🫶🏻

clark kent’s love language , clark kent

note, y'all i've loved this man since 2019. i'm so glad everyone is hopping on this train fr. ALSO, i know women are capable of saving themselves, but i'm desperately single, and want a knight of shining armor of my own. so what better than to write about a 6'5 knight in shining armor. pair, clark kent / superman (2025) x reader summary, clark thinks his love language is to keep you safe. he likes to check in on you every once in a while during the day. one afternoon, his daily check-in's prove to be necessary. warnings, grocery store robbery, guns word count, 1479 words

(gif not mine)

Clark Kent liked to make sure you were okay.

It's just the type of person he was. He cared deeply for the people around him. You, he cared more deeply than anyone he'd ever met. So, throughout the day, he wanted to make sure you were okay.

Every so often, he would zero in on your voice overtop the overlapping voices of Metropolis. The second he heard your voice, even if you were reprimanding a student, a wave of calm would wash over him.

This wasn't something you were aware of. You knew of his alter ego, and would always dread when he would fly into the night, donning a cape and a large 'S' on his chest, but you knew it was who Clark was.

Saving and helping the people of Metropolis was in his blood. But there was always that little pit of worry that settled in the bottom of your stomach when you would kiss him goodbye and hope he came back in one piece.

You knew he worried about you, especially with the rising crime rates. It wasn't something he voiced, but he never liked to bother you with his heroic duties. So, instead, you learned to read him. Read his responses, read his reactions, read how actions.

Sometimes, Clark would find it hard to sleep, having awful nightmares of you getting injured or worse, ending up in a position because of him.

So, he made it his duty to take care of you, even if you insisted you didn't need him to look over your shoulder for you.

Today was no different.

He sat at his desk, frantically typing away at his computer as he tried to figure out a good hook for his newest article. He checked the clock, and his heart began racing.

2:25.

2:30 was the exact time he would check on you, right on the dot (He was punctual like that). His co-worker picked up on his brief breaks and knew that Clark Kent would go outside at exactly 2:30 every day. What he did, they never knew, and although they were curious, they wouldn't pry it out of him.

He pushed his chair out, stretching his legs, then reaching for his water bottle that was sitting on his desk. It was a gag gift you had gotten him for Christmas one year. A Superman-themed water bottle that he proudly brought to work every day.

It was so obviously a children's water bottle, but he proudly brought it in every day because it was a gift you had gotten him, even if it was a joke.

"Heading down for your break, Clark?" Jimmy Olsen teased, looking up from his own desk.

"You know it." Clark chuckled, straightening his tie before pushing his chair in and heading for the elevator.

He pressed the 'G' button, bouncing on the heels of his feet as he waited to reach the bottom floor. Once the door opened, he took his time heading for the back entrance where he would go for his daily breaks.

He first made sure the alley was empty before closing his eyes. He cracked his neck, taking a breath and focusing. His brows furrowed together as he tried to find your voice.

This morning, you decided to call in sick to work, needing a break from the needy voices of children you taught every day. It was just one of those days when you needed a break and not walk into a room where 20 kids were clamoring for your attention.

As he zeroed in on your voice, it was like every voice around him, every voice in the city, was being sucked up by a vacuum, disappearing the moment he put any effort into shutting them off.

"Sir!" That caught his attention. The desperation was clear in your voice, and it made his heart pick up. He also didn't miss the loud and erratic beating of your heart.

"Shut up!" The man in question snarled back. Your heart sped up, and that was enough for him.

In the blink of an eye, gone was his work attire, and he was launching into the sky, red cape billowing below him. He flew through the sky, trying to locate where you were.

You weren't at home, he knew that. Definitely not at work. Not visiting any friends.

Where were you?

Finally, the voices started clearing up, and he knew he was getting closer. He tilted his head to the side as he landed.

A grocery store?

"Empty the registers, or I'll light this place up!" The man demanded, waving his gun around like it was going to protect him.

Superman busted through the doors, "You know, there's a help wanted sign on the front door. You could've just applied." The superhero raised a brow at the robber.

You would recognize that voice anywhere, and you knew, sooner than later, Clark would've heard. Your head shot up, and you looked over at him. There he stood, in all of his glory, cape blowing in the wind behind him as he stood up tall.

"Superman?" The robber looked confused to see the man standing in front of him. He was only a flimsy supermarket robber, not a scientist trying to blow up a building.

"But, I guess when you're holding a gun in everyone's face, that gets you what you want." Superman shrugged, a nonchalant look on his face.

The robber, stupidly, held up his gun and took his aim. He shot off once, watching in horror as the bullet simply bounced off Superman's chest.

"Uh-oh." Superman took one step, smacking the gun out of the robber's hand.

Minutes went by, and sirens could be heard heading in the direction of Metropolis Grocers. The cops walked in and didn't hide their surprise when they found Superman looming over the attempted robber.

"Superman." The officers looked confused.

"Officers." The man greeted with a nod, "I'm sure you're capable of dealing with this..." He trialed off, simply shaking his head.

"Yes, sir." The officer nodded, pulling out a pair of handcuffs and handcuffing the man in front of them.

More officers began arriving, taking statements from witnesses and offering medical attention to the one person who ended up getting injured in the crossfire.

You leaned against your car by yourself, your arms wrapped around yourself as you waited for your turn to talk to an officer. You heard someone approaching, whose footsteps told you they were worried but were trying not to hide it.

You looked up and couldn't help but smile in relief when you saw Clark standing in front of you, wearing what he had gone to work in that morning.

"Boy, it's good to see you." You joked, wrapping your arms around him and leaning into his warmth.

"You're telling me." He sounded just as relieved, "How are you feeling? Did he hurt you?" He pulled away, cupping your face so he could look you over for injuries.

"I'm fine, I'm fine." You reassured him, brushing his hands off, "A little shaken up, but he didn't hurt me. I'm okay." You shook your head.

"Are you sure?"

"I just really want to go home." You admitted shakily. He wordlessly wrapped his arms around you again, kissing your head and hugging you.

You melted into his arms, engulfed in his warmth and his scent. After a traumatic ordeal, the only thing you wanted was Clark.

"I'm gonna go talk to an officer, then we'll go home, okay?" You nodded apprehensively, "I promise." He reassured you again.

"I'll be here." You tried to joke, and he managed to give you a small smile.

You wrapped your arms around yourself again as you watched Clark approach an officer. They talked, Clark explaining what had happened to you, then he walked back over to you.

"Give me your keys." He demanded, holding his hand out. You handed him your keys, and he walked you over to the passenger side. He opened the door for you and waited for you to get in.

He climbed into the driver's side, wincing when he got in, and his knees were up to his chest. He cranked the seat back, sitting slightly more comfortably, then glancing over at you.

"What were you even doing here?" He asked the question that had been on his mind.

"Wanted to make you something special for dinner. "You shrugged, "Guess the universe didn't want me cooking today." You joked.

"Yeah, it was the universe doing us all a favor." He smiled when you let out a small laugh, "We'll go home and I'll make you some grilled cheese."

"And..."

"A side of tomato soup." He finished your sentence with a smile, "I'm gonna take care of you. Don't worry." He reassured, reaching over for your hand and placing a soft kiss on your palm.

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i know this is short but TRUST i have more stuff coming 🙂‍↕️

#icymi <3

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ilyasorokinn · 16 days ago

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good taste , clark kent

note, okay, guys wow you really enjoyed the last little thing i wrote. i love you all, thank you so much!! i've now seen the movie, so expect more stuff!! pair, clark kent / superman (2025) x reader summary, clark can't get drunk, so whenever you go out with friends, he's always there to make sure you're okay. warnings, drinking, alcohol, getting drunk word count, 1024 words (sorry it’s shorter)

(gif not mine)

The cup in his hand was beginning to get slippery as the ice melted. He set it down, wiping his hand on the napkin before his eyes went back to the dance floor.

This was not how Clark imagined his Friday would go. He wanted to get home, put his feet up, throw a pizza in the oven, or order if you were feeling fancy, watch movies still you fell asleep, and that would be his night.

Instead, he found himself sitting in the back of some bar, drinking a lukewarm cup of whatever, watching you to make sure no one got too close to you or your friends.

He didn't have to come; in fact, he invited himself.

When you walked through the door with Clark trailing behind, your friends moaned and groaned because it was supposed to be a girls' night. But, Clark managed to convince them to let him stay with the promise of driving everyone home. And how could they say no to a Clark Kent smile?

So, he sat in the back of the bar, sipping a lukewarm drink, eating some stale chips, and watching you. He couldn't help the smile that was growing as he watched you dance freely with your friends.

He straightened up in his seat as you headed over to the bar. You greeted the bartender with a polite smile, ordering your drink, then going back to your friends.

He deflated when you got back safely, going back to his stale chips. With all his attention on you, he totally missed the girl walking over to his table until she put her hand on his shoulder.

He flinched, almost jumping out of his seat as he whipped around to her. He stared at her with wide eyes, "Hiya, hotstuff." Clark winced at her bad pickup line, trying to push her hands off of him.

"Ma'am." He nodded, trying to find you in the crowd. He cursed to himself when he couldn't find you.

"Who're you looking for?" The girl pushed her hands onto his shoulders, messing around with his shirt.

Clark ignored her, pushing her hands off and standing to his full height. He fixed his glasses and straightened out his shirt before walking away from the table he had been sitting at and leaving the girl behind.

"What the hell?" The girl outraged, running back to her friends. He could hear her complaining about what a douchebag he was, but he didn't care about any of it.

His eyes moved around the bar, trying to find you. He was losing hope, and honestly, he was beginning to panic. He looked away for maybe 5 seconds, and he managed to lose you.

"Clark?" He heard a familiar voice, and suddenly, calm washed over him, and everything returned to normal.

When he turned around to your confused and worried face, he let out a relieved noise and wrapped his arms around you. You let out a noise in surprise when he picked you up and lifted you off the ground.

"Oh!" You wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him, "Are you okay? You looked kinda worried." You pulled away and looked into his eyes.

"'S nothing." He shook his head, "Just happy you're here." He hummed happily.

"All right," You were still confused, "I got you a shot, though. I was trying to find you, but you weren't at the table."

"Yeah..." He scratched the back of his neck, pulling away from the hug and setting you back down on the ground. "Just needed to stretch my legs." He didn't want to bring up the girl because while he might have been nice about it, you wouldn't be if you had found out.

"Huh." You nodded, raising a brow and studying him, but letting it go, "Here you go." You handed him the shot.

He shot it back, putting on a show of wincing before looking back to you, "So, do you girls think you'll be done anytime soon?"

"Why? Don't tell me you're getting tired on me, Clark." You joked, crossing your arms with a teasing smile.

"No, ma'am." He shook his head with an equally teasing smile, "Just wondering when I'm gonna have the become the chauffeur." He joked.

"Soon, probably." You reassured, glancing back at your friends who barely even noticed you were gone, "They're all sort of far gone." You could feel a buzz in your head, but you weren't fully drunk yet.

"All right, I'll wait over at that table." He pointed to a different table in the opposite corner.

"Did something happen at the other table that I should know about, Clark?" You raised a curious brow.

"No," He shook his head, "Go have fun." He kissed your head, sending you on your way back to your friends.

He took a seat on the empty stool that would give him the best view of you. People probably thought he was a creep, just sitting there and watching you, but he didn't mind.

His smile brightened when you made your way over and plopped yourself onto a stool right next to him. "Tired of dancing?" He asked.

"My feet hurt." You moaned in pain, lifting your foot up and taking off your shoes. He reached down wordlessly, lifting one of your feet into his lap and helping you take your shoe off.

"So, what happened at the other table?" You leaned your head into the palm of your hand and looked at him.

"Nothing." He shook his head.

"Clark, I know you." You tilted your head to the side, "What happened?"

He took a breath, beginning to rub your foot that was in his lap, "There was a girl." You nodded. "I ignored her, and that's why I moved tables." He shrugged.

"Okay," You nodded.

"Okay?" He looked surprised. "That's all you have to say?"

"Clark, you sat here all night watching me and my friends, and now you're rubbing my feet. I think we're pretty stuck together." You joked, leaning forward and cupping his chin, "But, I have to admit, she has good taste." He rolled his eyes.

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(if you filled out my last taglist... i'm sorry you have to fill it out again because i forgot to add the spot for usernames 😭)

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ilyasorokinn · 16 days ago

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just saw superman… that’s MY superman.

#i love him even more #taylor speaks #superman #david corenswet

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ilyasorokinn · 18 days ago