#Superman imagines

[arctickat2400]

Tornado Troubles ∞ Clark Kent

Clark Kent x F!Reader

Word Count: 1799

Disclaimer: This is not how I would react to a tornado. Actually I don’t know, since I’ve never been in direct contact with one. But in my head, I’m pretty sure I’d react differently. But this is just what I came up with and how the story played out. Hope you enjoy it!

A/N: This was a spontaneous story. Before I had written this, I hadn’t even planned to. I’ve had the idea in my notes, and another idea had popped into my head to go with it, so I was like, okay, let’s write. So I apologize if it’s not my best work. (Sorry for the dumb title too lol)

* * *

His heart began racing the second he heard the all too familiar siren. You and Clark had come to Kansas to visit Martha, which had started out well. It was always nice to see her. She was like a mother to you. Well, technically she was your mother - your mother-in-law, for that matter. But even before Clark, you’d known Martha and she had instantly become part of your family, followed by Clark (but that’s a story for another day). 

Martha was at work and there was a crime in the minute town of Smallville that had pulled Clark away from you that afternoon. You were left to your own devices and you’d decided to work on your art and listen to some music to take your mind off the fact that Clark was out dealing with some sort of danger. Yes, of course you know he’s more than capable of taking care of himself and that he’s Superman and deals with this stuff all the time, but that still doesn’t make the heaviness in your chest any less heavy when he’s not by your side.

Since no one was around, you had your music blasting to drown out your anxieties. You’d been half way through one of your drawings when you could have sworn you heard something apart from your music. However, your mind tended to play tricks on you, and even then, the music was too loud to even be sure. So you ignored it and continued with your work. 

Clark, having been flying home with a smile on his lips at the thought of seeing his love again, began to panic as he stopped mid air after having caught sight of the rotation of air and debris in the distance, passing by just outside of Smallville, right by his mother’s work, thankfully not having hit. 

Usually he wouldn’t be worried about tornadoes after having experienced several during his years in Kansas. But the tornado was, in fact, spinning straight toward the Kent Family Farm, straight toward his precious baby girl who has never experienced a tornado and who has always feared that the day would come where she would have to experience such devastation. What worried him more was that he was not with her, that she was all alone, and the tornado was coming in fast. 

Clark didn’t waste another second as he sped through the air towards his baby who, if she hasn’t heard it yet, will soon start to panic. He finally caught sight of his house and, using his x-ray vision to see inside, saw you sitting peacefully at the table only to be startled when you finally heard the sirens. Clark spotted the fear in your eyes instantly as you stepped up to the window, turned down the radio, and froze at the sight of the tornado.

You didn’t know what to do. You’d never been in this situation. You never thought you’d have to experience something like this since you live in the city. Your eyes were locked on the column of air spiraling towards you, your body frozen in place. 

“Y/N!” It wasn’t until you’d heard Clark’s booming voice that you finally snapped out of it. You watched as Clark made his way to you, tears stinging your eyes. 

“It’ll be okay, baby. Let’s go,” Clark assured you, taking your hand in his, his warmth providing the smallest bit of comfort in this terrifying moment. The phone rang as you hurried through the halls. Clark figured it was Martha calling to see if everything was alright, but there was no time. He had to get you to safety. 

Clark led you out of the house and towards the storm cellar, the wind whipping your hair around, blinding your view of where you were going. Luckily, you had Clark to lead you, but halfway there, you made the mistake of looking back, only to be met with the colossal tornado looming over you. You froze once again as Clark went to open the doors to the storm cellar, but even when he’d called out to you, you found yourself unable to move despite the swirling column coming closer and closer. 

Clark was quick to get to you, picking up your terrified body, holding you to his chest, your eyes locked on the tornado above as he rushed you underground, the doors slamming behind you. He sat on the old couch that was kept there for this exact situation, holding your trembling body on his lap. You clung onto him as he pulled his cape out from behind him and wrapped it around you before wrapping his own arms around you for extra protection, holding you close and rocking you soothingly in his arms. 

The sudden thunderous sounds of the tornado shredding through the surface above made you jump, tears streaming down your cheeks, causing Clark to hold you that much tighter.

“Shh, it’s okay, my love. Everything will be alright. You’re safe with me,” Clark comforted you, his fingers brushing through your hair as an act to calm you. You hid your face beneath his cape, against his chest, your mind telling you that you’d be safer there. 

It had felt like hours but was only minutes before Clark had told you it was finally safe to go outside. If it had been anyone else, you wouldn’t have trusted their judgment. But Clark’s enhanced abilities provided you with the utmost comfort that always allowed you to feel as safe as ever (since he was able to sense what was and wasn’t going on outside). 

Slowly, you lifted your head from Clark’s chest, coming out from your red silk hiding spot as Clark’s protective hold on you just barely loosened. He looked down at your red, flushed features to gauge your reaction as you looked at your surroundings. 

“Are you okay, sweetheart? It’s over now. We’re okay,” Clark vowed softly as he lifted his hand to your cheek to brush away the tears, tucking your hair behind your ears. You looked up, meeting his eyes, and he gave you a sweet, reassuring smile. You nodded hesitantly in acknowledgment as Clark placed a loving kiss to your forehead.

Unwrapping his cape from around you, Clark kept you in his arms as you clung to him, standing and making his way up and out of the cellar. You whimpered as you watched the tornado continue its path away from the farm, away to destroy whatever else it could find. Then, you felt the hitch in Clark’s throat, causing you to pull away slightly to see the damage behind you - the Kent's home was destroyed. 

It was Clark’s turn to freeze in place. You dropped from his arms and turned to face the only home that Clark had ever known as a gasp escaped from your throat. Of course, he still has his apartment with you in Metropolis to go back to, but it’s his childhood home. And Martha, what about her? She’s going to be devastated. You turned back toward Clark, his body motionless, his face expressionless as he stared up at his house, or what was left of it.

 “Clark, I’m so sorry,” You didn’t know what to say. What could someone possibly say to make this better? You pulled him back into your arms, making it your turn to comfort him. His arms wrapped around your waist, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. Clark finally came to his senses, though, the senses he’d been accustomed to since he became Superman, the need to make sure everyone else is okay.

“I’m just glad you’re okay, darling. Just the thought of you having to go through that alone made me come home that much faster to get to you. I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you, my sweet girl,” Clark professed. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. His house was gone and he was worried about you?

You pulled back to look him in the eyes, placing your hands on either side of his face, his hands on either side of your waist. “But, Clark, your home, it’s…” But you couldn’t finish when you both turned at the sound of a horn, the horn of the Kent’s truck. Martha was driving down the road towards the farm. But Clark wasn’t done with your conversation yet.

He guided his hand to hold yours against his cheek, gaining your attention back, your eyes locking with his as he rubbed his thumb soothingly over the back of your hand. “You’re my home, baby. This is just a house,” He gestured to his childhood house. “But you, my darling, I couldn’t live if something had happened to you. But you’re okay. We’re all okay, and that’s all that matters to me,” Clark declared, his eyes showing the immense love and adoration he felt for you. A smile lifted your lips as your forehead met with his, finally letting out the breath you’d been holding, knowing now that everything was going to be okay. 

“Are you guys okay?” Martha’s worried voice rang out after the sound of the truck door slammed closed. You both turned to her, Clark offering an encouraging smile to her.

“We’re okay, Ma,” Clark spoke first.

“Martha, I’m so sorry about your house,” You replied. You couldn’t even begin to imagine what Martha could be feeling after seeing the devastation that was her home. You met her in the middle and pulled her into a hug. It was the most motherly hug you’ve felt in a very long time. Clark had come up behind you, placing a comforting hand on your waist. Martha had noticed and pulled him into a hug of their own. 

“Oh, my boy,” Martha smiled, thankful that her son was okay, tears threatening to spill at the thought of almost losing the only family she had left. Unusual because Martha was not one to get emotional. She’s such a strong, independent woman, someone you looked up to. 

“It’s okay, Ma. You know it’ll take more than a tornado to take me down,” Clark joked in an attempt to make his mother feel better. 

“Yes, but not this one here,” Martha smiled pointedly at you, placing her hand gently against your cheek as you hold it there with a smile, her other hand holding onto Clark. “I’m just glad you both are okay,” She added.

“I’d never let anything happen to my girl,” Clark smiled at you, taking your hand and pulling you into his arms. That was what you loved about the Kent Family - it didn’t matter if they didn’t have much in the matter of the material things. As long as they had each other, they would be okay. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Relationship headcanons for Slade Wilson & Clark Kent with gn s/o?

I kinda got carried away with the Clark relationship head-cannons that I forgot that you also wanted Slade…oops. 🦦

Baby girl

Malewife

Certified himbo

Golden retriever energy!

Heart of gold, dumb of ass-

Okay I’ll stop but you get the gist, this man would honest to god, worship you. Look me in the eyes and tell me that he wouldn’t cuz we all know he would.

No thoughts, head empty; just full of ways where he could love on you.

He’s a cutie! And he probably trips over or unintentionally hurts himself because he can’t help but admire you and all of your handsomeness/beauty/gorgeousness.

Hell I bet before you two were dating Clark’s confession must’ve been the most sweetest, heartfelt, and the most adorkable thing ever.

He would probably be on the fence whether or not in telling you he’s Superman because he doesn’t want to put you in any sort of danger but then again being in a romantic relationship with him was already putting you in danger; so he would probably have to sit you down for that conversation, hold your hands within his bigger ones and pray that you understood his reasoning behind the secrecy.

His love languages have got to be one or all of the following;

words of affirmation: he will call you any and every endearing word in the dictionary even if you were only just getting up to start your day. He’s your hype man in every sense of a word and will not allow you to be harsh or look down on yourself. He’s not having it, so he won’t hear it because how can you not see yourself the way he sees you?

To Clark, your phenomenal, exceptional, extraordinary, amazing, incredible, excellent, talented, fantastic, handsome, beautiful, charming, gorgeous and above all else; you. That’s all he wants you to be. Yourself.

acts of service: as I said before Clark lives to serve and with that I’d like to think of him taking on chores that he knows you don’t particularly like doing just so he could relieve the stress of having to do it off of your shoulders. He’d also attempt to make breakfast, but your better off helping him so he doesn’t accidentally breaks the handle off of any appliance you have at your disposal by unintentionally using excessive force.

Clark would do stuff that would be considered small to other people such as leaving out clothes you found most comfort in, neatly folded in your dresser, or bending down to help you in tying your shoes, but to you they were the biggest expressions of love one could ever experience.

Physical touch: this man is a cuddle bug and no one can tell me otherwise. Oh yeah don’t get me wrong but just because he’s stronger then the average man don’t mean he ain’t gonna hold you tight against him -though not too tight- and still be extremely cautious of the usage of his strength. he doesn’t wanna hurt you in any capacity at all. He’s so, so gentle and frequently worried about the consequences that would come if he didn’t handle you with enough care.

Hand holding is a staple in your relationship.

He’s a big spoon and a little spoon in terms of cuddling because he wants to feel as though he’s protecting you in your most vulnerable form and also wants to be comforted by you as he lays his head on your chest. It’s almost a comical sight, you spooning this Greek god of a man but it’s such a sweet and tender moment between the two of you finding comfort in each others presence and being able to be your most vulnerable with them that it completely negates all of that.

back hugs in the morning from either you or Clark because I just adore the idea of this man coming up behind you and hugging you with his strong arms caging you at the waist as his head is buried into your neck as he whispers you a good morning. I also adore the idea of you just going up behind him and hugging him as tightly as you could, not knowing that you couldn’t possibly hurt him physically even if you tried.

Quality time: while unfortunately yes, being Superman is a full time thing. That don’t mean Clark wouldn’t at least attempt in making time just for the both of you and besides you found his deep rooted want to help anyone and everyone extremely endearing and admirable; but sometimes he does need to be reminded that not everyone wants to be saved despite how difficult that maybe for him to understand. But that doesn’t mean he won’t stop trying to help. It’s the one thing no one can change about Clark.

So when you two do get some time together it’s pretty much just spent doing whatever it is that you two like to do together like watch a movie, read books, etc or separate whilst still being within the same room as one another in a comfortable silence. Clark is trying to make up for lost time but it’s the fact that he’s trying is all that matters to you.

Plz hold his face in your hands and squish his cheeks! Plz. He will melt into your hold as he brings his bigger hands up to hold against yours his face as he closes his eyes and visibly relaxes. Precious bean deserves to be pampered with love and affection.

You’d defiantly be stealing his cozy beige/cream coloured jumper. You loved how it made your hulking boyfriend look like the epitome of soft, so of course when he’s away you immediately sift through his things and pull the jumper over your body, where for the rest of the day you would be doing stuff in your shared home whilst in his clothes that were *probably* way too big for you and that you had to face the continuous task of having to push up the sleeves constantly so that they wouldn’t get in the way.

So when Clark comes home and sees you wearing his cozy little jumper, he’s utterly enamoured as though it was the first time he’s seeing you all over again. It’s cute and the soft sappy expression on his face will forever and always melt your heart; his soft blue eyes staring at you adoringly like you were the one to have painted the stars in the sky, the slight blush upon his pinch-able cheeks, and the dopey smile upon his pretty lips.

‘Something catch your eye handsome?’ You’d say one day upon catching him gawking at you from the doorway, taking great pleasure in watching him squirm and stumble over his words as he tries to justify his staring without it coming across as creepy. ‘I wasn’t- I’m sorry-‘ you didn’t let him continue as you walked over to him and moved your arms to hold his face in your hands, your thumbs running across his warm cheeks that only seemed to grow warmer beneath your touch.

‘It’s okay, I know you didn’t mean anything weird or creepy by it. I’m just teasing you, you know I love it when you look at me because when you look at me…I feel more seen then I ever have with anyone else.’ You admitted to him, pressing your head into his tits chest, ‘so please don’t stop looking at me in that way for it reminds me that this is real and not some fever dream.’

[mvchmp]

i watch superman fly away

maws superman x reader

SUMMARY - reader has an encounter with metropolis's superhero

| fluff (?)

inspired by Taylor Swift - Superman (Taylor's Version)

I exited the coffee shop with my usual order in my hand, the other clutched on a folder which contained work documents. I had sneaked out of my shift to have a quick run to my favorite coffee shop.

Everything was just so stressing and things at home weren’t exactly the best so I rose from my bed having a concerning amount of sleep. A small trip to this shop helped me ease down at least a bit. 

I turned right to go back to our company’s building but unfortunately bumped into someone who was running, knocking the folders off my hand and my coffee spilling on my work uniform. “Sorry, miss!” I heard the young man scream while he was running away. I sigh, trying to understand that he might have been in a hurry and let him go.

I kneel down to grab my papers but instead was met with a familiar face. He was already gathering my papers, careful not to accidentally get one of them crumpled. 

I was too stunned to let the scene sink into me. Superman was in front of me. Inches away from me. I gulped and studied his face, his hair, his body, his hands as he collected the papers.

I stared at him, not realizing he was already talking to me. “Miss? Miss, are you okay? Hello?” He looked into my eyes. “Oh, uh, yeah. Yeah, I am.” I replied, chuckling awkwardly and standing up, along with him.

He put all the papers back in the folder and put it forward. I was about to receive it and say thanks, to go back on my way after thanking him, but I was surprised when I didn’t feel the folder touch my hands. “Oh, no. You spilled your coffee. I am very sorry, let me um get you a new one?” He spoke, not leaving much time for me to say yes or no.

Superman pulled me back into the coffee shop and asked me for what I wanted. I answered him and watched him repeat what I said to the barista. 

I looked around, noticing the people had gone silent. Of course, they would. Superman, the famous hero, was in the same coffee shop as them, buying coffee for a girl. 

I looked back at him when he placed the coffee in my hands. Getting my senses back, I told him, “Thank you, Superman. You really didn’t have to. I’m sure the city needs your help right now.” I noticed his cheeks tint a bright soft red, his hand going up to his nape, rubbing the area. “No worries, I guess I’m just doing my best to help around the city, and the people of course. Which includes you.” He said, the tint growing on his face. I giggled at the sight.

He’s cute, I’ll give him that. And by cute, I mean adorable.

“Anyways, thank you for this. I’ll get going now.” I told him with a smile on my face. What he said after me left my cheeks turning pink now. “But your clothes have coffee stains. Wait here, I’ll grab you something to change into-” I cut him off quickly, realizing he’d done so much for me and I can’t bother him any longer. Other civilians might need his help more than I do right now, so I let him off. 

“You don’t have to, I have a spare in my bag. I appreciate the help, Superman, but really, you should go help in the city now.” I tell him, a gentle smile spread on my face.

“Okay, but at least let me escort you to your job?” He offered, the heat on his face re-growing. “Just to make sure you don’t get run into again, haha. Can’t risk your coffee spilling again, right?” he added. I let out a small giggle and agreed on the offer. 

A comfortable silence surrounded us as he walked me to the entrance of the building. It wasn’t usual for me to step foot on its grounds with someone since I didn’t really have anyone to drop me off or go to work with. The feeling was definitely new. I mean, of course it is. The Superman just accompanied me back to work so obviously everyone would be staring – another new thing for me.

I turned to him, his hand was once again rubbing his nape. “Thank you, for everything.” I thanked him with the same smile on my face. The same smile I had on my face as I took quick glances of him while walking down the sidewalks. 

“Anytime, miss.” He smiled back before flying to soar in the sky. I watched Superman fly away.

I watch superman fly away You've got a busy day today Go save the world, I'll be around

A/N hes so fucking adorable and theres not many fics of him yet so i decided to take matters into my own hands and made one

[random-imagines-blog]

Imagine being a powerful sorceress and bewitching Superman during a battle.

Despite the fact that it felt like you were losing the battle, you weren’t giving up on victory. You had your eyes set on getting what you came here for, whether the Justice League were okay with that or not. They just decided to go with the hard way. “Blockbuster, deal with the Batman,” I said, to the large man on one side of me. “Rose, make sushi with the Aquaman, Nightshade, see to it that the Flash keeps running in the dark. Big boy is for me.” The ‘big man’ in question was Superman. You only had to get him to look into your eyes, and you would have him under your spell. It was all up to you, since he was the most powerful one in the group, the one that might actually have a chance to stop you. You stepped out into the light, though shadows followed you, thanks to Nightshade. They danced around your body, your face, basically leading Superman’s eyes … right to yours. The set look of determination, the tenseness of his jaw, it all fell, turning his expression into something bashful, almost cute with the upturned lips and the soft sigh of admiration that he gave you. He was hooked. He was spellbound. He was yours. He flew down to meet you, his feet touching the ground mere inches away from you. He looked at you like a lover that he had been missing. He looked at you like you just got off an airplane, after having left him for six months, and absence had not only made the heart grow fonder, but bigger, desperate. He was just waiting for a word from you to make him feel complete. “Hi honey,” You said, sauntering towards him. Even though you knew that this was all fake, that it was your magic sending signals through to his brains, his nerves, it still never failed to get you excited on how you could make these men look at you. Obey you. It was a power trip that violence never could fully give you. He breathed in, like he hadn’t expected you to call on him, like he was just picked for The Price is Right or something. Honey - you called him honey, and now he looked just as sweet as it. “Hi,” He said, voice shaky. He even rubbed the back of his neck as he smiled at you, like a nervous teenage boy. “There’s something in the vault that I need, desperately, honey,” You said, keeping the eye contact with him, that blue rivaling the Ocean. “And I need your help to get it. It would make me incredibly happy, please?” You pouted, lower lip sticking out, and he swallowed his drool roughly upon seeing it. “Glad to help,” He nodded, holding his cape over you to protect you from any stray bullets or debris flying your way from the other fights, and lead you straight into the vault to get the magical artifact that you needed. He melted faster than butter for you, and oh, you had it in your mind that you were going to keep this one.

Requested by: Anonymous

[iguana-eyanna]

What's In Front Of Us

Pairing: Clark Kent x plus size! reader

Warning: Mentions of bullying

Summary: For once in his life, Clark never felt so speechless until he saw you in blue.

a/n: loosely based on the song You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift

The bell school rang, alerting the students it was dismissal. Everyone flooded the hallways as well as you. You walked up to your locker, unlocking it as you got the books you needed. When you close it, a familiar face looks at you, smiling.

"Did the birthday girl had a good day?" Clark Kent, your best friend since childhood, asked you.

"It was fantastic." you said sarcastically, then bursting into a fit of laughter as Clark joined too.

"I wanted to sleep in World Geography so bad." You said, almost putting your books inside of your bag.

"Yeah, I felt the same for Chemistry." Clark said, already grabbing your books and carrying it for you.

You never minded Clark helping you, besides, you want to use his super strength for good use.

You two were inseparable growing up. You were basically at the Kent Farm all of your childhood and often referred to you as their second child.

"Also, birthday girl gets to drive." You smirked, flashing your new car keys to Clark. He smiled at you, knowing that you've pleaded your dad to drive and he gave you his old pick up truck. You both walked to the parking lot, and see the popular girls whispering at you as you get in the old pick up truck. You never knew why they disliked you so much, but you never paid attention to their sneers. Clark always admired that about you, that nothing tore you down.

"Anyways, I was thinking we could study for a bit at the coffee shop and I'll drop you home." You said to Clark as you drove out of campus.

"Sure, my parents will be relieved that I'm actually getting help with this class. They're more proud of your grades than mine." He joked.

"I have that effect on other people's parents. You have your powers and I have mine." You joked as Clark chuckled.

Soon, you drove to where you guys were headed and walked side by side inside the Talon. You then ordered what you wanted and sat down, just going over some things for your Chem homework.

You were still talking about some formulas and you look up to see Clark glancing elsewhere.

You follow his gaze and see he was staring at Lana Lane. It was like she popped out of those teen rom-com scenes where the guy is staring at his love interest. You roll your eyes, muttering 'typical' as you return to your notes.

"What?" He says, turning to you obliviously.

"You have super hearing and you didn't hear me?" You question.

"Who has super hearing?" Lana asks as she came up to your table.

You and Clark turn to her like deers in headlights. Clark coughs in his hand as you try stammering out.

"Oh, I was... just teasing how Kent prides in his hearing but he wasn't listening about our homework." You said.

Lana politely smiles as she looks at Clark flirtatiously.

"Better start studying Clark. You don't want to be grounded on prom night for slacking school." She said, picking up his empty drink and went to the back.

You had nothing against Lana. She was nice to you compared to the other girls in school. But you felt a pang of jealousy that Clark started to notice her more often. He thought he was weak in the knees for her, but soon found out the kryptonite necklace she wore made Clark ill. (Maybe you were a bit appeased by this, but you would never tell Clark that.)

Clark looks at her till she leaves his sight and immediately looks down to his textbook, reading the chapter.

"Really? I've been helping you for a whole week and it takes Lane two seconds for you to study?" You asked, feeling a bit upset.

Clark looks up to you, feeling bad. "I'm sorry, you know how I get flustered."

"Yeah..." you muttered again before reading to yourself.

"Hey, someone's a bit grumpy. Is it because I didn't give you your birthday present?" Clark asks, smirking.

"Clark, I told you, I don't like being spoiled." You said. Of course, you appreciate the Kents for taking care of you, especially since your dad is still mourning the loss of your mom.

"Hey, you're my best friend. I want to show how lucky I am that you're cool with me being an alien and all." You snicker at his comment, he never failed to make you laugh.

"Okay, Kent. Give me my present." You said in a sassy tone.

Clark smiles and dugs inside of his signature red jacket and hands you a present that looked like it was wrapped by a toddler. (You'd think he'd use his speed to be useful but oh well) You open it and you stare down at a silver bracelet that had a charm with the first letter of your name.

"Clark... I can't- accept this." You said, feeling a bit choked.

"Hey, yes, you should. I just remembered that you've always wanted to have a bracelet like your mom so I tried to find the closest thing like in the pictures." He said.

You form a smile as you wipe your tears.

"Thank you." You whispered, you said, fumbling to try to place it around your wrist.

Clark saw you were struggling a bit so he takes the bracelet and helps you put it on.

He gently holds your hand up and you both admire the twinkle it shows under the lights.

"It's beautiful." you said, looking down.

"Yeah, it is." he whispers under his breath.

You two retract your hands, feeling a bit flustered.

"Um... let's just go back to work." you whispered, staring back at your textbook.

Clark didn't say anything except smile at you and continued on with his studies, happy that he gets to be with you.

Soon, you drove him back home and see that his parents were out as Jonathan was getting off the tractor and Martha coming out of the house.

"Hey you two! How was studying?" Martha asks.

"It was good, Clark listens to me better than the teacher." You joked, making Clark roll his eyes playfully.

"Well, I'm glad that you're teaching him, he's always got his head in the clouds." Jonathan said, messing Clark's hair making his son smile.

"Why don't you stay for dinner? I don't think muffins and coffee is a proper meal for this time, especially not on your birthday." Martha asks you.

"I really don't want to intrude." You said, knowing Mrs. Kent won't take no for an answer.

"She did make you your favorite." Jonathan hints, giving you a warm smile.

"Well, I guess can't pass up on a good meal." You joked as Martha hugs as you walks you into the house.

All of you started to eat and shared your day, laughing and enjoying each other's company. After dinner, Clark walked you to your car and opened your door.

"Hey so, I haven't heard any plans from you for prom." Clark asks as it was near the date.

"I wasn't initially going, but my aunt sent me a dress she made herself to surprise me. Said every beautiful girl deserves a beautiful dress." you said.

Clark comes closer to you, leaning on your open window.

"I didn't know what you were up to, so I was wondering if you wanted to go together?" Clark suggested.

You look at him surprised. you knew he didn't want to go to prom all together, unless he asked Lana, but he hasn't even asked her. You assume that she already has a date. You're about to tell him that you didn't want to be a second choice but his eyes gave you this look.

"You know you're the only one for me... so what do you say? I'll buy you a corsage to match that bracelet of yours."

In that moment, something in you just sparked.

"Well... flowers do sound nice." you said.

Clark shone his signature smile and straightened up.

"Great! I'll pick you up at your house, 8 o'clock sharp!" He said as he jogs to his door.

You couldn't help but shake your head as you started your car.

Prom would be one night to remember.

As the night came, Clark was trying to make a bowtie but kept on failing. Jonathan saw his son and walked in his room.

"Getting nervous there son?" he asks, leaning by the door frame.

Clark looks at his dad and looks down to his unfinished tie.

"It's just a dance." Clark said.

Jonathan laughs his head as he goes up to Clark, already fixing his tie.

"It's not just an ordinary dance, especially for you two lovebirds." His dad joked.

Clark rolls his eyes, as his parents often paired you and Clark since you two met.

"Dad...." Clark warned.

"I'm just saying son, it takes a long time for us Kent men to realize what's in front of us. That's all I can say." Jonathan said.

He finished the tie and patted Clark on the shoulder, implying that he was finally done. The two share a grateful look at each other and walked out to the car. Martha joins as she brought a polaroid, wishing to get pictures before you two head to the school.

When they arrive to your house, Clark takes a deep breath and knocks on the door.

He then sees your dad who looked very bright.

"Clark! Come in, she should be coming down by now. Started getting ready since noon!" He says. Clark's parents go up to your dad and talk while Clark was staring at the staircase, trying not to burn it.

He then did a double take as he finally saw you as you walked out of your room as you were walking down the stairs. You wore this dark blue off-the-shoulder dress with a high slit on your left leg. He was stunned as your hair and makeup were professionally done. What made his heart flutter was the bracelet he gave you.

Martha gasps as she places a hand on her chest.

"Darling, you look beautiful! Clark, tell her she looks beautiful!" She said.

"Thank you Mrs. Kent." you said, staring at her.

You then look at Clark, slightly squirming in your dress that felt hot.

Clark could tell that you were waiting for a response. But there were so many words in the english language for him to describe you: exquisite, stunning, angelic... his breath was taken away.

All he could do was gulp, and offer you your corsage.

"This is... for you." he mustered the courage to say.

You decided not to let Clark make a fool of himself and walked up to him as he placed it around your wrist, feeling the same vibrations when he placed your bracelet on for the first time.

You two smiled at each other and looked up when you see a flash. Martha took a picture and orders you to pose with each other. Clark and you take pictures and tell your parents that it's time to head out. They wave you goodbye as Clark drove you to the dance.

The ride was silent, as the two of you sat awkwardly to school.

"Sooo..." You muttered.

"Sooo..." Clark replied.

You've grown a bit unsteady, and Clark could sense too. You're heart was thumping faster than a speeding bullet.

Clark gives you a glance and looks back on the road.

"Your dad seemed happy."

You smile as you look out the window.

"Yeah, he said that today reminded him of his first date with mom on their prom night. Brought back some good memories."

Clark smiled. You and your dad have been so estranged for so long, but was happy that you two found some inner peace.

"I'm not great with, talking about things... but I want us to have a fun night together, with you." You look at him and give him a smile.

"I'd love nothing more."

As you parked in the school's parking lot, Clark helped you down his car and held your hand. He held it tight, reassuring you that he wouldn't leave your side. You both took a deep breath and walked into the prom together.

Luckily you went during the rush, hiding among plain sight among the numerous teens. The night went without a hitch, you two were having a great time laughing and dancing.

Then it came the slow dance.

You and Clark looked at each other awkwardly.

"We can sit down if you want." You say, already crossing your arms as you felt too conscious.

"I was hoping we'd dance if you like." he says, stepping forward to you.

You look up to him, eyes doe like as you took a silent gulp. You slowly wrap your hands behind Clark's neck as he placed his hands on your waist.

You two don't break eye contact as the lights dimmed and the music filled your ears. You two slowly closed with each other, not saying a word. You lay your head on his chest as he held you tighter once more. Clark felt like he was floating in midair, wanting to hold you as long as he can.

He got lost in thought till he heard your voice.

"Clark?" you ask.

He looks down at you, your eyes shining like stars.

"They're staring at us." you said, uneasy.

He looks around and sees his peers, even hearing the smallest of whispers around you.

"Don't pay attention to them, they're just jerks." He says.

"What are they saying?" you ask.

"Nothing, they're all jealous that I get to dance with the most gorgeous girl in the room."

"I don't think i believe that... You sure you don't want to dance with a prettier girl like Lana?" You ask, stopping your dance.

"I don't want to dance with her, I want to dance with you." He says, firming his voice.

The insecurities start building in your chest and you let go of him.

"I'm sorry, I can't." You said, already running away with tears in your eyes.

He calls you by your name but you can't look back, not when you were feeling like a fool.

You go straight to the bathroom, holding onto the sink as you cried more, ruining some of your makeup.

It was stupid, stupid to think that you could have a chance with Clark. You guys have been friends your entire lives, he'll never view you as something more.

You whip your head up and hear some laughter. Lana was the first girl you saw and she looked so happy. She then saw you and saw her features soften.

"Hey, I'm just going to take a bit, you can go." she said to her friends.

She goes straight to the paper towel roller and took a piece. She walks right up to you.

"May I?" she asks, lifting up the napkin.

You were shocked, but you straighten up and allowed her to wipe off the mascara down your checks.

"Whoever told us that prom is the best night of your life is utter crap." she said.

You couldn't help but laugh.

"Yeah, i'm just counting down the days till I leave for college." you said, feeling a bit better.

Once she was done, she threw the trash and gave you a comforting smile.

"You look beautiful, you and Clark must be having a good time." She said.

You frown a bit before you lean by the sink.

"I'm kind of avoiding him right now." You said in a low tone, crossing your arms.

Lana looks upset. "If he said anything I swear I'll bring him hell." She said in a serious tone.

You laugh, as you know she'd fight for you.

“Clark is fine, it’s just… the people around us stare at me like I came out of a circus.” You said.

“Hey, don’t think that. In ten years, they’ll be wasting away in some bar or regretting having three kids who are under five. You? You’re going to graduate top of our class and go out into the world, doing greater things. They’ll regret ever saying one bad thing about you.” Lana said, placing a comforting hand by your arm.

You hugged her tight, trying not to cry.

“Thanks Lana, you don’t know how much that means to me.”

She rubs your back and looks at you, beaming that you’re feeling better.

“If I’m not mistaken, I believe you need to finish a dance with your date.” Lana states.

You take one deep breath and you two walk out hand in hand.

What you didn’t expect was Clark sitting by the staircase, straightening up when he sees you.

You look at Lana and give her a smile, implying that you’re able to take care of yourself. She gives you one last hug and says goodbye before heading to the dance.

You and Clark stand next to each other, in uncomfortable silence.

You two speak at the same time, always interrupting when one tried to give the other the floor.

Clark gestures you to speak.

"Do you wanna get out of here?" you ask.

Clark sighs in relief.

"I thought you'd never ask. I wanted to show you something if you want to follow me." He said.

You hesitate for a moment, but you give your hand to him. You two walk to the car and Clark drives you out of the school. You were confused about when Clark takes you to his barn and gets out quickly, wanting to surprise you with something. He returns back with lightning speed, grinning as he hopes to win you back.

"I think you're going to like this." He said.

When he tells you to come upstairs, you were in awe. He decorated the place with his white Christmas lights to illuminate the inside as you two saw the starry sky.

"Thought this would make up for tonight," he says as he walks up to the radio with a cd player and played a slow song.

Clark turns around and admires you standing there. He takes a few steps forward and holds you closer to him as you swayed to the music.

"I never got to say how breathtaking you look tonight. Guess I got too nervous to say it," he says.

You chuckle as you look up at him.

"Well, if that's your apology, I forgive you." You said.

You're thankful for Clark doing all of this. You were a very private person, so sharing this intimate night with each other in a comfortable place made you feel more confident.

You lean on Clark's chest, hearing his fast heartbeat. Clark holds you closer, never wanting to let you go.

That's when he realized his dad's words from earlier.

"I'm so stupid." He mutters to himself.

"What?" You ask.

Clark gulps as he realized he was thinking out loud and stops dancing.

"I'm an idiot."

"I think I need more context than that." You joke.

He rolls his eyes and held your hands firmly, staring into your eyes.

"I've been feeling so lost and nervous, my throat would dry and I forget the words that I want to say. But when I saw you walking down those steps, everything became so clear. I-I... want to protect you, I want to take you out of this town and show the world because you deserve every second of someone loving you and..."

His face inches to your lips.

"I want to be that person that loves you."

Your mind is racing and your heart might as well be jumping out of your chest. Clark could sense the uneasiness as you couldn't reply.

He begins to slip away from your touch, about to turn around "Maybe it's late, I'll take you hom-"

"Wait." You said.

You spin him back to you and without a beat passing, you kissed his lips. Clark's hands lay flat on your back as your heartbeats align. You two felt like you were levitating.

You two break apart, smiling wildly.

"I always wanted to do that," you whispered.

Clark could only chuckle as he shakes his head, as you always made him laugh.

"I thought the same thing." He said.

You two kissed again as the world around you blurred like an unfocused camera. But both of you knew you could capture this night like a picture: forever still in the moment.

[makismei]

❝ YOU A SUPERMAN? OR… A MINUTE MAN?

♡ fem!reader x various

featuring…. gojo satoru, nanami kento & fushiguro toji

cw: 18+, minors dni, squirting, overstim, unprotected sex, dacryphilia, anal play (nanami)

synopsis: who’s pounding till the sun rises and who’s clocking out after one round?!

notes from mei! tbh the title doesn’t really make sense… i listened to mcnasty(?) by jay park when it came out a while back and that lyric really resounded in my soul

GOJO ♡ a quick shot. but his dick stays hard. pretty superman-esque if you ask me.

“you idiot—fuuuck, stop moving your hips!” the sound of both of your cum sloshing together rings in your ears. you’re pushing at his tummy, quivering legs haphazardly thrown over his shoulders and tears bubbling in your lash line.

it feels so full inside of you. you’ve both been going at it for god knows how long; his release smeared on your lower tummy and inner thighs.

satoru moves your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours as he starts to press weight into each thrust.

“ahh, mmaahhh!” head shaking back and forth on the pillow, “‘m gonna cum! i can’t—satoru, m’ gonna die!”

he’s practically whining, ignoring your pleas with sweat beading down his temple as he plows you relentlessly. “baby, i can’t hold out.”

his head’s thrown back, feeling his dick twitch whenever he kisses your cervix just right, eyes rolling back into his skull.

“y’feel so good baby, why do you feel so good?” he pants, not realizing he’s filling you up with hot ropes of cum. he’s still thrusting and you swear if he keeps this up your bottom half is going to be numb.

still absolutely rock hard inside of you, he turns you on your side, one leg still on his shoulder while he grinds against that one spot that renders you speechless.

“let me have one more, baby.” he whines, legs shaking, “‘m still so hard f’you.”

NANAMI ♡ depends. he’s good at holding himself off, but he also enjoys stuffing you with multiple loads of his cum.

he’s groaning, eyes lidded as he watches you align his cock with your leaky slit. globs of his cum seep from your pussy, soiling his faintly coloured pubic hairs. someway, somehow, you managed to flip your previous positions and he’s the one laying on the mattress instead of you.

“my love,” he breathes, his large hand; callused from his work but still so gentle, caresses your hip, “i’m not going anywhere.”

it’s as if you’re in a rush, scrambling like he’s going to disappear.

you whine, legs quivering when his tip swipes against your entrance. “please, nami, i want you to cum again… it feels s’good.”

he smiles, his other hand reaching out to hold your face, thumb gently stroking against your cheek. “so needy today… have i been neglecting you?”

leaning down, you bury your face into his neck, grinding your soaked pussy onto his hardening cock. you hum shyly, distracting yourself by leaving wet kisses on his neck and shoulder.

he hums, your shyness making him all smug and sappy. “so that’s what it is, huh?”

you feel him harden, before he’s lifting you and dropping you down on his cock. you tense, squealing into his shoulder. languidly, he’s making you fuck down onto him, his own hips jolting up to meet you halfway.

sneakily, a hand makes it’s way down to your ass. he swats playfully before gathering slick at the point where you’re both connected. surprised, your eyes widen when you feel his finger start playing with your rim. it’s gentle, soft massaging as he’s jackhammering into you.

with your legs shaking, he doesn’t bother trying to move your hips, simply doing the work for you.

you’re gushing, liquid drooling from your pusey before you force yourself off of him, practically screaming as you squirt all over his lap. nanami groans, pulling you back down onto him to chase his release.

“oh my god—oh, fuuucckk!!” nails digging into his skin, your eyes roll back from the onslaught of pleasure. “‘s shoo gooood!”

he chuckles in your ear, but it gets cut off with a moan, flooding your cunt with his seed. kissing your tear-soaked cheeks, he smiles against your skin. “still feeling neglected, baby?”

TOJI ♡ one round and he’s hooonkkk mimimi… but he’s fucks nawwstyyy. like. he fucks you so good one round has you nearly passed out and quivering—drool and tears all over the pillow and your squirt leaving a niceee puddle right underneath you.

“that’s right, doll.” he whistles lowly, watching your legs tense, knees lifting themselves off the bed as he continues to bury his fingers into your cunt, his pupils practically dilating as he continuously prods against your sweet spot.

it’s wet and sticky between your legs, pussy glistening under the cheap glow of your bedside night light.

you’re damn near in a downward dog, face smushed into the mattress as your squirt soaks the bed. toji doesn’t let up, toying with your clit as he grins, cock twitching in his boxers.

when you slump face first into the bed, you’re practically drooling as you know what’s coming next. sturdy, thickset fingers knead the globes of your ass, before you feel his heavy cock sneaking it’s way into your slit.

“look at you,” he jeers, leaky tip pressing into your cunt. “being such a sweetheart after i made you squirt a few times.”

he buries himself to the hilt and you think you’re going cross-eyed. “yeah,” he croons, hips finding rhythm and bouncing on the fat of your ass, “you just wanna cum, ain’t that right?”

“yeesshh!” you cry. this position allows him too much control. you’re flat on your stomach, barely holding yourself up from your elbows. toji bares his weight on you, practically humping you and you know, he’s about to cum.

his tip kisses your g-spot repeatedly, scarred lips leaving wet kisses on your shoulder. “‘m gonna cum, baby,” he breathes, “you’ll take it, won’t’cha?”

you nod, eyes teary, “mmhm!”

you feel his lips against your skin, grinning. “cum with me baby, c’mon. you got it.”

as if his words have magic, he thrusts a couple more times before he feels you squeeze, and he’s a goner. groaning, he has a feeling you’re squirting again while he’s shooting rope after rope inside of you. he’s dizzy, practically blacking out after he pulls out, wiping you down with his shirt that he’s mistaken for a towel.

he slumps beside you, with his eyes closed, he slings a hefty arm over your waist. you adjust as he pulls you closer, lips brushing against your scapula.

he’s snoring before you know it.

panel is from i’ve become the target of his affection ^.^

[savanir]

DP x DC prompt [9]

Danny doesn't remember much of what happened after his fight with Pariah. he knows the suit nearly killed him. 

He knew he passed out after and had to be carried back.

But considering the fact that the sky is blue and he's in his bedroom it was pretty safe to say that it was a classic case of a job well done and everything was back to normal.

The next day however, more and more oddities started happening. 

No longer did Amity Parkers get assaulted by GIW warnings when they accessed the internet. Instead they just got… nothing, nada, zilch.

Did the GIW go all in and just disconnect them from the rest of the world completely?

But then it became clear that that was the case with everything. stores weren't getting any shipments. 

phone calls would automatically say that numbers weren't in use. 

packages and mail weren't being picked up. 

Very worryingly, credit cards also stopped working and any attempt to contact the bank went utterly nowhere. 

people gradually are starting to get more and more worried.

Amity was very independent and self sufficient but this was a bit much.

At the very least now the city was more open to the doctor's Fenton energy solution of simply using Ecto to power everything.

The guys in white didn't show up in the city anymore either. 

The same went for the other out of town ghost hunters.

and after a quick check from Danny himself (as Phantom) he confirmed that the little not so very hidden base the guys in white had set up outside of the city borders was now simply gone.

Not only that but the roads going out of Amity also just suddenly stop.

At this point Team Phantom is starting to have a certain suspicion, and Sam asks Danny to find the nearest gas station and get them some newspapers.

Back home and now with a bunch of newspapers spread out over the floor with articles about Alien invasions in a place called Metropolis or the top floors of a skyscraper being blown up in a city called Gotham, they have enough to confirm their worries.

“Guys I think we got put back wrong”

[frownyalfred]

Tim/Kon being a peak ship except every few days they realize they’re acting too much like Bruce and Clark and have to ditch the relationship until they can look at each other again without flinching.

[acid-ixx]

a loving family, an unpalatable desire

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: would anyone hear me out if i ever wrote romantic yan! bruce (ft. platonic yan! batfam AND romantic yan clark kent alongside the superfam ofc) with a neglected spouse reader... because uhm, i've been thinking about it lately just yk... so anyways PLSPLSPLS send in asks about this, ive been thinking about it so much lately.

imagine wanting to raise a family so badly with a man who adopts problem children as a side hustle. you're not some invasive spouse, you've always been good, always been loving, so... so accepting, never questioned where or how he picked them up from the side of the streets, never once complaining about the hickeys on his neck or the once neat tussles of his hair now tangled accompanying lipstick stains on his white suit.

you love your children, you tell yourself all the time. you love them, you love bruce— even if he doesn't love you. you said it in your vows, despite it being scripted, despite your family finally sighing in relief in the sidelines at finally being able to sell you off to one of the wealthiest man in the world, rather than being wasting off under their care— your vows are real.

you wanted someone to love you, unconditionally, so viscerally eternal that it eats you up.

really, all you wanted was to play that fantasy life of trophy house spouses. all you wished for was a loving, healthy relationship. the american dream: the picture perfect family frames, your husband kissing you on the cheek as he leaves for work, your children bickering at the dining room, with the scent of homemade meals wafting about the vicinity. all you wanted was the warmth in your chest to flicker like candlelights. all you dreamed about was that domestic life, an escape from the abusive household you were raised in.

yet the manor is too cold, too unforgiving for a soul such as yours.

the longer you stay inside claustrophobic, yet oh-so large hallways, the quicker you drown in a neverending pool of self-hatred.

but you're not allowed to show them your sufferings. they've been through much worse, you tell yourself. they've suffered more, and as what good spouses do, as what you're taught, you stay silent, enabling them to turn you into their own emotional punching bag.

you only allow yourself to cry at the dead of the night, under the sheets of your too-cold blanket and your too-hot pillows. when the manor is filled with deathly silence and a looming sense of dread and ill fitting thoughts of ifs and when they'll come back in one piece, will you grant yourself temporary respite; worry for a family who never even called you their parent.

yet you've always been so considerate. despite the pang in your chest every time bruce flirts with anymore potential love interest at a gala, you chose to instead monitor your chaotic children, who have always never bat an eye on you despite you always gazing lovingly at them.

you know of their interests, they don't know yours, yet you still give them extravagant gifts on their birthdays, with tired, yet glinting eyes, and a silent excuse to return to your room; one separate from bruce.

you know of bruce's hardships, but you don't push too hard, don't force him to talk, only provide him your silence and an offer to serve him dinner; all the time he refuses without looking at you. you give him comfort only if he ever allows you, only if he allows his walls to crumble— but not even his spouse can amount to a warm, crackling fireplace. to him, you're probably only a matchstick under the deadbeat glaze of the snow in a winter night.

maybe that's why you're such a ghost in the manor, stalking through the hallways, looking out for any of your children in case they come across you with any injuries. maybe that's why eventually your resolve weakened.

and maybe the absence of familial love led you to find comfort in another man's arm.

''til death do us part,' is such a tragic saying in your case, because you know it in your fragile heart that bruce's love for you was never alive in the first place. and yet you allow him to play you like a fiddle, allow him to slowly allow you to slip away from his nonexistent grasp.

and now, you're a stand-in parent for clark's son, jon, after the tragic loss of his wife. now, your world seems a lot less bleaker, as you play the fantasy of a loving house spouse, fully abandoning the life you left behind, a life you've never been gifted with until now. you want to feel guilty, you want to feel absolutely terrible but the heartache of neglect has become too much and all you do was allow clark to warm you up each night, kissing away your tears and spooning your deep-seated anxieties away.

you don't let the past eat you up, not when the present is too perfect, too freeing, too delusionally beautiful.

your son, jon provides you every joy a parent could have. parent's day gifts, heartfelt letters at every nook and cranny of your shared bedroom with clark— even reading him bedtime stories, allowing him to sleep in your lap after he slowly nods off, with clark knocking softly on polished wooden doors, greeting you with a loving kiss on the lips and a bouquet of your favorite flowers in hand—

it's everything a parent wants, needs even.

and you're everything clark, and especially jon wants, needs in their life.

so it's such a stupid mistake, really. a slip of the tongue, a too-enthusiastic smile, incredibly bright, shining eyes. it's not jon's fault, you still love him either way. but it's an error still— one a complicated matter at hand, so dreadful for you, that jon accidentally, all-too-suddenly, mentions you as his parent to damian.

a loving, wonderful parent, he says, with a picture of you in his wallet shoved right in front of his friend's face.

[p1nkshield]

Bruce: Robin, this is Superman

Clark: hello! it’s a pleasure to meet-

Robin!Dick: Can you throw me?

Clark: I’m sorry what?

Robin!Dick: I said can you throw me with all your strength into the sky!

Clark: No?!? Why?!? You would die!

Robin!Dick: I won’t die I’m built different!!!! Throw me!! I wanna taste the clouds and see how many flips I can do!!

Bruce: *long dad sigh*

Clark: clouds just taste like water!

Robin!Dick: Sounds like something someone might say if they wanted all the tasty clouds to themselves!

Clark: What?!?

Years Later

Dick: Uncle Clark?

Clark: No, I will not.

Dick: >:(

[ships-and-fandom]

I see your "batman has kryptonite handcuffs for sex with superman" and raise you "the situational bondage of Bruce using cheap plastic handcuffs so Clark has to put concerted effort into not moving a muscle, otherwise he'd break them"

Greatest detective in the world would think smarter not harder

[gay-dorito-dust]

OMG can I ask for a MAWS prompt? 🥺👉👈 Like superman saving reader and developing a fanatism out if that 👀

A/n: I’m just going to assume Clark and reader know each other for the sake of the fic. Also idk if this is what you wanted

‘Are you alright?’

You swore you heard an angel ask, softly luring you into opening your eyes only to be greeted with the most softest pair of cornflower blues looking back at you intently. The man was so undeniably beautiful and gentle in the way he holds himself, in the way he spoke to you as he helped you off the ground whilst his big, strong hands were being the only thing holding you up from another collapse with how weak you seemed to be in that moment.

‘Are you hurt anywhere? Do you need any medical attention?’ The man furthered his questioning when you didn’t answer him the first time, believing that something must be seriously wrong, when in actual fact you were just silently trying to ingrain every last feature of this man’s perfect face into your memory for further reference under the guise of secret admiration; From his dark windswept hair, his god like physique, his soft jawline, to the S on his chest that stood out to you like a shining beacon of hope.

‘I’m fine, thanks to you…’ you trailed off upon realising that you didn’t know your hero’s name. ‘Superman.’ He answered with semi-confidence as though it was a name he had came up with on the spot. It looked like he wanted to say more but his attention was drawn elsewhere, his face sets into a comparatively more hardened mould and within a blink of an eye and a gust of wind; Superman had disappeared from sight.

Ever since being rescued your mind was forever plagued by constant daydream that fantasised of being saved by Superman again and again just so you could relive the feel of his big yet caring hands practically cradle you into his strong chest, where you would rest your head whilst shamelessly ogling at his side profile for as long as you were allowed before he would inevitably drop you off somewhere safe and disappear from sight once more. The context of what it was that he was saving you from didn’t necessarily matter, you could’ve tripped over untied shoelaces, or been dropped from a tall height, the details didn’t matter as long as the daydream ended all the same where Superman saves you and by extension the day.

‘Are you alright?’

The Superman in your dream would say each and every time, but it never failed in making butterflies in your stomach at the thought of him being concerned about your well-being.

‘I’m alright, thanks to you.’ You would always reply with as you were hyperaware of the placement of his hands,whether that be on your waist, on your arms, or your shoulders. It didn’t matter, just as long as he was touching you in some form of way where your mind could then further trick your into thinking he was actually there in front of you; from how authentic the warmth of his palms pressed against you was,or the puffs of warm breath that brushed against your face, to the way he held himself.

At some points of your daydream, it often would feel a bit too real.

‘You really should be careful. I don’t want you getting yourself hurt over me.’ He tells you as his face seemed to have gotten closer towards yours during the time he spoke, his hands had shifted to rest upon each side of your head; whereas you were internalising everything that wanted to deep out in that moment as his thumbs had began to gingerly run across your cheeks. ‘I’m sure your just equally as worried about everyone else you’ve saved. It’s in your nature to protect people but it’s also our duty to protect ourselves to prevent further incidents such as this…’ you trailed off just as his forehead was then pressing itself up against yours.

But the words that left his mouth pulled you straight out of the immersion.

Superman didn’t sound like Superman but instead…he sounded like;

‘Clark?’ You asked, looking over at the bespectacled man who held a worried look upon his face that quickly melted away into one of relief.

‘Oh thank goodness you’re okay, you were just sat at your there for a really long time and I was beginning to get worried that something might’ve happened.’ He explained but you were quick to note that his large hands were coincidentally placed on either sides of your face, just like Superman’s was in your dream. Upon realising this, Clark quickly pulled his hands away as his cheeks were burned with embarrassment of having potentially crossed a line with you but as he verbally tripped over his plethora of apologise that went over your head. You were more concerned with how much of your daydream did Clark overhear.

‘Hey Clark?’ You asked, stoping him midway through his apology.

He hummed.

You breathed out a sigh. ‘I didn’t…happen to say anything aloud did I?’ You asked him, mentally scripting any and every excuse you could come up with for the possible instance of his answer to that being yes, even going so far as to secretly cross your fingers but you would soon learn that there was no need when the word that came of out his mouth was;

‘No. You didn’t say anything at all, you just sat there for a long period of time with a far away, almost dreamy look upon your face.’ Clark explained. ‘Why’d you ask, was it embarrassing?’ He adds on whilst trying not to be push the issue any further in the instance that he was making you bring up some personal stuff.

‘Yeah…you could defiantly say that.’ You replied quickly before standing up from your seat, suddenly finding yourself standing within Clark’s personal space and as you tried to take a step back, you found yourself almost falling flat on your arse but before you could; you found yourself caught within Clark’s strong arms, his hands splayed out against your back, keeping you close to his strong chest that laid beneath his cream coloured jumper. You found yourself staring at him through his lenses and deep into his gorgeous blue eyes, wondering how you’ve never seen them like this before; It almost felt as though you were in a state of de ja vu.

Clark stared back at you with wide eyes accompanied by a furious blush upon his cheeks as he slowly brought you out of your head and back to you feet, where you were once again standing within Clark’s personal space. ‘Thank you.’ You uttered and Clark averted his eyes elsewhere whilst rubbing the back of his neck out of a nervous habit. ‘It’s nothing, just wanting to prevent you from hurting yourself is all.’ He tells you sheepishly and you couldn’t help but find his humbleness endearing, even though there were a few times where you’d wish he would let you praise and or thank him.

After several minutes of awkward silence, you cleared your throat and said, ‘I’ll see you later then? Only if you aren’t busy with anything else of course.’ You spluttered out the last part, not wanting Clark to feel obligated into spending time with you when he has prior engagements to attend to later in the evenings ‘Oh yeah, absolutely I would love getting together with you.’ Clark says and his eyes widened at the implication, ‘As friends!’ He adds inexplicably. ‘I would love to get together with you as friends, because you’re a dear friend of mine and I respect you as such.’ He mentally congratulates himself sarcastically for how smoothly that went and hoe there was absolutely no way you could possibly assume anything of it.

Yet you smiled at his attempt of not making you uncomfortable and squeezed his shoulder. ‘Then it’s a date, dear friend of mine.’ You told him before leaving the room and him in it to decipher what was just said.

[mvchmp]

Clark with a Street Racer Reader please 🙏🏼 I adore dork x delinquent trope

Clark Kent x Street Racer reader

| gender of reader isn't mentioned, 2 mentions of Y/n

- ending is kinda rushed bc ididnt know how to end it im sorry if reader wasnt delinquent enough 🙏

USE YOUR SEATBELTS PEOPLE

I had just finished dropping off my friend at her house after a long day of catching up. I had brought her to watch one of my races before ending the day. 

It was now around 8pm and since there were only a few cars on the road, I decided to drive around for a bit. 

Nights like these were happening often thanks to the safety that Superman assured. The alleys looked much safer now, and walking around in sidewalks seemed more peaceful than scary. 

Driving past the Daily Planet building wasn't all that unusual to me than it was when I had just moved to Metropolis. It's on a route I usually use to go to the races I secretly attend so I had pretty much gotten used to seeing it.

Tonight was one of those times I went that route. Though I'm already used to seeing it, I found it a habit to look over and at least glance at the building. 

Yet, this time, instead of the numerous workers checking out of the premises, one man stood there. Clark Kent. The big guy with the cute glasses. 

We had met a few times, occasionally in the elevator where he'd sometimes press the buttons too hard. Or in the hallways when he's bringing groceries inside their apartment. We'd throw some greetings like "Hello" and "Hey" in those small encounters, asking what's up sometimes.

Him and his friend Jimmy who lived with him had mentioned they were interning at the Daily Planet recently - which explained why we had been meeting more often in the morning. Though, normally Jimmy would be beside Clark. Every time they went to work, and every time they got back.

Tonight, he was alone, exiting the building. As a friend, though I don't think friends find each other that attractive, I slowed down my speed and halted in front of the guy.

"Hey, Clark! Where's Jimmy?" I ask as I roll down my window, revealing my face.  "Oh, he got sick so he had to go home early. Probably something he ate." He said, rubbing the back of his neck, smiling a bit. 

"That sounds horrible. I hope he gets better soon, I'm not used to seeing you alone, you know?" I chuckle softly before continuing, "Were you about to head home? I am so maybe I can give you a ride?" I offered, keeping a hand on the steering wheel.

Surely enough, I was a bit nervous because of the thought that I'd have to drive home alone feeling rejected by my handsome, cute but hunky neighbor. But thankfully, he did not.

"Oh, sure! Thanks a lot, Y/n." He said with the same smile on his face which I absolutely adored. "Well, get in." I said, unlocking the doors for him.

I watched as he walked around the car to open the door of the passenger seat beside me and settle there. I tapped the steering wheel gently to the beat of the song that was playing on the radio while waiting for him to finish buckling his seatbelt.

"You should wear a seatbelt too, you know?" I heard his voice start beside me. "Well, there's no cops around this time of night. No one would catch me." I tell him in a matter-of-fact tone.

"Yeah, but for safety reasons. That's what seat belts were made for, right?" He said cautiously, as if trying to warn me. Though his obvious concern was adorable like him, I was stubborn enough to think that I was and will be completely fine without a seat belt considering the fact that I've raced a hundred or more times.

"Meh, I'll be fine. You hang on tight, though." I smiled at him, readjusting my posture. He mumbled a yeah, grinning softly and pushing his glasses back onto his nose properly.

I start driving through the streets, humming to the song that plays on the speakers. Looking at the side mirrors every now and then. There was a somewhat awkward air between us and knowing myself, if it got awkward enough I'd start bouncing my leg up and down which would result to obviously a car accident.

Now, I'm not risking it so I tried to bring up some small talk. "So.. How's working at the Daily Planet? I bet you and Jimmy are already cooking up those stories" I blurted.

"Ah, no, not really. Actually, me and another intern there worked on a piece about Superman but sadly, the 'professional' writers got credit for it." He heaved out a sigh and shook his head, looking out the window.

"I'm sorry that happened. You guys worked so hard for it just for other people to get credited for your efforts? That's ridiculous if you're gonna ask me." I said, supporting what he must feel right now. I heard him mumble a small 'yeah' and couldn'ilt make out the other words he said.

Reaching a pretty quiet and calm road, I decided to give into my temptations a little bit and speed up for a bit of thrill. For me, it wasn't all that bad given that I had driven a lot faster than this but, Clark on the other hand, seemed the opposite. 

I laughed slightly at him saying, "Chill down, Clark. I got you, no need to be so scared." noticing he had clutched onto the seat belt and somewhere else on the car which I didn't pay much mind to. 

"Why are you going so fast?! That's dangerous! This is dangerous!" He exclaimed, receiving another laugh from me before I slowed down again, resting him from an almost heart attack. 

I chuckled a bit more before responding, "I find it fun, driving as if I'm in a Fast & Furious movie." 

"Yeah, but it's not so fun when you're not safe." He snapped back at me. I smiled at him "Okay, I'm sorry, Clark. I'll be careful." I told him. Oh, this man was beautiful. He seems like such a dork and I just love that about him. I wonder how he'd react if he found out I race cars practically as a job.

A few minutes of small talk, we finally arrived at our apartment building. I parked my car in the parking lot underground which was designated for us residents. "Here we are." I announced to him. "Yeah, thanks for the ride. I just saved myself more time rather than waiting and looking for a cab. Really, thank you so much." He said

"Anytime, I mean, it's the least I can do to help my neighbor." I smiled sweetly at him before opening the door of my car and getting out.

As he stepped out too and closed my door, I locked it with the keys. I looked at him and to my surprise, he was already looking at me. I noticed a tint of pink shade on his face as our eyes locked.

"Let's go" I said, smiling a bit at him. 

Exiting the elevator and walking through the hallway, we finally arrived at the doors of our apartments. I faced him and bid my goodbyes, "Goodnight, Clark. Send my wishes to Jimmy." I told him and turned around to push my keys into the doorknob.

I heard him call me right before I opened the door. "Yes?" I asked him. "Thank you again for the ride. I didn't mean to bother you and- stuff. If ever you're up to it, and only if you are, would you like to grab some food sometime? Just to pay back for what you did for me today." He again rubbed his nape, avoiding my gaze and the same pink on his face.

I found it cute and why would I turn down a possible date with my hot-and-adorable-at-the-same-time neighbor? "Not that you're obliged to pay me back, and believe me it wasn't a favor you have to pay back for, but I would love to grab some food with you, sometime." I said, feeling my own cheeks heat up.

"Great, that's great. Um, yes, goodnight Y/n. Have a wonderful night!" He said, entering his own apartment. 

[glow-worms-are-believers]

Hop Jon over (dp x dc)

"Hey mister, are you dead?" was the first thing Danny heard as he found his way back to consciousness. His body vehemently protested the move by alighting every single one of his nerve ending on fire and Danny groaned.

"Mister?"

Danny's ribs were killing him, or at least they felt like they were, and he would know. He cracked his eyes open to find a small boy crouching over him with his hands on his knees and his blue eyes wide in curiosity.

"Who-" Danny croaked.

"My name's Johnatan like grandpa, but everyone calls me Jon," the kid started babbling. "I live in Metropolis, do you know Metropolis? It's the biggest city in the world. My parents work there, they're reporters but now it's summer break so I'm with Grandma and Grandpa. You fell through the old barn from the sky. Are you an alien, like Superman?"

"Ugh," Danny said as he closed his eyes again.

"Mr. Alien, are you dead again now?"

"Yes," Danny said as he put his arm over his face, wishing he could just Not Exist.

"You're lying," the kid stated confidently. "Dead people don't talk."

"They do too," Danny mumbled as he raised his head off the floor to look at the kid properly.

"Do not!"

"Do too."

"I'm telling Grandma you're a liar," the kid sing-longed before bolting out of Danny's field of vision.

With a thud, Danny let his head fall back down. Welp, it wasn't like he was going anywhere, why not invite more people over to witness this absolute embarrassment.

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Love and Care.

Pairing: Yandere!Clark Kent x Reader (DC).

Word Count: 4.0k.

Commissioned by the very lovely @distortedhumor.

TW: Non/Con, AFAB!Reader, Prolonged Captivity + Kidnapping, Spanking, Psychological/Physical Abuse, Slight Infantilization, and Delusional Behavior.

You were going to freeze to death.

That was – if you didn’t die of dehydration, first. You really weren’t sure which was supposed to work faster; thirst or exposure, the acidic dryness crawling up the back of your throat or the slow, numbing chill spreading up from your toes, your fingertips. You didn’t have to worry about hunger – even if you could feel something sharp and hollow gnawing at the pit of your stomach. You remembered reading somewhere that it took longer than a month for someone to starve to death, even if it was hard to believe that when it felt like you were on the verge of collapsing into yourself.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t been prepared. Admittedly, it’d been an impulsive thing to do, the half-baked result of a door left unlocked and the daunting awareness that you had at least twelve hours before you so much as heard from Clark again, if not the full twenty-four. You didn’t have shoes more durable than house-slippers and the delicate, lovingly polished, Mary Jane heels he liked to see you in, but you’d put on your thickest dress, stuffed a bottle of water and a few slices of homemade bread into knapsack, and started walking into the lifeless, rolling plains that surrounded the rustic farmhouse he kept you in. You didn’t run – he always seemed to know if your heart rate spiked– but you had all day to walk until you found a road, or a phone booth, or anything else that could at least remind you that other people existed. You figured you’d come across something eventually, even if you couldn’t find the help you were looking for.

Except, you’d underestimated just how cold the countryside could get in autumn, and you hadn’t thought to ration your meager supplies until after they’d already run out, and as far as you could tell, he’d found the most vacant, lifeless, desolate corner of the world to trap you within. The hem of your skirt was caked with mud and dust, your knapsack had been left behind entirely after you realized there was no point in carrying and empty bag, and one of your heels had broken off about two miles back – leaving you reduced to a slow, hobbling limp. Your body was exhausted beyond exhaustion, but you couldn’t imagine a world where you stopped walking. The only thing worse than knowing you were going to freeze to death in the middle of nowhere would be knowing that you’d just laid down and accepted it, and if you’d been willing to do that, you wouldn’t have run away at—

Your foot caught on a dense patch of undergrowth, and too tired to catch yourself, you crumpled – your knees hitting the earth with enough force to make you whimper. The last of your perseverance crashed and shattered as soon as you hit the ground, and before you could so much as try to stand up, you fell apart completely. You felt the tears before you realized you were crying – just one, at first, then another, then more than you could ever hope to count. You threw your head forward, sniffling miserably as you collapsed onto your side. You were going to die out here, but…

But, that was probably for the best, wasn’t it? It was either die out here, or die in that lonely farmhouse when Clark finally lost his temper or the roof collapsed or the ‘villains’ he was also so worried about finally did their job and put you out of your fucking misery. With a full-fledged sob, you curled into yourself and clenched your eyes shut, and—

And of course, less than a full second later, you felt a pair of muscle-bound arms your crumpled form, sweeping you off the ground and dragging you into a broad chest. You were too weak to meaningfully resist, but still, you tried to writhe and nudge yourself out of his iron-clad hold to little success. He was already talking, too. Great. On the ranked list of things you might’ve wanted to hear immediately after accepting your own mortality, your kidnapper’s nervous babbling didn’t crack the top hundred.

As if that had ever stopped him before.

“—and I thought you’d gotten hurt, and your pulse sounded so far away, and— and I don’t know what I would’ve done if it’d taken me any longer to find you.” You tuned in mid-rambling, trying to swallow your agitation. He was bent over you, his face buried in your hair, giving his voice an unsteady, muffled quality. For the world’s strongest man, he was quick to fall apart whenever he thought you so much as might be in danger. You couldn’t really judge him for that, though. You fell apart whenever he wasn’t around, too, and you didn’t care about him at all. “Are you alright? Are you hurt? There’s a hospital about fifty miles away, I can—”

“I’m fine,” you cut in, your hands shoving at his forearm where it was barred over your waist. With an airy sigh, he repositioned you – letting you fall into a proper bridal-carry rather a fully-body tackle. You noticed, for the first time, that his feet weren’t touching the ground. He was levitating, a nervous habit that that back into too often to keep track of. He must’ve genuinely thought you were in danger. More importantly, he must’ve known there was no one around to see him doing something so obviously superhuman. “Just a little cold. I‘m sorry for worrying you.”

Another sigh, this one more genuine than the last. For the first time, he drew back, and you were able to see him properly. He must’ve come straight from Metropolis; he was still wearing the suit you’d seen him in that morning, his hair slightly disheveled and his glasses shoved haphazardly into his shirt pocket. You tried to breathe, not to be thankful for how quickly his inhuman warmth was ebbing away the harsher edges of your hypothermia, and for the most part, you succeeded. You felt his lips brush against your cheek, then the corner of your jaw – Clark as affectionate as he was paranoid. “Poor thing,” he muttered, haphazardly shrugging off the jacket of his suit and draping it over your shoulders. “We’ll have to get you warmed up once we get home.”

Despite yourself, you stiffened. It was over - you knew that. He caught you, and even if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t have been able to go on much longer. You knew that.

And yet, you held yourself that much tighter as you asked, “…do we have to go home right away?”

Clark’s smile softened; his expression slackening is a patronizingly sympathetic sort of way. He didn’t need to answer, not really, but you still cringed when he inevitably did. “Of course, dear.” And then, with another kiss to your forehead. “How else can I keep you safe?”

You might’ve been nicer than him, after all. Rather than respond, you bowed your head and tucked yourself against his chest, shutting your eyes and blocking him out entirely. Clark only hummed in acknowledgement, flying that much higher and taking you home.

~

It took an embarrassingly short time to reach the farmhouse – less than a full minute, if that. It wasn’t what you deserved, but it was what you needed: a reminder that you were trying to run away from someone who didn’t have to run at all to keep up with you. Trying to escape on your own was pointless. You’d either have to find another way to get away from him or give up entirely.

Despite your constant squirming, Clark only put you down once you were inside (meaning, once the front door was locked and deadbolted with you securely trapped behind it), and you stumbled to your feet, still on the verge of collapsing. He let you struggle through all of two steps before taking you by the hand and, with that award-winning smile, guiding you through the farmhouse. “A warm bath should do the trick. Some tea, too – or coffee, to keep your blood flowing.” His eyes flickered down to the mud-caked hem of your dress, your ruined shoes. “It’s a pity. I know that’s one of your favorites.” He paused, squeezed your hand. “We’ll have to pick out another together. Maybe tomorrow, before I leave for work.”

You bit the side of your tongue, nodding along absently and letting him ramble. When you passed the staircase leading to the second floor, to your bedroom, you started to move towards it, but Clark only continued further into the house.

“Uh, Clark?” You dragged your feet as he pulled you into the kitchen. “I— Um, tea sounds nice, but I’d really like to change, first, and—”

“In a few minutes.” Another infuriating smile, another squeeze to your hand. “Do you remember what happens when you break one of our rules?”

You felt something in your throat tighten. You’d managed to forget, but it came back quickly enough. “I do, but— I was out there for a few hours, and I can’t really feel my—”

“We’ll take care of that in a few minutes, love.” He was already moving towards the kitchen table, your hand still trapped in his. “We should get this over with now.”

Trying to argue would’ve been useless. You did your best to grit your teeth, to brace yourself, but your vision still blurred as he finally released you, settling into one of the simple wooden chairs. You crossed your arms over your chest, but it did little to put a barrier between you and his prying gaze. “Do you want to undress yourself? Or, do you need my help?”

Shaking your head, you fumbled with the buttons lining the back of your dress. Usually, you could manage on your own, but your hands were still numb, and you were fighting back tears, and Clark only watched you struggle for a few seconds before motioning for you to come closer. Soon enough, cotton and lace pooled uselessly at your feet, leaving you all-but entirely exposed in front of him. You didn’t need to be told to take off your shoes, kicking them into the depressing pile of fabric that used to be your favorite dress, but when it came to your panties, you hesitated, glancing toward Clark with a pleading look. “All of it,” he confirmed, with a tone bordering on apologetic. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

As if that would make you feel any better.

You sucked in a deep breath, then eased your panties down to your ankles. You’d been wearing one of your nicer pairs – white and silken, with a lace trim around the edges and a ribbon bow that was just slightly too big to be entirely inconspicuous. They were one of Clark’s favorites, even if you doubted you’d ever hear him admit something crude out loud. You could only hope you’d never see them again.

You kept your eyes on the floor as he took you by the waist and with as much effort as it might’ve taken to move a doll from one shelf to another, lifted you up and laid you over his lap. His thighs bit into your stomach as a hand found its way to the small of your back, rubbing slow circles into the base of your spine. “We’re only going to do fifteen, alright?” It wasn’t really a question, so you didn’t bother pretending you were going to answer. Clark didn’t seem to need you to. “And you know I’m doing this because I love you, right?”

That, you couldn’t get out of so easily.

“I know,” you mumbled, because that was what would upset him the least. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less, though.”

He didn’t make a sound. You wondered if he’d heard you at all, at least until the flat of his palm came down on the plush of your ass and immediately, it was impossible to think about anything at all.

It was a small mercy that he didn’t make you count. It was something he’d tried early on, the first couple of times you‘d thrown a chair through a window or stolen his phone or hoarded weapons underneath the mattress of your shared bed, but you’d never really been able to hold yourself together long enough for anything like that. You broke down too quickly, too easily – fuck, you were breaking down right now and he’d only hit you once. You could already feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, a knot welling up in the back of your throat that only seemed to let little, pitiful whimpers and miserable sobs slip by. You tried to steel yourself, to bite back any signs of weakness, but that only meant you’d forgotten to brace yourself for the second strike – just as bad as the first, centered more towards the back of your thigh than your ass. He was trying to spread the pain, to make sure any marks he left wouldn’t be permanent. He was trying to be gentle.

It was scarier than it should’ve been – knowing that he really did care about you. You couldn’t call it ‘love’, not really, not if you still wanted to be able to live with yourself, but he had to care about you, at least enough to pay some amount of mind to your well-being, at least enough for you to be sure he didn’t hate you (although, some days, you could still be convinced otherwise). He didn’t love you, but he thought he did, and the fact that he could earnestly believe he loved you and still treat you like this made you very, very afraid of what could happen if he ever changed his mind.

By the third strike, you were crying unabashedly, and by the sixth, your hands were clamped around his thigh, your nails biting into his skin in less of an attempt to hurt him and more of a desperate scramble for any kind of stability he had to offer. It was all force, no friction – a bruising, throbbing type of pain quickly spreading outward from every part of your body unfortunate enough to be under his palm. You couldn’t seem to talk, but Clark didn’t have an issue, pausing after every blow to rub circles into your bruised skin and mutter to himself. You couldn’t imagine he still thought he was talking to you. “I just worry about how you’d manage things, out there, all on your own,” he explained, his tone cloyingly sweet. Like he was talking to a child, too naïve to know any better. Like he could still expect you to believe there was anything in the world more dangerous than him. “You know I’ll always keep you safe, but I can’t be everywhere at once. It’s easier for both of us if you just—” A pause, an airy chuckle. “—if you just stay out of trouble.”

You’d lived in the city for years and never gotten into trouble, not before meeting him. Saying that felt pointless, though, especially when he was already moving onto the seventh.

Fifteen was a terrible number. If there’d been twenty or more, you might’ve been able to go numb by the time he finished, and ten or less would’ve given you a chance to preserve at least some of your dignity. At fifteen, though, the pain was still intense enough to be blistering, and you couldn’t seem to choke down your own keening sobs as Clark brought down his hand for the final blow – using just a little more force than he really had to, making sure the lesson would stick for the next couple of days, if not the next couple of weeks. He was strict, like that, despite how tender-hearted he pretended to be. If he wasn’t, you would’ve acted out more often.

You had to believe you’d act out more often.

You were still limp and crying when his arm wrapped around your waist and with a raspy, adoring sound, he sat you up – letting you straddle one of his thighs. Whatever relief you might’ve felt at the end of your punishment was immediately overshadowed by the pale, reddish tint spread visibly across his face, the feeling of something too large and too stiff pressing into your leg where it fell between his. Clark didn’t acknowledge it, though, and you were happy to follow his lead, melting into his hands as he cupped your face, basking in his happily provided comfort. There was a shallow exhale as he tilted your head back, pressing another lingering kiss into your forehead, before dipping lower – falling immediately to your neck. You let his lips make contact with your throat before sniffling and shifting in his lap. “Hurts, Clark,” you murmured, doing your best to make your voice that of something small and in need. “It’s not that I don’t want to, but… can we go upstairs, first?”

That was enough to snap him out of it. “Right. Of course.” There was one last peck to your collarbone before he pulled you into his arms, any thought of letting you walk on your own prematurely dismissed. You tried to go blank as he trailed through the farmhouse, not to focus on anything but the pain and your exhaustion, but your gaze seemed to catch on everything you didn’t want to see – the bowl of dough still rising on the kitchen counter, the torn dress-shirt you’d planned on mending today, a dozen tiny things that all drove their own little needles into the pit of your stomach. In Clark’s defense, the housewife shtick hadn’t been his idea, but you couldn’t say he was entirely blameless, either. When you were left trapped and alone, given nothing to do and no way to occupy your time, there was only so long you could last before resorting to household chores. It was just a happy coincidence that the byproducts of your captivity were practically identical to the kind of sugar-sweet, domestic behavior that’d always seemed to melt his heart, back when your relationship wasn’t so insidious.

At least the bathroom was warm. Still too unsteady to be trusted to walk on your own, you sat on the vanity while Clark ran a bath, staring at your hands absentmindedly as the steam started to ebb at the chill. When the tub was nearly full, he helped you into it, more than happy to make it seem like you couldn’t so much as move without his help – which, in his defense, you really couldn’t. As you sunk into the scorching water, you made a mental note not to let him touch you at all tomorrow. You doubted it would be enough to fix the damage tonight had done, but it’d be better than letting him coddle you half-to-death.

Surprisingly, Clark didn’t hover over you for very long. “I think I promised you something to drink,” he explained as he moved to the doorway, his smile suddenly sheepish. Like he had any right to be shy about what he’d done to you. “I’ll be back in a second – unless you think you’ll need a hand?”

You hesitated, but shook your head. “’m fine. I just need some time to think.”

“Not too long.” He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes prying into you for a second, then another before he turned away. “I think we should be careful about what gets into your pretty little head, for the next few days.”

And just like that, you were left alone. For the first time since he’d brought you home, you let yourself relax. The hot water momentarily dulled the pain, but without the agony to distract you, humiliation quickly took its place. You shouldn’t have let Clark take you back so easily – that only gave him more leeway to treat you like some naïve, fragile object he’d been tasked with looking after. You shouldn’t have taken your punishment so quietly, even if you doubted clawing at his legs and thrashing would’ve actually accomplished anything beyond salvaging your pride. You shouldn’t have run away at all, not if it meant triggering Clark’s paranoia, not if it reminded Clark that you’d still take any chance you saw to get away from him. You’d have to be smarter about it, if you ever to escape tried again.

(You did your best to ignore that, a few months about, the same sentiment would’ve been followed by ‘when you inevitably tried again’. You weren’t superhuman. You didn’t always have the strength to be so delusionaly optimistic.)

When Clark did return, he was blissfully quiet and careful to keep his distance, sitting on the edge of the tub while you haphazardly washed the dust out of your hair and scrubbed the mud from your skin. Even after the water had gone cold and you’d managed to struggle to your feet, his touch remained fleeting, ginger as he bundled you in a towel and lifted you into his arms – his sudden distance no excuse to treat you like a living, breathing, capable person, apparently.

You didn’t have the energy to be frustrated. Exhausted and beaten down, you closed your eyes and rested your head against his chest, only stirring slightly when you felt Clark lower you onto a quilt-padded bed. You started to sit up, but the feeling of a hand laying over your hip was enough to stop you. When you opened your eyes, you found Clark, still standing, still staring down at you with that dazed, lovesick smile. “It’s really amazing, how someone like me could ever end up with someone like you.” He dipped lower, his lips finding the side of your throat. There was no pretense of innocent affection, this time, just his mouth on the side of your neck, his teeth ghosting over your skin. His voice was stifled by proximity, but mournfully audible. “I love you. I’m always going to love you. You know that, right?”

“I... I do.” You sounded hoarse, weak – more so than you would’ve liked. Clark nipped playfully at your collarbone, nearly breaking the skin. “I know you’ve been waiting, but—”

“Guess I’m just that impatient, when it comes to you.” There was an airy chuckle, a glint to his smile, but neither were very comforting. Again, you made an attempt to flee, and again, he found a way to keep you where you were – his hands curling around your thighs as he eased your legs apart. There was a hollow thud of body against floorboardas he fell to his knees, as he pressed yet another open-mouthed kiss into the inside of your thigh. “I just can’t help it. You make it hard for me to think straight.”

Not that he was trying to. You opened your mouth, trying to think of something that could distract him, that could convince him you just couldn’t do this, but he’d latch onto your cunt before you could spit anything out – the flat of his tongue running over your entrance while his nose ground into your clit. With your ass still blistered from your punishment and your nerves still on-edge from the cold, that was all it took for you to bolt upward – your hands automatically finding their way to his hair in a desperate attempt to pry him off of you. Of course, he didn’t budge, and of course, when he did glance up, he did it with that lovestruck expression that you’d never been able to stand. That you never wanted to see again.

That you just couldn’t seem to wipe off of his fucking face.

“Clark,” you whined, his name fractured and mangled on your tongue. “Please, I— It hurts, and I’m so tired, and I just—” You cut yourself off, swallowing harshly and trying to catch your breath. “Please, don’t.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Your heart skipped a beat, hope swelling in your chest. He melted into your palm, grinning like an idiot. “You can relax. I promise, I’ll be gentle.”

And just like that, you felt something deep in your chest crack open and shatter.

The next time he bowed his head, burying himself between your thighs, you didn’t bother trying to stop him.

You didn’t do anything at all.

[sanguineterrain]

Hey! Can I request a Clark x reader where they're dating but reader doesn't know Clark is superman. And then superman interacts with them for whatever reason and is flirty bc that's his person!!! But reader is like ☝️ hey buddy back off. I'm HAPPILY taken

this is such a cute request!!!! Argh!!!!

clark kent/superman x gn!reader. fluff, brief danger but r is okay. superman flirting with you but he's dating you? he's just a goober. i lub him <3 PLEASE feel free to imagine maws!clark. I feel like this is very himcore 🥰

****

Being a florist in Metropolis is good work. Lots of people still buy flowers, which is great. Many actually buy bouquets for Superman and leave them on display as support. Poppies, yellow tulips, and cornflowers. They're one of your favorite arrangements.

The downside to being a florist in Metropolis, however, is that on occasion, your flower display ends up the target of a killer robot.

You're not sure why that is. Mostly, you wish people would stop building killer robots.

You've gone outside to see what the commotion is about when you're grabbed by a metal claw. It squeezes hard, almost cutting off your air. You squirm in terror as the robot stomps down Main Street, crushing cars and asphalt in its wake.

"Help!" you scream when you catch your breath, and the robot squeezes you harder.

A dizzying blur of red, yellow, and blue zips past you. You think of your flowers.

The blur cuts through the metal like nothing. The robot begins to collapse, twitching and groaning. Its metal creaks, grip loosening on your body.

You hardly fall before Superman is there, cradling you to his chest.

"I've got you," he says, tucking you close.

You look up at him, and he beams at you, like saving you from a killer robot has been the best part of his day.

Come to think of it, Superman came to your aid surprisingly fast, even for him.

And he holds you... intimately. Like you've known him for years. Your heart picks up.

"Uh," he says, cheeks flushed. "Are–are you okay?"

You smile politely, arms around his neck. "Yes, I'm fine. Thank you, Superman."

He nods, flying down the street. "Good. I'll get you back to your shop and clean up the flowers."

You tilt your head. "How do you know I'm a florist?"

Superman looks at you, blue eyes wide.

"Oh! I... uh, I've seen your arrangements all over the city. They're beautiful. I'd never forget that they belong to an equally beautiful face."

Goodness. If Superman is this forward with everyone he rescues, it's no wonder your flower arrangements are in high demand.

"I'm flattered," you begin, and Superman once again aims that grin with the power of a thousand suns at you. "But, respectfully, I'm very happily taken, so I would appreciate it if you'd keep this rescue professional."

Superman raises an eyebrow. To your surprise, he smiles wider.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he says. "I didn't realize you were taken. My sincerest apologies. I hope I didn't make you uncomfortable."

"No, it's alright. I'm honored, but you couldn't pull me away from my boyfriend even with your super strength."

Superman's cheeks turn pinker. He sets you down in front of your store with the utmost care, not letting go until you have your bearings. He takes a step back, rubbing his neck. The gesture makes your brain itch. You don't know why.

"Well, uh, he must've done something right if he's lucky enough to be with you."

"Luck has nothing to do with it," you say fiercely. You don't know why you're so indignant about defending Clark's reputation to Superman. It's not like Clark will ever hear about it.

"No?"

"Not at all. He's an incredible person, kind and smart and loving, and if anyone's lucky, it's me."

Superman makes an aborted gesture to take your hand, then redirects and awkwardly pats your arm instead. You squint at him. He quickly moves away.

"Ah. Sorry. Well, I doubt that. I bet you're equally spectacular."

"Oh. Thank you."

You primly take his hand and give it a good shake. Superman bows his head and laughs.

He takes a step back, eyes bright like you've just made his day.

"Well, I wish you the best with your boyfriend. I'm sorry for being so forward. I've seen your Superman bouquets; your reputation precedes you. I make it a point to know reputed people in Metropolis."

"I can't imagine I'm very high on that list," you say.

"Ah, you'd be surprised. Besides, I never forget a face."

Superman darts behind you and moves at neckbreaking speed to clean up your partially maimed flowers. In three seconds, it's returned to its former glory.

"Well, uh, I'll be seeing you," Superman says, hands clasped behind his back. "I mean, I hope not in a circumstance like this! Th-then again, when else would we see each other? Scratch that, I hope there's no reason for us to cross paths because that would mean you're in danger. Uh, but I don't mean that in a bad way! I just—"

You snort and reach over to take a yellow tulip from your display. You give it to Superman, who takes it like you've just handed him a newborn baby.

"I'm still taken," you say. "But you're very sweet, Superman. Take care, alright?"

"Yeah," he says, tucking the tulip into the strap of his cape. "Yes, you too. Goodbye!"

He soars away, the tulip like a star on his cape.

Superman is handsome and kind, no doubt. But he's certainly no Clark Kent.